The next morning, as requested, I stopped by Trina’s office before the start of my shift and tapped on the door.
“Amara.” My boss beckoned to the seat in front of her desk. “How are things?”
My forced smile surely didn’t fool her, but it was worth a try. “Great.” I perched on the edge of the chair. “What’s up?”
Trina steepled her fingers under her chin, swivelling her chair from side to side. “Well, something major has come up.”
My mouth dried as I straightened. This couldn’t be good.
“I’ve been offered an administrative position with the Health Region. It’s a huge promotion, one that I’ve been working toward for years.”
“Wow. That’s amazing. Congratulations.” My smile was genuine. This woman had been an incredible advocate and mentor over the years. “You’re leaving? When?”
“I start at the end of August.”
“You’ll be missed.”
“My new office isn’t far, so I’ll be around.” She slid a paper across her desk. “The search for my replacement starts tomorrow. You’re the ideal candidate.”
My eyes widened.
“Don’t look so shocked. This is the inevitable next step in your career. One you deserve. I’ve taken the liberty of writing a recommendation letter that you can include with your application.”
“Thank you.” Huh. Not what I expected. “I will definitely consider applying.”
She laughed. “Just do it, Mar. The job is the perfect next career step, plus it’s more money—a lot more money, which never hurts, either.”
A salve of sorts on my open wound, but this sounded too good to pass on. Maybe this was exactly what I needed; a new sense of purpose in my life. The challenge might lift me out of my funk over Jake.
That evening, I revised my resume and filled out the online application and attached Trina’s written recommendation. There were so many reasons to jump at this opportunity, especially after the many years of study and training.
The last thing needed to turn things around was to have that conversation. As his phone rang, half of me hoped he’d answer, while the other half wished I could avoid this ending.
“Hi,” Jake said, his voice soft and low. “How are you?”
“Surviving.”
“That’s it? Just surviving?”
“How do you expect me to feel?”
“I can’t even begin to guess.”
“Really, I don’t know what we were thinking in starting up again. Long distance never works and brief visits every seven to ten days aren’t nearly enough to sustain a serious relationship.”
“Then we agree. It’s serious. Maybe it’s time things changed.”
I let the silence hang, biding my time. Let him fill the space.
“Have you ever thought about moving home?”
“And do what?”
“We have hospitals and pharmacies in Halifax.”
“We have an ocean in Vancouver.” The moment the words left my lips, I knew that could never happen. My promise to myself solidified; this time my needs had to rate on an equal footing. That would never happen considering Jake’s life situation as a widower with a young child.
“It’s beautiful one, but if I tried to leave Halifax, it would not go over well with Ben and Stella. My support system is here. Marisol. Dean. Dara.”
“Not to mention that fabulous hard-won grant. I get it.”
“Will you consider moving?”
My needs. Stay firm. “You haven’t been totally honest. You’ve kept me apart from your life. You freaked about me seeing Sari. We’re still an inconvenient secret to almost everyone. I want more. I want a family. That’s non-negotiable.”
“So, that’s it?”
“I’m sorry. I love you, but …”
“You’re not even willing to try?”
Tears built and my throat ached. “I have tried!”
“Don’t do this, Mar. Not again.”
“It’s futile to chase what can never be.”
“This could work if we were in the same city.”
“My boss is leaving. I’ve applied for her job, which is a huge promotion and more money.” Silence fell and dragged on for several seconds.
“Well, that’s what’s important, right? Your career?”
“Like yours isn’t? You’re all set on this grant. You get to save Kejimkujik.”
Another long silence. “I never told you it was Kejimkujik,” he said, finally.
“Yeah, exactly my point. Tell me again, whose career is more important? Whose needs come first?”
“For me, it’s about supporting my daughter and digging myself out of a trench. I’m not sure it’s the same thing.”
“Do you love your career?”
“Yeah, of course,” he said softly.
“Well, so do I. Just because I don’t have a child doesn’t mean my dreams are any less important, Jakob. My struggles might be different, but I’ve still poured my heart and soul into making something out of my life.”
“I’m not saying—”
“Yeah, you are. I’m the woman, so I should bend and sacrifice what I need in favour of what you need, including my dreams of having a child. Even worse, you won’t let me all the way in, keeping secrets, leaving me hovering on the fringes.”
“That’s not—”
“But it is. I could love her, you know, but you never gave me the chance. What’s changed? Nothing. So, we’re done.”
“Mar, please don’t—”
“Take care of yourself. Be happy.”
The brief sound of fuzzy dead air was followed by a click. Not that there was anything left to say. I curled up on my bed and watched the images on my digital photo frame. Me with Jake at Lonsdale Quay. The two of us on the rocky beach the morning after being stranded while kayaking. The picture he’d taken of us on a hike in Deep Cove. Mixed in were several from the recent wedding in Toronto.
A few from our time together in Halifax, along with one of our many visits to Peggy’s Cove, had worked their way in too. Those reminded me of another lifetime; a time when we were young and carefree. During the past weeks, we’d proven you could never go back. Trying to relive the past and rekindle the flame was impossible, at best feeding the illusion that you had actual control over anything.
I rose from the bed and unplugged the frame, tucking it in my bedside table. My time with Jake was something to treasure, but now it was officially over.
