Spring day, fallout.

I think you can guess what happened with my phone call to Alex. After the webinar was over, and I had brushed all the ice cream off my teeth (what was I thinking -- ice cream? The week I go dress shopping?), I couldn't find Alex's number anywhere. Not in any of the usual places -- I checked my various inboxes and Facebook, I checked Julian's Facebook, I looked in my phone. I looked him up online -- unlisted (of course). By this point it was nearly 2am and my body was begging me to just get between the sheets, even though my mind was whirring with everything I wanted to say to Alex. Get out of my life. Leave me alone. Stop harassing me. What exactly is your problem with me? What are you telling my fiance about me? What lies are you making up? My body had had enough though, and I gave in to the idea of bed, since I needed to be up at 7:30.

The sky was ominously gray this morning, and there was more of a wind than usual -- I don't know why, but it just creeped me out. I dragged myself through the routine of getting up -- shower (no time to wash hair, so I put a little dry shampoo in it, love the stuff, then curled it a little at the ends), a half-assed attempted at professional dress (wrinkled turquoise pencil skirt that I love, slightly dingy white twin set, must remember to go to cleaners), Slim Fast (penance for ice cream). I drove my gorgeous new car to work -- it's a shame that I have such a crap parking space in the employee lot, since no one really gets to see it, and it's so much nicer than even my line manager's Prius. And here I have stayed since 9am. It's after midnight. Who could it be? Oh, the Dutch? Yes, you're right. Marijke, the Queen Bitch I wrote about before, has decided that only Melissa can be trusted to go over the presentations. Only Melissa should be in charge of making sure that every last Powerpoint slide is perfect. John, my boss, said I should be honored, since I am relatively new to this industry and Marijke is an important client. At this point, I really don't care. I just want to sleep.

Julian called me around 10am my time. He'd read my post and told me not to worry too much about Alex, that his post was just a way of "winding me up." "I'm not a fucking wind-up toy, Julian!" I shouted, a little too loud since Dana in the cubicle next to mine actually put her finger up to her mouth in the universal symbol for "shhhh!" Julian told me that yes, there was a lot on his mind right now, mostly to do with his company. Well, his family's company. Julian's a director, and even though he's only 25 he is apparently really good at it! The chairman (another one who stared down my top at a drinks evening) told me, "Don't tell Julian -- it will go straight to his head -- but he's got more business nous than his father did at his age. We're in good hands with this next generation." I was so proud of J. Anyway, the company is doing a tricky acquisition right now and that's what the meeting was about. They were closing the deal that day, a day earlier than expected, and they were all about to go out to have celebratory drinks. He wanted to call me before he had one too many.

He did ask me much more pointed questions about Sean though. Did I realize how it looks to him for HIS fiance to go pick up her ex-boyfriend and "so-called best friend" (his words) in an expensive automobile bought for her with HIS money to go and spend exactly the sort of day HE wanted to spend with her but couldn't because HE is too busy making enough money for THEIR future? I said I hadn't thought of it at all that way. He knows Sean is like a brother to me, and would never do anything to make me unhappy or feel compromised. And that if anything J should be happy I have Sean to look after my safety -- he's 6'2" after all and as an ex-soccer player ("football," Julian grumbled at me, "it's bloody well not soccer") he can protect me from any harm. And anyway, it's not like I'm in love with Sean like I am with Julian -- I just love him. Can't he tell the difference? If I wanted to be with Sean, I would be -- it's not like I hadn't had a million chances to get back together with him since we broke up.

I don't know what I said that made Julian furious with me, but apparently I touched a raw nerve.

J: Melissa, listen to me. Listen very, very carefully. Can you do that?

M: Yes, Julian.

J: I mean it, Melissa. Listen to me. Focus. Pay attention. I don't have a lot of time here -- I'm supposed to be going to the Dorchester in 15 minutes for the deal party.

M: Yes, Julian.

J: Do you, or do you not, understand that you are compromising your promise to me -- to be my bride -- when you take your man-child hulk of an ex-boyfriend out on a romantic date?

M: It wasn't a date! It was just a picnic and a drive up the coast. What if it had been Jenn? Or Jen?

J: But it wasn't, Melissa. It was someone else now, wasn't it? Someone who I have seen on more than one occasion looking at you like he was a starving man and you were a roast turkey.

M: That's ridiculous! He's my best friend!

J: You may think he's your best friend Melissa, but trust me, he is marking his time and trying to wear you down. I will not be cuckolded by that... that thing.

M: Julian, you can't stop me from seeing my best friend!

J: Oh, you're right. I can't. But if you want to take a moment and think about what you might be throwing away so you can have another little "picnic", you might reconsider. I have to go now. I will try to call you in the morning, but depending on how this evening goes, I may want to take the morning off tomorrow. You may of course text me good night.

M: Oh honey. I'm so sorry, I'm an idiot --

J: Have to go Melissa. Think about this. I love you, more than you must realize if you're willing to do this to me. I am giving up my entire life to join you in that cultural wasteland. Respect me, Melissa, like I respect you. I love you.

And he didn't call, hasn't called back. I'm still at work and I would give Sean up forever if he would just call me right now. I've had all day to think about this and I still don't know what to do. And I still can't find Alex's number.