She looked different. She was so…I don't know…different, and yet she was exactly the same. She had that little speech all worked out, I could tell. It was right out of a "How to Interview and Land the Job You've Always Dreamed Of" book.I had been hearing similar speeches all day.It kills me to think that it came to that. That she had to prepare to come and see me, that she had to choose her words with purpose, that she was nervous to be in my presence.
I tried to stop her, I tried to tell her. Didn't she hear the pleading in my voice?
"Donna."
What was it that she said? That she was as surprised as I was about her being good? Doesn't she get anything? I'VE ALWAYS KNOWN SHE WAS GOOD! I knew from the moment I hired her the first time (or she hired herself).
I tried to tell her "We can't do this." What I meant was we can't pretend like you never left me, we can't have this conversation because I will hurt you. After all, I had the file right there and she deserved it. It was right there in my drawer, right there waiting for her to come and for me to get the chance to show her how awful she had been. But just for a second, for one brief moment right before I pulled my feet off the desk and pulled open the drawer I considered giving her the job. I considered giving her MY job if it only meant that I could see her everyday. If it meant that I could hear her laugh and see her eyes light up and walk with her at a brisk pace down long halls to important places.
But she was awful. She had said awful things about my guy. She had left me to go to that cowpoke and she had to know what that did to me. So I read them out loud. I read her quotes with a bitter inflection in my tone and I even gave her the damn time and place when she questioned me. When I was finished I was drained. My throat felt raw like I had been talking for hours but I think it was all the things left unsaid that made it sound so dry.
She tried to justify it all. "It was my JOB, Josh."
Don't you think I know that, Donna? I have only spent the past few months praying that I wake up from the awful nightmare of you playing for the other team, of you being across the hall and not with me.
At least with her comment she had spoken my name, her tone had been so personal. I felt like I was right back in the Bartlett White House going another round with my assistant and best friend. But after that brief second she snapped out of it. She regained her composure and she was all professionalism again. How could she be so impersonal when all I wanted to do was let her know that I was alone and she made it that way? If it was anything, it was personal.
So I told her- I began with the emptiness I felt right then: they don't know me, He doesn't trust them and neither do I and, of course, I love you. Only it didn't come out that way. It was "I miss you everyday" but she knew what it meant. She couldn't even look at me. She looked down and I was left staring at the bangs of my Donna. I so desperately wanted to reach for her but I just stared. I might have been the one rejecting her for a job but she was the one rejecting me. I hadn't really planned on telling her but when I opened my mouth it just came out and now I was relieved that I didn't have to take it back. She knows, but she left anyway. I told her, but she pretended not to hear.
I offered to help and she refused, still not willing to meet my gaze. Maybe she was afraid she would break the professional exterior. Hell, I know that if I had even caught a glimpse of acceptance in her gaze I would've grabbed her and never let her walk out the door but she did and I slowly rose to watch her go.
I had to grab the doorframe to keep myself from running after her. I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from shouting her name. I just watched, unsure of when I would get to see her again.
The nausea in my stomach won't go away. It has been over an hour since she walked out.
I think I will burn this file of quotes. I think I will drive by her apartment tonight on my way home and just look up at her window. But one thing I won't ever do is forget that when I finally told her I missed her- it only made her cry. I won't do it again. She obviously just wants a job. I am only an employer to her, or not as the case may be.