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I wish Dominic was here. Like so many times over the past three weeks, I picture his handsome grin, and how he would pull me into his arms and everything would seem bearable.
How much loss must one experience to cope better? I was a child when Mom died. Losing her was profound, but I was shielded from it by my young age, my family, and later on by Bianca’s family.
After Kyle, my heart was broken into a million pieces. Small shards I’ve never picked up. I’ve lost many people over the years. Most of them strangers, clients, acquaintances who touched my life briefly.
And yet, grieving the loss of Dominic has scraped me raw. I can’t even dive into the stages of grief because I haven’t reached denial yet. For the first time in my life, I can’t access anger. I’m just numb.
The days pass around me, and I go through the motions, mind over matter. I pretend most of the time, which is fucking exhausting. I pretend for my father and Bianca. I pretended at Hunter’s opening of the new gym, and have avoided Syd ever since.
I pretend in front of my team at the foundation, and here in the hospice.
I pretend in front of Patagonia, who has leaned into the unofficial leader’s role at the legal clinic, and takes enormous pleasure in reporting every single accomplishment to me.
I’m not sure if Dominic put her up to that. If he did, it’s just plain cruel. The whole clinic is like a slap in the face. And I can’t just cancel it. None of those people, clients or volunteers, would deserve that.
I head down to the reception area and sit in an armchair by the entrance. After I don't know how long, I dial my office.
“Ashley, I’m not coming in today. Anything urgent?”
I’m facing the front window. It’s been overcast since Dominic left. Disgusting slush covers the streets. I wish I was in the Caribbean, or Hawaii. Here, the gray weather just laughs in my face. Thank you very much, Mother Nature, for matching my mood.
“All good here. We completed the funding agreements for the research projects and the money has been transferred as of this morning,” Ashley reports. We received a large anonymous donation covering the funding I was so desperately missing.
A part of me suspects the source is Dominic. It makes me feel all sorts of things, starting with resentment that he’s trying to hijack all the spheres of my life even after he left. Or is that an apology? Screw him.
But there is another unfortunate outcome of his gesture—hope. Hope that it was him. Hope that it means he’s reconsidering his decision. Hope that he wants to come back. Hope. Hope. Hope.
“That’s good. Ashley, can you take over the oversight of the legal clinic? Pass some of the admin tasks to a volunteer if you need to free up the time, but I need to focus on other things.”
Like avoiding anything that reminds me of Dominic. A fucking behemoth task since we used to share a hallway, and I can’t not think about him every time I enter my building and see Cesare.
Yes, I know his name. I even chat with him occasionally because I’m that pathetic. Somehow, it makes me connected to Dominic. Oh my God, I’ll have to move.
“Of course. I’ll get in touch with Patagonia and take care of things on this side. Before I forget, there is a potential donor who would like to meet in person. Can I set it up?”
Oh, I really don’t have the energy to meet with people, to schmooze, to even pretend interest, but I can’t pass on opportunities like this. “Okay, set it up, my calendar is pretty much open.”
“It’s in Denver. Would you mind if I tag along?”
She hasn’t tried to participate in fundraiser meetings before, but I guess even Ashley sees how incapable I currently am. “Denver? Really? Who is it? Why our foundation? You better look into them, Ashley, so we don’t waste our time. And yes, if it’s a highly probable target, let’s go together.”
I should walk. The streets are matching my mood anyway, and I’m hoping to clear my head. Of what I’m not sure, because there is no clearing my mind of him. But I can try to move a bit, at least for a few blocks.
For years, I've done my work out of guilt and duty, and while I’ve always loved it, I found a lot of frustration and anger in it. Dominic changed that. He somehow sucked me into his stupid enthusiasm and relentless drive, and showed me joy in grave situations.
His ideas, his ability to get energized about possibilities. He doesn’t see them as another insurmountable mountain that you climb only to discover there is a swamp to pass, an ocean to swim. Another barrier. A new hurdle.
He sees everything as an opportunity or a challenge, and tackles them with winning energy.
At the same time, he enjoys any victory. Even a small one. Where I would get immediately sucked intothere is more to do, he celebrates the milestone by hitting the road running toward the next one.
I don't know if it’s a healthy way of doing things, but what little of his enthusiasm has rubbed off on me has made me happier than I’ve been in years. And prouder of my accomplishments.
I can’t discount the fact that the foundation achieves more with that attitude. I can throw all the money in the world at the problem, but it’s my mindset that makes the difference.
I have Dominic to thank for that. Even though right now it’s hard to find that mindset. Also something I have him to thank for. And for the mind-blowing orgasms. And what was it all good for? He left me anyway.
He chose his shady client and stormed out. Over the past few weeks, I’ve considered a life where he’d do what he does and I’d just look the other way. On multiple occasions, late at night, unable to sleep and staring at the ceiling, miserable and lonely, I picked up the phone to call him. Almost.
