“Damn it, you’re right,” she said. “See? That’s why you can’t go anywhere. We’re useless without you.”
I avoided running into Matt for almost two days and then I had to go to a client intake meeting on his floor, which meant passing right by his cubicle. I considered skipping the meeting (Brooke would be there regardless), but that wouldn’t be good for the rumor mill. I needed people to believe I was up to the task, which I was, for the most part. Sure, my emotional state was a land mine and my personal life a mess, but my coworkers didn’t need to know that.
Jameson Porter knew about Matt and me. Dating a coworker wasn’t against company policy, but you were required to disclose a personal relationship with another employee to human resources—which we had apparently done, according to Matt. So everyone at work knew Matt was my boyfriend, which was a strange thing because I still didn’t remember our relationship, aside from the memory of the rose petal bath from our first date. However, I doubted Matt had said anything about our current status, which could be best described as “it’s complicated.” We weren’t exactly broken up, more on a pause, but all of this meant I was dreading seeing him at work. It would be hard to pretend things were fine between us, and I was paranoid people would see right through the act.
But it was a Wednesday and so there was a decent chance Matt would be at the client’s today rather than in the office. He had stopped traveling after my accident and was assigned to a project with one of the downtown Toronto banks. I’d felt bad about this, knowing how hard it would be for him to pass the client he’d been working with for close to a year to another consultant, but he acted like it was no big deal. Said he had almost wrapped up the project, anyway, and was looking forward to sleeping in his own bed rather than hotels.
Having convinced myself Matt would surely be at the bank today, I walked by his cubicle with barely a glance as Brooke and I chatted about the client...and then ran directly into him as we rounded the corner near the meeting room. He had a full coffee in hand and it splashed onto the floor between us.
“Oh!” I said, taking a step back to try to right myself. Brooke, beside me, somehow managed to escape the coffee splash.
We all stood there for a moment, everyone a little stunned, and finally Brooke broke the spell. “I’ll grab some napkins,” she said, ducking into the nearby meeting room.
“Did any get on you?” Matt asked. Aside from a small splash on my shoes, most of the spilled coffee had ended up on the ground and already disappeared into the dark gray patterned carpet.
“I don’t think so.” I shifted my folder to the other arm, wiped a few drops of the coffee from my shoes thanks to the napkin Brooke handed me when she returned.
“Do you need one?” Brooke asked Matt, extending a couple of napkins his way.
“Thanks,” he said, taking them and first wiping his hands, then a splotch of coffee from his tie. It was then I realized it was the anniversary tie, the one I’d given him before everything went off the rails between us. My chest hurt to look at it, and the moment of uncomfortable silence stretched before Matt dropped his gaze. I also noticed he looked thinner—too thin—and thought back to my conversation with Alex, about what a “mess” Matt was thanks to my accident, my memory.
Brooke looked between us, then said to me, “Okay, well, I’ll see you in there?” I nodded and she walked into the meeting room, leaving Matt and me alone.
“Why aren’t you at the bank?” It came out somewhat accusatory, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Oh, I was. But I have a meeting with Peter. I’m going back after.” Matt scowled briefly, though he quickly corrected his expression into one more neutral, and I wondered what was going on. Peter Cerelli, one of the senior partners, was well-known for working his associates harder than any other partner. Again, I thought back to what Alex had said, about Matt being pushed off the accelerated partner track because of me. For a moment I felt defensive—I never asked him to hand off his latest (and most challenging, he’d mentioned) oil and gas client—but then just as quickly I went from defensive to contrite. Consultants with oil and gas clients traveled nonstop—and like everyone had been reminding me, Matt was one of the “good” ones. He would never have spent so much time away while I was in such a fragile state and recuperating.
I wanted to thank him for giving this up for me, articulate how sorry I was to have screwed up his career (his life), too, but all I said was “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” But he seemed distracted, and I knew there was plenty he wasn’t saying. “How are you? I mean, how are things being back at work?”
“Things are good,” I said, shifting the folder again more for something to do with my restless hands. I smiled. “Like riding a bike, right?”
Matt nodded, but he didn’t smile. “How about with your...you know, with everything?”
“With my memory?” I asked. “Quite nearly perfect. I haven’t forgotten a name or face or password yet.” I smiled again. And again, he didn’t return it. How cruel it was I remembered the less important things like my log-in password and that Mary was a gossip who drank peppermint tea with milk, but didn’t remember I had loved Matt. My smile dropped.
“I’m glad to hear it. I’ve been worried.” He cleared his throat, looked down at his mug, which was now wrapped in coffee-stained napkins. “I wasn’t sure if being back would make things worse.” I knew he wasn’t only referencing the work. He also meant the stress of what was going on between us. Shame coursed through me as I thought about that night, about kissing Daniel.
“So far, so good,” I said, looking for an exit because the guilt was making it hard for me to concentrate on anything else. “I guess I should probably get in there.” I gestured to the meeting room, and Matt nodded.
“Sure thing. Okay, well, talk to you later.” I said goodbye, and then he stepped around me right as I tried to step around him, and with both of us moving in the same direction we bumped into one another again.
“Sorry. Again,” he said. “At least no coffee spill this time.” He smiled, but I could tell how hard it was for him to do it.Fix this, I thought.Fix it, Lucy.
“Listen, Matt,” I began, not entirely sure what I was about to say was a great idea. “Do you want to get a drink later? Like, after work?”
He stared at me, hope brightening his face temporarily. But then it was gone as quickly as it came. “Lucy, I would love to. But I can’t.”
“Oh. Okay.” I blushed, feeling foolish for even suggesting it. “I shouldn’t even have... No problem. Maybe another time.” I waved my hand in between us as if to erase the suggestion. What right did I have to ask so much of him? I would have turned me down, too, after everything.
He reached out to touch my arm. “No, Iwantto,” he said. “But I have to put in a long night at the bank. Rain check?”
“Of course,” I said. “Rain check.”
“Hope you have a good day,” he said, watching me as I walked backward a few steps, avoiding bumping into him for a third time.
“You, too.” I waved and ducked into the meeting room, just as Brooke finished setting up the room.
