Song of the chapter: Hurt Somebody - Noel Kahan & Julia Michaels

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Tick . . .Tick . . . Tick . . . Tick . . . 

I stare ambivalently at the clock hanging on the stark white walls of the typical corporate office, watching as the hands ticker around ever so slowly. The wait tortures me more and more as every second goes by. I can feel the sweat increasing up on my forehead, my neck, my hands — anywhere that is possible — as this waiting game builds on my internal struggle. I look down at my fingers and sure enough I have bitten my nails down to miserable stubs, the cracks in my manicure now appearing just as the cracks in my mental strength are. 

So much for courage.

Now is not the time for self doubt and yet here I am in the same situation that I have been in many a time now. This would have to be around the sixth time that I have thought that I could finally muster the courage to make at least this one change, a change for the better. A change to what is right. The sixth time that I've sat waiting, whether it be here in this office waiting room, at a restaurant, in a lobby. And potentially the sixth time that any sense of determination I've had has prevailed to both a desire of security or a fear of any alteration in my life.

"Miss Adams," I hear, my head shooting up in response to the voice which has broken me out of my reverie.

I find the owner of this oh-so-disinterested tone sitting in her chair behind the mahogany front desk, waiting for my response with a clear lack of patience splashed across her face. I smile in response but this clearly has no effect as her finely plucked eyebrows remain raised with judgement.

"Mr. Tanner will see you now if you would please follow me."

I shoot out of that uncomfortable attempt of a leather armchair that they have in the waiting room to follow the tall and incredibly slim figure of the receptionist through the glass doors which would lead to Derek Tanner. 

I wish I could provide you greater clarity as to what Derek is to me. I would say boyfriend but we never actually agreed upon such titles. What do you call a guy you've been seeing for some months now yet have spent most of that time trying to end things because you know you're not right for each eachother?

I can kind of understand some of this receptionist's attitude; why I get the raised eyebrows and short responses in comparison to the sweet and attentive responses others receive. This change I've tried to make already six times happens to be the cutting of all ties with a certain tall, dark haired lawyer waiting in his office. Of these six times that I've tried to end things with him two of them have been at the office, with numerous calls to the receptionist to check on his whereabouts before hand and much of my uncomfortable nerves being present in the conversation.

I know, what a bitch I must be if I've seriously considered breaking up with my boyfriend at his work on numerous instances. Yet it was the best place that I could think of with my muddled state of mind. I've since updated my plan to include an after-work lunch. You see, in my head  and with my questionable logic, my apartment wouldn't be a good place because then he'd need to awkwardly leave without me forcing him to. I didn't want to end things at his place because then I couldn't control the situation: who would be there, what we'd be doing. Plus I didn't want to leave him all alone at home after ending things.

I've since updated my plan to include an after-work lunch on a Friday night — what I was meeting up with him for. It would be mutual territory and a public setting which ensured that no drama would ensue, though Derek didn't seem to be one for drama. At least I think so. 

Part of the reason was also just that it was the soonest and best time I could do it after sporadically convincing myself yet again to take this leap into the unknown. I had an early mark from work, an early mark to me five pm. I was going to go home but then my mind went on a random rampant that led to me gaining the courage to finally do this damned thing. I actually believe said rampant began with me walking past the cafe I was planning to take Derek to now. The sight of a lovely, smitten elderly couple had me looking to my future, one thing led to another and voila! I couldn't wait a day longer, today was the day I would break up with my boyfriend. 

As the receptionist leads me down the hallway, past office after office filled with lawyers earning three times more than me I observe her outfit of choice. With cleavage and tight skirts like the ones I always see her in; well, I'd seen enough of Suits to know she'd very rather popular here. I wonder if the romantic escapades of a real law firm mirrored those of the fictional counterpart. Her apparel and my other surroundings distract me for some time until finally I see Derek's office waiting for me at the end of the hallway.  I've had a speech prepared in my head and yet as I walk closer and closer to him there might not be a point to it. I will probably go in there and let the nerves get the best of me once again, remaining at this block in the road of my life for even longer.

What makes my ability to carry through with this task even harder is an inability of mine to truly understand my need to end things with Derek. There was no particular chain of events that led to my decision. Just this weird feeling that has truthfully been lingering; like I was lost, incomplete within this relationship. I would be with him sometimes and just consistently sit there wondering if I could see myself in forty years with him still by my side and me truly happy; could things change from how I felt in that moment. And the answer was always no. There was just something missing.

And yet, I just let it fester on — the doubt, the relationship. 

Don't get me wrong. He was a perfectly lovely guy. He's been consistently engaging, he's intelligent, kind on the eyes, charismatic. He hasn't really put a foot wrong. He made the first move and I went along with it, and I think I've been trying to catch up ever since. I went along with it all — the chimes of his ticking off everything box on the practical checklist of dating being a distraction. I think I had also faced the reality that it had been some time since I had made any romantic effort with anyone and in comparison to all those other 20-somethings that rushed through the streets of New York City I truly was not living up to my potential. So I went along with it and waited to see how it would unfold. 

I wasn't unhappy and I don't think he's been either. Unless I'm completely oblivious, I think he's actually been rather satisfied with how things have been going — like he's settled into the groove of things. But did I think this was the happiest either of us could be? 

No. Certainly not.  

I never would've acknowledged any of these thoughts if it wasn't for my partner in crime Jessica Cartwright. If anyone in my life could be described as the devil on my shoulder it was Jess, not that she necessarily convinced me to make bad decisions. She would just convince me to make decisions that weren't so safe every once in a while — that weren't so Ella-esque — to make sure I would put my emotions over others.

It would take Jess many times to act as this little devil on my shoulder before she could even get me to acknowledge the idea that maybe I should end things with Derek. She could see that something was off with me and had this magical skill of deducing what it was. It also helped that after every one of her few meetings with him she didn't seem to be very fond with him, citing her people radar was going off. Suffice to say, she was very much open to the discussion of this particular topic. 

Over and over again she would bring the topic of him up over our usual lunches or catch ups when we both got home. It was only a couple of days ago that we had our latest lunchtime debrief where she had convinced me to do what I'm doing now.

"So you still dating Mr Melatonin?" she had asked, using her personalised nickname for the guy she had deemed incredibly dreary. 

I looked up from my drink to perform a clear roll of my eyes at her. I wasn't even bothered to glare at her or get frustrated anymore. She had asked me this question a million times before and I didn't let her get to me anymore.

"Yes, I am still dating Derek, Jess," I answered succinctly.

"Ugh."

Now you might think, gee this girl sounds like she needs to mind her own business and stop being so judgemental. I mean, I've wanted to say it before but quickly realised it was far from the truth. Whilst Jess could be described as many things — enthusiastic, curious, passionate — being overly critical or nosy was not one of them. It seemed this side of her only really shone through when 1. her gut feeling was screaming out at her about someone and 2. when she was protecting those she cherished. Both applied with this situation. 

I shook my head at her and kicked her under the table. I wasn't going to let her get to me again. I had built myself up to follow through with the break up too many times already, each time facing the reality that I was giving up a good, stable thing.

"You know, I don't think you give yourself enough credit," she remarked.

Usually I'd just get comment after comment about how there were better guys and opportunities waiting out there for me or she'd give me a recap of what she saw as the mundane events of the relationship so far and our potential future. She appeared to have adopted a new approach this day. 

"Oh yeah?"

"You're kind, funny, smart, considerate, gorgeous. Every lovely adjective I learned in third grade. The whole shebang. I don't understand why you struggle so much to comprehend that you deserve more," she told me, with her stare and tone so penetrating as she leaned forward over the dining table that I had to look away. "You deserve more than to just settle for good enough."

"Jess, that's nice of you to say but you know I don't believe that there's something perfect out there waiting for me. That everything I could possibly want or need is waiting for me, and I'm destined to get it. Lord knows my parents taught me that," I reminded her.

"Yeah, yeah. You've told me time and time again. Not that I believe that the girl who had her future planned down to every detail, who stared with awe at the films and tv shows and would dream of the kind of romance she saw for her future, would actually think that. But that's not the point — the point is that even if something better doesn't come along you shouldn't be living your life on cruise control holding on to something that isn't really satisfying you." she argued, dropping her hands from her drink to lay them flat against the table top as she stared at me rather intensely.

"That girl you're talking about disappeared after her parents, who she thought were the epitome of true love, divorced forcing her to live on two sides of the world. She saw what happened when two people didn't live on cruise control and went all the way in only to crash and burn. Maybe you don't get the thrill of the high speeds, but with cruise control you sure do know what you're going to get and more often that not it's your safety at the end of it all," I explain, going along with her metaphor. 

"Ella, you're not them. They made mistakes that you should know not to make thanks to them. If there was a purpose for all the hurt that everyone went through it was to teach you to appreciate those little pieces of a happy ending that appear in life and to work hard for them. You didn't all go through those struggles so you could ignore all that and settle," she argued, grabbing my hands in hers as she notices my eyes beginning to fog up at the reminder of my family's past turmoils.

"Am I really settling that much? We're not that bad, surely?"

"Oh honey, anyone can see you're settling," she assured me. "Fine, maybe happily ever afters don't exist. Maybe it's an impossible fantasy once you become an adult. But happiness and fulfilment aren't a fantasy, and it certainly doesn't have to come in the form of a man. Although, if a man and love is going to form a part of  your happiness then you're not going to get it through settling for just good enough."

And she was right, I had to admit. 

I never really looked at my parent's love life or all that had happened in our lives from that perspective. Maybe it was because all of these moments happened when I was still a child so all I would see is the happiness and then the sudden heartbreak that left my dreams of a fairytale shred to pieces just as their hearts were. 

Perhaps though, Jess had a point, I considered. I don't have to surrender to the notion of a happily ever after but I should at least strive for what will make me content for as long as possible. It was becoming ever present that a certain person wasn't quite doing that, or at least wasn't doing that as much as someone else out there could possibly do or as much as I could do without their presence in my life. 

Jess would spend the rest of the lunch rambling about a co-worker in the way where we'd agreed I didn't necessarily have to listen — she just needed to get it off her chest. So, I allowed myself to truly think about my life. Do I see myself growing old with Derek? Having children together, exploring the world? Is being with him what I imagined for myself? No. Not in any way.

I stirred my spoon through my drink, round and round, watching how the liquid moves. Free. Unrestricted. Unpredictable. I needed that.

I knew what I had to do. 

And here I am. Waiting outside his door. Through the floor to ceiling glass door I can see him sitting behind his desk. He is quite a decent looking guy, with his raven black hair and forest green eyes. He is relatively tall and has a beautiful olive complexion thanks to his Mediterranean roots. However, the problem was never with his looks, although I did have to admit that for some reason I never truly got all the butterflies and chemistry that I had imagined and waited for. I should've known then that things weren't right. If I had known then maybe I wouldn't have had to struggle so much now.

As I watch him working I think about how naive he looks right now, oblivious to what would happen soon, and I feel the guilt begin to rush in. However, this time I know that there's no going back. This is what I truly want.

I watch as the receptionist knocks on his door and he lifts his head to find me waiting there. A smile creeps across his face yet so does a sense of confusion as to why I could possibly be here. An unplanned visit from me is not common. Spontaneity was not a common trait of our relationship. Derek motions for us to come in and so we do, the receptionist announcing "Miss Adams here to see you."

"Thank you Kaitlyn," he responds to the receptionist I'd been referring to as Miss Short Skirts for the last year before she walks out of the room, "Elle, what are you doing here? Not that it's not nice to see you but this doesn't usually happen. Is something wrong?" he babbles on.

I almost want to cave in when he asks this but I just manage to hold on to my courage. "I was just wondering if you wanted to finish up early and head out for a late lunch with me," I respond, as my destroyed nails consistently tap against the side of my thigh with anxiety.

"Oh, okay. Sure. Let me just finish up," he tells me, quickly shuffling around his office to finish his work for the week and head out with me.

Not too long after we're walking through the entry way of that same cafe I had walked past earlier and being seated where I would utter the words I had dreaded. The usual small talk was exchanged but what was to come after that could only be described as terrible. Not the tears and heartbreak kind of terrible. No, the type of terrible where every fibre of your body is screaming for you to leave before you explode from the awkward tension that has flooded the room. I had only had one other relationship and didn't have an in-person experience so this was all completely new to me.

I explained to him how I didn't believe either of us were truly happy anymore, how it had been a long time since either one of us felt that spark they tell you about in the stories. I told him honestly of how I didn't believe that this was it, that this was all that life and love had to offer and that we both deserved better.

He seemed to agree by the end. They were no tears from either of us, no desperate rebuttals or heartbreak. Just simple "okays". He held my hand the whole time and in the end when I finally got up to leave he held me in his arms one last time before letting go of me once and for all.

As I walked out of that cafe and down the street it felt as though all eyes were planted on me. Yet I shrugged it off and let myself truly appreciate what had just happened. I had just lifted a massive weight off of my shoulders and I was free. Free from my predictions and fears of my future. Free from expectations. Free to live one step at a time. To live unpredictably.

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Thank you all for reading chapter 1 of Unpredictable. Hope you enjoyed it! There have been some suggestions to add another chapter so I can elaborate on the actual break up so please me let me know what you think of that.

*This chapter has been edited*

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TheFictionDreamer

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