Wanderlust (16 page)

Monica

Somehow, I scrambled out of the cab, up the stairs and through the door of Stephen’s apartment before bursting into tears. The lights were out, and I assumed that Stephen was asleep, so I tried to sob quietly, but I didn’t do a good job. I turned on the side table lamp and got ready for bed as quietly as I could, snuffling and grabbing at tissues as I unfolded the convertible couch and pulled on my pajamas.

Still sobbing quietly, I put the kettle on for some tea. Just as I was tiptoeing back into the living room, the front door opened. Startled, I screamed. That startled Stephen, who shouted right back at me. Despite everything, I laughed.

“What the hell? I thought you were already asleep!” I hiccupped hysterically.

Stephen took one look at my face. “Oh, honey, what happened?” He came over and wrapped me in his arms.

I started to cry again and sank down onto the pulled-out couch. Stephen sat down with me. “I’m still in love with him. I’ve done everything I could to make sure we didn’t get romantic again and it didn’t work. I’m still crazy about him, and I’m going to leave in a couple of weeks, and it’s going to happen all over again, and he still hasn’t apologized for Amber.” I took a deep, shaky breath.

Stephen shook his head. “It doesn’t have to happen all over again. You’re in control this time. You can decide what happens next.”

Even in my semi-hysterical state, it didn’t escape me that Stephen was wearing his best cashmere sweater and smelled even more expensive than usual. “You were out with Patrick, weren’t you?” I asked.

Stephen nodded sheepishly.

“You idiot,” I mumbled.

He nodded in agreement. “Looks like we both have a things for old flames,” he answered.

The electric kettle started to sing. “I’ll get it,” he said. “That orange hibiscus stuff?”

“Yes, please.” The crying had stopped and a feeling of numb emptiness was taking over.

“So what exactly happened to set you off?” came Stephen’s voice from the kitchen.

I hesitated. “Remember I told you about that girl he tried to have a threesome with?”

Stephen nodded.

“Well, she showed up to this thing tonight.”

Stephen had just opened a cupboard and his head swung back around it in a comical double take. “No!”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak for a moment.

“Well, what happened?”

“I met Jason there. He was with one of his fraternity buddies, nice guy named Chip. And the three of us were standing around and Amber shows up. And of course, she comes straight over to us, and she’s still gorgeous and she’s got this amazing job, and she’s totally flirting with Jason and he’s just eating it up.” I stopped myself, realizing how jealous and petty I sounded. Jason, to be fair, had looked like he was more likely to toss his cookies than eat out of Amber’s hand.

“So what exactly happened to set you off?” asked Stephen from the kitchen.

“Nothing really. We were all just talking, and all these feelings started coming up again. I thought it was just nostalgia with some lust thrown in, but it’s more than that.”

“Nostalgia and lust are plenty, trust me,” said Stephen drily.

I tilted over until I was leaning my head against the arm of the couch. “I really, really like him. He’s all the good parts I remember from college, but now he’s mature and thoughtful. And he’s been really encouraging about my crazy business and really helpful. I think I’m in love with him. I’m not sure if I was ever out of love with him.” I sniffed again, and a lone tear made its way down my cheek.

“Did you get the chance to tell him you’re not really engaged?”

I shook my head. “No. I’d asked him to go somewhere private with me after so we could chat, and then this whole stupid thing with Amber happened, and I lost it and left and came home.”

“Call him. Call him right now and explain everything.”

I shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what to say to him,” I mumbled, knowing I sounded childish.

Stephen put the tea down on the side table next to me. “This has gone on long enough. You need to get this off your chest now. Call him up and ask him to come over.”

“I don’t want to keep you awake.”

He looked sheepish. “I won’t be here.”

I looked at him in confusion, and then in dawning realization.

“I only actually came by to pick up a few things,” Stephen elaborated. “He’s waiting. I really should go.”

I shook my head at him. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

He was silent for a long moment, then slowly, he smiled. “No. I have no idea what I’m doing. But I know that if I don’t do it, I’ll regret it more than if I do. You know what that feels like, right?”

He squeezed my hand, got up and went into his bedroom, and swiftly packed an overnight bag. He gave me a firm hug on his way out the door. “There’s a lot to be said for protecting yourself, but sometimes you just have to take a chance, you know?”

I nodded. “I know.”

“Call him,” he whispered. “No matter what happens, don’t go to bed tonight until he knows you’re single.”

He shut the door firmly behind him, and I was alone again.

I pulled out my phone to find that Jason had left two voice mail messages and sent three texts, all asking if I was all right. I sat on the bed, staring at my phone for ages, then finally hit
call
.

“Monica? Are you okay?” Jason’s voice sounded frantic.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I took a deep breath. “I still need to talk to you. Can you come over?”

“Of course I will. Is that okay with Stephen?”

“He’s not here. And he wouldn’t mind even if he was. I really need to see you. I’ve just made such a mess of things.” My voice cracked and I stopped to take a deep breath, praying I wouldn’t collapse into tears again.

“I’ll be there as fast as I can, I promise.” Jason sounded increasingly anxious. “I was, uh, actually on my way over there to see if you were all right. Do you want me to stay on the phone until I get there?”

I managed a shaky laugh. “No, I’m upset, but I’m not crazy. Don’t worry. I’ll see you soon. Thank you.”

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes later that the front buzzer went off. I buzzed him in.

“You shouldn’t have buzzed me in without making sure it was really me,” he scolded me. “Are you okay? Have you been crying?”

Despite everything, I laughed. “Who else would it have been? And I’m sort of okay, and yes, I’ve been crying. We need to talk. Can I get you something to drink? There’s herb tea, beer, single malt—”

“I don’t need anything to drink! What happened? Did Stephen do something?” He stepped forward, looking like he wanted to hug me, but wasn’t sure if he should.

“What? No. He’s off with Patrick. Have a seat. I’ll explain.” I waved him into a leather armchair and sat down on the edge of the pull-out couch, twisting that stupid ring absentmindedly. I saw him eyeing the pull-out couch, questions in his eyes. “Okay, first things first. Stephen is gay.”

He actually didn’t look as surprised by this as I’d thought he would but he looked at me with enormous sympathy. “I’m so sorry. This must be an awful shock.”

“No, it’s fine,” I said impatiently. “I’ve always known he was gay. We’re not really engaged.” I paused. “We never were.”

He stared at me for a long moment as the words sank in. “Wait, never? Amber said you weren’t engaged, but I thought …” There was a long pause. “Could I maybe take that single malt after all?” he finally asked.

I smiled and got up to get him a drink.

“Okay,” he said, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. “You’re not engaged, and he’s not straight anyway.”

I nodded.

“And you’ve known all along that he was gay?”

“Mm hmm.” I nodded again.

“So you were
never
engaged.”

I shook my head.

He leaned back in the armchair and ran a hand through his hair. “God, Monica, I never thought … I feel like a weight’s been lifted. I was so worried about you. I just knew Stephen wasn’t the right guy for you. I kept thinking I was just being jealous, but I knew there wasn’t any chemistry between you guys. I just couldn’t imagine why you were marrying him. But why did you pretend you were?”

You were jealous?
I wanted to say, but didn’t. I could feel my cheeks starting to heat up. I took a deep, shaky breath and started. “The morning I ran into you in the coffee shop, I looked you up on the internet and found your engagement notice. So I figured you were engaged, or maybe even married by now. And since you already thought I was engaged, I decided to just go with it. I don’t know why, exactly.” This was even harder than I’d thought it would be. “I guess I was jealous, too.”

Jason

She was jealous, too?

“Why did you keep it up even after you found out I was single?” I was still trying to catch up with the conversation.

Her face flushed. “Because I’d just finished telling you all about my amazing fiancé when you told me you and Meghan had broken up. I was too embarrassed to backtrack at that point.”

“So why not tell me later? I mean, you’ve kept this up for a while now.” I didn’t have any right to sound like I was accusing her of anything, but I was having a hard time keeping my tone neutral.

“Look,” she said, “I’m still attracted to you. But honestly, I never really got over what happened in college. I guess I’m still hanging on to some … I don’t know, resentment, I guess. Confusion? And I knew if I hung out with you I’d just fall for you all over again, and I just didn’t …” She trailed off awkwardly.

I put my glass down and reached over to take her hands in mine. “You didn’t trust me. Which I totally understand. Monica,” I said, “there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time.” I paused and swallowed. “I don’t know if you ever wondered about it, you probably don’t even care.” I looked down at the table nervously and took a deep breath. “That night with Amber—” I began.

Her head snapped up and she gave me an anxious look. I swallowed and went on.

“That night with Amber … I’m really sorry for what I put you through. I was a total asshole, and I’ve always felt bad about it. I shouldn’t have set it up in the first place, and I shouldn’t have let you walk home by yourself, and I was just beyond being a jerk. And I am so, so sorry.”

There was a long silence. I forced myself to look her in the face, and could tell she was blinking back tears. I felt a stab of pain at what I’d put her through, but also a sense of relief that we were finally getting it out into the open.

“Why?” she managed.

But I couldn’t say anything more. I looked down at my drink, as if it would give me an answer. “I guess I was hurt that you were going to France. I felt like you didn’t love me as much as I loved you, otherwise you wouldn’t have been leaving me for such a long time. The summer after freshman year, when I only got to see you for a week—I thought it was going to kill me, I missed you so much. And a whole year—maybe I just went a little crazy. Amber was, God, I don’t know if I was trying to make you prove you loved me, or prove that I didn’t need you as much as I really did. Or maybe it was just revenge. I wanted to hurt you because you were hurting me. It was so stupid.” I put the glass on the side table and put my head in my hands. “It was awful of me to try to pressure you into doing something like that, and I’m so sorry.”

I looked up at her again. “I don’t know if you even care, but I never slept with her. I never wanted her. I only ever wanted you. Please, believe me.” I paused to take a breath. “And I’m sorry.”

“I know.” She managed a smile. “She told me.”

“Amber told you?”

She nodded. “She cornered me in the ladies room tonight, and told me that you guys never, um, hooked up. But thank you. I appreciate the apology. I needed to hear it.”

We sat there for a while in silence, sipping at our drinks. Two huge weights had been lifted: I’d finally apologized for Amber, and I’d found out Monica wasn’t making a huge mistake in marrying Stephen. But now it felt like there was a vacuum between us that needed to be filled.

I glanced at her, trying to get a sense of what she was thinking.

She looked back at me.

I cleared my throat. “Monica, I still really like you. The time we’ve spent together over the past couple of weeks—you’re even more amazing than I remembered. Do you think we could give it another shot?”

She looked away and my heart began to sink. “I don’t think it would work out,” she said, her voice hoarse.

I managed a wry smile. “Is there any way I could convince you that I’m a reformed character now, maybe—”

She sighed. “It’s not that.” She was silent for a moment, her eyes closed. “It’s just that I’m afraid the whole thing is going to happen all over again. I’m going back on the road in a couple of weeks. I have a contract to write some chapters for a series of travel books. I leave for Bangkok on Valentine’s Day.”

Of course. She’d said as much at the bar, but I’d been too confused to really take it in. As my heart sank, I felt it again: the same old feeling of helplessness, of drowning. I felt like the air had been cut off, like I couldn’t breathe. For a brief moment there, when she said she wasn’t really engaged, I’d felt a crazy surge of hope. A vision of a life with her had flashed across my mind, only to be replaced with a sudden sense of emptiness.

Of course she was leaving. She wasn’t engaged, so what reason would she have to stay in Chicago?

“When are you coming back?” I asked, grasping at straws. She looked adorable in her pajamas and her fluffy robe, but her eyes were pink and swollen. I wanted to take her in my arms and hold her and kiss until she was smiling again, but forced myself to stay in the armchair.

She shook her head. “I wasn’t really planning on coming back. Not to Chicago. I’ll probably be gone for at least six months, and when I come back, I usually either visit my parents, or just find a friend somewhere who will put me up for a few weeks. I think there’s a good chance Stephen won’t have room for me the next time I’m here.”

“Damn. I’d really like … I mean, I know we haven’t … Maybe you could put your trip off. Did you already pay for the tickets?”

She shook her head. “The publisher is paying for the flight. It’s part of the compensation. I have to go.”

“Okay, then.” I thought quickly. “Six months isn’t that long. And you could stay with me when you come back.”

She smiled sadly at me. “It’s still the same problem, though. Your career is here. You’re so excited about your job and that’s great. But I’m not really planning on settling down anytime soon, and honestly, if I were, it wouldn’t be here—it’s way too cold. I’ve been trying to make myself like Chicago, but I just haven’t been able to.”

“You know, I don’t like Chicago either,” I told her.

She laughed. “Well, if you can swing a few weeks’ vacation, maybe you could come and visit. Thailand’s nice and warm.”

I took a deep breath and a big swig of whiskey. “No,” I said. “I don’t want to visit.”

She looked a little hurt at my bluntness.

I went on quickly. “I mean, I
really
hate Chicago. I hate my job. I’m ready to get the hell out of here anyway. I’ve just been hanging on because I’ve been too chickenshit to quit and do something I really want.”

She blinked and looked anxious. “What are you talking about? You have this great job for this big-deal company. Are you just saying this? I don’t want you doing anything drastic on my account.”

“No. It’s already done.” I sighed, feeling like an idiot for having put myself in this position. “Look, I’ve been playing up how great my job is because I was jealous. I saw you with this rich, successful guy, and I thought that was what you wanted. Hell, maybe it
is
what you want. But really, I was overdue to be fired. My boss hated me almost as much as I hated him. I’ve been hanging on, hoping I’d be able to get unemployment benefits and when I did, I was going to start working freelance. But I can do that from anywhere. I handed in my notice on Thursday.”

Now it was her turn to sit quietly, absorbing this information. “Okay,” she said. She looked at me cautiously. “Okay, then. So where does this leave us?”

I moved across the room and sat down on the bed next to her. “I know we have a lot of catching up to do, and I know this is a weird place to start, but I’ve never been able to get you out of my mind. Ten years ago, I begged you to stay with me because I couldn’t imagine a life without you.” I swallowed, trying to keep my voice steady. “Now, I’m going to beg you to let me come with you, because I still can’t.”