The first day I went back to work, I could see the pity on everyone's face. Everyone wanted to ask, but no one did. It wouldn't have made a difference even if they did. Nothing could make it any better, and it certainly couldn't get much worse. I'd had a migraine for more than a week straight, so everything had a slight yellow tint to it. The whole world looked sad, but not nearly as devastated as I was.
On the way to my office, I passed Brandon in the hallway. "Hey, Katie!"
"Hi, Brandon."
"I missed you while you were gone. Everyone did. Jim's been more than a little cranky with you gone."
"Yeah, well, I'm back now," I muttered as I headed toward my office.
"Hey, Katie?"
"Yeah?" I stopped and turned around to face him.
"If you need anything, anything at all, just let me know. You have my number. Even if you don't want anything, just give me a call."
"Thanks, Brandon."
As I walked into my office, I could here Brandon running down the stairs. That guy was always too happy and too nice. Way too nice.
When I sat down at my desk, I noticed for the first time, just how messy it really was. There were files strung along the floor, post-its sticking to everything with a flat surface, about 8 half-full glasses throughout the room, and there was even a partially eaten sandwich on one of the chairs. I was not looking forward to starting this routine again.
I catatonically went about my due diligence without much thinking at all. After 2 years of being Jim's assistant, I could do the job asleep, which was an especially good thing after one's whole life has been destroyed.
When my boss came into work about two hours late, he was a complete asshole as usual, further proving my theory that he is in fact without a soul.
"Where's the Anderson file?"
"I don't know. I haven't been here for two weeks."
"Well, find it for me."
After he left to take his two hour lunch break, I went over to his desk and found the Anderson file on top of his desk. I set it on his seat. That man has to sit on something before he notices it.
As the day pushed on, my migraine lightened its death grip around my brain only slightly, but it was enough for me to get some work done. By the end of the day, I was about halfway caught up on everything Jim had left for me to do.
When the clock struck five o'clock, I got up and left without saying anything. I figured no one would say anything to me anyway, and even if they did, I wouldn't care.
When I walked in the house, it was colder than it should have been. Rather than turning up the heat, I grabbed a few blankets and laid down on the couch with the remote and a bag of unhealthy snacks. Five hours of bad reality television and a bag of potato chips later, I fell asleep.
The next day was much like the last one. I was actually pleasantly surprised that I slightly enjoyed the monotony of it all. I didn't have to think about anything, which seemed like a blessing.
Just as I was packing up my things to leave for my lunch break, Brandon walked in with a bouquet of brightly colored flowers poorly hidden behind his back.
"Just because," he said as he put them down on my desk.
"Thanks, but you didn't have toβ"
He interjected, "I wanted to. Are you leaving for lunch? Where are you going? I'm pretty hungry myself. Mind if I join you?"
I was planning on hitting the drive-thru at the closest burger joint like I did everyday. I wasn't much in the mood for company, but I knew it was going to be hard to talk my way out of this one. Plus, I was too emotionally exhausted to even attempt a poor excuse. "Sure. I don't really care where we go."
"We'll decide on the way there. I'll drive," he said as he motioned for me to go ahead of him.
"So, what are you in the mood for?" he asked as he opened the car door for me.
"Like I said, I really don't care. I'm not even that hungry."
"How about The Bu?" He was referring to a local restaurant called Malibu Grill.
"Sure. That's fine."
At the restaurant, he ordered a chicken salad with a bottled water. Normally, when I went out to eat with someone that ordered healthy, I would do the same, but I didn't care.
"I'll have the linguine with chicken please." I looked at Brandon to see if there would be a reaction, but he was just smiling. "And a Long Island and an ice water."
"Drinking on the job, now?" He asked, but I could see in his face he wasn't judging me, just making conversation.
"Actually I'm on break. If I'm not getting paid, it's my time."
While we waited for our food, we made light conversation. I actually caught myself not thinking about the past couple weeks of my life and how everything had changed so drastically. I let myself think, if only for a moment, that my life wasn't completely over.
"Here you go," the waitress said as she put our food down in front of us. Of course my meal looked huge compared to his small salad, but it also looked so much tastier.
"Wow," he sighed, "I should have ordered that."
"Would you like another Long Island?" the waitress asked.
I looked up at Brandon to see if he had any reaction, but he was just smiling. "Sure," I said as I handed her my glass.
I looked down at my plate, noticing just how much food there really was on it. I caught Brandon eyeing it, too. "You can have some if you want. There's no way I'll eat even half of it."
"No thanks. I'm okay with my salad. You can take home the leftovers.
Silence fell upon our table as we continued eating. In the past few weeks, I had becoming strangely comfortable with silence. Before, I hated silence, but now it was oddly refreshing. However, I felt bad for Brandon. I could clearly see he wasn't as comfortable with the silence. "Thanks for inviting me to lunch. I'm having a good time." It was true. I was enjoying myself, but I wasn't sure if it was the company or the two Long Islands I had downed. I didn't want to, but I was.
"My pleasure. Anytime."
"I might just take you up on that." I smile crept across my face. I became very aware of just how odd it felt to smile. I was torturing myself, and before now, I had seen no end, but now there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Why should I torture myself over his mistakes? I deserved to be happy.
"So." Brandon's voice broke my self-motivational speech in my head.
"So." I replied.
"You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but what happened, anyway? I think you'll feel better if you talk about it with someone."
"No, it's okay. Suddenly, I don't mind talking about it."
"Good. Go ahead, then."
"Well, to make a long story short, Chris left me to get back together with his ex-wife. Now, I'm smart enough to realize that that is his choice, or mistake if you want to call it that, but if affects me more than normal break-ups do, because I'm losing his kids too." I was brought back down from my temporary high. Now I remembered why everything really was as bad as I had previously thought.