It always seemed funny to me, how certain sights and smells took me back to a time or place, like some kind of cosmic time machine. That’s how I felt stepping back into the old office we shared with Bill. Suddenly, I was back to a time decades earlier. A new grad with hopes and dreams of changing the world. Or at least changing someone’s world, like mine had been changed. Giving the gift of a second chance, no strings attached.

The old guy behind the cluttered desk looked the same, just older. To be fair, he had less hair, and what was left was pure white. More wrinkles and worry lines, but essentially the same.

He looked up at me and did a double take before he smiled. “Get out of town,” he said, still trying to be the cool hipster, almost thirty years later. “Knew you’d come back, begging for a job,” he bellowed, standing up to shake my hand.

“Bill, good to see you. It’s been too long,” I said and felt my throat clench.

“Nice of you to visit,” he teased, throwing my last words to him back in my face.

“Yeah, I guess I didn’t keep up my end of the bargain, did I?”

“Life happens, I get it,” he said and sat back down.

“It does,” I agreed.

“Sit, sit.” He pointed to the worn chair beside me. “So, what brings you here today? I’m sure it’s not a social call.”

“I screwed up again,” I told him, and he frowned, not understanding what I meant.

“You’re in trouble? I find that hard to believe.” He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes.

“Elaine left me.”

He audibly gasped. “What are you even saying? That woman thinks you walk on water, for Christ’s sake. There’s no way she would leave you,” he said, slamming his hands on the desk, causing the mess of papers to fly.

“I screwed up when I left here.” I swung my hand out. “It was a mistake. She never looked at me the same way again. You know that. The money I made…good God, the cash I earned never changed a thing,” I said and gripped the arms of the chair. “Not in her eyes. I thought eventually she would change her mind, understand that we needed the income, but she never did.” Of course, that didn’t mean that I stopped chasing the proverbial American Dream, all the while watching my family slowly self-destruct.

“I’m sorry, man. Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, eyes full of remorse, not for him but for me. Somehow, I held myself together.

“Hire me back.”

He chuckled and pushed his squeaky fake leather chair back from his desk. “Right. You’re going to leave your entire firm to come back here. Makes perfect sense,” he said with a sarcastic tone.

“I left my firm to come back here. If you’ll take me?”

His eyes squinted at me as he tried to figure out if I was being sincere or not. “The kids need stability, John. They’ve got nobody. Some of them have not one person in this world who gives a shit if they live or die. Whoever I have in my office needs to get that.”

“You don’t think I understand that?” I laughed mirthlessly at the irony of his statement. “You were there for me when nobody else gave one shit if I lived or died,” I said and slumped down further in my seat. It squeaked with the effort.

“That’s all in the past,” he said dismissively. “I offered you a hand up, and you took it. You are the one who deserves the credit for that, not me.”

“If you hadn’t been the one to take my case, I don’t even want to think about what would have happened to my pathetic life,” I said and pinched the bridge of my nose. “You made all the difference. I told you I’d pay you back one day. And I did for a while.” I nodded. “But then I left you, too. I never should have gone. It was rewarding as hell, but I traded it in for the almighty dollar. Me, Bill. Fucking me,” I yelled and slapped my chest. “I turned into an ungrateful bastard. My wife left me. My kids won’t speak to me. But I’ve got money. All the goddamn money any man could ever want, but nothing to show for it.”

“You lost your way for a while. You’ll find it again,” Bill said in a calm voice.

“I found it. Thirty years ago, I found it. I want it back.”

He’d think about it. What does that mean? Christ, I wanted a yes or a no, not some vague, pansy-ass answer like, “I’ll think about it, John.” I tugged at my tie and loosened it. Fuck, I still couldn’t breathe, so I ripped that bastard off and threw it on the sidewalk as I stomped off to find my car.

The ringing in my ears got louder the more I admonished myself for freezing up in front of Bill. The slimeball in me wanted to rip the guy a new one for not bowing down to my offer, but the good, decent part of me understood his hesitation.

How did everything get so screwed up? A growl burst out of me from the depths of my soul as I kicked a half-full pop can with enough force to smash it against a building. The crushed can dropped with a hollow clank on the cement, and dark liquid dripped down the brick wall.

A young child screamed in surprise from his stroller while his angry mom threw me a scowl. I rubbed my face and slithered over to the empty park bench.

Well done, shithead. The outburst, while not unusual for me in the past, caught me off guard. Since I’d been seeing my therapist and cut out the booze, I found my anger was more than manageable.

Sadness crept in often, of course. The house wasn’t a home without my wife there with me. What I wouldn’t give to have her back and for the constant silence surrounding me to end. Stillness mocked my every move, my every thought.

I was alone. And it was all my fault.