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I need to move forward without forgetting Laura’s memory or our love for each other. After much soul-searching, I realize that honoring her memory is the only way I will ever heal from my grief and find peace again in this world without her by my side.
But moving on is hardest than it appears…
1
Zane
As I walk down the hallway of the prestigious New York City law firm headquarters, I pause briefly to take in the hustle and bustle of a typical Tuesday morning. I smile at the sight of the familiar faces, grateful to be a part of such an organization.
The walls of the office display framed certificates and plaques, memorializing the moments of success achieved here. As I approach mine, the employees in the hall look up at me with a mix of respect and admiration. I give a friendly nod, a gesture that is soon followed by a series of murmurs about the head of the firm.
I step into my office, appreciating the view of the city skyline that can be seen through the tall windows. Before long, the business of the day takes over in full force. The phone rings, and the emails flood in. Each message represents a new challenge, a different case to handle and a chance to prove myself against the best. I’m up to the task, as I have been for the past ten years.
As the morning continues, my success becomes more and more clear. I’m able to handle each case expertly, winning the admiration and respect of my colleagues.
By noon, the office is bustling, and the atmosphere is electric. Everyone is eager to hear the verdicts. I’ve settled most cases out of court, much to the delight of the clients, and it appears the success of the firm is only moving in one direction.
The afternoon proceeds in much the same way, and now it’s time for me to leave. As I step out of the office, the junior associates clap. I’m determined to continue striving for even more success, and the sense of pride and respect from my co-workers in that moment only fuels my ambition. I make my way to the elevator, and as I step onto it, a few words echo in my mind: The Prestige of Success.
Exiting the elevator and walking through the revolving doors, I stand on the sidewalk, looking up at the sky. The sun is setting, bathing the city in a soft orange light. I stifle a yawn.
A typical day for me starts at four in the morning and sometimes ends around midnight. Depending on the cases, and what needs to be done, I might not get any sleep at all. My body is used to it by now, after having been doing this for almost a decade. Many junior associates think that the higher you are at the firm, the fewer hours you put in, and for me, it’s actually the opposite.
Just as I’m about to turn and head home, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and see my sister’s name on the display. Oh, god what does she want now?
“Hey, sis! What’s up?”
“I just wanted to call and check in and make sure you’re all set for the wedding.”
I sigh. I’ve been hoping she wouldn’t be calling again. My assistant is on the ball and has already picked up a wedding gift. Without her, I wouldn’t survive.
“What do you mean?”
“So, should I put you down for a plus one?”
My family has been subtly hinting I need to bring someone, awaiting the chance to introduce me to possible new partners and to finally put an end to the mourning for my wife I lost ten years ago. Dating hasn’t exactly been on my priority list.
Here’s my dilemma. Go by myself, and listen to my family complain the whole night about me being single, and trying to set me up with everyone under the sun or find someone to take as my plus one, and get my family off of my back for a while. Such a hard decision, right?
“I have a plus one. Don’t worry about it. I gotta go.”
My career has taken center stage and what woman aspires to be with a man who has no time? Sometimes I work fourteen-hour days. Sure, it’s lonely, but where in the world will I find time to incorporate dating into my world? Especially nowadays, when women freak out if you don’t text them all the time.
My sister has been hammering me the past couple of years that it’s time to move on and find someone to take care of me. Like I can’t take care of myself. I have more money than I know what to do with, and even though I’m lonely sometimes, this means I don’t have to deal with drama. Forgetting birthdays or anniversaries because of my hectic schedule. The mere thought of dating someone makes my stomach knot up.
I’ve been working so hard, I barely have time for myself, let alone to go out and find someone. My family might think it’s weird for me to be forty and single, but they shouldn’t be so focused on me. They need to worry about themselves.
Losing my wife has been the hardest thing in my life. She never got to see me flourish at the firm and believe me when I say she was my biggest supporter. She always used to say that I could argue my way out of anything. And now, after much success, I believe she was right. Sadly, she isn’t here to see any of it, but I carry her with me every day.
I sigh and start walking towards home, my mind processing how my family is sort of right. Sometimes I wish I had someone to share my life with, someone to come home to at the end of a long day, but it’s an impossible dream. My career has been given priority over my personal life and there is no going back.
2
Willow
My stomach flip-flops as if I’m already inside as I pull into the parking lot. Beads of sweat form along my hairline and my heart pounds. I slowly step out of the car, taking in the sleek lines of the high-rise office building in front of me. The sun is just rising, glimmering off the tall glass windows and giving the building an aura of mystery. I stand motionless, taking a deep breath, anxiety swirling through me.
My steps are heavy and labored as I enter the building. I hesitate at the revolving door, unsure of what lies ahead, and bite my lip to will myself forward. The job description given has been vague, only mentioning an executive assistant position for Mr. Donnelly, but I’m eager to find out more.
