Three weeks in rehab had felt like an eternity—twenty-one days of life in a bubble where my biggest worry was if I ate enough food or took my medications on time. Now, standing on Veda's doorstep ready to surprise her with roses and chocolates, I felt like a brand new man. I was ready to finish that discussion I brought up with her the night before I went in for detox. It'd been on my mind this entire time and I felt more certain than ever that pursuing a relationship with Veda was what I wanted.
Now that I was thinking clearly, it had become the most obvious thing in the world to me.
"Asher?" Veda said as she opened the door, glancing up and down the hallway as if the reason for me showing up would magically materialize in front of her.
"Hi," I said sheepishly, holding out the flowers toward her. The smile I hoped for never came. Instead it was a tense look of confusion and maybe a bit of overwhelm. She stepped inside, taking the flowers, so without invitation I followed. "I'm sorry if this is a bad time. Maybe I should've called first."
We hadn't spoken in a few days, and I never told her what day I was being released. I didn't even know it would be today until sometime last night when the doctors decided my blood pressure was finally stable enough. I thought it would be a sweet surprise, but now I was thinking better of it. I was rushing things. I knew that. Veda and I connected in a real way, but we barely knew each other.
"No… Yes… I mean… It's a fine time. Come in…" Her words were jumbled and rushed, but she finally smiled at me as she shut the door and I handed her the chocolates. "The flowers are beautiful, Asher, but you didn't have to?—"
"I wanted to," I said, cutting her off. "I just got out about two hours ago and it took me that long to find a florist open this time of night." My jacket hung draped over my arm as I took in the breathtaking sight of her smile.
She wore sweats and a stained T-shirt. Her hair was tied in a messy bun and it looked like she'd had a party or something. Beer bottles sat cluttered on her counter. A pizza box rested on the coffee table half-empty next to a pint of Ben and Jerry's, and one lonely spoon was perched in the melting dessert. This wasn’t a party. It was an emotional binge eating session that I'd interrupted.
"Oh, God," she groaned when she saw my eyes drift toward the counter and the empty beer bottles. "I'm so sorry."
Veda set the chocolates and flowers on her small dinette table and rushed over to the kitchen where she started collecting the bottles and tossing them in the bin. My eyes swept over the rest of the very plain apartment—no art or pictures on the walls, no decorations anywhere. Other than being a little cluttered byboxes and a bit messy, it was bland. Not at all what I expected from a woman with a strong personality like Veda.
"You don’t have to do that…
"You just got sober. I'm so sorry, I?—"
"Veda, it's fine. It's not bothering me." After draping my coat over the chair nestled under the small dinette table, I moved farther into the apartment. She rushed to finish cleaning, though I'd told her not to worry about it, and then joined me as I stood on the divide between living room and dining room. Open concept was all the rage, but this space had been divided by one small metal strip that separated tan tile floors from cream-colored carpet.
"Very plain," I said jokingly, but she winced at it.
"I mean… I moved in here a week before I took the job so…. Six weeks ago?" Veda hugged her arms under her breasts and faced me. I could see up closer that she'd been crying. A stack of used tissues on the floor next to the table was evidence against her. But I didn’t want our reunion after
my rehab to be me prying into her emotional space. I'd come for a reason I hoped would make her happy.
"What's going on, Asher? Why'd you just show up?" She chewed the inside of her cheek like usual when she was feeling nervous, while I turned and touched her elbow softly.
"Have you thought about what I said before I went to rehab…? About us pursuing something real."
Veda shied away but not in an off-putting way. She wasn't rejecting me outright. I could see the apprehension on her face—her furrowed brow, that lip worried between her teeth, the way her eyes avoided meeting mine. She was nervous, not upset.
"Asher," she said, shaking her head. It dropped, and she didn’t look back up at me. "It's just… I heard the way Clayton reamed you out. You're in trouble with the board." I almost interrupted in protest, but her deep sigh had me stopping myself. "I don't want to be another complication for you. You're working so hard to?—"
"You're right," I grunted, unable to stop myself this time. Veda looked up at me and this time she looked hurt. "You're absolutely right." The thoughts were forming as I was speaking but for this to work I couldn’t do it behind the board's back. "Clayton would absolutely think you were a distraction to me and he would be upset. But I'm sober now."
I moved closer, now taking both of her arms and pulling her toward me. "I intend to stay sober, which means I'll be thinking clearly at work and managing things better. And there are policies in place for people like us… I'll go to HR and declare the relationship and that will be that. Veda, we can't just ignore the spark we have."
She waffled, sighing and shaking her head, but she let me pull her against my chest and hold her. Something was upsetting her and I didn't want her to push me away out of some burst of emotion. I would let her open up to me when she was ready but right now I knew if I didn't tell her how I really felt and what I really wanted, I'd lose my nerve."
"But you're almost twice my age," she protested as if that had anything to do with our compatibility. I'd thought of it too, but age was just a number.
"That means nothing." I pulled her chin up so she was forced to look at me. "And it's only twenty-two years’ difference…. Not twice your age."
She smiled in a resigned way as she splayed her hand on my chest. "You're my boss?" she said, lifting her voice as if asking that in protest, but I wasn't buying it.
"What's gotten into you? I know this is super fast but you seem to be pulling back. Where's my feisty girl who bucks the system and stands up to her boss?" Holding her against my body I rocked my hips so she swayed. It was chipping away at her edge, unraveling whatever wall she’d been trying to build to keep me out.
Maybe she was afraid of commitment, that edge she had about her just a defense mechanism due to past hurts. Or maybe her reservations about the age difference or economical disparity were eating at her. Either way I wanted to fix that for her, reassure her that I could be the man who kept my word and took care of her.
"It's just that… I just…" Every protest fell flat. No words formed and she rested her head on my chest.
"I'm clean, baby. I'm staying clean. I am not going to relapse. I told you, you're my magic charm." I kissed the crown of her head and she shivered, so I pulled her closer still and breathed her in. "And I missed you."
