His eyes trail up and down my body, at my lacey shorts and thin wifebeater. “You can just wear that, I wouldn’t mind.”
“I’m not sure this outfit would help Ruff Love’s reputation. When will you be back?”
“Half past three, I’m sure.” He licks his lips, seeming like he’s going to say something. Then he just nods at me. “I’ll see you later, love.”
“Bye,” I say softly, watching him leave.
Once the door shuts, I settle down on the couch, pulling a blanket over me, even though it’s not that cold. I just want the comfort.
After a few episodes of watching Dawn French, I decide to pull out my laptop. I log onto my work email, which I admit I haven’t checked since I got here, and scroll through the emails.
To my surprise, they’ve all been dealt with by Candace. I guess Lucy gave her my login info. Nothing is private when you work for someone else and she seems to have taken over the first week of my absence with ease.
Actually, when I’m looking at her replies, it’s quite obvious that she’s doing my job far better than I ever could have. Probably better than I ever will.
And that makes me sad. Like, really sad. And regretful. Not that she’s doing a better job per se, but that the work was so uninteresting to me, that I could never build up enough passion, enough feeling, to care. And if I stayed in this job, like I always expected I would, I would never reach that point where I was giving it my all. Because in the end, it didn’t really matter to me. I looked for joy and purpose outside of it.
Now I’ve found Lachlan. And while he’s not my purpose to life, he’s bringing so much joy, love, every fucking emotion possible that I feel like I’m living in color instead of shades of black and white. What if I could find a job where I could feel a similar kind of joy for the daily work that I did? What if I could find purpose in the things I did every day, find passion that rivaled the passion I felt for him. Who says that only one aspect of your life can be fucking fantastic?
The more I stare at the emails, the more I realize that Candace, for whatever reason, loves doing her job and even more than that, loves doing my job. And I don’t love anything about my job whatsoever. Now that I know what love is, I don’t want to be stuck where it’s absent.
I take in a shaky breath as the realization hits me. I need to find my purpose and my passion. I need to leave my job and take a risk.
I need to stay here, with him, and start again.
But knowing it doesn’t make it happen and doesn’t make it easier.
The fear will always hold you in check.
I check my phone and calculate the time back at home. Everyone is still asleep back in San Francisco. I can’t talk to my mom and ask her what she’d think of me moving here, even though the thought of bringing it up pains me. I can’t talk to Stephanie and Nicola and tell them that I’m in love with him and that he’s in love with me and that even though he’s messed up, I still want to chance it and be with him, permanently.
So I make myself a cup of tea, cuddle up with the dogs and stare out the rain pattered window, as you do when you’re feeling all pensive and moody.
I guess at some point I fall asleep, because I wake up to Lachlan coming in the room and planting a kiss on my forehead.
“Tough day?” he asks lightly.
I glance up at him, his face flushed from running. He looks like the picture of health. It’s hard to imagine just a few days ago he was hungover and burdened by his own shame.
“Yeah, exhausting,” I tell him, stifling a yawn. “Is it already half past three?”
He nods. “Aye but we don’t have to be at the gala until seven. You can keep napping if you want.”