Eyes On You

Chapter 3-2

I’ve been staring at the clock for the past hour dreading Aimee’s arrival home.

I did think about calling her at the office, let her know that I screwed things up—but that would only have ruined her day as well. Bad news is bad news. What’s the rush?

The door opens and she walks in, greeting me in the living room, eyes wide with excitement. “Well, how did it go?”

I pick up the remote, pause the movie, and then shake my head.

Her eyes shrink back down as she sits next to me, her hand on my thigh. “Doesn’t matter. There’ll be other interviews.”

“It’s not that. I didn’t make it—my car wouldn’t start.”

“Really? What was wrong with it?”

I shrug. “God knows. Battery maybe?”

“That’s strange,” she says, a hint of suspicion in her voice, “it only had a service last month.”

“I know. And I tried to get a taxi, but they were all booked up, so I ended up running all the way. By the time I got there it was 9:20.”

“Didn’t they still let you do the interview?”

“Yeah, they did,” I reply, “but I messed it up. I was so flustered, so sweaty, so b****y exhausted that none of my words came out right. I just stuttered my way through the entire thing.”

“When will you know if you got it or not?” she asks, stroking my leg gently.

“My boss called me earlier with the bad news.”

Aimee sighs, and then kisses me on the cheek. “Don’t worry about it, Matt. It wasn’t your fault.”

“No?”

“These things happen. Cars break down all the time.”

I shake my head and lean back on the couch. “It’s typical though. It’s always something with me.”

“What are you talking about?” she asks, taking hold of my hand.

“Well, what about our first date?” I reply. “I almost missed that as well.”

“You were late—so what? Everyone loses their car keys. It’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal when it’s something important,” I point out. “What about our so-called trip to Paris? I screwed that up too, didn’t I?”

“Okay, I’ll give you that one. Losing your passport was pretty dumb.”

“It’s like I’m cursed.”

Aimee laughs. “b****y hell, Matt, don’t be so overdramatic. So you screwed up an interview, lost a few keys, spilled wine on a rug—big deal. You’ve still got a job, my parents love you, and more importantly, you’ve still got me. So stop feeling sorry for yourself and start appreciating how great your life is.”

She’s right, I know she is, but I still can’t shake off this feeling of self-loathing.

The room falls silent.

“Look,” Aimee says, breaking the silence, “why don’t we just chill out in front of the TV tonight? I know it sucks missing out on a new job, but like I said before, there’ll be other interviews, other jobs.” She kisses me on the lips. “So don’t worry so much.”

I manage a smile and then give her a hug. “Thanks.”