Chapter 5 - Out

The following Monday, it took me more than an hour to get ready for work.

I sat in front of the dresser in the one bedroom apartment I rented just staring at the mirror and contemplating a very important matter – is it time to update my resume and apply to a different company?

I used to love going to work.

My focus was building a career out of the thing I love the most.

I thrived in research and writing.

My passion could be felt in the articles I wrote.

I felt such a high when I find a topic interesting enough to gain more hits and followers for our company.

Being praised by Miss Nita was also an ego booster.

I was assigned to the how-to section of our online magazine.

It was similar to a DIY.

But instead of tips on how to fix toilets or how to remove stubborn grease and stains from glass pans, the articles were about revitalizing love and relationships.

I admit I wasn't the best person for the job.

My dating life was non-existent.

Nop doesn't count because I don't see him as a potential romantic partner.

He was very vocal with his intentions but I put a stop to that.

I wasn't uncomfortable knowing that when we're together, he always thought there was more to what we were doing.

Nop was heartbroken but I don't want to string him along and give him unrealistic expectations.

The problem was, lately my mind was occupied with Sam.

When we're together, the room was smaller.

There was this frenetic energy that surrounded us.

It was difficult to sit still.

Maybe I was being paranoid but I felt as if Sam was always looking at me.

Being around her was never easy.

Not then.

Not now.

Our history was getting in the way of work not to mention the fact that my co-workers were bugging me about our new boss.

Over the weekend, my phone kept buzzing with questions about her and how she was face-to-face.

They were mostly from Yha, Noi, Chin, Auntie Mhee and Nuch.

I told them she was okay.

That she was not going to bite if they were within striking distance.

I was going for humor but the reply scared them even more.

The conversation veered towards office gossip about how Sam was notorious for being strict even before Diversity got bought.

There were rumors about the employees not being able to go on breaks with a few of them getting hospitalized for dehydration and stress.

The accusations were terrible.

I couldn't believe what they told me.

There was a part of me that wanted to defend her.

But the other part was unsure if the Sam they were talking about was the same person I met so many years ago.

I was at my desk finishing the latest article I was working on about how to detoxify the bedroom and turn it into a lover's paradise when the phone rang.

When I saw the extension number, I hesitated but lifted the handset just the same.

What does she want now?

The message was brief.

I saved the document then went up to the second floor.

Once again, my co-workers stared as I made my way to the management offices.

It was ridiculous how they viewed going upstairs as a death sentence.

"Do you want something?" I asked as soon as I got in.

Sam was at her desk busy clicking the white mouse.

She was still dressed all in black.

Was she mourning the demise of Diversity?

"Pack your stuff. We're going out to find great stories on the streets," She didn't even look at me.

"I have a deadline to meet," I argued.

The constant interruption of my work was making me overwhelmed.

I never missed a deadline and I was not about to start now.

"I pushed your submission for another week. Now go get your things or do whatever it is you need to do," She waved a hand to dismiss me.

When I didn't move, Sam turned around from her chair.

"I'm giving you five minutes to get ready," She looked down at the rose gold wristwatch.

"Scratch that. Meet me in two minutes at the parking lot."

"Ten minutes," I crossed my arms in defiance.

"You're arguing with me?" She raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow.

"I'm negotiating with you."

"Six minutes," She bargained.

"Eleven," I held my ground.

Sam let out a sharp exhale.

"Eight minutes or I'm leaving without you and docking your pay.""Nine or you'll get my walking papers at the end of the day."

Sam's eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared in frustration.

I matched her angry expression with an unblinking stare.

It was bold of me to mention quitting knowing that if she agreed, I would be out of work by 4pm.

But we were no longer in high school.

I wasn't the same Mon who answered her beck and call.

She couldn't just drag me anywhere she wanted.

I was not the willing travelling companion anymore.

"Are you just going to stand there? Time is ticking," She tapped on the watch, the diamonds that adorned the face catching the light and blinding me.

I turned on my heels and stomped on the steps for Sam to hear.

She was standing beside a bright yellow sports car that was too flashy for my taste.

But then again, she talked about getting one even when we were young.

I didn't realize that she would choose a color that was this eye catching.

Back then I knew it would come true.

Sam usually got what she wanted.

Her grandmother made sure of that.

Except for the one thing she never fought to have.

I took deep breaths to ward off the unwanted thoughts that were making my heart twist tight in my chest.

Sam unlocked the car as I approached and got in.

As soon as I was seated, the proximity and the faint sweetness of the perfume she wore were all over me.

She still used the same fragrance.

Its warmth brought back memories that were harder to push aside.

My nose tingled stimulating my brain with long forgotten moments.

Moments filled with cuddles and kisses on bright summer mornings and cold rainy nights.

I turned my head to the side and slowly took a deep breath as I fastened my seatbelt.

This was going to be a bumpy ride.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked as soon as I was settled.

"You'll find out soon enough," She switched on the ignition and drove away.

The silence was very uncomfortable.

I focused on looking anywhere except her face.

When she turned the radio on, I wondered if she sensed I was uneasy.

Music was better than sitting here in complete silence.

The satellite radio played popular songs and I relaxed a little bit.

With the radio on, I didn't feel obligated to talk to her.

What was I supposed to say anyway?

Talking about the past was definitely off the table.

But the universe was not on my side.

No sooner had I began to relax when a familiar muted string guitar intro started playing.

The very famous singer sang the first line and it took all of me not to touch the dial and change stations.

I focused on the busy streets to distract myself.

But even without looking, I felt that Sam's attention was captured too.

It was the same song she played when I finally made up my mind to audition for the choir.

I came in early as usual hoping to get my bearings before the rest of the students arrived.

When I opened the door to the music room, Sam was already there.

The piano was at the farthest corner of the room and her back was turned to me.

The golden afternoon light streamed from the glass windows casting the top of Sam's head with a sepia glow.

I closed the door gently and listened as she sang.

This night is flawless don't you let it go.

Her voice was gentle and soothing.

I heard her sang before but it was different this time.

There was no one else to overpower her voice.

It was just the two of us in the large room filled with musical instruments and great acoustics.

The moment felt so sacred.

I felt so privileged to witness her all alone.

The song was arranged to match the high pitch of her voice.

As I stood across from her, I imagined whom she was singing the song to.

Was it Kirk, the captain of the basketball team, who was also her boyfriend?

Sam sounded so inspired while she sang so maybe she was thinking of him.

When the melody slowed down as she played the end of the song, her voice got softer as if she was wishing to the high heavens to grant the one thing she desired.

Please don't be in love with someone else.

Please don't have somebody waiting on you.

The last note hung in the air.

I swallowed as the longing in Sam's voice warmed my heart.

Was she in love with someone else?

But before I could process what was going on, she turned around and saw me staring at her.

"You're drooling," She smirked.

"Huh?" My hand went up to my mouth.

It was dry.

"Did you like the song?""It was alright," I stammered and hid my embarrassment by not telling her the truth.

"Only alright?" She scoffed.

"Your mouth was hanging open."

"It was not," I protested.

She was like this at the library too.

I think she enjoyed teasing me because I get flustered easily.

"Whatever. Are you here to audition?"

"No."

"No?" Her eyebrows furrowed.

After hearing her sing, I second guessed if I really wanted to do this.

Sam was very, very good.

I was intimidated.

"Come on," She waved at me to come closer.

I stayed rooted behind the door.

"You're here anyway so let's see what you got," Her tone was not challenging or anything but my resolve already disappeared.

Maybe I will try again next year once she's gone.

"I'm not here to audition. I got lost on the way to the biology lab," I lied.

Sam's full lips pouted.

"The chemistry lab is right across from this building. I'm guessing you already knew that because it was part of the orientation," She folded her arms across her chest.

"Then I'm heading out to go there," My hand was already on the door handle.

"Sing with me," Her tone was soft.

"I don't think I can."

"Why not?

"Because you left me speechless."

She was slack jawed with my reply.

My face was burning up.

Before she could think of something to say, I opened the door and ran as fast as I could.

Sam made a sudden left turn and the movement jolted me back to reality.

When I saw where she was taking me, I found it hard to breathe.

You have got to be kidding me.

Miles of farmlands stretched far and wide and the beauty of the countryside brought both a feeling of warmth and dread inside me.

Why the hell did she bring me here?

What was on her mind this time?

Sam stopped in front of a yard that was teeming with vibrant green plants and the brightest pink roses.

The flowers were in full bloom and it was inviting but my shock robbed me of the joy of it.

"Let's go," She got out of the car and once we were both outside, I spoke.

"Why did you bring me here?" The anger I felt when I realized where we were came out in full display.

"I wanted you to remember the last time you were happy."

"Who said I wasn't happy?"

An eyebrow lifted in a flash.

"Didn't I tell you that we were going out to find a story?

"But not our story," I argued.

"Are you admitting that we have a good story?"

Her responses were making my blood rise faster than my ability to form coherent words.

First, she whisked me off from the office and away from the article I was struggling to finish and now this?

"I don't know about good," I let out a sharp exhale.

"We have a history. It's all in the past. They're gone and done, Sam. There was no reason to revisit it," The roaring pulse in my ears was deafening.

"I have a perfectly good reason," She was undeterred.

Sam was calm and composed.

I disliked how she could be put together while I'm completely ruined, laid bare and raw.

"What's your reason?"

"You need a good story. I read all your past articles. They were starting to sound the same."

"Miss Nita didn't seem to think so or she would have shut down my ideas," I defended myself.

"She's biased because she likes you."

The observation surprised me.

Sam had only been with us for a few days and she already concluded that?

"And you're not?"

"I'm not what?"

"Biased," I replied.

"What I am doesn't matter. You were the one who said that what we have was history."

"Was looking for a story the real reason why you had to drive far and drag me here?"

"Mon," She sounded exasperated.

"I brought you here as your boss and not as..." She didn't finish what she was going to say.

"Not as?"

"Nothing," She shook her head.

"We need a good story. The best ones are those that come from the heart. The ones that are real and resonate with a lot of people."

"Why don't you write the story? Why does it have to be me?"

Sam closed her eyes and then took a very deep breath.

I was getting in her nerves.

Good.

When she opened them again, the darkness that began to settle there was gone.

"I wanted you to write it because it was obvious to me that you still haven't forgiven me for what I did."

The honesty and urgency in which she said those words startled me.

I didn't expect this.

I was not ready for this conversation.

"If you were in my place, would you forgive me?" I tossed the question back.

"I would," She answered without hesitation.

"Why?"

"Because I cared about what we had. I cared for you."

"Past tense."

"Past, past participle, whatever tense, it doesn't mean that I couldn't do something about what happened."

"Why do you want to change it? You can't take back the words you said. You broke your promise and there was no way that you could put it back together."

"That's why I wanted you to write the story."

"Why?"

"I'm hoping that in doing this, you would find it in your heart to finally forgive me," Sadness passed across her face.

It hurts to see that but I spent years trying to forget.

I didn't succeed.

I tucked away the pain of what happened and when it didn't bother me as much, I took that as a sign that perhaps I was getting better.

But when I saw her again, the memories and the feelings that came along with it was like a dam that overflowed.

There were mornings when it was hard to open my eyes and get out of bed.

If money wasn't tight, if I didn't need to work, if I didn't need this job, I wouldn't bother waking up and going to the office.

"Why does it matter to you if I forgive you or not?"

"Believe it or not, Mon, but I haven't forgiven myself either."

I didn't have a comeback for that.

"What if I say no?"

Sam looked up.

I expected to see anger in her eyes.

But what was lurking there was tenderness.

"I could use the I am your boss card but I won't."

She thought for a moment.

The sweet scent of the roses were all around us.

I was starting to feel lightheaded.

"Why don't we do it this way?"

"What are you thinking?"

"Think of it as an experiment."

"Like you did with me?"

"You know you were more than that."

"That's what your grandmother said."

Sam's breath quivered when she inhaled.

This must drive her crazy how uncooperative I was.

"Why don't we write the article together?"

"Is that the best idea you can come up with?"

"What's the problem now?"

"I don't want the entire company to know what we were to each other. My life is not for everyone's consumption."

"We don't have to reveal that it was our story. We can hide our identities."

"Just like what we did before?"

"Mon, you don't have to remind me everytime," Sam said, annoyed.

"I still don't understand why you're pushing for this story."

"Do I have to spell it out to you?"

"Yes. Please do," I said with the utmost sarcasm.

"Okay then," She took another deep breath.

I steeled myself for what she was going to say.

"I want you to forgive me."

"And if I don't?"

"Then I will disappear from your life forever."

"You did that for years. The problem was you came back."

"Not voluntarily. I did it for my company. Don't flatter yourself."

"If I don't agree to do this, what are you going to do?"

"I will fire you."

"Let me save you the effort."

"What?" Her eyes grew wide.

"I quit." I stomped out of the yard with the blooming roses and began the tedious walk back to the road.