Love and War

Work

It's a Friday, and thank God. I'm so ready for this weekend to begin. It's been a long week at work - two meetings more than usual, although there's good money. Being an author that writes articles encouraging woman to change their lives isn't exactly the simplest job but it's the best I've owned. There's a great feeling of success from knowing that I could be possible changing lives. I remember one woman even wrote me a letter calling me 'the saviour' because of all the help I did with her marriage in an article about cheating. Another wrote in once saying my words gave her courage to stand up for herself despite being heavily pregnant and possibly having to give the child away for adoption in my article about putting family first. The child and mother now both live their happily ever after. It's such a rewarding business.
I sit at my computer in my office and struggle to concentrate. The sun looks warm as it glows through my window. What I wouldn't give to be out there. I check my clock - 12.38. Seven more minutes until lunch. I can't help but slam my head gently onto my keyboard thinking about how long these minutes will drag. That's when my phone rings. I don't even lift my head.
"Hello?" I answer.
"Emma, this is Julie in reception. I have your husband here to see you," I sit up at that.
"Send him up," I smile at the thought of this surprise visit.
He knocks gently on the glass door to my office. I look up from my screen to see him smiling that casual grin he does with two coffees and a paper bag in his hand. I open the door since he doesn't have a hand free.
"Hey you," I smile gratefully, letting him into my office. It's nothing special - a bookshelf again the wall, my desk with my computer and a photo of me and Neal (my husband) on and a small couch under my window overlooking New York City. The potted plant, the coffee table, and my framed copy of an interview about being voted New York's Inspiring Woman of last month hung up behind my desk. It's my proudest achievement.
"Hey back," He leans in and gives me a quick kiss me before heading to the couch, placing the coffee and bag on the table. He spins back around to face be and pulls me into his embrace. I feel his hands gracing my back and stroking the black material of my dress. "How's my working girl?"
"Bored, she could use some entertainment that won't take up too much time."
"I can think of something," He smirks suggestively before biting his bottom lip.
"Here?" I ask, bewildered at the thought of someone like my boss walking in.
"Sure, here is a problem but my parent's bathroom during last year's thanksgiving celebration is no problem." He teases.
"That was a little more private," I hint towards the glass door.
"We could always go back to the apartment for a bit? How long's your lunch?"
"45 minutes. Not long enough,"
"I could be really quick," He laughs teasingly.
"I'm gonna have to say no," I laugh back, pulling from the embrace and walking to the couch. He follows quickly.
"Fine, fine - I can wait," He holds his hands up defensively before taking his coffee from the holder. I take mine and he holds it as a toast. "To working for your happily ever after,"
I can't help but laugh at how cheesy the toast is. "How about 'to waiting for desires',"
"I'm definitely not toasting to that," He refuses.
"Fine, to us,"
"To us," He clinks his coffee cup against mine in a toast.
As Neal digs into the paper bag for the muffins he's brought me my boss walks in. "Emma, I'm afraid we need to bump the meeting up earlier - the publisher had to book another appointment. Be in the conference room in five minutes."
"Okay, thanks David." I sigh heavily. I can't even catch a lunch break in this place. I quickly down my coffee and bin the cup and holder. I turn back to a disappointed Neal. "Are you okay?"
"Do you know how long it's been since we've had a meal together?" He states. I can hear the anger building in his voice.
"Neal, I-"
"I know, you're sorry. But that's not good enough. For the first three years of our marriage we were so happy. I used to see you everyday," He stands and walks towards me. "And nowadays you're sneaking out of bed early without saying goodbye and you're staying late to get work finished. I gave up my old life for you and you barely have time to even see me. Then, whenever I do see you you're too tired to talk. I miss being what we once had. I miss having time to spend time with my wife. Does it even feel as though we're married to you?" I stand speechless.
"Three minutes," My boss calls as he walks past my door towards the conference room which sounds louder than it should in the awkward silence as I search for the right answer.
"You're needed." Neal says bluntly as he storms past me.
"Neal," I try to stop him but he doesn't even turn around. The bag of muffins is still on the coffee table. I place them in my desk draw so they don't attract flies and head to my conference, all whilst attempting to keep my emotions in tact. I hate fighting with Neal, but he's being unreasonable - maybe I do work more than I should but that's for my work. If my work makes me happy then shouldn't he be happy for me? Or is it me being unreasonable? Did Neal really give up everything to support me?
Maybe I should talk to him later. After the meeting.
I sit in the conference with David Nolan (my boss) and two other work colleagues (Miss French, the reviews columnist, and Doctor Hopper, the self help columnist). "You ready for this?" David smiles, knowing how much we need to impress the publisher. That's why he's bought his most successful journalists with him - to shine.
"Ready," We all reply before the woman walks in.
Time to shine.