The Choice Not Taken by Jodi LaPalm Page B

well-tailored suits gave no such impression.
     
    “Not really,” he confessed. “More of a hippie wanna-be. But I did live in a teepee for three months!”
     
    He smiled, and his already handsome face shed years while those dark eyes mischievously lit up. Yet behind it all, I detected hurt. The wounds were all-too familiar and out of sheer empathy, I wanted to know what created it for him .
     
    “Marnie tells me you own the company,” I boldly stated, lifting my cup lid to add two entire sugar packets.
     
    “I do,” he admitted solemnly. “Although sometimes I’d rather be an employee.”
     
    “Really?”
     
    “There’s great freedom and possibility for success when you take charge of your career,” he recognized. “But with it comes immense stress and the potential to lose everything if you take it too seriously.” He patiently blew the steam from his coffee before adding, “or not seriously enough.”
     
    “I think it would be challenging to manage so much,” I agreed. “But from what I see, it looks like your business is thriving.”
     
    “Oh, it is. It is. But that didn’t happen overnight. I’ve been working to build this company for twenty years. Only in the last ten has it really paid off in industry recognition and substantial profits. Before that, it was unknown...and pulling me into debt.”
     
    “So what made it work?” Lifting my cup, I realized it was almost empty and wished I’d purchased a larger size.
     
    “Sacrifice. By me, my wife, and my kids.” And in that moment the pain in the back of his eyes came forward and took over.
     
    “How do you mean?” For an unknown reason, I became disappointed at the mention of a spouse. Of course, I knew she must exist if he had a daughter. And even though I wasn’t seeking a serious relationship with this man, the idea of him being unavailable somehow troubled me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be asking you such things,” I quickly apologized.
     
    “It’s okay,” he replied, staring into my eyes with a strange mix of recognition and something else...apprehension. “Our marriage is struggling. In fact, we’re recently separated and quite possibly headed to divorce court.” He sighed. “It seems that though my wife and I shared a goal in wanting this company to succeed and be financially independent, we held different ideas of how that should happen. You see, she wanted the things money and status could bring but didn’t actually want me to travel, work, and be gone to do it. When we had our kids, she began to resent the time I committed at the office to build the business.” He gulped his coffee before adding, “And over those many years, I began to mutually resent her for a host of other reasons.”
     
    “You no longer live together?” I pried.
     
    “No. She’s living in our house here in town while I stay at our cottage over on Mirror Lake. We’re civil and kind because of the kids; they stay with me whenever there are days off school and on weekends. Which reminds me, I need to go. My daughter will be waiting for me, and with her in charge of her brother there could be a major brawl happening, and I wouldn’t even know it.”
     
    “Of course. I need to be going, too. Um, Philip, it was really nice chatting with you. Oh, and thanks for the coffee,” I offered with appreciation.
     
    “My pleasure. You saved me from hours of indecisive torture in that store as far as I’m concerned. A cup of coffee isn’t near enough payment.” He grabbed my hand to shake it.
     
    Initially recoiling, I hastily offered my own hand with the hope he didn’t notice. When my clammy skin touched his warm, soft palm, I cringed and did my best to hide any discomfort.
     
    “Courtney,” he looked to me with timid eyes. “I know this may seem inappropriate so if you say no I’d completely understand. But, I really enjoyed talking with you and wonder if maybe...would you like to meet up again sometime? For