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Evan
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The seatbelt sign turns off with a ding and suddenly the plane is full of sounds. Everyone unbuckles their seatbelts at the same time and the people at the very front of the plane are already standing up and opening the overhead compartments. Since I’m in an aisle seat, I take advantage of the chance to stand up and stretch my legs. It feels good to unfold myself from the seat and I reach up to open the compartment over my head.
I had been so wrapped up in the book I’m reading that I had almost forgotten Sophia is sitting across the aisle, one row back from where I am. Which now means that my butt is practically in her face. Great. Nothing awkward about that.
I turn my body a little but make it a point not to look down at where she’s sitting. It’s easier if I just pretend that I’m not aware of her presence.
Maybe it’s rude, but I guess I don’t really care. I’m not here to make her feel better, am I?
The people in the rows in front of me are gathering their belongings and heading up the aisle towards the exit. The couple that was sitting in the row in front of Sophia get up and head towards the door, so now I reach up into the overhead compartment and grab my rolling suitcase. I push it in front of me and try to quickly get off the plane so that Sophia isn’t following too closely behind me.
I follow the signs to luggage claim and ground transportation. It occurs to me that Sophia and I could be expected to share a taxi to our hotel, so I start walking faster and hope that she has a checked bag that will keep her from being at the taxi stand at the same time as me.
I rush past luggage claim and head straight to the front of the empty taxi line. Before I know it, I’m in the backseat making small talk with the driver as we whiz our way towards the hotel. That’s a relief. At least I didn’t get stuck in the same taxi as Sophia.
My good luck turns to bad when I get to the front desk at the hotel. The computer system is down and the desk clerk has to reboot his computer before he can check me in. I’ve been standing there for at least twenty minutes when Sophia comes through the front doors into the hotel lobby, rolling a full-size suitcase behind her.
Apparently, she did get delayed at luggage claim, but I lost my head start all the same. The hotel clerk miraculously hands me my room key just in time and I thank him before heading to the elevators, happy to have avoided coming into contact with Sophia. Call me a wimp, but I’m just not in the mood to deal with being around her.
Once I’m in my room, I sink onto the bed, ready to just chill out for the rest of the night. But then I remember that the whole finance team is having a joint dinner with the marketing department to kick off the trip. My whole mad dash to the hotel seems ridiculous now that I realize I’ll have to sit at the same table as Sophia for at least an hour or two. Well, this is just great. I fly all the way to Seattle and I still end up being stuck having dinner with my ex-girlfriend.
Resigning myself to the dinner, I check my work email on my laptop to remind myself of when we’re supposed to meet in the lobby. It’s five o’clock now and we are meeting at six, so I’ve got one hour to burn before I need to leave. In the meantime, I decide to unpack and at least hang up my suit for tomorrow before it gets too wrinkled. I also go back to my work laptop and quickly scan through my inbox, checking to see if there are any emails about tomorrow’s meeting that may have come through while I was on the plane.
There is an email from the director of finance, who is Jeff’s boss. I’m surprised to see his name in my inbox because we rarely communicate. His email is addressed to himself, so I’m assuming the recipients are blind copied so we don’t know who else is getting the email. All it says is that Jeff won’t be on the trip to Seattle. He mentions that I am to take the lead during the meetings, which isn’t much of a surprise because Jeff had already handed that off to me.
I’m still wondering why Jeff won’t be in Seattle when my phone rings and I look at the screen to check who it is. I’m surprised to see that it’s my mom. Wondering why she’d be calling me now, I answer the phone.
“Hey Mom,” I say. “How are you?”
“Hi, honey!” she says, “I’m good. I was just thinking about how I haven’t talked to you since you left after Christmas. I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. Don’t you have a work trip coming up soon?”
“Yeah,” I answer, “I’m actually in Seattle right now. I flew in earlier today.”
“Oh!” She sounds surprised. “I didn’t realize you were out of town. Do you need me to let you go?”
“No, that’s okay,” I say. “I’m supposed to have dinner with my co-workers, but I’ve got some time before I’m supposed to go meet them.”
“Okay dear,” she says. “I’m glad you made it there safely. Is this the trip you’re taking where Sophia is going to be there, too?”
We hadn’t talked much about my breakup when I was home for the holidays, but my mom knows that I’m not with Sophia anymore. She seemed disappointed for me but didn’t pry too much or ask too many questions. I had mentioned that I’d be seeing Sophia at work and on this trip.
“Yes, she’s here,” I say. “We were on the same flight to Seattle.”
“Well, that’s good!” My mom sounds happy about it. “So that means you’ve talked to her, right?”
“No,” I answer, “we still haven’t talked directly to each other.”
She seems surprised and a little worried. “Evan, that doesn’t sound very nice. You’ve had meetings with her and you were on the same plane, but you haven’t even said hello to her?”
I silently roll my eyes, knowing that my mom probably thinks that I’m just being stubborn and not talking to Sophia out of spite. Little does she know how Sophia treated me. If she knew all the details, she’d be more on my side and wouldn’t be feeling so sorry for her.
“Mom, it’s complicated,” I try to explain. “It wasn’t a pleasant breakup.”
“Well, they usually aren’t pleasant, are they?” she asks with some chagrin.
“No, but this is different, Mom,” I say. “Sophia really messed up and I haven’t been able to forgive her yet. I just can’t see myself forgetting what she did and then acting like nothing is wrong.”
She pauses and I can almost hear her thinking. “Evan, I’m sorry that she hurt you. And I hope you know that I’m always on your side, no matter what. But, have you stopped to consider how she feels right now?”
“No,” I say shortly. “Why would I?”
“Because she’s human, Evan,” she says. “Sophia made a mistake and I’m sure she’s beating herself up over it. I don’t know all the details, but I can’t imagine you dating someone who would intentionally hurt you. She did something wrong and now you’re punishing her by not treating her like a decent human being. How would you want to be treated if you made a massive mistake that ruined such a good relationship?”
I sigh and rub my hand over my eyes before I answer. “Yeah, I see what you mean. I’m just so angry at her still. I’m not sure what I’d even say if I did talk to her. Part of me worries that I’ll just yell at her to make sure she’s ashamed of what she did to me.”
Even though the breakup with Sophia has been on my mind every day since it happened, this is the first time I’ve ever opened up about it and explained to someone how it has made me feel. It seems almost like a huge boulder has rolled off my chest. I hadn’t realized how much work it was taking to hold everything inside until just now.
My mom pauses and then says, “I’m sorry, Evan. I’m sorry you’re hurting and I’m sorry to be the one to tell you that you need to talk to her. I know you don’t want to, but especially with the two of you working together and being on a work trip, you can’t keep ignoring her. She’s not going anywhere. And the longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be.”
“You’re right,” I say, sighing. “I do need to talk to her. I guess tonight would be a good chance to do that since we’ll be stuck in the same meeting room for the next few days.”
“Good,” she says, sounding happier. “I’m glad you’re going to talk to her. You’re a good man and it doesn’t suit you to ignore someone or disregard their emotions. Just be honest with her about how you feel. You don’t have to get back together or be best friends, but you do need to be civil enough to work together.”
“Yeah, I know,” I say. My heart had jumped a little bit when my mom mentioned getting back together. It hadn’t even occurred to me that it would be an option. I guess I need to be careful when I talk to Sophia so she knows I’m not trying to reconcile to the point of dating each other again. I want her to realize that I’m still upset, but am willing to be congenial when needed.
“I’m proud of you, honey,” my mom says. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I say and hang up the phone.
By the time I get off the phone with my mom, it’s time for me to head downstairs to the lobby and meet everyone for dinner. I take the elevator down and walk into the lobby. Sophia is standing there all by herself. She must be the first one down here. As I walk over to her, my mom’s words echo in my head about Sophia being human and beating herself up over the break-up.
I get closer to her and realize that she’s much thinner than she was when we were dating, almost to the point of looking unhealthy. Her hair, which used to be shiny and smooth, is dull and frizzy. She looks up and sees me coming towards her.
I can tell she’s surprised that I’m even making eye contact with her. I wonder how she’s felt with me basically ignoring her at work for the last couple of weeks. As I walk up next to her and give her a small smile, there is shock on her face at my friendliness. Dang, was I honestly that rude to her that she’s surprised I’m smiling at her?
An emotion I can’t immediately put my finger on starts to grow and it takes me a minute to realize that it’s compassion. Even though I’m still upset with Sophia for what she did, that doesn’t take away how strongly I cared about her when we were together. I’m slightly ashamed that I’ve acted like such a jerk to her at work. I make a mental resolution to be nicer to her.
“Hi,” I say when I reach her. “How are you?”
“Um, I’m okay. How are you?” she responds automatically, still surprised that I’m talking to her, and probably even more surprised that I’m smiling in her presence.
“I’m good. I was hoping that we could talk after dinner. Would that be okay?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She hesitates. “I’m surprised you want to talk to me. I thought you hated me.”