Wherever You Will Go

by Stephanie Smith

  Slipping on the high heels, I stroll out to the mirror.

  “Wow, Brooke, you look fantastic.”

  “You don’t think this is a little too much for the office?”

  “No way, you look great. Sophisticated.”

  “Sophisticated like I own a company or sophisticated like a hooker?” I ask with my hand on my hip.

  “A tad melodramatic, aren’t you? Now go back in there and try on one of the dresses.” She laughs as she pushes me back in the changing room.

  Rolling my eyes at her, I shut the door and pick up a navy blue fitted shift dress and try it on. I don’t even need to look in the mirror. No way. No way can I wear this to the office. “No way, Rachel. This is not an appropriate office outfit,” I scream out to her through the door.

  “What are you talking about? I wear dresses like that all the time. You said you wanted outfits like mine.”

  No way. I throw the door open and storm out to the mirror. “I meant similar clothing to yours, but made for women with figures like mine.”

  “What are you talking about, Brooke? You look fantastic.”

  “This is too much. It’s too tight and too short.”

  “Brooke, it looks good. Some burgundy heels will go great with it. After three months of wearing Nate’s track pants you need to feel good about yourself. This is about starting over, moving forward, and change. What’s better than a change of wardrobe to get you started?”

  After an hour in the first store and another two hours in a few lingerie shops, shoe shops and accessory shops, I’m exhausted. In the end I just nodded and handed over my credit card when needed. I’ll go through the bags properly when I get home.

  “Rach, I’m beat. Can we head to the food court and grab something for lunch?” I ask like a petulant child.

  “Yes, shopping with you is hard work,” she teases. “On a positive note, I think we have more than enough. Want to head to a movie after?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  Finally finding a table in the busy food court, we throw all our shopping bags under it and on the spare chairs. I fall into my seat and take a second to breathe before deciding what I want to eat. I glance around the food court and wonder how many people are here trying to forget like I am.

  “Oh fuck,” Rachel mumbles from next to me.

  Turning towards her I watch as she crawls under the table. Like, seriously, under the table, searching through the shopping bags. I pop my head under. “Rach, what’s wrong? What are you looking for?”

  “Shhhhh, I’m hiding,” she says with panic in her voice.

  “Hiding from what?”

  A shadow appears behind me and suddenly there is another head under the table. “She’s hiding from me.”

  Rachel and I both jump at the voice, banging our heads on the table.

  “Fuck it,” she whispers. “Hey Will, I was just looking for my purse, I think I left it in one of these shopping bags,” she says in a much louder voice.

  “Really? Because your purse is on the table. Actually, I think you were holding it when you saw me,” he says in an amused tone.

  Will? This is Will? The infamous William Bradley? Rachel made it seem like no big deal, like he was a nice colleague, but her reaction makes me think differently. She’s nervous. I laugh to myself at the squeaky over-chipper tone she’s using and the way her body has stiffened. This is not Rachel’s normal MO. She has never been nervous around men. With her beautiful face and perfect body, she’s never had a reason to be.

  I look over to Will and he has a huge grin on his face, as if he is enjoying her reaction. I like him already.

  “So, Will, nice to finally meet you,” I say with a sly tone.

  Will’s eyes shoot to mine. “You’ve heard of me?” he asks with curiosity in his voice.

  “I’ve just mentioned you as the new colleague, that’s all,” Rach jumps in before I can respond. “Will, this is my best friend, Brooke.”

  Will doesn’t even acknowledge Rachel as he keeps his eyes on me. “Has she told you I’ve been asking her out every day for more than three months now?”

  I’m unsure how to answer him. I want to encourage this, but she is my best friend, and I’m sure there’s some kind of girl code here. “Ummmm … would you like to join us for lunch? I mean, if you’re not busy.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rachel turn towards me and glare. Will and I keep looking at each other with wide smiles. “I’d love to,” he responds.

  “Can we take this back to the table, please?” Rachel says, in a snippy tone.

  “Sure,” Will and I both answer at the same time.

  As we crawl out from under the table and find our seats, I have a good look at Will. He is gorgeous. Gorgeous is probably not the right word for a man, but he is.

  He has sandy blond hair, cut short and styled precisely. Golden-brown eyes look now only at Rachel who is crawling up from under the table. He stands to grab her chair and pulls it out for her as she manoeuvres into it, trying not to get too close to him.

  I take note of how tall he is, probably taller than Nate, although not quite as built. His arms are tanned and firm so I assume the rest of him is as well. I wouldn’t mind checking on that.

  I laugh silently to myself at my own witty banter. Hilarious. Wow, it’s been a while since I’ve had light-hearted musings like this. Thank you, Will.

  I glance at the chair to my left, wanting to share my joke and small breakthrough. A small pang of sadness hits me in the stomach. Somehow, I’m still shocked at not seeing Nate next to me. I bite my lower lip, forcing myself to keep it together.

  When Will and Rach settle themselves in their seats, Will scoots his chair closer to Rachel.

  This one sweet gesture makes me again think of Nate. It reminds me of when we first met and all the cute things he would do: gentle words, subtle touches, or what he thought was subtle. Again, I laugh to myself, although this time apparently not silently.

  “What are you laughing at?” Rachel asks.

  I look up to see Will and Rachel both staring at me with waiting faces. “Sorry.” I laugh. “I was just thinking of Nate.”

  Rachel gives me a sad smile and a nod, but I wink back at her. This may well be the first time I’ve thought about Nate in a happier time. In this moment I feel lighter. I’m moving forward, and not just physically, but emotionally too. I don’t ever want to forget this.

  Once we’ve all made our choices from the food court, we settle in for good food and good conversation—or dodgy takeout and awkward conversation. In the midst of the silence, Will hasn’t taken his eyes off Rachel and has a goofy grin on his face as she looks anywhere but at him.

  “So, Will,” I start. “What exactly do you do at Potger & Co?”

  Will looks over to me, dazed, and takes a second to compose himself before realising I even asked him a question. He is just too cute, and very much smitten with my best friend.

  “Sorry, what?” he asks, confused.

  I giggle at him. “I asked what you do exactly at Potger & Co?”

  “Right. At the moment I mostly deal with high-profile divorce and separation cases. It’s not my normal area of expertise, but it was an opportunity to get my foot into the company door.”

  “Oh right. What do you normally do?” I ask, interested.

  “Corporate law.”

  “Quite a change from divorce and separation cases.”

  “It is.”

  “You must see some interesting cases,” I say in a sarcastic tone.

  Will chuckles. “To say the least.”

  “So, do you have personal experience in this area? Divorce, I mean?” I ask, with no care for social etiquette at all. What do I care? I’m not trying to date him.

  Rachel’s wide eyes turn towards me, even though I see her slightly lean in towards the table, waiting on Will’s response.

  He has another satisfied smile on his face as he looks towards Rachel. Damn lawyers, no one can get anything by
them. He knows exactly what I’m doing. “No, actually, I’ve only had one serious relationship, and it never even got close to marriage.”

  I see a frown cross Rachel’s face.

  “So you’re a bit of a player? Like to get around? Scared of commitment?” I ask with no tact at all. Rachel gives an inconspicuous nod, which tells me I asked the right question.

  Will cracks up laughing at my no-holds-barred interrogation, I guess he’s used to being the one asking the questions. “No. I’ve just been busy with studying and working for the past ten years to have much time for dating. I seem to have an abundance of time now that I’m settled in my career, but finding a date is a lot harder than I thought it would be,” Will offers as he looks back over towards Rachel.

  She rolls her eyes. “I’m sure you could get any girl you wanted to go on a date with you, and probably more,” she says snidely as she takes a sip of her soda.

  Will’s eyes shoot up and meet Rachel’s dead-on. “Maybe? Except the only girl I want refuses to go out with me… on a date and more.”

  Rachel spits out her soda, locking her glare on Will’s amused smile, and I can’t do anything except keep my eyes on both of them. The tension between them is insurmountable. Holy hell, I think my panties are on fire. These two are going to be explosive. And I know they’re going to eventually explode.

  Will I ever have that experience again? It seems so long ago, I don’t remember exactly how it felt. Butterflies in the stomach, sweaty hands, stuttering… after being with Nate for ten years all I feel when I think of him is the comfortable, the stable and the constant. Sitting here with Rachel and Will makes my heart ache for him. What I wouldn’t give to have him back, just for a moment…

  All of a sudden Rachel stands, scraping her chair along the floor. I look up to her as she grabs all our shopping bags. “Well, it’s been great. We have to get going, movie date and all. See you at work on Monday,” she rambles.

  Before I can even stand, she has stormed off and out of the food court, while Will watches her with an amused smile. He turns to me with an even wider grin.

  “Well, I guess we are going,” I say as I stand, grabbing my purse and Rachel’s.

  Will smiles warmly at me. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Brooke. I hope we get to see each other again soon.”

  “I’m sure we will.” I smile back. “I’ll work on it,” I wink.

  Will’s smile turns mischievous. “It’s appreciated. I don’t think I can crack her on perseverance alone.”

  I giggle as I pat his shoulder on my way out to go in search of Rach and start my matchmaking plan. Mum, Dad, and Rachel were right; I do need stuff to keep me busy, and sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong in Rachel’s love life is exactly the kind of job I need.

  I stroll down the centre walkway, looking for my friend among the crowds of midday shoppers and am suddenly gripped by my wrist and pulled into yet another shoe shop. Before I have a chance to scream, Rachel is in my face, and I know without her even saying anything, I’m in big trouble.

  “What the hell was that back there?” she asks as her grip on my arm tightens.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say as I pull my arm out of her death grip.

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about. What games were you trying to play? You were encouraging his inappropriate behaviour.”

  “I like him—no, I love him. He is perfect for you. His calm and collected personality will work so well with your uptight, crazy ass.”

  “I am not uptight, or crazy,” she screeches. “I know he’s a nice guy, but you know why I can’t date him. We’ve already discussed this.” The frustration in her voice is clear, and I know I’m taking quite the risk if I push her anymore. Fuck it.

  “He is not a nice guy. Pastor Tom is a nice guy; Mr. Vasalo from the fruit market is a nice guy; the guy who wears dresses on the corner of Ninth Street is a nice guy. William Bradley is not a nice guy: he is perfection,” I say in a dreamy voice, mocking her.

  “Who is Mr. Vasalo?”

  “You know Mr. Vasalo, the old Italian man from the fruit market? Who cares! You know what I’m talking about,” I state in frustration. “Will is wonderful, and you know it. He is sweet, patient, kind and HAWT! And I only met him for half an hour.”

  Rachel rolls her eyes. “If he’s so perfect, why don’t you date him?” Her face drops, and her eyes widen at her thoughtless comment.

  “No way, he reminds me too much of Nate. When I date again I’m going to try something different, date someone the total opposite of Nate, you know?” I say, trying to lighten the mood.

  “So a really ugly guy who treats you like shit,” she says with a smirk on her face.

  “Smart-ass.”

  Rachel places her hand in mine. “You said date again.”

  “Yeah?” I ask sceptically.

  “You think you’ll date again?”

  I smile warmly at my best friend. “Yeah, of course, Rach. Well, at least I hope to. I’m definitely not thinking in the near future, but in a year or two, maybe? I’m not an idiot; I’m not even thirty. I don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life. I still have plans I’d like to fulfil,” I state with a sad smile.

  “Like children, you mean?”

  “Yeah, like children.”

  “Just don’t wait too many years. The older we get, the more the good guys get taken off the market, and soon only the Saxons will be left. By then they’ll be forty, and they won’t even have their good looks and hot bodies for us to ogle.”

  I laugh and silently thank her for moving on from the serious direction the conversation was taking.

  We make our way to the car in silence to drop all the bags before we head back inside to the movie theatre.

  We choose the new Zac Efron movie so we get all the positives a girl wants in a movie: eye candy, comedy, and life advice. We load up on popcorn and lollies and head into the theatre.

  The movie is funny and light-hearted, and a great way to finish off our shopping day. We laugh the whole way home about random stuff, and I can barely remember the last time I was this happy. It has only been three months yet it feels like forever. The same peace I’ve been feeling over the last few days settles over me. It’s time to move forward.

  Rach and I carry our many shopping bags inside, dumping them on my couch and throwing ourselves on top of them.

  “Oh my God, I’m exhausted. You could’ve taken it easy on me. It’s my first shopping trip in months,” I say as I try to catch my breath.

  “I know. I barely have enough energy to drive home. Do you want me to stay and keep you company?”

  “Nah, I don’t have the energy to entertain you. Think I’ll be sleeping right here tonight.”

  “All right, love. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she says as she crawls across my living room floor. I laugh at her antics before the sound of the front door closing echoes throughout the silence. I pull in a deep breath while closing my eyes for just a second.

  When I wake it’s dark, and I know I did more than doze for a few minutes. I stand and stretch, looking down at all the bags I brought home with me earlier before making my way to the kitchen.

  I don’t want to go to sleep, knowing it will only bring tomorrow quicker, and that brings Monday even closer. No matter how brave I’m trying to be, I have to admit I’m nervous as hell to go into the office on Monday.

  Deciding to use the extra energy my nap has given me, I unload and sort all of my shopping. I then settle in for a movie night with popcorn, ice cream, and whatever other junk food I can find that Mum and Rachel have stocked my cupboards with.

  I enjoy some of my favourite comedies such as Dodgeball, A Night at the Roxbury, and Wedding Crashers. Nate and I would watch these movies over and over again. It brings back lots of different memories and the jokes we would share.

  I also enjoy the fact I don’t need to think when watching them. I can zone out for a few hours and not focus on all the big chang
es ahead of me.

  After falling asleep on the couch again and spending the night there, I spend Sunday puttering around the house, trying to keep busy. I’m attempting to keep my mind off things, but I don’t feel up to seeing anybody.

  By nightfall I’ve cleaned and sorted all the kitchen cupboards. I’ve scrubbed all baseboards, and cleaned under the fridge, washing machine, and dryer. I’ve also rewashed all the sheets and towels in the linen closet, and cleaned up the leather couches with leather cleaner.

  As I’m carrying all the cleaning products back to the laundry, I pass my bedroom, and am caught by the site of my en-suite door, still closed, as it has been ever since that day. I decide tonight is as good a time as any to deal with the damage. Both literally and emotionally. It will be good to start at Argo fresh, without this lingering at the back of my mind.

  Making my way to the door, I hesitantly push it open. Glass crunches as I push the door just enough to slip inside. I tiptoe to the counter, glad I have flip-flops on. Placing all the cleaning products except the dustpan and brush on the counter, I bend down and start sorting and sweeping up the mess.

  As I scoop up shattered glass, and porcelain, I see evidence of what was once part of Nate’s and my life. Pieces of our favourite perfume bottles. Shards of our toothbrush holder and soap dispenser, which were wedding gifts. Our favourite monogrammed bath towels strewn across the room.

  Amongst all of the memories lay various pregnancy tests. Picking one up, I look at the result window. I’m not sure why; I know what the result was. Tears well up in my eyes as the emotions from that day come flooding back: the devastation, the destruction, the anguish, and the despair. Tears fall unchecked down my cheeks until every last piece of rubbish and glass is cleaned up.

  Grabbing the garbage bag, I tie it up as I make my way to the door. Looking at the empty en-suite, it doesn’t feel like mine anymore. I switch off the lights and close the door behind me. I think I’ll keep using the other bathroom for now.