I puzzle over this while I supervise the open play time for the dogs, throwing balls and sticks and sitting down on the bench with the elderly beagle who just wants to cuddle all day. I know he's going to have a hard time finding a home, and I try not to think about it as I stroke his ears.
The one nice thing about this new, terminally boring job is that it leaves me plenty of time and energy to volunteer again. It feels strange, like a time machine has taken me back five years and dropped me in a place where I no longer really fit in. Nothing else has changed much, but I have.
I start spending weekends, evenings, and even some early mornings at the shelter. When I mention it offhandedly to my new boss, he offers me a flexible schedule to help out with my charitable endeavors. He loves animals, you see.
I feel like I'm on a different fucking planet.
When Shelly walks into the room, the whole atmosphere changes. Every single dog's head perks up, and they're all looking at her, waiting for instructions.
"Sit," she says, quietly, and they all do.
The woman is terrifying, and I love her.
"Meg, are you all right?" She comes over and lays her hand on my shoulder. "You seem like you're a million miles away, sometimes."
Is it that obvious? I feel my ears start to burn. "I'm sorry. I'll try to focus better. I'm just…"
"No, no, no. You're not doing anything wrong." She sits down beside me. "I'm just worried about you, that's all. If you ever want to talk, I'm here."
"I know." Sighing, I look down at my hands in my lap. They're just sitting there, inert, like they don't know what to do. It feels like everything takes a special effort. Breathing. Thinking. Every muscle in my body is particularly heavy and sluggish. "I got myself into kind of a mess at my old job. I'm glad I left. Not that it was my choice. But I think it was the right one, even if it seemed horrible at the time."
"That job was definitely not good for you." Shelly nods. "I could see it draining the life out of you, every time we ran into each other. But you don't look any happier now, Meg. You still look like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Have you really left that place behind?"
Of course I haven't. But how can I explain that, without confessing that I slept with my boss? I don't want Shelly to know that about me. It seems so juvenile, so ridiculous. I'm going to come across like the delusional one - unable to accept that a guy who's so spectacularly out of my league doesn't want to settle down and have babies with the likes of me. No matter how much he likes the sex, I never should have mistaken it for love.
It wasn't a mistake, though. I know it wasn't. He felt something and he ran the fuck away from it. If that's how he's going to be, then I don't want him in my life.
"It's hard to let go of the fantasy of somebody that you have in your head, you know?" I say, finally. It doesn't make any sense out of context, but with Shelly that seldom matters. "Even if you know they're really not like that. It's like we just see bits and pieces, and our brains fill in the rest with whatever we want to be there."
She's nodding. Once again, it seems like there's something she's not saying, and I can't imagine what. Shelly seldom finds a reason to bite her tongue.
"Well, whatever's going on, I know you're gonna be okay." She squeezes my shoulder. "Let me know if there's anything I can do."
I promise her that I will, but I can't imagine how anyone could help me at this point.
***
For some reason, my TV keeps ending up back on the financial channel. It's all stuff I needed to know when I was working for Adrian, but it's almost entirely irrelevant to my life now. All the same, I stay informed. Whenever there's nothing better on, I learn about all the latest mergers and acquisitions and wild speculation.
I'm just used to it, I suppose. It's like a lullaby at this point, or Seinfeld reruns for anyone who grew up in the 90s. It's nice to know there's at least one thing in the world that hasn't changed.
But Jim Cramer is really letting the spittle fly tonight. Something must have happened. I didn't hear any air raid sirens, so it can't be all that important, but I turn my attention to the screen all the same, while I gather up my dishes.
"…so with this unprecedented move, what do you anticipate for the future?" one of the other talking heads is asking.
"You know, John - obviously we've seen things like this happen before, big upsets like this, but ultimately I think this'll be a blip. Of course it'll depend on the impression the new CEO leaves. But there's no sign the company's been mismanaged before now. Ultimately I think people are going to forget the name Adrian Risinger."
I don't drop the glass I'm holding, but thinking back on it, I'm not sure how the hell I managed that.
"It's a little early for a midlife crisis," someone else is saying. "There's going to be suggestions - in fact, we're already seeing implications that he might have stepped down because of some corruption or an issue he otherwise doesn't want to deal with. And that's going to be swirling through everyone's head when the markets open tomorrow."
With numb fingers, I type his name into the search on my phone. Five or six news stories pop up immediately. There's a video. I don't want to hit play, but I do.
"I've already commented on this…I've said everything I'm going to say. It has nothing to do with Risinger Industries. I see a prosperous future for them without me. This was never the right position for me, and I was never the right man for the job. My only regret is that it took me so long to realize it."
I sit down, mostly because my knees have stopped working.
He lived for that company. It's all he has. All he's ever had. And now he's just…walking away?
Panic is clawing at the inside of my throat, and I realize this whole time I've been scared for him. I don't know how he can live without me, and how's that for hubris? All along I've been writing him off as the arrogant one, but I've grown to believe myself indispensable to him.
Clearly, I'm not.
Being Adrian's secretary was my whole identity. For five long years, it was all I had. I didn't want to believe that I let it seep into me so deeply, but I have. Adrian will be fine without me. He'll be fine without the company. In fact, he'll probably go back to writing. He's a man of many talents, unlike me. Unless dealing with an impossible people is a talent. It doesn't seem to be coming in particularly handy now.
Heartache keeps me awake that night, and I wish I could just forget about it. His life and mine are no longer intertwined. In fact, I have no plans to speak to him ever again.