Love Not at First Sight by Sarah Ready

16

Sam

It’s beenforty-four days since I left. The same number as the depth of the pit that Veronica nearly fell in. I push the thought away. Concentrating on the past doesn’t help me. For the last six weeks I’ve been looking toward the future. Planning, building, being the man that I know I am.

“We’re all set,” I say. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Knight. Me as well,” says Kyle Davidson, a passionate, driven PhD and my newest hire, the soon-to-be Head of Research and Development at Knight Research Laboratories. “And may I say,” says Kyle, “I believe wholeheartedly in your mission and I respect you immensely. You aren’t at all like what they—” He drops off and clears his throat. “I mean…thank you for the position. I look forward to overseeing our research.” I can see on the video chat his cheeks redden slightly.

I hold back a smile. Kyle Davidson is one of more than two dozen hires I’ve made in the past month. I chose him as Head of Research and Development because of his candor, and because he was one of the youngest and most brilliant PhDs to come out of MIT in the last decade. He was working at an underfunded academic position scrambling for grant money until I lured him away. It only took the promise of using science and technology for the betterment of humanity in any way that our team could dream up. With one condition, our first project must be developing a prototype search and rescue rover.

“Kyle,” I say, “as you’re going to be my Head of Research and Development, I need you to feel comfortable being honest with me. I don’t need pandering, I need someone to tell me the truth. There’s no need to step around my feelings. If we want this project to succeed then I need honesty. Tell me when something works, when it doesn’t. I give you leave to be upfront with me. At all times.”

Kyle nods and clears his throat again. “In that case,” he says, “you aren’t at all like I was led to believe. You’re driven, you’re probably more intelligent than I am, which is hard to accomplish, and I think that you’re going to achieve great things. And I look forward to doing that with you.”

“Good enough,” I say.

We hang up and I lean back in my office chair. I put my hands behind my head, close my eyes and let out a long sigh. I’m in my Tribeca office. The same place I’ve been nearly eighteen hours every day since I got back to the city. I’ve been working day and night to put together the business Veronica and I dreamed up in the cave. It’s scheduled to begin operations in less than two months. I found a space just outside Romeo that I’m ready to make an offer on. My hires expect to be relocating to Upstate New York. I sigh. What will Veronica think when I start running my business from her hometown?

It’s taking a gamble, one that I’m not sure will pay off.

When I left, I wanted to turn around. Within ten feet of leaving her hospital room, I wanted to turn around. But what she said hit home.

Six days before, I had been cavorting with models, donning my player persona. I’d spent five years building that image and I needed to take some time tearing it down. I needed to start, at that very moment, being the man I knew I was. Becoming someone worthy of myself again and through that becoming worthy of her.

She may be afraid of players. She has a right to be, her father pulled a number on her. But she doesn’t have to be afraid of me.

I should’ve told her who I was while we were in the cave. But I realized something important. In the cave I couldn’t tell her who I was because I still hadn’t accepted me for me. And if I couldn’t accept myself, how could I expect her to?

So, I accept me. Just as I am. A man who felt unworthy, then was betrayed, then made mistakes, tried to bury pain in the wrong way, and then came out of it again. I accept all of it, the good and the bad.

Instead of turning around and going back to her, I decide to keep moving forward. Building a life I’m proud of.

I lean forward and pick up the phone. I dial the architect firm overseeing the renovations to the house in Romeo.

“How’s progress?” I ask without preamble. Dean isn’t one for small talk.

“The climbing wall’s finished,” he says. “I thought you were crazy to ask for it. But I have to say, she looks good.”

“Send a picture,” I say.

My phone vibrates and I pull up a photo of the room. The corner of my mouth lifts as I stare at the image. The wall looks like rock, but has various routes, holds, and technically complex spots to keep a rock climbing lover busy for years. It’s exactly what I wanted.

“It’s perfect,” I say. Before we end the conversation, he promises that the house will be finished on schedule.

I look at the photograph of the climbing wall and wonder what Veronica would say. Every day, at least ten times every hour, I think of getting up, walking to my car and driving up to Romeo. Evie, in her tendency to psychoanalyze everyone, tells me that I’m suffering from a condition called…love. I tell her to stuff it. She thinks I should go up to Romeo and woo Veronica with all the charm and suavity I have. That’s exactly the opposite of what Veronica would want, so I tell Evie I’m handling it.

Except, at times like this, when all I want is to see Veronica, talk to her, hear her voice, touch her…I’m not sure I am handling it.

I’ll keep on my course though. I’ll start the think tank, get it up and running. I’ll renovate the home that we dreamed of together. I stay out of the media spotlight, grateful to move beyond the parties and wastefulness. I’m back working behind a computer on projects I’m proud of. I spend Sunday afternoons with my parents and my sister. My mom and dad came back early from South Africa when they heard I was missing. They haven’t said anything, but I know they’re relieved that I’m back to being the son they knew. I sent a baby gift to my ex-business partner and ex-wife. I feel nothing but thanks to them. Without their betrayal I would never have met Veronica. I’ve moved out of the past. In less than two months, Knight Research Laboratories will open in Romeo. The house will be finished.

And I’ll ask Veronica…I’ll ask her if she’d like to meet me in the outside world.

It’s the waiting that’s hard.

I drop my head in my hands.

I miss her.

I rub my eyes. I miss her so much. The feel of her hand in mine, her fingers laced and holding on to me tightly. The sound of her soft breath while she sleeps. The feel of her body wrapped in my arms. The sound of her voice. Her sense of humor and her determination. How much she cares—for her friends, her business. How much she cared for me.

I think back to the night we thought all was lost. When we made love. I’ve never in my life felt so whole and like the world was full of so much light and hope, even though we were lost in the dark. She was a guiding star. Even now she’s guiding my actions. I’m becoming the best man I can be.

But I miss her. So much.

Then, I hear a noise. A strange scratching sound, then a knock.

I look up at the door. The knock sounds again. It’s not at the door though. It sounds like a knock on glass. From behind me. On the window.

I turn around.

I shake my head. Stare in shock.

Veronica’s hands shake on the window ledge and she holds herself against the exterior of the building.

I swear and rush to the window. Yank it up and open. I look down. She’s climbed without a harness sixty feet up the side of my office building. Sweat drips down her forehead, her hair tangles in the wind. She blinks at me and gives a cautious smile.

“Hi,” she says. Her arms shake on the ledge.

I grab her and pull her into my office. She lands with a soft thud on the hardwood. I notice her climbing shoes. There’s chalk on her hands and smudges of chalk on her face. I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight in my life.

I never knew how much I would love the sight of a woman in climbing gear and hiking shorts.

I want to grab her, kiss her, make love to her. But instead what comes out is, “What are you doing?”