Sarah
Saturday and Sunday pass in long stretches of inspired thought, tormented heartbreak, thoughts of the future, and zero messages from Frank. I consider reaching out time and time again. Hell, I’ve had messages typed into my phone only to delete them just before I hit send. Once, I actually get in my car with the intent of driving over to his apartment and getting into a giant fight.
I want to know if he really did sleep with Bree. If he did, fine. I’ll move on. But if he didn’t, the way every single instinct I have keeps telling me, then I want to know why in the world he told me he did. I like him too much to just walk away. What we have, what he is to me, what I thought I was to him…it deserves a fight.
But, I get out of the car without ever turning it on. Maybe I’m being ridiculous. Maybe Frank doesn’t want to fight for us. He was so quick to turn his back on me.
And round and round I go, lost in a winding trail of what ifs.
By the time Monday morning rolls around, I know one thing for sure. I owe Frank more than money. I owe him everything. I get up and get ready as if it were any other normal day, but instead of stopping at reception to put my things at my desk, I march right down the hall to Brian Kent’s office and push through the door much to the dismay of his very surprised administrative assistant.
“Mr. Kent.” I stride up to his desk and glare down at him.
“Ms. Carmichael. I wasn’t aware our meeting had been moved up.”
His statement is news to me. I’m sure he planned to fire me today. I’m here to make his job that much easier. “Well, I wasn’t even aware we had a meeting at all. I need to talk to you…”
Brian gestures toward the chair. “Please, have a seat and speak to me like a civilized adult.”
The condescension in his tone forces me to square my shoulders. “I won’t be here that long. You should know that when I said I needed a week for a family emergency, I was telling the truth. Yes, I’ve been romantically involved with Frank Wilde, but no, I did not leave because of him. My father had a stroke and…well…you don’t need to know any more than that. You do need to know that whatever Bree Marshall told you about Frank is a lie.”
Brian scowls at me. “I’ll be sure to make a note of that,” he says, without even bothering to pick up a pen or paper. “Is there anything else you’d like to say before I speak? Anything at all?”
I know what he wants to say. He’s going to tell me I’m fired. And if I’m honest, I totally deserve it, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. His smug face, all wobbly and limp is just too much to deal with right now. “Yes,” I reply. “I do have one more thing to say. I quit.”
The man doesn’t even have the decency to look surprised, but I don’t care. I whirl and stomp out of his office. There’s no way Frank will get his job back because of my little display, but at the very least, maybe I’ll save his dignity. People watch as I stride through the rows of desks. Some smile. Some roll their eyes. Some won’t even bother to look at me.
As I pass reception on my way to the elevators, I hear muffled voices coming from further down the hall and find none other than Jason and the infamous Bree Marshall, obviously arguing.
“I didn’t mean to get him fired,” she hisses.
“What did you intend exactly?” Jason asks. “Did you really think he’d want anything to do with you after everything you’ve done?”
“Yes! Okay! Yes! I thought I could get that stupid little receptionist out of the way and Frank would realize that I’m the only one around here good enough to be with him. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
How crazy is this woman? I always assumed she wanted Frank, didn’t get him, and was one of those people who would never forgive him for it. But now? It’s starting to sound like she’s in need of some serious help.
Jason looks disgusted. “Honestly, no. What I want to hear is you, explaining to Brian Kent that you lied about everything and ruined a good man’s reputation.”
“Well, that’ll never happen.” Bree rolls her eyes. “I’m not about to lose my job, too.”
I clear my throat and both Bree and Jason turn my way. She takes one look at me and stomps off, while Jason’s face softens.
“Didn’t think I’d see you around here again,” he says.
“I wasn’t sure I’d bother showing up only to get fired, but figured the least I could do was tell Mr. Kent that Bree was lying about why I left. I don’t expect it’ll get Frank his job back, but, I don’t know. Maybe it’ll save his reputation?” I stare after Bree and cross my arms over my chest. Just seeing her, knowing that she was at Frank’s apartment, makes my stomach twist and jump with uncertainty.
Fine. I slept with her. Is that what you want to hear?
Frank’s words spiral through my head, zing through my veins, wrench through my heart.
“He didn’t sleep with her.”
Jason’s words catch me off guard. I chew on my lip while I stare into his eyes, looking for lies and truths, too confused to understand what I see.
“Frank didn’t sleep with Bree. I know he said he did, and he’s an asshole for doing that to you. He’s caught in some stupid self-destructive pattern and thinks you’d be better off without him. He told you he slept with her so you’d hate him and move on with your life and he could just sink into the bottle and never surface again.”
I don’t know what to say, which is good. If I had a response, it would never get around the lump in my throat. He thinks I’m better without him? In what universe does that make any kind of sense?
“I don’t know if that makes you feel better or worse,” Jason continues. “But that’s the story as I heard it.”
“When did you see him last?” I manage, wondering about all the texts I never sent, all the calls that never came. What does it all mean? What do I do next? Part of me misses the certainty of Old Sarah. The answer would have been simple. What do I do next? Leave. The answer was always leave. Now? It’s so much more complicated. I stay and I fight and maybe I get hurt, but at least I know I tried.
Jason shoves his hands in his pockets, his suitcoat flaring over his wrists. “Saturday afternoon. I couldn’t get him to answer his phone, so I stopped by his apartment. It was a mess. He was a mess.”
Despite the memory of Frank’s messy living room, of his disheveled hair and face, hope rushes through me.
I knew Frank didn’t sleep with Bree.
I knew it.
Him saying he did is the same asshole move I used to make when I wanted to push someone away. Time and time again, I’d combust, say something awful, and then sit in indignant self-righteousness as I got exactly what I wanted—for everyone to leave me alone—all while pretending the world was out to get me.
Jason stares down at the floor before clearing his throat and looking me in the eyes. “Anyway,” he says, “for what it’s worth, he swears he’s done with the drinking. I watched him pour everything down the drain. He promised this wasn’t a relapse, it was just a couple days’ worth of bad decisions.”
I search for words around the buzzing in my brain. “That’s good. I mean, it’s really great.”
Jason puts a hand on my arm. “You haven’t heard from him, have you?”
I shake my head and suck in my lips, desperate not to cry.
He sighs and shakes his head, looking disappointed in his friend. “Frank is head over heels for you.”
“You’ll have to excuse me if I call bullshit on that. It doesn’t feel like I rank very high on his list right now.”
“I wouldn’t give up on him yet. I understand you haven’t known him long enough to know for sure which of the two Franks you’ve met is the real him, but I have. This one? The douchebag who drinks and says shitty things? That’s not him.”
“I know. I don’t know how I know, but I do. It’s just this quiet voice inside me, whispering. Telling me I need to talk to him because this isn’t over. And it’s so rare for that voice to ever say anything nice. I feel like I should listen.”
Jason smiles and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Then listen. Drive right on over to his apartment, make him hear everything you have to say, and then kick him in the balls for being such a dickhead.”
I laugh despite myself. “That sounds like a fabulous idea.”
“Believe me. It is.” Jason hugs me and then pulls away, a wicked smile quirking the corners of his mouth. “Oh, and Sarah?”
“Yeah?”
“While you’re there, kick him once for me. Just for good measure.”