Break Even

by Lisa De Jong

  And I haven’t missed a single Tuesday night with the girls. It’s the one night I get out and escape my never-ending stack of files. Our lives run parallel to each other, but I’ve decided that’s what makes it so entertaining. If we were all alike, we’d have nothing to gain from each other.

  Now, as I walk into my new office building, I do it with a huge smile on my face. In the hallway, we have a wall of letters from the women we have helped. It’s why we come to work every single day, even though the pay isn’t the best in the field and the work is often depressing.

  “Good morning, Marley,” Beatrice says when I stop at her desk to thumb through this mornings mail.

  “Good morning. Did you have a nice weekend?”

  “I can’t complain. You?”

  “I can’t complain either. I got a run in between files.”

  She smiles. “Did you get your coffee this morning, or would you like me to make you some?”

  “Make a whole pot, please. I had a few errands to run this morning so I didn’t get to stop.”

  “You got it.”

  There’s an extra bounce in my step as I make my way to my office. It’s dark and outdated with a view of the alleyway, but I’m happier here than I ever was at Mason. I don’t need an ocean to stare at in order to sort my thoughts or feelings; life is simpler now.

  After starting up my computer, I organize my files for the week and read through a few new emails. I smell the coffee for a few minutes before she walks in with a piping hot cup.

  “Did you meet someone or something? You look … different today,” she says, setting it on the corner of my desk.

  By the time my divorce was settled, I had over a million dollars put away between the proceeds from the sale of our home and what Cole gave me for the firm.

  Some people would think I’m crazy, but I don’t even care about the money. I embrace the idea of starting fresh, of creating a life of my own. This morning, I took a cab to our local CASA office and wrote them a check for the entire amount, but what I had left in my savings account. I wrote Abbi’s name in the memo; it was hers. Everything Cole gained after what he did to her should belong to her.

  The lady I handed it to was speechless. I simply smiled and walked away. Nothing has ever given me that sort of feeling. Our lives have come full circle. A lot of bad has been done over the years, but if I can take that and turn it into a positive for so many kids, something good will have come from it.

  “Earth to Marley.”

  Shaking my head, I look back up at the woman who stands in front of my desk. “No, Beatrice, we’ve talked about this. I’m allergic to men.” I stop to take a careful sip of my happy juice. “I actually did something that made me feel really good this morning.”

  “Well, whatever it was, I’m proud of you.”

  “I’m also glad you’re here,” I admit after another drink from my cup. “You make one hell of a cup of coffee.”

  She laughs. “I’m happy to make it for you.” She tidies a few files on my desk then looks back up. “I hate to bring up Cole, but is it tonight you have to meet him to get your things from the storage unit?”

  I blow a piece of hair from my face. “Unfortunately, yes. I’m hoping everything goes smoothly, though. He was pretty quiet when we met last week to sign the papers for the house.”

  “Well, this is the last step, right?”

  I nod. The idea of divorce used to scare me, but this has brought me nothing but relief.

  “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be back in with another cup of coffee in ten.” She winks as she exits, quietly closing the door behind her.

  When I started here a few weeks ago, they had just lost the secretary along with the person who previously held my position. I called Beatrice, and it didn’t take much convincing, even though the pay was less.

  Cole didn’t call me so I figured he didn’t care. Come to find out, he had already replaced her with a skinny blonde who just graduated college.

  A couple hours pass and Beatrice brings the morning paper in with my fourth cup of coffee. Without asking, she takes my cup for another coffee refill as I thumb through to get to the business section. I don’t quite get there as an article on the front of the Living Section catches my eye: A new nightclub named Marley’s. And right in the center is a picture of River. My heart beats faster.

  I read every word two times over. Every description. Every quote, coming back to the one that gets me hung up each time:

  I asked Mr. Holtz what inspired the unique look of the club, and this is what he had to say, “Besides my mother, only one other woman has worked her way into my heart. She gave me the idea for this place. I owe it to her.”

  ‘Is her name Marley, by chance,’ I asked. He smiled, shaking his head. “Only she knows.”

  I can’t free him from my mind. This simply strengthens the lock on the cage I’ve put him in. I go over all the reasons he shouldn’t be running through my mind right now, but they’re negated by the reasons he should.

  “Are you okay, Marley?” I jump. I didn’t hear Beatrice come back in.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  I glance between Beatrice and the section of newspaper I grasp tightly in my hand. “Answers. All the right ones.”

  She smiles at me the way my mother would. “You already have all of the answers, Marley. Just follow your heart.”

  “It’s let me down before.”

  “That doesn’t mean you should give up.” She sets down my cup and walks away to leave me with my thoughts.

  After reading the article once more, I put it aside in an attempt to get some work done. It’s not easy when thoughts of him keep running through my mind between every sentence I read, every note I write.

  Sometimes, I wonder if I’m just too stubborn. If my ideals of right and wrong are holding me back from a second chance. I was wrong to cheat on Cole. Even though he did it too, it was wrong. It’s a mistake I never want to make again, but I wonder if my fear of failing again is holding me back from where I should be … who I should be with.

  I’m about to close my computer and head out for a sandwich when Beatrice walks back in with a bouquet of white roses. My heart doesn’t even beat; I’m pretty sure it stops. “These just came for you,” she says, smiling knowingly. She walks back out before I gain enough composure to say anything.

  I pull the card from the center, recognizing the handwriting. As I read it, my vision blurs.

  Cole and I met briefly after our house sold to go through the things we had accumulated over the years, but we barely spoke a word to each other. After eleven years, there will always be feelings there, but I don’t like him; I’m pretty sure that feeling is mutual.

  The storage unit is the last thing we have together, and now that he’s settled into his new apartment, we can tie the bow around our divorce and move on.

  I beat him to the storage facility and park my car near our unit, taking a few minutes to check my email before climbing out of my car. The warm sun beats down on me as I slip my blazer off and throw it over my seat.

  As I lift the door to the unit, I’m reminded just how much stuff we had in there. Boxes and boxes worth of stuff we collected during college, and while we rented a small apartment when we were first starting our law careers. Not wanting to waste any time, I start opening them and marking them as keep or throw.

  The quiet only lends itself to random thoughts. River has been on my mind since I read the article earlier, and the card that arrived with the flowers just made the thoughts even louder. They conflict. They go in one direction, then quickly switch to another.

  “I was hoping you’d be done by the time I got here.” I startle, dropping the marker from between my fingers.

  I spin around, getting a glimpse of a casually dressed Cole. It’s not just the clothes that make him look different; there’s a shyness about him I’m not used to—his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.


  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he adds.

  “I was in my own world, I guess.”

  “Where do you want me to start?” he asks, eyes scanning the piles of boxes.

  I pull another marker from my pocket and toss it to him. “The boxes on the left have been marked. All the ones on the right need to be gone through yet.”

  He nods, going straight to them. For at least ten minutes, no words pass between us. It’s weird going from what we used to have to this—from intimate partners to almost strangers.

  “Do you want to keep these?” he asks, pulling my attention away from a box of old college textbooks.

  I walk over, recognizing a shoebox full of old photos. Most of them are from our college days—when we first started dating—and they’re all of us. “I don’t have any use for them.”

  He throws a few he had in his hand back in the box and fits the lid back on. I go back to my box, marking it as a throw.

  “I’m sorry, Marley,” he says out of the blue.

  Stunned. That’s the only word I can use to describe how I feel. “Why are you saying that now?” I ask without turning around.

  “Because I’m ready to say it and mean it. Somewhere along the way, I convinced myself that what I was doing was okay, but I don’t want you to think it was always like that. For years, I loved you. A part of me will always feel something for you.” There’s sincerity in his voice that I haven’t heard in a long time. It doesn’t make everything all better, but it gives me some closure. “I’ve done some things in my life that I’m not proud of. Those texts you sent me the night before mediation … I know you know. He told you, didn’t he?”

  I nod slowly. I’ve never brought up what happened with Abbi, but he’d be a fool to think I hadn’t heard everything.

  “It was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made in my life.” He pauses. I hear him breathing heavily but can’t find the strength to look back. “The line between right and wrong blurred until I couldn’t see it. Nothing else I did after—to you—seemed bad in comparison. Now, I wish I could go back to that night. I’d had too much to drink, but it’s not an excuse. And what I did to you … there’s not an excuse for that either. I really am sorry.”

  I turn around, looking him straight in the eye. “I never wanted it to end the way it did. So I’m sorry, too.”

  He smiles sadly, running his thumb over his lower lip. “I didn’t realize how much I was going to miss you until you were already gone, you know?”

  It’s hard for me to sympathize with him because I can’t say I feel the same way. The last couple months have been freeing. “I hope you find someone who’ll make you happy.”

  “Bridget is pregnant,” he blurts. “She’s moving down here, and we’re going to give it a go.”

  I nod, forcing a smile to hold back the tears. For years, I wanted a baby, and by the time he finally agreed, he was never home. He was with her, and now, she’s got the one thing I wanted from him but never had. The one thing I wonder if I’ll ever get now that I’m alone.

  “Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said that,” he admits, looking away.

  Silence falls between us again as we finish going through the rest of the boxes. When we’re done, he helps me carry a couple I want to my trunk, and puts a few in his.

  “So, I guess this is goodbye,” I say, shielding my eyes from the sun.

  “I guess it is.”

  “Behave, Cole, and whatever you do, be good to that baby of yours.” It hurts to say it, but he’s getting an opportunity I’ve only dreamed of.

  “You’ll get there someday. Back in college, we fought over girls all the time … especially you. I can’t imagine it’s any different now.”

  I laugh. “You did not.”

  He smiles. “We did. I guess the wrong guy won.”

  That dampens everything. “Bye, Cole.”

  As I walk away for what will probably be the last time, he waves. We could spend the rest of our lives being bitter, but forgiveness feels a whole lot better.

  EITHER I’VE LOST MY MIND or found it. If Beatrice is right, then it doesn’t matter because my heart led me here. I’ve thought about this the last four nights while I laid in my bed, alone, and every single night, I’ve fallen asleep with the same answer.

  The valet takes my keys as I step outside in my new emerald green dress—a super short, long-sleeved number with an open back. A fresh start begins with a new dress, that’s what my mom always said. I tuck my clutch under my arm as I pass my invitation to the bouncer. That little card came with my flower bouquet earlier this week.

  “Have a nice night, Ms. Lanford.” Being called by my maiden name again is going to take some time to adjust to.

  I’m in awe as I step inside. I purposefully arrived just as the dinner hour was ending … when the whole place transitions into a club. It’s dark, with candlelit tables and large chandeliers, which hang from the ceiling and highlight the gold fabric that covers the walls. It’s beautiful … absolutely stunning.

  After four days to think about tonight, you’d think I’d come in with a plan, but I didn’t. Whatever will be will be. Besides, fate brought him to me once; if it’s meant to be, he’ll find me here tonight.

  “Welcome to Marley’s,” the bartender says, as I take a seat at one end of the U-shaped bar.

  I grin at the sound of my name coming off his lips.

  He smiles back. He’s at least ten years younger than me, but I can’t ignore those dimples. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “A glass of the house red, please.”

  “You got it.”

  Techno music echoes throughout the expansive space as a couple hundred well-dressed people mill about. Everything is exactly how I envisioned it the first time River brought me here. He nailed it.

  “I was told this one is on the house,” the handsome bartender says, bringing my eyes forward.

  “By who?”

  He nods to the end of the bar where two women sit chatting. When he sees the clueless look on my face, he looks to the side and narrows his eyes.

  “Who?” I ask again.

  “The owner,” he answers, eyes coming back to me. “River Holtz.”

  My heart pitter-patters then races until I can barely breathe. This is probably too soon … at least that’s what my heart is telling me. Opening my clutch, I leave a few dollars on the bar and catch the eye of the bartender once more. “If you see him, tell him thank you.”

  “Why don’t you stay and tell him yourself?” Warm breath hits my cheek as a familiar scent surrounds me. I close my eyes tightly, trying to lessen the panic.

  His hand splays against my exposed shoulder as he leans in even closer. “My name is River Holtz, and I was wondering if you’d like to have a drink with me?”

  I don’t know if I can do this. If I’m even strong enough to take the risk. He thinks he sort of loves me, but I’m not convinced he really knows. But there’s a reason I came here tonight, and it wasn’t for the wine. “I guess I can have one.”

  He slides onto the stool to my right. It’s then that I get my first look at him in a black tux minus the tie. He wears it well … too well. He grins when he notices me staring. “Are you going to introduce yourself?”

  This little game he’s playing … I like it. New dress. Fresh start. “My name is Marley Lanford. It’s nice to meet you,” I say, holding my hand out to him. He accepts with a huge smile on his face, and I realize this is the first time he’s ever met Miss Lanford.

  “What brings you to my bar, Miss Lanford?”

  I bring my glass to my lips, staring at him as I enjoy my first sip. Setting the glass down, I say, “I read about this place in the newspaper, and it intrigued me so I thought I’d check it out.”

  “Would you like a tour?”

  “I’d love one,” I answer before I have time to second-guess my decision.

  He holds my glass for me as I slide off my chair. As I take it from him, his hand presses to my lower
back, slowly moving us forward through the growing crowd. A group of employees is sliding tables to one side to widen the path to the dance floor. “The guest DJ starts in a few minutes,” he whispers against my ear. “I have to make a quick toast from VIP before he begins. Would you like to join me?”

  I nod as I study the dance floor in complete amazement. The ceiling has to be at least three stories high with a lit DJ booth high above.

  “Do you like what you’ve seen so far?”

  “Everything about it is stunning.”

  “You should meet the woman who inspired it,” he says as we start up a wide staircase. It’s hard to ignore what his words do to me; it’s why I’m here. A simple life can make you happy, but taking a few risks along the way can also make it fun. This could all end badly, but for now, I’m going to enjoy it for what it is.

  The VIP setup here is more sophisticated, Miami-chic. Velvet covered couches and chairs with high backs create mini conversation areas throughout. Round side tables and oversized ottomans finish off each separate space.

  River leads us to the one in the center—the only one not occupied. I feel the stares of the crowd, but I keep my eyes on the glass balcony that overlooks the dance floor. It looks even better from up here.

  As he grabs the microphone, I slip back until his hand no longer touches me, and ease into one of the chairs. The only place I’m really good at being the center of attention is the courtroom. He looks back at me once before he starts. I smile as he turns away, proud to be witnessing this moment.

  From the side, I notice his lips turn up right before he starts. “First of all, I want to thank everyone who came out to celebrate the opening of Marley’s. Over the years, I’ve been involved in many club developments, but this one holds a special place in my heart because the woman who inspired it is special to me. She’s taught me a great deal, but above everything else, she’s shown me how great it feels to open my eyes … to see what’s really around me. I won’t lie to you and say things are always pretty, but even on the worst of days, it’s better than to have never seen at all.” He pauses long enough to glance back at me. “Anyway, I want you to open your eyes to Miami’s newest hot spot. I promise you’ll never find anything else like it.” He holds a glass of amber-colored liquid in the air. I do the same with my wine glass. “It’s my pleasure to welcome each and every one of you. Now, let’s break this place in!” He throws the drink back and right on queue, the DJ starts to play his first song.