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I sighed. “Yep. That is when I figure out what I want for my next abode. Still debating between a posh penthouse in the centre or a cosy apartment on the outskirts.”
“Tough decision.” Sam sat down at the next chair near mine. “How about we get on with this meeting and—“
“Can we just go over the most pressing issues and we’ll reschedule for the rest? I’m not feeling a hundred percent into work today.”
“Missing your boyfriend already, huh?”
I shook my head at him. “Joe was never my boyfriend. I just let you and everyone else assume that because it was easier than to explain our thing.”
A singular brow of Sam’s rose quizzically. “Thing?”
“Joe and I, we’ve always been just friends. Friends who went through a dry spell together. And because we were both available, we helped each other deal with the situation. It was just weird, desperate sex fueled by lots of alcohol.”
Why did I tell Sam that? He didn’t need to know that TMI.
Sam slid over with his chair. “You should have explained that much earlier. I would have volunteered to get you in a very, very wet situation.”
“Sam.” My tone was chastising. Till I heard him laugh devilishly. He was pulling my leg. His attempt to change my mood. And it worked a bit. My lips stretched into a small smile.
This was the first time Sam and I were meeting alone since that long hug in the conference room. Now, Sam was looking at me with the same expression as the other time when he took me to that diner and encouraged me to vent. Today again, I gladly accepted his unspoken invite.
I sniffled back the tears that were threatening to pop over my eyelid. “I’m so confused. Sometimes, it feels like nothing’s changed. I go home and most of the time, Joe’s not there. I eat alone. Watch some TV alone. Wish goodnight from me to me. I’ve been living that life for weeks – months now. Then again, I know that my whole life has changed. Losing Joe, it’s like I lost my father all over again. I lost my one friend, the one constant person I had closest to a family for seven years. Life was comfortable and secure and easygoing with him. A stable kind of normality, you know. Until we ruined it. Now I can’t sleep more than four hours straight and I can’t even focus on work. My head is continuously throbbing with these million thoughts and questions about my future without Joe. I’m scared to move on.”
Sam set a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I’ve always thought of heartbreak as a wake-up call. A reminder that your life is more than just that relationship. Sometimes we give so much to someone else that we forget ourselves. You’ve just been handed the perfect chance to work on yourself now.”
“Where do I even begin?”
That was one simple question yet so enormous and heavy.
“Do you have some kind of bucket list?”
I chuckled more at myself than at him. “For many years, the one thing on my bucket list has been the same: have a brilliant career. That’s the one thing I’ve always known I wanted.”
“You’re allowed to dream for more than one thing. I’ll tell you what. We both love to brainstorm. So let’s do it for you.”
Sam reached for a paper pad and a pen. In big words, he titled the page in elegant cursive handwriting as ‘Project Lucille’.
“That’s a pretty big project to take on.”
“Doubting my capabilities now, are we, Ms Monroe?”
“Never.”
“Then let’s begin our brief. Of all the things the world advertises to us as an ideal next goal, which one is the most appealing to you?”
I shrugged a small shoulder. “Having my own apartment, I guess. Not as much appealing as it is logical.”
“A good start. See, not that hard.” Sam jotted down ‘apartment’ on the list. “What else? Maybe a dog? A Labrador perhaps. Or maybe you want to hit the gym. Train for a marathon. What do you want?”
I laughed at that. Not because he was being funny. I laughed because it was indeed hilarious that a thirty-year-old like me was unaware of having a single wish, want, or need other than her career.
“Okay, try this the other way. Ask yourself: What is it youdon’twant?”
One thing was for sure. My shoulders rose up in a long shrug. “I don’t want to be alone.”
This time, Sam didn’t persist with further brainstorming questions. A sudden pout showed up on his face. “Same boat as you on that one. Haven’t had a constant someone since my divorce five years ago.”
Divorce? I had no idea Sam was ever married to begin with. He had always oozed this aura of a Casanova kind of guy. Definitely didn’t come off as the marriage type of guy. But seemed like he hadn’t always been this man. And according to the deep wrinkles on his forehead, the reminder of his marriage wasn’t his fondest memory.
