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Undersold(46)

By:B. B. Hamel


I couldn’t stay. It felt wrong to break in and speak during what was clearly a private moment, so I turned and left. I walked fast, my mind racing. I didn’t exactly know what my plan was, but I knew I needed to keep moving. Was that rumor Linda told me true? Why would he keep an ex-girlfriend around as his assistant? Back at my desk, I could feel myself close to hyperventilating. I felt dizzy and out of control. What were they doing now? How long had this been going on?

I pushed back from my computer and gathered my things. I walked out toward the elevators, got on, and left the office. I couldn’t think straight, and didn’t want to. Let Shane and Janice have their moment. I was sick and tired of him lying to me, or at least of him not telling me the whole truth. Hadn’t I more than earned his trust by now? I’d done nothing but follow his rules and try to live up to his standards of privacy. I thought I was doing a good job, but what if he needed something more?

Janice and Shane, Shane and Janice. Janice’s hand on his shoulder, Shane’s hand on top of that. The way her legs were crossed toward him, the easy-going comfortable way they sat so close and spoke, their laughter. How could I have been so stupid not to notice this earlier?

I made it out of the building and onto the street. I walked fast toward the subway, not thinking about anything but their comfortable closeness. I was lucky and didn’t get stopped by any paparazzi, probably because they didn’t recognize me without Shane by my side. I was just another anonymous brunette girl, a little on the short side, plain and simple. Not like tall, leggy Janice. I made it to the subway, dropped in a token, and rode it up to my neighborhood. I had never walked out of work in the middle of the day like this before, and the consequences of my actions weren’t registering at all. I only knew that I had to get out of there, away from Shane, and clear my head for a while before we talked. Normally, I would have biked home, but because I was getting rides with Shane, my bike was stored in my apartment, unused for a few weeks.

When I emerged from the subway, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Shane. Where are you? Are you skipping out on our meeting? I ignored it, and went up into my apartment. I undressed, wrapped myself in a blanket, and laid down in bed.

My room was much neater and barer than I remembered. It had been a few weeks since I slept in my own bed, and it felt good, though cold and empty. I missed Shane, his large warmth beside me, his comforting breath on my neck, his strong arms wrapped around my body. I felt like I was losing him and losing myself all at once. I missed him, but I was angry.

A few minutes later, my phone started buzzing again. I ignored it, assumed it was Shane, and tried to sleep. I needed rest and time alone to fully process what I saw before I could confront him about it. I knew I was overreacting, or maybe being dramatic, and it would have been simpler just to walk into the room and demand an explanation, but I didn’t have that power with him. Shane had become the beacon in my life, the lighthouse by which I navigated, and suddenly that lighthouse was snuffed out, the crystal beacon smashed to bits, and I was in danger of running aground.

My phone buzzed again a minute later, and this time I reached over to silence it. As I went to hit the button, I noticed the caller ID said my brother John. It was really unusual for him to call during the day, so I swiped right to answer and held it up to my ear.

“Hello, John? What’s up?”

“Hey Amy,” he said, and his voice sounded husky.

“What’s going on, are you upset?”

“It’s Dad, Amy.”

I felt my whole world come to a screaming halt. I forgot about Shane. I forgot about leaving work. I forgot about everything except for my brother’s voice.





23.


I got the first train home. I didn’t bother telling Shane, and I couldn’t think about anything other than my Dad. Grief washed over me in waves as I traveled back to Levittown, toward my childhood home.

We all knew my Dad was really sick. The doctors said he didn’t have a lot of time left, but he had always been such a vital force that it was hard for me to imagine him ever dying. Still, with late stage lung cancer, it was going to happen eventually. That wasn’t something I could ever have prepared for though, and when it happened, I knew my life was changed forever. Now, both of my parents were gone. I couldn’t envision a world where I had no living parents, but it was suddenly my reality. I kept thinking back to the last time I saw my father, and wished I had a chance to say goodbye. I desperately wanted to be able to tell him I loved him. I knew he was looking thin, but I didn’t think much of it. We talked about his day, about sports, and about Jasmine. I told him about my days, and mentioned I was seeing someone, but never told him exactly who Shane was. I’m glad I at least got to mention how well I was doing, and how happy I was.