Risk and Reward

by Rachael Duncan

  I look down at my vacant hand, the white line around my ring finger the only indication of the promise that once sat there. “I’m going through a divorce, but can’t file for another nine and a half months.” Imagine my surprise when I contacted an attorney and found out that in the state of North Carolina we had to be separated for a year before we could file.

  “He’s a fool for letting you go. If you were mine, I wouldn’t make the mistake of losing you. I wouldn’t care what it took.”

  I study his face, taking in the sincerity of his words. “You don’t even know me.”

  “I don’t have to; I recognize a good thing when I see it.” His green eyes penetrate mine, making me squirm in my seat.

  I clear my throat and look away, not able to handle the intensity a moment longer. “Well, I’d better get back to work.” I stand up and grab my trash.

  “See you later, Charlotte.”

  “Bye, Ethan.” I walk out of the break room without looking back.

  After I walk through my front door, I slip off the new heels I haven’t broken in yet and let out a sigh of relief. Today was a long day, but not because the work was tedious or drawn out, but because a certain pair of green eyes kept presenting themselves in my mind. It didn’t help I had to watch him walk by every so often, or that he’d throw me his charming smile as he did.

  The reason for occupying my constant train of thought is somewhat confusing. I’m nowhere near ready to start dating. I just left my husband two and a half months ago and we’re not even officially divorced yet. Despite the hurt and anger I feel toward Nate, he’s all I’ve known since I was twenty-one years old. That’s not something you get over in a short amount of time.

  But if that’s true, then why do I get butterflies whenever Ethan looks at me? Why did my heart rate accelerate when he said he would’ve never let me go?

  I flop down on the couch and lean my head back as I look up at the ceiling. I need advice, an outside opinion to help me make sense of what I’m feeling. Pulling my phone out of my purse, I scroll through my contacts. Lydia’s super pregnant, so I don’t want to add to her plate. I stop at Paige’s name and tap the screen. She’ll shoot it to me straight.

  “Hey, girl. I was just thinking about you,” she greets when she answers.

  “Hey! What are you doing?”

  She lets out an exhausted breath. “Just leaving work. I need to start looking for another job.”

  “You say that every week,” I reply with a small laugh.

  “Yeah, well maybe someday I’ll follow through.”

  “So, I need to talk,” I say, cutting to the chase.

  “Okay, what’s up?”

  “There’s this guy at work,” I start.

  “Wow, that was fast.” I won’t lie and say it doesn’t sting to hear the slight judgment in her voice, even if she has the wrong idea.

  “No, it’s not like that. It’s just . . . I don’t know.”

  “Well, what happened?”

  “I was on my lunch break when this guy I work with sat with me. He said some things that have sort of stuck with me and I can’t shake it.”

  “What did he say? Oh, shit. I have the right of way, asshole!” I pause, confused by her outburst. “Sorry, I’m driving and some jackass cut me off. Please, continue.”

  With a huff of laughter, I shake my head. “He asked to take me out, but I told him I couldn’t and explained what was going on with me and Nate. He told me Nate was a fool for letting me go and he wouldn’t make that mistake.”

  I’m met with a few seconds of silence and I wonder if the call was dropped. “Well, that’s a hell of a statement to make. Do you like this guy?”

  “No, I hardly know the guy, but I can’t get his words out of my head.”

  “How does he make you feel?”

  I roll my eyes. This is part of the reason I didn’t call Lydia. She’s the friend that makes you analyze your feelings and what they mean. Paige is usually the girl to tell you to strap on your lady balls and man up.

  I recognize a good thing when I see it.

  Butterflies take flight once again. Damn them.

  “It’s hard to explain. Whenever I think about it or when he smiles at me, a fluttery feeling grows in the pit of my stomach, but I know I’m not ready to get out and date yet.”

  “When was the last time Nate paid you a compliment?” she asks.

  I wrack my brain for something, anything. Dinner was good, or the house looks great, but come up empty. The sad truth is I can’t remember the last time Nate praised me for anything.

  My silence must satisfy a response because she says, “This is the first guy to show you any kind of attention since you left Nate, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then that’s probably why you’re feeling all giddy about this. It’s nice to hear how awesome you are sometimes, and my guess is it’s been a helluva long time since you’ve had someone say it to you. Take the compliment for what it is and enjoy it, but more importantly, believe it. Nate is an idiot for letting you slip through his fingers, and one day you’ll find the lucky bastard who’ll realize Nate’s loss was his gain.”

  I smile and take a calming breath. “Thanks, you’re the best,” I say to her.

  “I know. If you need me, I’m here, okay?”

  “Okay. I’ll talk to you later. I’m going to get out of these work clothes and make some food.”

  “Alright. Catch ya later. Bye!”

  I hang up and feel relaxed for the first time since my lunch break. I don’t understand why I’m overanalyzing something so simple, but a part of me was freaking out. I know my anxieties have to do with my failed marriage and the time frame revolving around it, but talking to Paige helped me put those fears to rest and see this for what it is. I need to chill the hell out and stop reading into everything before I give myself an ulcer.

  AFTER STAYING AT home for so long, going to work has been an adjustment, but a welcomed one. Now that the week is over, I can finally relate to the need to kick your feet up and relax during the weekend. Even though the time to sit around and do nothing will have to wait, I’m kind of excited for the tasks I have laid out for myself today.

  I’m going apartment hunting.

  This might seem like a tedious and boring thing to have to do on a Saturday, but it marks one more step in my independence and moving on.

  Nate told me the house was mine and he’d take care of the bills when he moved out. While I appreciate the gesture, that would never work for me.

  I pull up to the leasing office of the first stop on my list. Taking in my surroundings, it looks to be a nice complex. Large trees give plenty of shade as I walk up the path leading to the door. The building is bright and clean, and once I walk in the staff is friendly and inviting. That all changes as soon as she shows me a unit.

  It’s small and it smells. There are water stains on the ceiling and the carpet desperately needs to be replaced.

  My nose scrunches up. “What’s that odor?”

  “Oh, the previous tenants had a cat,” Debbie, the leasing officer, says to me. The fact that she doesn’t seem to think this is an issue is alarming.

  “Is it going to be cleaned?” I’m not trying to be a snob, but this is disgusting. How do people live like this and not notice?

  With a smile, she says, “It has been.”

  “The smell is probably coming from the carpet too. Will it be replaced?”

  “It was steam cleaned. We only replace the carpet every four years unless the damage is extensive.” Again, she smiles.

  My only response is to blink several times. If this doesn’t constitute as extensive, then I don’t know what does. “Thank you so much for the tour.” I give her a tight smile and hope she takes the hint that there’s no way in hell I’m moving into an apartment that has an overpowering ammonia smell.

  She walks me back toward the office and I make a beeline for my car after thanking her again.

  The next two propert
ies don’t impress me much. They’re not as bad as the first, but not what I’m looking for. Feeling slightly disappointed, I drive to the fourth and final place for today. The entrance is nice as is the main office. Of course, I learned the first time that can be deceiving, but once I’m shown one of the units, I know this is the one.

  The space is nice and open with large windows that let in plenty of natural light. It’s only one bedroom, one bathroom, and was described to me as being perfect for someone single.

  Single.

  It’s an odd thought and one I’m still getting used to. Hearing Megan, the leasing officer, use those words emphasized that I’m one person now and no longer attached to anyone else. After a few minutes inside, I look at Megan and say, “I’ll take it.”

  About an hour later we’ve completed all the necessary documents, I’ve paid the deposit, and I can move in as soon as I want since my apartment is ready.

  My apartment.

  I haven’t said that since I was in college. Even then, I didn’t have a space that was truly all my own since I had roommates. For a second, I feel eighteen again, moving out of my parents’ house to embark on a new adventure and discover who I am. It’s scary as hell, but also liberating and exciting.

  With the welcome packet in my hands, I look down at it and smile. It might not seem like much to some, but this is a big deal to me. Not paying attention to where I’m going, I collide into a solid surface, stumbling backward a few steps. I look up as I gasp to see what I ran into and am met with green eyes.

  “Charlotte? What are you doing here?” Ethan asks.

  “I just signed a lease. Do you live here?”

  “Yeah, I’m in building four,” he says as he points over his shoulder.

  “Looks like we’re neighbors. I’m in building three.”

  His signature smile takes over his face. “Awesome. I know where to go if I need some sugar then.”

  “Hope you’re not counting on me. The extent of my culinary skills has been reduced to pizza and Lean Cuisine.” I should be used to cooking for myself. I did it for the majority of my marriage, but I just can’t be bothered with making an actual meal lately.

  “Well, when you get settled, maybe you can come over and I’ll cook for you.” He must sense my hesitance because he quickly adds, “As friends.”

  I give him a smile, thankful that he’s not being pushy. “That sounds great. Thanks.”

  “No problem. I’ve got to get going, but if you need help moving in, let me know, okay?”

  “I should have it covered, but thanks.”

  We say goodbye and I continue to my car. What are the odds that I’d be moving into the same complex as him? Things haven’t been weird at work and I attributed my freak out earlier this week to stupidity on my part. Ethan has been his usual friendly self while I learn how not to be an idiot around men who are nice to me. Given my reaction to him asking me out, I find it a little strange that the overwhelming feeling I’m having right now is relief. It’ll be nice to know someone when I move in and makes the whole thing a little less intimidating.

  The following weekend I stare at the small U-Haul truck that’s parked at the curb of the house I thought I’d raise children in. It’s a bittersweet moment for me.

  “Did we get everything you want to take?” Paige asks me.

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I give her a nod. She wraps her arms around me. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

  My only response is to nod again and brush a tear off my face.

  Pulling back, her hazel eyes meet mine. “You ready then?”

  I look back at the house before turning toward her. “You and Lydia go ahead and I’ll be right behind you.” Lydia isn’t much help in her state, but said she’d help unpack boxes and clean.

  Paige squeezes my hand in a comforting manner. “Okay, I’ll tell the boys to head over with the truck then too.”

  “I just need a couple of minutes to lock everything up.” I turn around to keep from seeing the sympathy written all over her face.

  Approaching the house for the last time, a wave of unexpected emotions consumes me. It’s like a gate opens and I’m not sure how to process it all. I was so excited to be doing this, but now that it’s final, a sense of melancholy has set in.

  I remember when we bought this house. We had just gotten married and I loved everything about it. From the spiraling staircase to the massive tub in the master bathroom, it was perfect. It also represented our fresh start as a team. Our foundation was supposed to grow and flourish within these walls. Instead, it trapped in my misery and serves as one of the final chapters of our story.

  A pang of disappointment and hurt hits me, making my chest ache. Yes, I wanted this, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I have love for Nate still, and those feelings won’t magically disappear overnight. It was easy to bury them behind my anger and hurt, but now that I’m staring reality in the face, there’s nothing to shield me from everything I’ve been ignoring for the last three months.

  I take one more look around before I walk out of here forever. Shutting the front door behind me, the sound of the click is deafening and symbolic all at once. With my eyes closed, I turn my key to the left and breathe. It feels like hours, but I probably only stand there for moments as I work up the strength to walk away. Slowly, I pull the key out of the lock, turn on my heel, and go to my car.

  This is it.

  I did it.

  Ten minutes later I pull up to the outside of my apartment building where Marcus, his brother, Sean, Lydia, and Paige are all waiting for me. Scarlett wanted to help, but couldn’t get out of a tutoring session she had already committed to.

  “Sorry I kept you guys waiting,” I say to them once I get out of my car.

  “No worries; we just pulled up a couple minutes ago,” Marcus replies.

  “Alright, boys, you do the heavy lifting and we’ll be upstairs unpacking,” Lydia instructs, clapping her hands like a quarterback does breaking the huddle. Marcus salutes her as a joke and she rolls her eyes before climbing up the stairs to my apartment.

  Opening my door, I’m met with a blank canvas. Bare walls and floors allow me the fresh start I seek. Despite my feelings from moments ago, I know this is what’s right for me. It’s going to be hard and I’m sure some days will be better than others, but I couldn’t keep living my life with Nate the way I was. I would have deteriorated into a shell of the person I once was.

  All of us, except for Lydia, start to bring things in. Paige and I grab the boxes while the guys get the furniture. We’ve just brought up our first load when I hear grunting and cussing.

  “Jesus Christ,” I hear Sean complain.

  “Dude, lift!” Marcus shouts at him.

  “I am lifting!”

  After more grumbling, they finally come into view and stumble through my front door with my love seat. They set it down with a huff. “Couldn’t be the first floor, could it?” Sean asks, stretching his back in an exaggerated manner.

  I shrug apologetically. “Sorry, it’s the only one-bedroom they had left.”

  “I told Lydia not to ask Sean. We needed a real man to do this,” Paige says to me with a roll of her eyes.

  Sean doesn’t say a word, just stares at her with heat in his eyes. The intensity makes me squirm, and it’s not even directed at me. They’ve had this whole back and forth thing going on for a while. Sean has made no secrets about being into her, but Paige keeps shooting him down at every turn.

  Like a lion stalking its prey, he strides over to her in measured steps. Invading her personal space, I hear her breath hitch from beside me. “If you’d say yes, I’d show you how a real man could make you feel.”

  I think all four of our mouths fall open at the same time. For once, Paige is speechless. He’s always been flirty, but never this direct.

  “Close your mouth, precious, you’ll catch flies.” With that, he turns on his heel and walks out of the apartment again.

  My wide eyes tr
ack Marcus who has his lips pressed together to hide his grin before following his brother.

  “Damn,” I whisper. “That was intense.”

  Paige blinks rapidly as if trying to snap herself out of her trance and get her thoughts together. “Ugh, he’s so gross,” is all she comes up with. Lydia and I trade knowing glances, but let her off the hook.

  It’s not long before everything is unloaded from the moving truck. I didn’t take much, just the guest bed, a dresser, love seat, some dishes, linens, and my personal things. That’s all I need for now. Plus, if I’m being honest, I couldn’t bring myself to go through all the things Nate and I shared together. It was too hard to look through albums full of happier times. Gifts that promised eternity. I just couldn’t do it.

  “Have you heard from Nate at all?” Lydia questions.

  I let out a sigh as I cut open a box of dishes. “I called to tell him I was moving out.”

  “Really?” she asks, looking shocked. “How did that go?”

  I pause, trying to find the right word. “Tense. Awkward. Depressing.”

  I pick up my phone and dial his number as I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants. I haven’t spoken to Nate since he moved out. If I think about it, disappointment creeps its way into my mind. If he truly loved me, wouldn’t he have fought for me? It’s another reminder that this was the best thing for both of us.

  On the fourth ring, I think about hanging up, but right before I do, I hear the call connect.

  “Hello?” he says out of breath, as if he had to run to get to his phone. Everything I had prepared to say flies right out of my brain. “Charlotte?” The hope in his voice kills me.

  “Uh, hi,” I reply.

  “It’s nice to hear your voice.” I can almost picture him with his eyes closed. “It’s been a long time.” After a long pause, he says, “I’ve missed you.”

  And there it is. The reason I didn’t want to make this call. I don’t want to feel for him, but in this moment I do. Because I know what I’m about to tell him is going to drive the hurt in even more.