The real sorrow didn’t set in until that moment. And what a fucking gut punch it was. I had never been in love with anyone before, which meant I’d never experienced heartbreak. Didn’t much care for it.
I came home ready and willing to give it a real shot with him. I’d never wanted to give anything a real shot with anyone before. Every relationship before him had been fleeting, much like my life. At two years, FinCrest was my longest employment stint.
Realizing that I’d never see him again felt like falling. Whenever I thought of it, my stomach sank like the highest drop on a roller coaster. He had said he felt listless and unmoored, but I didn’t understand him until then. With time, the falling was replaced with ice. A frozen grip in my guts when someone spoke his name, or my brain would conjure an image of us on the couch or dinner table. Or the office. Or his hairy, sweaty, heaving chest after he filled me.
Somewhere between the ice and fall, the devastation and heartbreak, I realized my career was the only way out. Having options had become toxic, and not just because of my actions. I wanted to feel stable when nothing else was. When a well-defined future is ripped away, finding something to hold on to is more than a life vest. It’s a life purpose.
That was work. Day in and day out. Call after call. Pitch after pitch. I honed my skills better than when I was with Alec. It took time. There were a few months where I was shit and didn’t close a damn thing, but it got better. I’d already started improving when the VP of Sales sat me down to discuss my performance. She and the rest of the team gave me ample slack. Alec’s sudden departure was a blow to the company’s bottom line, but they understood I took the hit personally. My mentor abandoned me without warning, and the company gave me time to recover.
I used to wonder if they’d have been as understanding if they knew the nature of our relationship. Probably less if they knew we were romantically involved. And I would’ve been fired if they found out why he fled.
I told no one. It wasn’t my place or my right to expose Alec. There was something about penance, too. I needed to suffer that loss in silence, and could not, would not, seek comfort from anyone else.
It was a long process, and I was just starting to feel like myself again. Deven helped. He was so eager, and I enjoyed watching him learn and grow. When he’d used a trick I taught him, or redid something without me asking, I felt pride. In him and myself. It made me wonder if that’s how Alec felt about me, and if his romantic feelings changed or complicated things. Notif, but by how much.
Alec had once told me to know before I go. I didn’t understand that until he was gone. The first step was easy, making appointments with as many doctors as I could—I’m healthy as a horse and fertile as a stallion. But the other stuff? That took more time.
I looked at the deep-down shit I never had before. Not much had changed since I returned from that resort. What did was my understanding of myself. I wanted something serious and life-lasting, but could be happy alone. Also, Alec was right in his letter. We were destined to fail.
The people we were never could’ve made it through the upheaval ahead of us. I also understood, furthering my sorrow, that Alec might be the only one for me. Maybe things would change, maybe they wouldn’t. I was starting to be okay with either.
“Fuck yeah, is right. But we’ve gotta be more on our game than we’ve ever been.” I said to Deven as I packed my bag. “No stupid mistakes. No little errors. Just unmitigated knowledge and charm. Rebekah ate me and my former Sr. Rep. alive the last time we spoke. Devastated us in two sentences. So perfection is the minimum requirement. One hundred percent effort. Got it?”
“Yes, sir!” Deven said, forcing more ice into my belly, and a cringe I fought to conceal.
“Don’t call me that, man,” I said with a chuckle.
I understood so much after Alec left. How much of an immature asshole I was for instigating our extra-professional relationship. The stress he must’ve felt, and guilt at giving in to his desires. Also, how weird it is to have your Jr. Rep. call you,sir. I had less than zero interest in Deven that way, who was planning on proposing to his girlfriend. It was weird, and a total fluke, that it worked so well between Alec and me sexually.
“I’ll stop when you stop freaking out about it,” he said, taking the cue to stand up and get out of my cubicle.
“Cheeky little shit.” I laughed. “Are you ready for tomorrow? It’s your first industry event, right?”
“Yup, but I’m so fucking ready, bro. Gonna rock that shit so hard.”
I laughed. “It’s a two-day conference. We’re not there to sell. Just keep tabs on the competition.”
“I know. I’ve got all the tabs. So many tabs they call me Tabby Cat.”
I laughed hard and shook my head. “Why are you so weird?” I laughed again, and so did he. “It’s an early flight. Are you packed?”
“Yes… no, but I will when I get home.”
“Good. I’ll be at your place at four-thirty. You better be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, because I’m not stopping the car. You gotta throw your shit in the trunk and hop in while I’m rolling away, or I’m leaving your ass behind.”
Deven laughed, then stood up straight and gave me a formal military salute. “Sir, yes, sir!”
Cheeky little shit.
???
The first time I shared a room with Deven was fucking brutal. I’d been alone since Alec left, and the only pitches I went on were clients I’d already met with him. The VP decided I could handle trying to upsell alone once I got my groove back. But that first one with Deven? Fucking shit show.
I was mean to him. Cranky and rude. He kept asking me what was up, and I kept biting his head off. On the flight home, like a sad, hurt puppy, he asked me what he did wrong so he could do better. It was a similar gut punch to reading Alec’s letter. I apologized, told him I had some life shit going on, and that he did really well. Our next trip was better. I learned how to put it away and keep it moving. It still sucked, it always would, but I never took it out on him again.
So, when we got to the room the following morning, I felt that wave of unrelenting sorrow and loss. I leaned into work, and working out, to mitigate it.
“I’m gonna hit the gym. Then, we have to meet everyone for a regroup breakfast. You can come with me if you want,” I said, already changing into my workout gear.
