Away From the Spotlight (59 page)

I got up sometime
during
the sixth inning to go to the bathroom.  I cried a little in private in the stall before coming out and
splashing
cool water on my face. 
There was nothing I could do to make the redness go away completely.  I figured
that
I would take a walk before returning to the seats
to allow more time to collect myself
.  I didn’t want the guys to see me this way.  No such luck
though
.  When I
exited
the ladies’ room, I found
John
waiting for me.
  It must have been obvious
that I had been crying
because he pulled me into a tight hug.

As I pulled away, John took my hand
as if he had read my mind in the bathroom
and said
,
“Let’s go for a walk.  It might make you feel better.”

I was dubious, but didn
’
t object.

We didn’t speak.  I didn’t let go of his hand
as
he
led
me
around
the interior walkway past the concession counters and stands.  He pulled me into a walkway that led to
ward
one of the exits, leaned me against the wall an
d kissed me.  I couldn’t
pull
away since I had my back to the wall.  Instead, I burst into tears.  In his shock,
John
leaned away and I ra
n to the closest ladies’ room.

When I finally composed myself, I peered out of the bathroom
and found
, to my relief,
that
John was not there waiting. 
Embarrassed that I had handled things so poorly,
I knew that I had to return to the seats, but
I
had no idea what I would say or do once I got there.

John was back in his seat when I returned, sitting as far away from my seat as he could and
appeared
deep in thought.  He didn
’
t speak to me for the rest of the game.  Max and Daniel noticed this and looked unhappy as a result. 
Aren’t
I just the life of the party?
  The four of us were quiet for the rest of the game and left at the bottom of the eighth inning to try to avoid some of the traffic.  The Dodgers were clearly winning anyway.

John and I sat in the back of Max’s car on the way back to the office.  John again sat far away from me
,
virtually pressed u
p against the door of the car.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, hoping that Max and Daniel couldn’t hear.

John relaxed a little and nodded at me.  He stopped leaning against the opposite side of the car, but didn
’
t move closer to me.  He also didn’t smile as if he understood that I was apologizing for reacting poorly, but was not inviting him to kiss me again.

Max
, Daniel, John and I
went out
occasionally
as a group
subsequently
in attempts to cheer me
, but John
was fairly distant and
never tried anything
again
, no doubt feeling utterly rejected as I seemed to prefer being alone
and miserable to being with
him.

After a while,
I
found that I
was able to live with my depression and hide it somewhat from my friends and coworkers.  I wasn’t the same as I was before Will, but most people who knew me would say that I had improved.

I
had one lapse in terms of a bad day and that was
on
Will’s birthday, November 12
th
.  Thinking about my birthday celebration and that I would have
attempted
to equal it
for Will
upset me greatly.  I
arranged for
a large group of my girlfriends
to go out with
me that night to a bar in Hollywood to take my mind off if i
t.

I drank heavily, which lowered my inhibitions
,
including the wall that was hiding my pain
, and I started to toast Will on his
twenty-sixth
birthday.  My friends
gave me
sympathetic
looks and I’
m certain that I must have looked
particularly pathetic
.  They tried to distract me to no avail.  I kept returning to the topic of Will’s birthday.  In my drunken state, I consid
ered this my celebration of it.
 
I almost texted Will to wish him a happy birthday, but I was still angry, and didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of
knowing
that I was still pining for him when he clearly wasn’t pining for me.
 
I knew
that
I was going to feel particularly awful
the next day
and not just from the after effects of so much
alcohol
.

T
hings returned to their normal colorless state
the next day, albeit with a raging hangover.

Before I knew it, it was
time for Bar
r
esults.  I was terrified. 
I
t was public information so my firm, my friends and anyone else could find out whether I passed or failed.
 
Thankfully, I passed.  I would be able to hold my head high when I went to work t
he next day
.  I was
extremely
grateful that I wouldn’t have to go through that
horrendous
exam again.

There were a lot of congratulations when I arrived at work
in the morning
.  I
made and
received calls congratulating
and being congratulated by
law school friends.  A number of the attorneys
, including the head of litigation,
took me out to lunch to celebrate at one of the
private clubs
in Downtown L.A.

As usual, John sat next to me, and
Max
and Daniel were sitting nearby.  John didn’t say a whole lot to me at lunch though,
remaining
hurt that I hadn’t turned to him after my breakup with Will.
  It was as if there was a continuing push-pull struggle going on inside of him.  He had to be near me, but
he
ignored me once he was.

When I returned to the office after lunch, I found a massive vase full of
carousel rose
s waiting for me on my desk, with a brief note in Will’s handwriting.  “Congratulations – I knew you would pass.  W.”

What the hell?
  I hadn’t heard word one from
Will
in
two
-
and
-a-
half
months.  There was no way I was keeping the
se roses
.  I thought about throwing them away, but instead, gave them to my secretary
, Marie,
for her to take home so long as she kept them out of
my sight
today.

It took every ounce of willpower I had not to pick up the phone and call him or text him to find out what he was thinking.  It tortured me to think that he could do
what he had done
and still possibly care about me. 
No, he couldn’t possibly.  If he loved me
as
I loved him, he never could have left me.
  I shut the door of my office and started to cry.

I didn’t get a whole lot
accomplished
that afternoon.

Toward the end of the day, after my tears had dried up and
while
I sat there in a daze, there was a knock at my door.  It was
Max
.

“We’re taking you out for drinks.”

“Who?”

“John, Daniel
,
and
me
.  We need to celebrate.  You’re one of
us
now.”

I agreed and we went to one of the nicer bars
on Bunker Hill
to celebrate.

“Come on.  You should be happy,” Daniel said as he handed me my first drink.  I must have still looked dazed.

I tried to put on a smile.  “I am.  It still hasn’t registered with me yet, I guess.”

John looked at me a litt
le concerned, but said nothing.

“Well, congratulations
!
  You did it
!”
Max
exclaimed
and we all clinked glasses.

I was drinking hard liquor tonight
,
spiced rum
and Coke
,
and at quite a clip.  T
he
drinks
felt good in that the alcohol
served to numb me a bit and
the sugar
perked
me
up a little.  After a while, though, it was clear that I was going to have to stop
.  S
o much for my hollow leg.

“I’ll take her home,” John volunteered when it was
obvious
that it would be a very bad idea to put
me behind the wheel of a car. 
I
don’t mind.  I’ll
pick her up tomorrow
and take her to
work as well.
”

Max
and Daniel agreed. 
Unlike John, t
hey had girlfriends to get home to that night.

John was quiet in the car most of the way home.  The cool air as we walked back to John’s car and the passage of time
during
t
he long ride home in Friday night traffic to the Westside
serv
ed to sober me up a bit
.
  The numbness I wanted to feel was wearing off.

“Are you going to be okay?” John
finally
asked as we started to get closer to my place.

“I feel
fine
.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.
 
I had imag
in
ed I would be celebrating passing the Bar differently, that’s all.  I’ll live.”
  I was
certain I wasn’t very
convincing.

“I’m sorry.  I’m glad, anyway, that
I
got to celebrate with you.”

“
Me too
.  I’m sorry I’m such a drag today.  It’s just . . . he sent me flowers after all this time.”

John’s
voice was quiet.  “I know.  I heard.”

“What is he trying to
do
to me?
  It was getting better.  It really was.  Now, I’m back to square one again.”  I started to cry softly.

We pulled up in front of my apartment building.  John got out of the car
,
walked around
it,
and opened the door for me to help me out of the car.
  T
he cool air
sobered me up more.  It was starting to make
even
more of the numbness go away.  I started to cry a little harder.
 
John put his arm around me and walked me to my door.  When I opened the door, I let him follow me inside and he closed the door behind him.  He walked up to me and put his arms around me
to hug me.  I shook as I continued to cry in his arms.  I was hurt and angry. 
As had been the case for the past
several weeks
, John made no effort to take advantage of the situation.

As I got angrier and it started to outweigh the hurt, my tears started to subside and I hugged John more tightly.  John continued to hold me gently and
started to
stroke my hair.

I then made a bad decision.  Well, I don’t know that I
rationally
decided anything, but my inhibitions were lowered and I kissed John on the neck.

He pulled away from me and looked at me questioningly
,
like he couldn’t believe what I had just done.  I had spent months rejecting him.  I could see the stunned disbelief, but I could
feel
the desire still there.  I could also
sense
that he was fighting himself from reacting and responding to my advance.

“I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re like this,” he
said, trying
to convince himself as well as me.