You and Sam continue working for a solid month. He's recounted through his teenage years and is now talking through his twenties. The older he gets in the timeline, the more detailed his stories become, and the longer it takes to progress.
'There's going to be a lot of editing this down,' you think to yourself, but you're immensely intrigued with every story he tells.
You have managed to put away any feelings you may have had for Sam outside of your professional capacity. You continue to work so well together, but no more dreams or heart palpitations. Even better still, no awkwardness, even after having to turn Sam down. The two of you were wrapping up when you got a text from Riley. They're coming over tonight. You smirk and text them back that you can't wait.
"Alright Sam, let's get next week's schedule in the books."
You arrive home and start dinner while you wait. Riley arrives and sits down at the table and immediately asks you to sit down.
"I'm cooking, silly. I'll sit when it's time to eat."
"No, I need to say this now."
Their tone was like nothing you've heard before. What could be going on, a death in the family? Did they lose their job? You sit down at the table, keeping an eye on the stove.
"You remember when we first started dating… and I was trying to get over my ex?"
"Yeah of course, she really did a number on you. I mean, my ex did to me too, but that's… whatever, go ahead, sorry." you realize you were rambling.
"Well, she reached out to me a few months ago."
"She did? Oh, well… that's… why?"
"She wanted to apologize mostly."
"Well that's awfully nice. Have you been able to find closure?" As the words left your mouth, your brain finally kicked in and you thought: if this was MONTHS ago, why hasn't this come up before?
"You could say that…"
Your stomach felt like a boulder landed in it. You had a bad feeling about this.
"We've had a few lunches here and there and uh…"
"Ri... Are you fucking kidding me?"
They look you in the eye, visibly guilty.
"We've fallen back in love, and I need to see it through this time."
You weren't sure what you wanted to do more: cry, vomit, or throw the pan of food at them.
"After everything she put you through, after everything we've been through, you're just going to walk away. Right back to that."
"I know it might be hard for you to understand, but… I mean, I never really stopped loving her to be honest. Now she loves me again, I have to try to make it work."
Your eyes start to fill up with tears… "Did you ever… love me?"
Their head falls… "I… I don't know. I wanted to."
The words felt like a brick to your stomach.
"You WANTED to?! Jesus Christ, Get the fuck out of my house."
"Please don't let it end this way."
"Oh, I'M not. YOU are. GET OUT!"
They sit there, unwavering, wheels turning, trying to figure out if there's a way to salvage anything.
You take the food off the stove and scream at the top your lungs. "GEEEEEEEET OOOOOOOOOOOOOOUT!"
They finally stand up and walk toward the door. Once it's opened, they stop in the threshold and turn back to you.
"I really am sorry." they say before shutting the door behind them.
You stand at the counter staring at the now overcooked food. You pick up the plate next to it and throw it against the opposite wall. You fall to the floor and did everything right and ultimately, you were the one who got hurt the most.
"And you moved all of my appointments?... Okay, great. Thank you. See you next week." You hang up the phone with your assistant.
There is no way you can work right now. You set your phone down and head to your couch. It's been a couple days since Riley broke up with you, but you're not quite ready enough to face all your clients. You grab your mug of tea and curl up on the couch. You put on a movie and try not to think about what a waste the last few years of your relationship were. Nearly an hour into the movie, your phone buzzes. You assume it's your assistant and ignore it but then another message comes in shortly after.
You sigh and reach for your phone and see that it's from Sam.
'Hey, I got a call you have to reschedule….
Is everything alright?'
You text him back, lying that you're sick and you'll be back next week. You thank him for checking in and put the phone back down. A few minutes go by and your phone buzzes again.
'Well, I hope you're being taken care of! See you next week!'
You feel the lump in your throat and swallow it down. You start to type that you're NOT being taken care of and what an absolute fuckwad Riley is, but you immediately erase it. No need to drag him into your drama. You put your phone back down and go back to your movie. Eventually the tea turns into tequila and the movies get more and more macabre. You spend some time texting with some of your closest friends who have been your biggest support since the breakup. They keep your spirits up until you finally pass out from all the booze.