AFTER A BROKEN HEART
PROLOGUE
I met and married my wife while I was still in law school, and we had our first son before I graduated, then our second son, right after. It wasn't ideal, and we struggled at first, but I excelled in school, nailed the bar, and was hired by a very large company as a corporate lawyer.
The company I work for mostly contracts with the federal government - the State Department and DOD, primarily. They also work with foreign governments and in the private sector with various entities, usually in conjunction with federally mandated or sponsored projects.
Early on, my job was challenging, interesting, and financially lucrative, which allowed my wife to be a stay-at-home mom, and for us to live a comfortable, upper-middle class lifestyle. However, after my third year with the company, five years into my marriage, I became an international rep for them which required me to travel - a lot. Five years later, I was promoted to a lead counsel position. Each step brought more money, and more travel, which meant more time away from home. Naturally, this impacted my ability to be a husband and a father. Then in my twelfth year with the company, I was promoted to 'the' lead counsel position - which meant I spent even less time at home. By my third year in that position, my wife had had it. We had grown apart. She had fallen out of love with me, and after fifteen years of marriage, she divorced me. That was three years ago.
I don't blame her for leaving me, but it still broke my heart. When she left me, I was lost, and felt completely alone. And while I was used to the loneliness of the road, I always had the touchstone, the anchor of my home and family when I returned from my travels. That was gone. And though my job defined me in many ways, it was still like half of my identity was stolen from me - erased overnight. That's the way it felt.
I had essentially sacrificed my marriage and my family for my career. I loved my wife deeply. She was and is a wonderful woman. And to this day, I still have feelings for her, and I am hounded by regrets.
As far as my sons go, I have a good relationship with both of them, but I guess I would have to characterize it as one of an uncle or good family friend. My oldest son still calls me 'Dad', but my youngest calls me by my name, and calls my wife's new husband, 'Dad'. My oldest son just graduated high school. And while I still attend some family events, like my son's graduation, I'm the 'other father', the 'ex-husband'.
As I start this story, I'm still in limbo, unable to return to what was, unable to move forward...But where do you go after a broken heart?
INTRODUCTION
I'm Brian, turning 42 years old in a couple months. I am an attorney specializing in international business law. My company sends me wherever they have major deals that need my expertise, or where they have contractual or other problems that require my specific skills. For that, I get paid handsomely. But I've been doing this for almost fifteen years, being a road warrior, and I'm tired - tired of living on the road, tired of the lack of continuity in my life. When I first started, it was exciting, interesting, challenging, then just challenging - now, just a grind. Enough whining for the moment.
For my age, and in spite of the stress of my job and my unorthodox lifestyle, I'm in pretty decent shape and have aged well. Dogged devotion to a good physical regimen has helped me keep fit, and my nature is to handle stress well - very well. That's one of the reasons I was and am so successful - and why it has been so difficult to move away from the work that I've been immersed in for so long. I'm too good at it, too valuable to my company; as I am reminded every time I broach the subject with corporate of decreasing my current role.
I'm about 6'-2" and 200 pounds, with a reasonably good physique. I am devoted to a good physical regimen, and hit a gym whenever one's available. I run at every opportunity, averaging around five klicks for regular maintenance. I was a runner in high school and college and still get out and do up to 15 k runs when I can (my 'knee-limited' distance).
I won't be coy about it; I am a fairly handsome guy. I have a medium complexion, tan easily, and have thick, sandy-brown hair, slightly wavy and worn in a standard business cut. I have a sprinkling of gray coming in at the temples. I can grow a nice-looking beard and mustache, and have in the past, but am clean-shaven these days. When I was younger, I wore facial hair to look older. Now, I don't wear it, in order to look younger. Yes, I am vain enough for that to matter.
I have medium-brown eyes, with kind of unique irises that have a prominent pattern in them. I mention it because people often do - 'like cat eyes' is the most common remark. I have a strong jawline and chin with softly-chiseled facial features, including a straight nose that fits my face well.
I'm very even-tempered; perhaps too even-tempered. My wife, sorry, ex-wife, would get upset at me because I didn't react to things as strongly as she did. I just have a tendency to take things in stride - work through what I can, not overreact to what I can't control, accept the unavoidable and move on. Don't get the wrong idea. If there is something that needs done, and there is any way I can do it, I'm tenacious. I just don't get rattled that easily. I guess that made me seem emotionally distant to her at times.
Anyway, this story, my story, begins right after my oldest son's graduation. It was a great event; he graduated third in a very large class, and is a prized wide receiver in football. So, he got a full-ride scholarship to a very good college. I'm very proud of my boys; but this event, like others, only served to remind me where I fit into the family circle - on the outside.
While I was happy for my oldest son, and happy to get to see my youngest, I was left feeling down, afterwards. And seeing my ex-wife with her husband is still hard. I have tried to move on. I've had brief affairs, but again, my job complicates things. However, honestly, I haven't met anyone that I feel that way about yet. Which brings us to my story...yeah, I know, finally!
STORY
I. CLOSE ENCOUNTER
As fate would have it, I had to leave straight from my son's graduation party for Kuwait. I left on autopilot, putting my emotions aside and my personal life on hold (not that I have much of one), as I have so many times before.
I flew out of Atlanta, where I'm based, and caught the overnighter to Amsterdam en route to Kuwait City. With airport time, it's a grueling twenty-plus hours, but by no means the longest or most arduous of trips. I was only going to be on the ground for three days, but the round trip would take almost a week - with more time in transit (doorstep to doorstep) than on the ground working. We call them 'grinders'. I usually travel with an associate, but this final meeting didn't require it, so I was flying solo. The trip was uneventful, went smoothly, and no travel hiccups; but on my return trip, something out of the ordinary did happen.
Saturday, the last leg of my journey required a layover and plane change at JFK. I went to the Delta lounge for a drink and to relax. It was already a 24-hour day for me, so I was beat and not at my best. As I headed for a seat in the first-class lounge, I caught my carryon bag on a counter leg, and turned to see what I was hitting, but kept on walking as I jerked it free, not looking where I was going. I promptly collided with a person trying to get by me, almost bowling them over. I turned and grabbed, catching the woman's arm and up righting her, before she toppled. I was mortified.
"Oh gosh! So, so sorry. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she laughed. "Good catch, though. I was headed for the carpet if you hadn't grabbed me."
"Well, I feel terrible..."
"No, goodness. It was just an accident. I saw what happened. They never leave enough room to maneuver with luggage in these places. They're worse than women's clothing stores," she joked.
"Well, thank you for your understanding."
"No problem. So, I was making my way to the 'convenience'..."
"Oh, of course," I quickly replied and nodded. She smiled and headed to the restroom.
I found a table near a wall and out of the way, so some clumsy oaf wouldn't come along and knock my drink over (tongue firmly in cheek). The lounge hadn't been too busy, but after I sat, one or more arrivals brought a fresh group of travelers and the place filled up, especially the 'good' seating areas. (I don't know who designs some of those chairs, but you would have to be built like one of the characters in the Star Wars bar scene to sit in them.) I pulled my cell phone out and surfed email and text messages, catching up on things, and tried to ignore the crush as people jostled around, getting seated and fussing with their luggage.
Someone approached and cleared their throat, "Hm hmm, excuse me sir, I think you're in my seat."
Startled and surprised, I looked up, quickly apologizing, "I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone was sitting here..."
The woman laughed, "Just kidding. Actually, I lost my seat while I was in the restroom. I'm hoping I can join you..."
"Oh, of course!" I quickly stood, offering for her to sit. It was the woman I'd tried to bowl over.
"Thank you."
"Least I can do after trying to flatten you," I remarked.
"Well, consider us even. I hope I'm not intruding; you looked busy."
"Oh, no. Just wading through messages - nothing important. So, where are you headed?" I asked, adopting the standard 'traveling-strangers' dialogue.
"Atlanta. You?"
"Yes, also. End of a long trip."
"Oh, where are you coming from?"
"Kuwait."
"My, I guess that is a long trip. I'm coming from Milan, myself."
"Business or pleasure?" I asked, continuing with polite dialogue.
"Business."
"So, are you based in Atlanta, too?"
No. Actually, I'm based here in New York. See, my last day in Milan, I got a call that my mother passed, so I hurried back here, wrapped up business, and now I'm going to take care of her affairs, and finalize arrangements for her."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Was it unexpected?"
"Not entirely. She was only 78, but had heart disease, and has been frail for the last two years. I saw her in late April and she was motoring along. She lived in an assisted-care village, and they called Thursday - heart attack. So, not unexpected, but it still caught me by surprise."
"Well, my condolences. May I ask, did she have a will?"
"Yes, I'm the executor."
"Good. I asked because when there's no will, it can be a real trial dealing with the state."
"Yes, that's exactly what my mother's attorney advised when we were faced with her failing health."
"Good advice, and I don't say that just because I'm an attorney."
"Oh, you're an attorney?"
"Yes, but I'm not a bad guy."
She laughed, "No, I wasn't thinking that. Honestly, I thought you looked like you might be in broadcasting; you know, like a news anchor or something."
"I don't know if that's better or worse..."
She chuckled, "Neither. Um, I'm Kimberly...Kim," she offered her hand.
"I'm Brian; it's a pleasure, Kim," I replied, shaking her hand.
"So what kind of attorney are you?"
"Oh, your standard ambulance chaser."
She laughed again, "I don't believe you. So, really..."
"I specialize in international business law and represent my company in business dealings around the world."
