You Lost Me

Damian

Whoever thought walls of windows were a suitable solution for a corporate building was wrong. Never once have I thought to myself, “Wow, I really love these windows,” but I’ve cursed them several times. Never more so than now.

Angel and I lock eyes as I exit my office where I had drawn my blinds, having known she was coming today. Mitchell told me the meeting was after lunch, so I assumed I’d have time to run to document storage and back before she arrived. Standing here, looking at her with my arms full of manilla folders, I’d say that was a wrong assumption.

My mouth gapes as I try and fail to find the right words to explain my presence. I mentally curse Elliot when he flags me into the room with an obnoxious, flailing arm. No sense in pretending I didn’t see him.

I enter the room, sweating under my charcoal suit. Angel is standing next to a laptop, wearing a navy floral pencil skirt, light pink blouse and strappy heels that remind me of our first kiss. The main difference between then and now, aside from the lower heels, is that she’s glaring at me with hatred in her eyes.

“Elliot, Mitchell.” I nod at them, delaying acknowledging Angel as long as possible. “Angel.” I send her a pleading look, hoping she can see the regret in my eyes for not disclosing my role before now.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Angel mutters loud enough for all three of us to hear. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.” She doesn’t break eye contact with me as she walks toward the door.

She can’t lose this job on my account.

“Angel, wait.” I try to grab her arm as she walks past, but she rips it from my hand.

“Don’t touch me. You lied to me,” she seethes.

I watched her keep her composure when a man groped her and got her fired. The fact she’s losing her cool right now tells me I’ve really screwed up.

“I didn’t lie. Please, come to my office and let me explain.” I look at Elliot and Mitchell, who are both staring at this office drama I’ve always tried to avoid.

“No. I trusted you. I confided in you. And it never once occurred to you to tell me you were the boss at my new job? You didn’t think I deserved to know? Did you make them hire me?” She raises her arm to point back at Mitchell and Elliot, never taking her eyes off of me.

“This is exactly why I didn’t say anything when you told me where you were working. I had no idea you’d been hired, and I had nothing to do with it.”

She drops her gaze to look at her feet and it feels like a brick wall assembles between us. “I might have believed that if you’d told me before. I’m not sure I can now.” She exhales, causing her shoulders to droop as she turns to address the two silent observers in the room. “Thanks again for the opportunity. I’ll leave my badge with security when I leave.”

Both Elliot and Mitchell jolt to stand, but I’m already trying to talk Angel out of quitting. I stammer and struggle to find the right thing to say, and my anger with myself is reflected in my words. “You can’t leave, Angel. Don’t give up on this.”

She had stepped past me on her way out the door, so she spins back around, jabbing a blush pink fingernail in my chest. “What ‘this’ are you talking about, Damian? Oh, sorry, Mr. Taylor. The job or us?”

“I mean—”

“You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’m done with both. The one thing I can’t handle is dishonesty. You knew…” Tears pool in her eyes and I’ve never felt like a bigger idiot. “You knew it was important to me. You may not have lied, but you deceived me and withheld the truth. I don’t care what you tell yourself to justify that.”

There’s nothing left for me to say. Not here, anyway. Not in front of an audience of people I’m supposed to maintain an image of professionalism in front of. I can’t grovel, begging her to see my reasoning. If I thought getting on my knees and asking for her forgiveness would help right now, I would.

So instead of begging, I stay silent. Hang my head. Absorb her well-deserved anger. Soak in the pitying stares of men who are supposed to respect me. All because I made the wrong call.

I should have just been honest.

When she walks away, it hurts more than anything has since the day my dad left. The man I’ve spent my life trying to prove to that no job is worth the people you care about.

What a miserable failure I am.

“Make sure she gets paid for the work she did,” I say to Elliot before exiting the room to retreat to the safety of my office.

When I knock on the door of my brother’s house Saturday afternoon, his wife Lily answers and her facial expression tells me she’s as surprised as I am that I ended up here. I couldn’t stay in my condo another minute, and when that wasn’t enough, I didn’t want to be in the city either.

“Damian, hi!” She pulls me in for a hug.

“Hey, Lil. Is he home?”

Lily nods as my nieces, Daisy and Dahlia, come running from the family room, nearly bowling me over with their excited hugs. This is what I need today. To feel loved. To not feel like an utter failure. These little girls never fail to bring a smile to my face, just by existing.

“Girls, let Uncle Damian come in. You have good timing, D. Mom’s here, too.”

“Seriously? I’m not interrupting anything, am I? I just…”

“Get in here. We’re happy to have you.” Lily leans in, squeezing me again as a woman who is like a second mother would.

I’m not even out of the foyer, and already the tension I brought with me is melting away. When I enter the family room and see my mom and brother, I feel even lighter. “Surprise.”

Josh stands to greet me with a wide smile. “Little brother. What brings you here?”

“I wanted to get out of the city for a bit, so I figured what better place to come than here?”

My mom remains seated, so after a literal bro-hug from Josh, I lean down to embrace my mother and plant a kiss on her cheek.

“What a pleasant surprise. I didn’t know you were coming today.”

My mom and I sit next to each other on a deep red sectional sofa, leaving room for Lily to sit beside Josh.

“I didn’t know I was coming either. It felt like a good family day, I guess.”

Daisy climbs on my lap, which she’s almost getting too big for, and I take a moment to soak in the pure joy from an eight-year-old child who exudes optimism like a ray of sunshine. I kiss my niece on the top of her head and make conversation with her for a while about school, dance, and her friends. I got suckered into buying three chocolate bars for a fundraiser for new playground equipment. The chocolate reminds me of Angel.

Daisy and Dahlia skip off to do something more exciting than listening to adults talk, and Lily pops up to tend to something in the kitchen.

“Okay, what’s going on with you?” My brother, who is the closest thing to a father figure I have, knows me better than anyone.

“Nothing. Why do I need a reason to stop by?” Why am I lying to my brother?

“You don’t, but it looks like there is a reason. Don’t make me tell mom.” Josh has always been a jokester and always made me laugh, but even as I hear Mom giggle beside me, I can’t force one out.

“I’m fine. Really.”

“Mom, Damian’s being difficult!” Josh whines in a childish voice, which does make me laugh. “You show up at my house unannounced, which, believe me, I’m not complaining about, looking like someone kicked your puppy, then deny anything is wrong. I don’t buy it.”

What did I get from hiding the truth from Angel? I’m an idiot. Live and learn, Damian. I glance at my mother, who’s sitting as a silent observer with her forehead creased and her hands crossed in her lap. She’s ready to listen, so I decide to talk. “Fine. Girl trouble.” I shrug, trying to downplay how much this “trouble” is really bothering me.

It takes ten minutes to explain the situation to Mom and Josh, not sparing a detail. They listen to me whine and complain, defend my choices, and question everything I am before Josh responds.

“Your pride is going to keep you from getting everything you want. You’re so stuck on proving you’re different from your dad, you’re missing what’s right in front of you. Run your own race. Live your own life. Don’t be him.”

I look at my mom who hasn’t said a thing, but she’s one of those people who says things with her face, so words aren’t needed. She’s thinking about my dad, and I hate that the mere mention of his name still makes her grimace.

“He needs someone to talk some sense into him, Mom.”

Mom smirks at Josh. When her eyes settle on me, the look that was there disappears. “You really like this girl.” It’s a statement. Not a question.

“I do. She’s… different.”

She reaches over to grab my hand. “Then it seems like a simple solution, don’t you think?”

“You didn’t see her. I screwed up.” I rub my thumb over the back of Mom’s hand.

“No. You screwed up from her perspective, but from yours, you made the best decision you could. What she’s afraid of, you didn’t do. Make sure she knows that.”

“You think it’s easy to forgive because you’re my mom. I doubt she’ll even talk to me. At least, not for a while.”

“Then send her a letter, Damian! Hire a carrier pigeon, for all I care. A skywriter. A billboard. Do what you have to do to tell her she’s different. That she’s worth it.” A single tear trails down Mom’s cheek, but she swipes it away with the hand I’m not holding.

I’m not sure if it’s my situation or the reminder of hers that’s making her so emotional.

“Okay. I will.”

Lily lightens the mood by calling everyone for dinner, which I wasn’t expecting, but I’m going to enjoy with my family, anyway. While we eat and conversation floats around the table, I start formulating a plan to prove to Angel that I can be trusted. That honesty will be my only policy from now on.