by Lee, Sue
“I also spoke to Stephanie Wheeler,” he continued.
“You spoke to her?! What?” I asked with wide eyes. I was mortified. “What did she say?”
His expression was grim. “I had to. She was disappointed; with me, not you. We’ve worked together for a long time. We’ve been peers, as well as healthy adversaries, for a large part of both our careers at MS. I would even go as far as calling her a friend. She gave her two cents on the situation,” he rolled his eyes, “but she agrees this is the best thing for everyone involved. HR will be engaged here of course, since it’s an exception to the normal policy. Remember that technically, you did nothing wrong. You don’t report to me, so this shouldn’t impact your future career at MS. However, it will show that you’ve changed jobs for personal reasons, which will show as being approved by Stephanie.”
I racked my brain for what I might say to explain to my future managers what those personal reasons were. Nothing believable came to mind.
Ryan looked a little irritated as he discussed Stephanie’s reaction and the necessary engagement of HR. “MS policy dictates that you have to stay in your position for a minimum of one year before you’re allowed to switch jobs internally and it also requires manager approval to do so. Anything prior to a year requires GM level approval. There was no way for you to change jobs without Stephanie being informed.”
“She probably thinks I’m a twit now, doesn’t she?” I was embarrassed by all of this somehow, even though I shouldn’t be. I think, in part, it was probably because I was the most junior person involved. I didn’t want Stephanie thinking I was that girl who was stupid enough to have a fling with a senior manager. I knew that Ryan and I were different, but my guess was that Stephanie thought otherwise.
He gave me a scornful look that said I shouldn’t be insulting myself. “She doesn’t understand our situation and she doesn’t need to. It’s none of her business.” His tone was dismissive, but he didn’t deny it.
“So, do I need to contact HR or Stephanie tomorrow?” I asked nervously.
“No. HR might contact you, though. I think you can just start looking for a new role and treat it like any other job search opportunity. Neither Catherine nor Stephanie will get in the way. Once you ask for formal permission to interview, they’ll approve the request.”
But it won’t be like any other job search. No other job search will be. Potential managers will ask questions. With all things said and done, I guess this is the best that I could hope for, though.
“Thank you, Ryan, for doing this,” I said graciously. “I’m relieved that you coordinated all of this on my behalf. I can’t even imagine a conversation with Stephanie Wheeler about such a personal and private matter. You’ve saved me the embarrassment of having to explain all of this to her.”
“Shit, Julia,” Ryan said apologetically. “I’m so sorry I’ve put you in this situation. This is entirely all my fault.” He looked genuinely distraught. “I’m trying to do as much damage control as I can, but I know I can’t fix everything,”
“It’s not like either one of us planned this to happen. You and me, I mean.” I gestured my hands in the air between the two of us. “The fact that we’re even together is all due to crazy coincidence. Despite the career consequences, I’m glad it all happened, because I’m here with you,” I said earnestly.
“I’m just sorry that this is impacting your career and not mine. I know it doesn’t seem fair to you. A part of you must be so pissed at me for it.” His lips were tight and his eyes cast downward as he admonished himself.
“No, I’m not pissed. If this is what needs to happen, and we’re together in the end, that’s all I care about.” I reached out to hold his hand over the table. “It’s all worth it because I know it led me to you.”
I stayed over at Ryan’s. We cleaned up dinner and went down to his basement. We sat on the sofa drinking wine and listening to music. He had an impressively extensive music collection; we took turns picking out music and decided we actually had quite similar tastes. He introduced me to a few bands that I didn’t know or maybe only just heard of in passing, but that he thought I might like. We enjoyed telling each other stories about the memories that certain songs evoked. There was no further discussion about Catherine, or work, or any other consequences we would have to face in the morning. We enjoyed the simple pleasure of just being in each other’s company.
We made out occasionally on his sofa. I felt like a teenager at times, giggling and falling in love while listening to old REM and Van Morrison. Eventually, the combination of wine and lack of sleep from the previous evening caught up with the both of us and we found ourselves dozing off. Sometime after midnight, Ryan woke me up. I had fallen asleep with my head on his lap. He took my hand and led me to his bedroom, where he undressed me slowly and dressed me in one of his T-shirts. He stripped down to his boxers and we climbed into his bed. I snuggled into the crook of his arm and we both immediately fell asleep.
I was embarrassed that Stephanie Wheeler had learned about Ryan and me. The women at MS had high expectations of each other. It was hard enough working in a male dominated industry and proving your value and intelligence. I felt like I had somehow disappointed Stephanie for getting involved in an interoffice romance. Work is work, not a soap opera. It was less than a month ago that I had first been introduced to her by Catherine. If she didn’t remember me from the one time we met, she certainly knew who I was now. She knew the details of my love life. I wasn’t embarrassed about falling in love with Ryan, but I was uncomfortable with the fact that my executive leadership had to be pulled into the discussion. I’m sure she highly disapproved, regardless of the circumstances. Someone like Stephanie would never get involved in an office romance and risk everything she had ever worked for.
As I drove into the parking garage of my building, I was faced with the option of hiding my face until I found a new role or choosing to disregard any judgment from Catherine or Stephanie. The only thing I was guilty of was falling in love. I chose the latter; I was going to hold my head up high and leave this job with dignity.
I had my 1:1 with Catherine today. I wasn’t sure though if she would be in the office. According to her original schedule, she had planned to be out of town until the end of last week and back in the office this morning. I had expected her to cancel our meeting, but when I checked my Outlook calendar, it remained on the schedule.
When ten o’clock rolled around, I took a deep breath and headed towards her office. I had no idea how things were going to turn out. The situation we found ourselves in was nothing that either of us could have predicted. Despite the lack of any malicious intent on my part, I still felt horribly guilty and was incredibly nervous. I was the other woman in this scenario. I was also her direct report. Knowing the partial outcome of how all of this would affect my career at MS helped, but not knowing how Catherine would react to seeing me was unnerving. How would I feel if things were turned around and I had to confront the woman who was essentially to blame for ruining my life? I would be angry, hurt, and bitter—the other woman would be the last person in the world I would ever want to see; it would be like a slap in the face.
I paused briefly outside her door to steel my nerves. I peered through her window; she sat with her back facing the door. I knocked softly and when she turned around, she stiffened, giving me a stoic expression. She looked tired and a little pale, thinner than the last time I saw her. Since her door was already opened a crack, I pushed it open further and stood in the entry of her office.
“Hi, Catherine,” I said simply.
Catherine looked uneasy and it wasn’t hard to figure out that she would rather see any other person standing in front of her; anyone other than me. I would, too, for that matter.
“Hi, Julia,” she greeted me. Surprisingly, she didn’t sound angry; she sounded resigned.
I shut the door behind me and sat down. There was an awkward silence, neither one of us wanting to speak first.
She
briefly looked away, but upon returning her gaze, her eyebrows had furrowed and her lips had formed into a tight line. She finally took a deep breath and said, “Listen, I know this wasn’t your fault. Ryan told me you never knew a thing until I saw you that morning at the restaurant.”
“Catherine …” I started, but she held up her hand and shook her head no, like it was too painful to hear me say anything to help ease the situation. I didn’t really know what I was going to say anyways. I guess I just wanted to convey, what … my sympathies? God, this whole thing was just so messed up.
“Please, let me finish,” she pleaded painfully. “I know I shouldn’t hate you for this, but I do. Maybe that emotion will fade and change over time, but right now the wound is too fresh. So, I would appreciate it if you can do me a favor and try to keep your distance from me from this point on. Take the week off or work from home for all I care.”
I nodded. I knew that none of this should’ve been a surprise, but I couldn’t help feeling hurt by her curt dismissal. I tried not to let it show how much her words had stung. Instead, I asked her about how this would be communicated to my colleagues. “What about the team? What will you tell them?”
“Nothing, for now. I’m assuming Ryan told you he got Stephanie’s approval to let you look for a new job. I think that’s best. When it’s announced that you’ve found a new role, we’ll tell them it was a personal conflict. They can speculate or gossip about the rest. It’ll blow over eventually.”
“Okay.” I nodded and bit my lip.
I could tell that Catherine had nothing more to say to me. Her shoulders were slumped in resignation. I searched her eyes for … what was I looking for, exactly? I felt like I had so much I wanted to say to her, yet no coherent thought came to mind that seemed appropriate or wouldn’t sound disingenuous.
I decided to say the only thing that I knew we both felt. “Catherine, I’m really sorry, about everything. I hope one day you can forgive me … and Ryan.”
Catherine’s upper lip started to tremble and her eyes became shiny with brimming tears. “Me too,” she said sadly.
Today was Wednesday and tomorrow Ryan and I were heading to the San Juan Islands for our little weekend getaway. I knew this was considered really early in a relationship to be leaving on mini vacation together, but things with Ryan seemed to defy any preexisting rule, dating norm, or expected timeline for how fast or slow a relationship should progress.
For some reason, leaving on a three night getaway with Ryan felt natural; it didn’t feel like we were trying to push anything too quickly. Come to think of it, we had never even gone out on a real date before, but I guess that was just another abnormal thing about our relationship.
Ryan had turned my life upside down, but I was happier than I ever imagined I could be. Maybe Anna was right. She knew me better than anyone else, after all. Maybe this was what it felt like to have finally found the one. In our need to be together, we had already made life altering decisions. That meant something. This relationship was different than the others. I had fallen hard for him and was crazy in love. Three months ago, I honestly didn’t think this was possible. Back then, things had been so bleak for me. If someone had told me then that I would fall in love again so soon, I would’ve thought they were crazy.
Ryan had stayed over Monday night and then went to work the next morning directly from my place. He had brought over a change of clothes and his toiletry kit. I liked that he was comfortable enough with me to do that without having to ask. That again, was another abnormal thing about our relationship—we already acted like a couple who had been together for months, rather than just a couple of weeks. These routines felt comfortable and unforced. Maybe eventually, we would each have our own drawer in one another’s home. At the rate our relationship was progressing, I wouldn’t be surprised if that were next week.
We were apart last night for the first time since Anna’s wedding because Ryan had to get a lot of work done before our trip. His team was desperate to get his time before he left on holiday, so he had been in meetings all day, including a dinner meeting, and then he was on email until late in the evening.
As for myself, I had spent most of the last couple of days wrapping up the work I was doing for Catherine. Even though she wanted nothing more to do with me, it didn’t mean I was going to shirk my duties. Technically, I knew I was no longer obligated to perform my job obligations, but my work ethic compelled me to finish all of my assigned deliverables. I emailed the completed scorecard to Catherine today. It had the global status update from all G8 regions for the last half of the MS fiscal year. Of course, I never heard back from her about whether or not the scorecard was acceptable, but no one was ever going to accuse me of being a slacker.
We were at Ryan’s house tonight. We had just finished our meal of salmon accompanied by a delicious lemon arugula pasta salad, thanks to the Barefoot Contessa, when Ryan’s mom called.
I proceeded to clear the table, trying to keep myself busy and out of the way. I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I looked up when I heard the tension in his voice.
“This really isn’t a good time, Mom,” Ryan said somewhat tersely. He glanced quickly over at me to see if I was listening, catching my eye but then looking away.
Were they talking about me?
“I’m heading to the San Juans tomorrow.” He paused as his mother spoke. “Yes, on the boat.”
I couldn’t help noticing that he made it sound like only he was going to the San Juans alone.
“I’m meeting my real estate agent on Friday to look at a couple of new properties.” There was another pause on his end. “No, I’m not going alone.”
I tried to focus on rinsing and loading the dishes into the dishwasher, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Ryan and his mom were having a delicate discussion about the recent personal changes in his life. I looked up when I heard the sliding door to the deck open and then close. I suspected he went out there to get some privacy. His back was facing the window, so I was unable to see his facial expressions. However, I could tell from the stiffness of his back and the way he was gripping the phone that the discussion was getting contentious.
Of course, after seven years of being a couple, not to mention having grown up together before that, his family obviously knew Catherine well. It had never occurred to me, how tough their breakup might be for the shared people in their lives. I had so many questions about Ryan and Catherine’s past. How many of their close family and friends knew about their breakup? Who were their shared friends? Would I meet some of them soon? How awkward would it be to have Ryan introduce me to them, especially if they were also good friends with Catherine? Would they talk about me and then report back to Catherine? They were engaged, for Christ’s sake. My presence in Ryan’s life would surely be a shock to some, if not all.
After Andrew and I broke up, I had very little contact with his friends. This went both ways. Ethan and Andrew had gotten close, but after our relationship ended, they hadn’t seen each other since, or at least that I was aware of. Andrew certainly hadn’t come to Ethan’s wedding. As for those couples that we had both been friends with, I hadn’t made much of an effort to keep in touch. That was more my fault than theirs, though. Some of my girlfriends had reached out to me to see how I was doing, but I rarely returned their requests to get together.
I did have lunch last month with my friend Christine. Her boyfriend, Daren, was one of Andrew’s college buddies. Andrew and I had introduced the two of them. Christine had met Andrew’s now fiancé, but she was cautious about giving me too much information, in case it might hurt me. I doubted I would be seeing much more of Daren, but I did hope Christine and I could keep in touch. I knew it would be less frequent, though, because that’s just the way things worked. When you weren’t part of a couple anymore, your whole social network shifted to accommodate. Friends were usually lost in the process. In all likelihood, Ryan would lose some friendships as a result of our relationship, too.
Friends were one thing, but I couldn’t help wondering if Ryan’s family would resent me. My mom had been upset when Andrew and I had broken up. My parents liked him, and they were saddened by the loss of him as a potential son-in-law. Three years of knowing someone because he dated your daughter didn’t compare to someone who dated your son for two-thirds of a decade and grew up with your children.
I bet that Catherine and Ryan’s sister, Lauren, were close. They were probably best friends. No wonder Ryan had to be so sure that breaking up with Catherine was really what he wanted. If I felt that Ryan had turned my life upside down, I could only imagine what I’d done to his.
These last few days with Ryan had been wonderful. With the exception of last night and time spent at work, Ryan and I spent every moment together and I was looking forward to spending the next four glorious days with him. However, I recognized that there was little outside influence in any of the time we had spent together; we had created our own little happy corner of the universe. If life could continue like this, I wouldn’t complain, but I knew the reality of life would face us next week. This conversation with his mom was just a small flavor of what we were in for.
Until now, I hadn’t thought about how our relationship was going to be perceived by his family and friends. I realized now that Catherine may always be in the picture, but had very little knowledge or understanding of how much. I was hesitant to ask Ryan, since I didn’t want to come off as an annoying, jealous girlfriend. It killed me, though, to know that people would always be comparing me to Catherine and that Ryan would have to defend and explain his new relationship with me. People were going to assume the worst. Would they think badly of me? Or Ryan? Or both of us? From the tone of his phone conversation with his mother, I could only conclude that she disapproved of his actions.