The Wedding Issue

Chapter Five - My Personal Apollo

I sat crossed-legged on my black, leather chair and stared at the sun dipping into the horizon. It hid shyly behind the skyscrapers, but that didn't stop it from being just as fiery as it would've been at noon. The remaining sun rays reached out like tendrils of hope trying to latch on to the fading blue sky. It was promising the looming night sky that the light would soon pierce through the darkness at the beginning of every waking breath.

I sat and I pondered about this huge change coming my way. I built my company from scratch; it was the only love that was constant in my life. I had catered to this dream for as long as I can remember until it was finally a reality. I participated in every Writing Competition and Poetry Reading, and was the Senior Editor of my school's paper for two years in a row and before that I wrote practically every major article the school has ever witnessed. I even clawed my way into getting the Poynter Fellowship in Journalism to get into Yale. I aced all my classes and graduated with a stellar 4.0 grade point average. With all that, every decision I make towards the magazine not only affects me, but affects everyone that reads it. It was too much of a responsibility that I gladly carried on my shoulders.

Deep down in my gut, I knew this wedding issue was the right thing to do. The sales will be through the roof. It was a smart business move indeed. But I couldn't help but feel it was the beginning of some major changes heading my way. I couldn't quite decide yet whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. However, I knew for sure that I hated the fact that I'll just have to wait and see how this entire thing unfolds. I was more of the star act type, but now I was simply another umpire.

For the first time in a long time, instead of taking matter into my own hands, I was merely a spectator. I was way out of my comfort zone.

'You could never quiet that mind of yours now, could you?', a familiar voice pierced through my thoughts.

I hadn't realized that the sun had already set and all I could see where the twinkling window lights of the skyscrapers.

I turned around to see the man who startled me. He was one of the best dressed men in Manhattan, and his Balmain suit proved that. He looked incredibly young for a fifty-six year old, but then again he was in perfect health. His clean shave and silvery, white hair only added to his appeal.

'Well, I guess old habits die hard', I played along.

I got up and made my way to him. I was only too happy that he decided to drop by today. For many years, he was the only man to ever protect my heart. He still holds the title to this very day.

'I've missed you, daddy', I hugged him as tight as I could.

I may be tough. I may be a bitch sometimes, as Monica likes to put it. I may not give a damn and occasionally disregard others' feelings. But with my dad, I was a twelve-year-old with freckles on her face and a sophisticated French braid.

'You seem troubled, kid. Is everything alright?', he asked as I broke our embrace.

I looked into his catty-green eyes that were a mirror image of mine. There was so much wisdom in there, but not the type that dulled that beautiful twinkle in his eyes. After all he's been through; after what my mother put him through, and after what life threw at him after that, I admired him for standing tall and proud and ready to take on any adventure. Sometimes I wonder if he wasn't so kept together, would I have managed to be the way I am today. I got most of my strength from him.

I decided I didn't want to bore him with office-talk.

'Work stuff', I shrugged it off.

'Humor me', he insisted.