A month passed ever since that day.

I still hadn’t opened the resignation letter Lucy left on my desk the last time I saw her. It went straight to the shredder, no questions asked.

The intercom buzzed, and my new secretary informed me of an upcoming meeting I would need to attend. Just hearing her old, croaky voice had me questioning why we even bothered having a Human Resources department if they only managed to find resources that were about to be depleted.

I thanked her and promptly went back to ignoring the world outside of my office. It could wait, I would catch up with it eventually.

The glass of scotch on my desk sat petrified with fear as my hand reached to grab it. I had been terrorizing my mini bar as of late, so much so that I would have expected an uprising at any given moment. 

It never came, and I’m glad it didn’t. There was only a set amount of change I could deal with before needing some time off, and while the company could survive without me, it wouldn’t be able to do so forever.

The competition had started getting serious, thanks to the shift in management. Our takeover was thwarted and Reynolds senior gave up the CEO chair. Lucy took his seat and just like that, the conflict began anew. Sins of the father and all that bullshit.

I was fairly certain that neither of us wanted it. It simply happened, be it because destiny or some other make-believe nonsense. 

Lucy’s absence left a hole bigger than I allowed myself to believe. She was naturally good at her job, and it felt great to know I had a friend in that damn building. It wasn’t even the sex, though I can’t say I didn’t enjoy that.  

Five years, almost six, had passed since I joined that company and Lucy had been the first person to actually give a fuck about me without having a hidden motive. I had become an expert at predicting how people would behave around me, they all followed similar patterns. 

She broke through without effort, though all good things must come to an end.

My gaze swept the vast emptiness of my office. The whirlwind of negativity growing in my chest swelled up in size, becoming a maelstrom of biblical proportions.

I began to actively hate that place and what It stood for, with every fiber of my being. Even the painting, that still sat on the easel by the window. I hadn’t touched in what felt like an eternity. In those days I barely even looked at it, fearing I might destroy it in a fit of rage — the same one I fought hard to control five years before.

Perhaps locking myself up in a dimly lit room for hours every day hadn’t been a smart decision. I could have brightened my office up, added all kinds of bells and whistles to make it feel homely. It wouldn’t have helped in the slightest. If anything, it would have probably made me dread going home, given the similarities.

The lines between my private life and my job became blurred as time went on. It was no secret I hated it, though I put up a friendly enough face with my associates. 

I still remember how I came close to ditching everything and running away on more than one occasion. Not everyone could afford to retire at my age. I couldn’t deny it, the temptation was definitely there. Day after day I felt myself inching closer to it.

Quitting everything was all but a pipe dream. As I flirted with the idea, however, I gradually morphed into a hermit. Letters inviting me to events and fundraisers piled up  and stood tall and proud on the small table near the main entrance door to my house, just waiting to be opened or thrown away. I didn’t see the point in subjecting myself to further torture, and besides, chances were I would have ran into Lucy.

I missed her, obviously. I kept trying to convince myself she had been just a secretary, and failed miserably each and every single time. It wasn’t just the sex, or rather, it wasn’t just sex. There was a connection between us, however feeble it may have been at times. I couldn’t deny it and I was certain that neither could she. If only I’d realized that sooner, perhaps things would have gone differently.

I made a mistake, a big one at that.

My phone buzzed in my breast pocket and jolted me awake, dragging me back into reality in the blink of an eye.

I pulled out and reflexively declined the call, without even registering who dared bother me on my private line. My sister, it appeared. I thanked my subconscious for making that decision for me and turned off my phone.

Annalise was the last person I wanted to talk to. We’d never been close to begin with, and I fully intended on maintaining the status quo. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last conversation we’d had, though I was fairly sure it ended with her screaming at my face. 

Our relationship went sour when my father chose me to lead the company rather than her, and it hadn’t recovered since. I couldn’t blame her for how she felt, God knows I would have been furious too, had I actually wanted the position.

I was, to some extent. We all knew I wanted nothing to do with our family’s company. I was an Art major, for fuck’s sake, something my father never accepted. I bet the old bastard’s still laughing in his grave. I wouldn’t know, I hadn’t been there ever since the funeral.

The clock struck seven, signaling the end of yet another self-imposed long and dreadful day. The elevator took me straight to the garage. I gave James the week off, insisting he’d take it to focus on his health. The man’s age was quickly catching up to him, and all those cigarettes surely didn’t aid his case.

Getting behind the wheel for the first time in months felt decidedly alien. I usually rode in the back, and never though twice about it. Yet there I was, driving like any other human being. It knocked me down a peg or two, despite sitting on the leather seats of a Bentley.

Perhaps I valued myself too much, or maybe I just needed to reevaluate my  existence. The fact that a mundane action such as driving would prompt that sort of question gave me a rare moment of clarity, an epiphany that made me realize just how disconnected with reality I had become over the years.

It used to be vastly different, though times were always changing. The man that stared back when I looked at the rear view mirror wasn’t the same one that couldn’t be seen without a brush in his hand just a few years prior. 

The same process that turned me into the seething ball of negativity I saw myself as, would soon corrupt Lucy as well. Strong as she may have been, she still stood no chances against that unstoppable machine. No one could rise up to it, no matter how hard they tried. It’s  been attempted before. Every one of its victims tries to fight back — I know I did back in the day — yet eventually it wins. 

I drew a deep breath and finally found the courage to get going. 

The busy streets of Manhattan took on a very different aspect from my new position. I was forced to pay attention to my surroundings rather than lazily take in the bright lights of the city. I was part of the world rather than it being just a backdrop to my life. In a certain way, I was part of someone else’s scenery too, just an extra going about his life as the protagonist minds its own.

That day brought forth quite a few realizations. I was just fine without them, or at least I pretended I was. Traffic jams will be the end of me.