I Love You Though We’ve Never Met
I didn’t quite know how I got through the following work week. Every day felt like a blur, a haze of exhaustion and unresolved emotions that I could barely keep from spilling into the rest of my life. But just because my personal life was in turmoil didn’t mean that my career could afford to be at a standstill. I had to keep pushing forward, even if every step felt like it was on autopilot. Then Amanda made her return to the office.
Her presence seemed to shift the air, a ripple that made everyone tense up and try just a little bit harder to appear perfect. The usual chatter grew quieter, the casual conversations more guarded. We all knew the unspoken truth: Amanda was back, and that meant we were all suddenly under a microscope, scrutinizing each other’s every move, making sure nothing went wrong. Everyone was on edge, myself included, trying to put on a facade of confidence and competence, when inside, I felt like I was crumbling apart.
Amanda made quite the resurgence. Wearing a sleek black Prada suit, she looked nothing short of majestic. The fabric hugged her frame with effortless elegance, and her presence commanded attention in every direction. She looked like a femme fatale who could belong on a runway—immaculate, poised, and untouchable. It was as if she’d stepped out of another world, one where everything was perfectly in place, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of insecurity at the sight of her, standing there like she had never left. I scurried after her like a mouse trailing behind a puma. Recognizing that making money with a business was harder than it seemed, I feared falling short of my goal.
Amanda asked me to close the door of her office, how I knew this conversation was about to get personal. As the door clicked shut behind me, her Bengali cat, Harper, padded over to me, weaving between my legs with a soft purr. I bent down to scratch behind Harper’s ears, grounding myself for a moment before I raised my head at Amanda, straightening my shoulders.
Subsequently, she positioned herself behind her desk. Then gazed at me with an intensity that almost scared me.”I am content with what you and Kali did with the app,” she opened our conversation.
“Thanks Amanda, Kali has been of great help with not just that,” I needed to give her some praise, for all the loyalty she’d showed me.
“Dear, Lucie, that’s why I’ve hired her. I knew you needed the help.”
I swallowed. Another thank you would probably sound dumb so I stayed silent.
“How’s the MBA program?” She asked, her eyes drifting over my wardrobe—a grey patterned dress with decorative buttons. I smiled inwardly at the irony of it—choosing to wear grey, the very color I had associated with feeling like a mouse earlier. It really wasn’t the best to get so down on myself, but anyone knowing Amanda would understand why she sometimes made everyone feel small. People like her didn’t have problems, they crushed problems.
“It’s manageable. I am enjoying the content, and I think I’ll finish the program early, even.” I assured her. The overachiever in me wanted to show how dedicated I was to self-improvement.
Her gaze was sharp, taking in every detail, and I couldn’t help but feel the weight of her scrutiny. “What are you not enjoying about it?” An amused smile tugged at her thick lips.
“It feels like it’s taking my attention from work at Hart it was a rare first printing, the kind of book that would be cherished by collectors and lovers of literature alike. In awe, I opened its first page.
Dear Lucie, je ne suis pas une sainte, mais je vous ai aimé de tout mon c?ur . He’d handwritten in French despite not speaking the language. This was a quote from the actual story, and it translated into “I am not a saint, but I have loved you with all my heart.” What made it even more touching was that the original French was written from a woman’s perspective. It was a detail that Julian couldn’t have known as he didn’t speak French, but it made the gesture even more endearing that he’d tried to do this all by himself. Thank you for standing by me at a moment when I disappointed you. Julian. The dedication continued.
This was such a thoughtful gift, him remembering my favorite love story in French literature and then going all the way to find this rare copy. My eyes prickled with tears at the realization that he was trying this hard to mend us.
I could no longer keep the truth away from him, no matter how far along he was in his recovery. I was too far along myself not to make this my priority. Our baby was too important to keep it away from him.
Tomorrow morning, I’d call my fiancée, I promised myself. The rehab would find a way to connect us, and we’d have a heart-to-heart conversation I’d been avoiding —about possibly becoming parents. He’d most likely cry to find out that he could be a dad. I’d tell Julian about James, and how I’d tried to shut down any rumors, but hadn’t succeeded. I knew he’d shrug it off as if to say that relationship was long gone, buried in my past.