by T. K. Rapp
I ignored his text.
Add to my day that Mr. Miller has sent numerous emails instructing me to have a list of suggested menu items, as well as potential caterers, for our meeting on Monday. He has yet to nail down whether it will be a Friday or Saturday event, but considering it’s less than five months away, I need a date. I need to make sure these vendors are available. Now I’m a frazzled mess, and I want nothing more than to vent about it to Ryan.
Me: I’m heading home
Ryan: I’m still at work
Me: How much longer?
Ryan: Not sure. I’ll call
I look at my computer and groan, because it’s almost six thirty. I’m drained, annoyed and now pissed at Ryan. He’s still here, and already I feel alone. I didn’t move out here and agree to marry him, just to wind up by myself. This day has dragged, but most likely it feels that way because I am eager to get home.
Me: Don’t bother
Why am I being such a bitch?
I clean up my desk and grab a stack of things to take home with me before shutting everything down. Just as I walk out of the office my phone rings and I look to see it’s Ryan and roll my eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Hey,” he stumbles over his words. “Everything okay?”
“No, Ryan,” I snap back, “I’m not. You leave in four days but you have to work late.”
“Don’t you think I’d rather be home with you?”
“I don’t know what to think. We just picked out your new home for the next year, you’re closing up things at work, and I’m busy. I’m just not sure when we’ll get to spend any time together before you leave. Before you know it, Friday will be here and we’ll have missed out.”
“Em-”
“No. You know what? Don’t worry about it. I’ll just see you when you get home.” I don’t wait for him to say anything else. I hang up and stuff my phone into my purse and storm out to my car to head home.
The entire drive home, I go between sniffling like a child to getting fired up over Ryan leaving. By the time I pull into my parking spot, I’m finally calm and feel like maybe I’ll just go to sleep and put a nail in this day. To my surprise, those ideas are put on hold because when I open the door to let myself in, Ryan is leaning against the back of the couch, staring at me.
I’m trying too hard to keep my composure, so I walk to the counter and place my purse on one of the two barstools and turn to face him. I'm unsure whether to walk over and hug him or to stand back and wait for him. But before I can decide one way or the other, Ryan pushes to his feet and walks over to me and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close. I bury my head in his chest and I am crumbling all over again. The pain of him leaving consumes me and I begin crying inconsolably. I wrap my arms around him, holding tight, as though my grasp alone can keep him here.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers into my hair.
“I’m morry, moo,” I answer muffled into his chest between sobs. He chuckles and loosens his grip.
“What?”
I look up at his face, take a deep breath and clarify, “I said, ‘I’m sorry, too.’”
He runs his thumb across my cheek, wiping a stray tear and leans down to kiss me. This single act has the tears escaping all over again, so he takes my hand and urges me to sit on the couch with him, “I already ordered from the Chinese restaurant you like, it should be here in a bit. So we have time to talk.”
I look at him with a questioning eye. “You think all of our problems are going to be solved in twenty minutes, Ry?”
“No, but we can at least start. Unless you want to do something else with those twenty minutes,” he teases.
“You give yourself too much credit,” I joke, and the laugh he releases causes a smile to finally appear on my face. He leans into the cushions, pulls my back to his chest and holds me close. I hear him breathing and the silence between us stretches, but I know that we both have thoughts running through our heads. Thoughts that we have been putting off far too long.
“Em, you know I want you to come with me-” I start to sit up, but he pulls me back, shushing me. “But I know you have your job here.”
“I know this is a huge opportunity for you, but I can't just quit and follow you for a year.” I look down at our fingers that are entwined as I try to share my thoughts with him. “Ryan, I’m scared. We’re on shaky ground right now. Can’t you see? I’m not sure we'll make it.”
“Wow.” His arms fall away from me, but I grasp his fingers tighter. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Em?”
“I didn't mean it like that,” I rush to clarify my bad word choice.
“Then how did you mean it? Because first, you can't come with me, or won't. And then you're saying that a year is gonna break us. I don't know about you, but that says a lot about what you think of our relationship, don’t you?”
I turn to face him, ready to have the second biggest fight of our short time here. “Don't put words in my mouth, besides, you're the one trying to uproot us for your career.”
When he looks at me, confusion is etched on his face, “Yes, I need to take this job for my career, as you point out, but it's not like I have a ton of options out there. Last I checked, we need for me to have this job to make ends meet.”
I'm not going to yell. I take a steadying breath and turn to look at the frame on the end table next to me because I cannot look at him. One. Two. Three. Exhale.
My voice is steady when I counter his argument. “We came out here, because you said this was the best place for us, and I followed, because I love you. It took me months to line up this job with Elle, when I had one already waiting for me back home. But again, I did it for you. And as far as making ends me, you are not the breadwinner here, Ryan. We are a team, but this is one move that I will not do for you.”
“Em!” he starts to yell, but I know that he’s trying to remain calm. “I already said, I don’t expect you to come with me. Do I want you to? Yes, but not if you don’t want to. You’re making it sound like I’m choosing work over you, but I’m not.”
“It sure feels like it,” I counter.
“Well, I could say the same thing back to you.” He looks at me, knowing that he has a point.
We’re in a standoff, neither of us willing to back down, and I feel both of us are wrong. The silence is deafening, but I'm afraid if I speak, I'll cave. Ryan is the first to make a move when he takes a seat at the kitchen counter, and exhales a frustrated breath. I follow by sitting back down on the couch waiting to see how this will play out.
A loud knock on the door breaks through the silence and Ryan gets up to answer it. He pays the delivery guy, sets the food in the kitchen, and starts to pull out plates from the cabinet. The conversation could be over, but I’m not ready to let this one die. “How’s this really going to work, Ryan?” My question is barely a whisper, but I know that he’s thinking the same thing.
“I’m not sure.”
“I know people go through far worse things than being temporarily apart, but all I can see is us, and what effect this could have. I’m really scared.” When the words are finally out there, I give in to my pain and fears. Ryan sets down whatever he was holding and joins me on the couch. He reaches over, entwining his fingers with mine and for once, this small gesture makes me feel even lonelier. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that this is gonna suck ass,” he starts. “But we’ll see each other as much as we can on the weekends. You are amazing and the fuckin’ strongest woman I know. I don’t want you sitting around here moping while I’m gone. That’s not fair, so go on about your normal day. Go out with friends, work, and do whatever else. I may be gone, but it’s not like we’re breaking up or anything. And until I leave, we are spending as much time together as we can. Okay?”
I let his words filter through and try to think of any other solution that might help us out of this place. Maybe I should just go with him. But I would resent him, and if I beg him to stay, h
e would, but he would resent me. “Alright,” I say in defeat.
“Alright,” he parrots. “Unless you don't want to spend time with me,” he asks teasing, because it’s obvious from my attitude that I want nothing more than to be with him as much as possible. I move closer to him on the couch to straddle his waist and take his face in my hands before answering him. I could get lost in his beautiful brown eyes if I stare too long, so I kiss him briefly. “Alright.”
He wraps his arms securely around me and pours so much passion into his kiss. He stands with me still in his arms, never removing his lips from mine, and I know that our dinner is going to be cold when we finally get around to eating it.
CHAPTER 8
The alarm screaming next to me is the only thing that pulls me out of bed to get up for work. It’s going to be a long day, starting my new weekly routine sans Ryan. That thought alone is enough to tempt me to crawl back under the sheets and call in sick. But an alert on my phone reminds me that I’m supposed to meet with Mr. Miller, so I have to be on my game.
I spent the entire weekend curled up in bed crying my eyes out. Mom called to check on me, I ignored it. Joss and Cam both texted me, but I only sent them a short response that I was okay. My sister was relentless, calling at least five times, but I sent every single one to voicemail. The only call I did take was from Ryan. I tried my best to sound upbeat, but of course he could hear my sadness, and the concern was evident in his voice. I just did my best to push through and feigned interest in whatever it was he was telling me. The evenings felt so lonely without him; they still do. But I know it’s only been a couple of days.
Fortunately, when I look at my reflection in the mirror, I see that my eyes aren’t too puffy from crying although my nose is a little red from the constant wiping. Nothing that a bit of concealer can’t fix. I'm young, but everything about me just looks worn and old today. I draw my blonde hair into a messy ponytail so I can clean my face, hoping to wash away the tired appearance as well.
I make my way through our room to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee and I notice that our tiny apartment feels huge without him here. His side of the sink is noticeably vacant, I'm not tripping over his dirty laundry piled in the corner of the small bathroom, and I don't have to put the toilet seat down. Not that the toilet seat is a space issue, but it is a convenience issue.
I examine my face in the mirror while I run the shower to get the water warm, but as I'm about to step in, my phone rings. My stomach drops when I see his name flash on the screen. I wrap a towel around me and shut off the water before answering.
“Hey,” I answer, my voice tired and sad.
“Hey,” he manages back. I'm lifted slightly hearing that he sounds as miserable as me. “How’d ya sleep?”
“Not too good,” I admit. “The first night I could pretend you were gone for the weekend, but now reality is setting in. I’ll be waking up every morning without you. How did you sleep?”
“Not so good,” he pauses and takes a deep breath. “Shitty.”
I smile, knowing that he misses me, too. “I have a big meeting with Mr. Miller, today.”
“Okay, I don’t want to keep you, I just wanted to tell you I love you, Em.”
My voice comes out as a whisper. “I love you, too.”
I stay on the line and listen for him to hang up, and when he does I take a deep breath and exhale dramatically, keeping myself in check.
Why can't things just be easy?
Why can't I love yous be enough?
And why can't time stop, because now I'm running late for work.
* * *
“Excuse me, Elle,” I say, knocking on her office door. “Do you have a second? I’m getting ready to meet with Mr. Miller and wanted to go over a few things.”
“C’mon in, Emogen,” she says, motioning to the seat across from her desk. Elle is a well-put together specimen of a career woman. Before I met Ryan, she’s the type of woman I aspired to. Her tall, thin frame and strong facial features make her appear intimidating, but when you get to know her, she’s a kind woman and a great boss. “I needed to talk to you about this meeting anyway.”
“Is there a problem?”
“No, nothing like that. I just wanted to check the status since this is the first account you’ve handled on your own. Is everything going okay?”
“I believe so,” I say, pulling out his client form. “The budget for T.M. is fifty thousand dollars, and with everything Mr. Miller has requested, I believe it’s likely we’ll come in under budget. I need to know if that’s how you want to go with this, or do you want me to up-sell so we maximize profit?”
Elle sits back in her desk chair with an impressed smile on her face before she shakes her head. She points a finger in my direction. “You’re good, Emogen. Very good. That’s what I like to hear. If our client has a set budget, I do like to stick within their constraints, however, if we are able to offer additional things they didn’t consider, that’s how I like to do things.”
“Great,” I say, as I stand up and straighten my skirt. “I’m going to head out then and meet with him. I’ll be back to formalize all of the arrangements and see where things stand after today.”
When I leave her office, I ask Callie, our secretary, to give me direction to T.M. Enterprises. Even though we’ve lived in Denver for the last nine months, I still don’t know my way around too well. Callie has lived here all her life and knows the back roads, so I have enough time to make it to the meeting with no issues. I’ve managed to avoid being cornered by Cam so far. I know that she wants to make sure I’m okay, but the question alone is likely to leave me in tears, so I keep moving.
Until she catches me.
I knew she had a meeting of her own today, so I figured I would see her this afternoon. However, she breezes through the front doors and heads straight for my desk. “Got a second?”
Glancing at my watch, I still have more than enough time, and I curse how everything is in slow motion today. “Yeah, I have to leave in about twenty minutes. What’s up?”
“What’s up?” she repeats in annoyance. “You’re boyfriend just moved away, I called all weekend to check on you, and you didn’t pick up once. That’s what’s up.”
Now that I have been well chastised, I cock my head trying to assess how I should respond. She crosses her arms over her chest and rests her weight against the edge of my desk, letting me know she means business. There’s no way I’m getting out of this. Exasperation takes over and I do my best to relax before answering. “It sucks. No, it fucking sucks. I slept like hell, I look like hell, and I have to leave to handle my first solo client.” I stand up and gather everything I need for the meeting before finishing. “I don’t want to talk about this at all, but,” I pause and look at her, “come over for dinner tonight and I will talk. Joss is coming over; I got the same lecture from her. Besides, it’s time you two met each other, then you can both rip me apart for being an asshole.”
Cam steps aside and ushers me to the entrance. “What time?”
“Six?”
“M’kay.” She nods. “I’ll see you then. What can I bring?”
“I’m ordering in. We’ll just pick when you get there.”
Once I’m safely away, I can’t help but be thankful for the few friends I have out here. Moving away from everyone and everything I knew was tough, but when Joss came out here three months ago, it was as if something in my life finally went my way. And meeting Cam was just icing. I really hope these two like each other.
* * *
T.M. Enterprises is nestled on the third floor of an impressive building in the middle of downtown. The company is a relatively new start up that handles public relations for some of the smaller businesses in the area. My understanding is that the owner, Mr. Miller, worked for one of the larger firms in town. He noticed how often the others were overlooked because they weren’t Fortune 500 companies, so he branched out on his own about two years ago, and now runs one of the trendier, sought
out firms.
Their office space is quite similar to Elle E. Grant, informal but professional. Looking around the office, most of the staff appears to be young, and the interior design is modern. Any research I’ve done on T.M. Enterprises, up to this point, seems to be inaccurate. However, despite my growing nerves and concerns about my lack of knowledge, I’m determined to push past and prove that I have what it takes to pull off the corporate event Mr. Miller is looking for. I finally make eye contact with the receptionist when it appears she must have asked a question.
“I’m sorry,” I respond, finally looking at her. “Emogen Tate to see Mr. Miller.”
She nods and pushes a button on the phone before speaking. “Yes, sir. She’s here. Okay.” When she looks back at me she instructs me to take a seat. “He’ll be out in just a minute.”
I have a seat in one of the chairs, trying to relax, but it’s hard when you’re getting ready to pretend like you know what you’re talking about. Up to this point, I have only shadowed other planners, like Cam, and while it’s been helpful, it’s different when you’re going it alone. I try to appear confident, but I’m intimidated by thinking he’s going to see right through me. I glance at the phone in my hand to check my email and I have a few, one of which is from Ryan. I instantly smile, even without knowing what it says.
“Emogen.” I look up, startled, to see the man behind the voice, which I have heard numerous times. “Trey Miller.” He extends a hand. “Nice to meet you.” I stand up, take his hand and return the greeting. There’s something familiar about this man, although there’s no way I’ve met him before. He seems to have the same reaction but covers it well. “Why don’t we talk about what you’ve come up with before we drive all over the city?”