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I knew Dana wanted to know more but knew better than to ask. I was usually unforgiving when it came to other people’s mistakes. I didn’t tolerate tardiness or poor performances at work. I rarely gave second chances to anyone. I paid my staff well and I expected them to perform to the best of their abilities. My expectations were high, of them as well as myself.
But it was different with Natalie.
I couldn’t explain this to Dana.
I wasn’t entirely sure why either.
What I had felt last night had been remarkable. I tried to think of the women I had been with and none of them had had this effect on me. Even Skye, whom I’d married, had not affected me like this. I had always thought I was justified in ending my relationship with Natalie in college. I thought she had tried to trap me into marrying her by pretending to be pregnant. It had been a shock to me at the time, the thought that the only girl I had ever trusted, had turned against me like this.
I had not told Natalie much about my childhood, she only knew that it wasn’t particularly happy. I didn’t like talking about it and she never pressed me for details. Eventually, I told her about the little apartment my parents lived in now. How they’d lost the house, my father unable to hold on to any job. The money lost on bad business decisions and investment choices. I was ashamed of how I’d grown up; the stench of failure that I had grown up with. I’d heard so many stories from my father over the years, the wonderful investment opportunities that never quite panned out. Or the business venture he was about to start with someone we’d never met, who needed to wrap up some other business first or needed seed funding that they would disappear with. My mother grew smaller, her hair grey, and I could not remember the last time she’d laughed. They ended up having to sell the house and moving into a small apartment, living off their disability payouts.
Ever since high school, I’d been working weekends, trying to make money. Even in college, I drove a taxi at night to pay for my studies. I sometimes gave my mother money for food, but I refused to speak to my father. He was the reason why I drove myself so hard, why I wanted to be successful. I never wanted to hide from debt collectors or watch strangers carrying out the television set we could no longer afford.
I didn’t have friends in high school. There wasn’t any time. I was always off to mow a neighbor’s lawn or picking up a late shift at the grocery store. I was busy, even then. Most of my peers were hanging around, making stupid jokes, training for a swimming gala, or picking up girls. I was trying to get extra money so that I would be able to go on the school outing to Washington DC or be able to afford sneakers. I was too ashamed of my family to bring anyone home after school. By the time I went to college, I was used to not having friends. There would be one or two people I’d talk to in class, usually about getting notes for classes I’d missed or borrowing books when I couldn’t afford them. I didn’t belong to social clubs and didn’t miss it either. The little free time I had from all my extra jobs, I spent studying. Until I’d met Natalie, I’d never even thought of having a girlfriend. Then she came into my life, and it was like clouds had parted and the sun came out. Ever since we’d broken up, I’d avoided thinking back to the time we were together, as if it was better to forget how good it had been then.
Because it was.
With Natalie in my life, there was sweetness and lightness that had not been there before. Why had I been so adamant to forget about her goodness, the happiness she’d brought me back then?
“Sam?” I was lost in thought. Dana was reminding me of my next meeting.
“I’m going out,” I said, grabbing my jacket. “Move it to another time.”
She came running after me. “But it’s with… “
“I don’t care,” I interrupted her. “I have to take care of something.”
As I got into the elevator, I could hear her calling after me, “When will you be back?”
I didn’t answer.
This was why I’d employed Dana in the first place, to take care of the things I didn’t want to think about. To talk to people I didn’t feel like speaking to. She knew what excuses to make and which stories to tell.
I took the car and headed home.
I had to speak to Natalie.
I didn’t know where she was or how to get hold of her. I tried her phone again, but it was still switched off. As soon as I got home, I went up to her room, looking in her wardrobe. Most of her stuff was still there, her clothes and shoes. In the bathroom, her toiletries were neatly stacked against the wall. I looked up and saw myself in the mirror. I took a moment to take stock of what I was seeing. I liked what I saw. My hair looked good, my shirt was cut well, I was in good shape. But in my eyes, there was something I didn’t like so much. A hardness that had set in around the eyes.
I turned away quickly, before these kinds of thoughts ran away with me.
Natalie would go home to her parents. They lived in Cape Cod, and I was sure I’d find it again. She had taken me to see them a few times in college. It was not a long drive, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to rest until I’d seen her. I had no doubt in my mind that I would convince her to give us a chance. I knew that what I had felt the night before had not been only on my part. She had felt it too. It had spooked her, sure, but I knew I had a shot with her.
It had been in her face, in her body language. When we’d kissed, she had not turned away from me or reacted with shock. She had responded, kissing me back and that had been an instinctive reaction. Her mind had no time to tell her what to do. This was her heart talking. Despite everything that had happened between us, she still felt something for me. It was undeniable. I don’t know how long that kiss lasted. It could have been only for a few seconds but somehow, it felt longer, like time had stopped. For a few moments, we were in each other’s arms, and nothing mattered. Until, of course, it did. The world came crashing back to us and it broke everything apart. But it wasn’t shattered, all wasn’t lost. I would be able to put this together again.
I was a fixer after all. I had spent years working on finding solutions for companies, to sort out their processes and streamline their operations. Whenever a new client told me about their way of working, and presented me with a new set of obstacles, I never felt overwhelmed or exhausted. I saw it as a fresh set of hurdles to overcome and I always overcame them.
Always.
I could fix this too.
