Page 26 of Beautifully Complicated

Still, I’ve been back to that pub on two separate trips, on the off chance I’d run into him again, which of course didn’t happen.

I wish I could explain how that one night affected me so profoundly. All I know is not a day goes by that I don’t think of Aiden. Triggers are everywhere. Football. Movies. Whiskey. Even couples, the affection between them a reminder of the time we shared.

Yes, I’m being irrational. I just can’t shake this feeling that I’m supposed to have more than one night with Aiden, so I keep trying to force another.

Unfortunately, looking for him isn’t even the most pathetic thing I’ve done since that night. That honor belongs to what I’m doing right now, taking a position as a guest professor at Front Range University because it puts me in the same state where I last saw him.

That sounds a little stalkerish, although it’s really not like that. I didn’t search out this job—my dignity is depleted, but it’s not gone—so I didn’t go looking for an excuse to temporarily relocate. I did, however, take the position specifically because of the location, even though I’ll be teaching classes well below my capabilities since I’m merely the substitute.

I think the school was just as shocked I accepted the position as I was, but timing is everything, right? And their timing, plus their location just an hour outside Denver, couldn’t be more perfect.

I’d have preferred to be in Denver proper since that’s where Aiden and I met, but this is the closest I could find a job with the resources to continue my research. Since I only need to lead a couple classes in exchange for having access to the facility, it seems like a win, win. The university fills a vacancy for a professor on sabbatical, and I get to work from a place that will make my search for Aiden easier.

“You’ve probably got an email with the name and contact information of your assistants so you can coordinate when to meet them,” Daniel answers the question I’d already forgotten I asked.

I really need to do a better job of staying in the moment.

“Do you need help getting online or onto the school portal?” he asks.

“I’ve probably got those instructions in here somewhere.” I hold up the folder given to me by our department head.

“Let me give you my cell, just in case. You can ping me if you have any questions.”

I hand over my phone so Daniel can add his contact information, and before he hands it back, I hear the soft ding of a notification. He fishes his phone from his pocket and looks at the screen with a nervous smile. “Now I’ll know who you are.”

It makes sense that he’d text himself to capture my contact information, but something about his anxious expression leaves me wondering if his intentions are purely professional.

Please let me be misreading things. I have zero patience for anything but work and torturing myself over Aiden.

Forcing a tight smile to my face I thank Daniel again and tell him I’ll reach out with any questions, then I sink into my office chair, prop my elbows on the desk, and bury my hands in my hair.

I’m a thirty-two-year-old workaholic pining for a man ten years my junior who I’ve somehow convinced myself I need in my life despite not even knowing his full name. Who am I, and what have I done with my mind? It’s supposed to be genius level for God’s sake. I need to get a grip.

It’s unlikely I’ll find Aiden just because I’m in the same state where we met. In fact, it should be statistically impossible. Given the number of people who live here, and the fact Aiden might not even be one of them, I’m probably spinning my wheels for nothing.

Not probably. Definitely. I’m definitely on a fool’s errand and definitely driving myself crazy. Iknowthat. So, why can’t I stop?

This is so unlike me. So foreign. Not just the fact that I’m chasing something outside of work, but the fact that something is asomeonewho’s barely an adult.

Leaning back to rest my head against the top of the chair, I take in the room around me. It’s as empty as my chest feels. Nothing adorning the walls. No personalization whatsoever. A hollow shell.

I used to think work was all I needed to feel fulfilled, and for years that was true. The advancements I helped make… The accolades I received... The lives I changed... My lack of a personal life didn’t bother me since I couldseethat I was making a difference. Yet after one night with Aiden I suddenly miss what I never realized I wanted.

A life outside work.

Someone to laugh with. To touch. To love.

Could I really love him after just one night? The notion seems far-fetched even for my admittedly obsessed mind. Yet I don’t have a better word for it.

That night with Aiden was like putting color on these bare walls. Movie posters and quotes and sports memorabilia… all manner oflifethat I’d deemed inconsequential until he made me remember it. And all those things pale in comparison to the colorhemade me feel.

What am I doing?

Is this what a mid-life crisis feels like? Could I be discombobulated because I’m aging, not lovesick? Pining for someone ten years my junior certainly falls into the crisis category, as does surrounding myself with people his age, like I’m trying to reclaim my youth.

Logically, that would make sense. Hormones can do some freaky shit, and if mine are out of balance, it would explain why I’m acting so irrationally.

Did I uproot my life because my body is out of whack?

---