You'll Find Me in Manhattan Page 10

  “I honestly don’t know,” he uttered.

  He sat down in the seat next to mine, still holding my hand but breaking eye contact. We both sat in silence, digesting what we had just said to each other. Silently assessing the damage.

  “We’ve been together for months,” was all I could muster up. “This is me, I have no tricks up my sleeve.” I knew I looked desperate, but I was in need of an explanation.

  “I know,” he nodded. “I’m just not ready. I don’t know, Amalia. There’s just so much to consider. Finishing this program, for starters, getting into a doctoral program. I don’t even know where I am going to be next year.”

  “Wait,” I said, getting a little bit more of my strength back. “I thought you wanted to stay in New York. Are you applying to schools in other states too?”

  “I’m considering it,” he admitted, a grimace taking hold of his face

  “What about your apartment?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Would you get rid of it? Sublet it?”

  “I have no idea,” he let go of my hand and sat back in the wooden chair. Our classroom was the size of an auditorium, I felt the space was fitting for this conversation. “These are all of the things on my mind right now. I feel incredibly overwhelmed.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Anything I could think of just seemed to push him further away.

  “If I stay with you, we might easily break up from the distance between us,” he shook his head.

  “Michael, we could break up for a number of reasons. But that’s not what I want,” I put my hand to my chest. “I want us to be together. I want us to be in a relationship. We’ll deal with all of the other stuff when it comes up.”

  He looked at me and offered me a weak smile. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He touched my cheek, and I immediately leaned into it.

  “Then don’t,” I pleaded, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “Please, just give us a fair shot. It’s been years of this and I’m exhausted.” I reached for his hand. “You don’t have to be in love with me yet. But I don’t know if I can continue down this path anymore without any kind of commitment. It’s not fair to me.”

  “You’re right,” he said weakly, “It’s not.”

  “Do you remember at Olivia and Alex’s engagement party when you told me I had to make a choice?”

  “I do,” he whispered.

  “Well, I can’t believe I’m saying this,” I started. “But you need to choose, Michael. Because I’m going to be honest with you, I fell apart when I saw you talking to Angela on Halloween.”

  “Why?” he raised an eyebrow.

  “Because I have no idea whether or not you’re sleeping with other people,” I put up a hand before he could say anything. “And, honestly, I don’t want to know. But I can’t do it anymore. I am sick with anxiety.” I over-enunciated the last three words, really trying to drive my point home.

  “I had no idea you were feeling this way,” he said. “I don’t want to see you in pain.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair, thinking of the best way to say this.

  “Look, you know how I feel about you,” I shook my head. “You’ve always known.”

  He remained silent, softly stroking his index finger along my wrist. “I guess I have.”

  “And I know you have to think about it,” I gently pulled my hand away from his. “Let’s just both take some time, concentrate on Thanksgiving and preparing for our final exams. When that’s all over, we should sit down and talk again.”

  I wanted him to tell me that he didn’t need time to think. That he hadn’t slept with anyone except me for as long as we’d been dating. I wanted more than anything for him to just be with me.

  Honestly, how hard is it to just be with someone?

  But he didn’t say any of those things. Instead he bit his lip and nodded. I swear in that moment, I could hear my heart breaking.

  “I think that’s a good idea, Amalia.”

  “Okay, then,” I gathered all of my strength and stood up. “I should go.”

  “We’ll talk soon.”

  “Sure,” I zipped up my jacket and stifled a sob as I turned away from him.

  I opted for the stairs instead of the elevator, wanting to get out of the building as soon as humanly possible. I pushed my way through a crowd of undergrads, disgusted by their energy and enthusiasm. A few seconds later I was outside and felt the oppressively cold wind hit me. Not sure where to go, I stood still and replayed the conversation Michael and I just had over again in my head.

  I felt like my life was falling apart. Cassandra and I weren’t friends anymore and I missed her so much. Hayden was moving away to Florida and I’d probably never see him again. And I knew I should be happy about this, but selfishly, I knew Olivia would most likely drop off the radar as soon as she and Alex got married.

  I had never felt so alone.

  Sixteen – Olivia

  “Pass the mash. Sweetie,” my dad said to me after I scooped out nearly half the bowl for myself.

  “What? I thought this was all mine!” I joked. Alex gave me a warm smile as I handed the serving- sized bowl to him to pass along to my father.

  It was just the three of us that year for Thanksgiving. Alex and I rented a car and drove up to Rhode Island the night before in an attempt to beat the holiday traffic. The sweet scent of freshly baked piecrust carried through the house, along with the savory scent of the turkey my dad had just taken out of the oven.

  “So, Alex,” my dad dabbed his mouth with an ivory-colored cloth napkin. We usually ate with paper plates and Styrofoam cups, but I could tell my dad wanted to make a good impression for Alex’s first visit. “How’s school going for you?”

  Alex swallowed his food and paused for a moment, thinking of how to form his answer. The fact was, Alex’s grades were perfect. The lowest mark he had ever received in a class was an A-. My grades were pretty good too. I expected to get an overall GPA of three point seven. But compared to Alex’s four, I might as well have been getting sent back to kindergarten.

  “School is going very well, sir.” He nodded.

  “Oh, Alex, please don’t call me sir.” My dad laughed and held up his right hand. “You’re going to be my son next year.”

  Alex and I exchanged a glance. “Okay, then,” Alex hesitated before saying, “Dad.”

  My dad paled. “John’s” fine for now.

  We all laughed. The smile on my face was so persistent my cheeks were beginning to hurt. The fire was roaring in the living room, but I could still feel the warmth from twenty feet away. Or maybe that was just the butterflies I got in my stomach whenever I was with Alex. Especially today of all days. We had never spent a holiday together with family, and it was very important to me that he and my father got along.

  “The two of you are too quiet tonight. Come on! How’s the wedding planning coming along?” my dad asked.

  “It’s coming!” I let out a throaty chuckle. I couldn’t wait to be married, but planning the reception was giving me hives. “There’s a lot to be done between planning the wedding, final exams, and applying for doctoral programs. But the wedding is a top priority. Although I don’t even know why I’m planning to go to school for another four years because mom has suggested that after I marry Alex I should just live off his money and do nothing with my life.”

  “Well that certainly sounds like an idea,” my dad said through chewing, “that your crazy mother would have.”

  Alex just rolled his eyes. “She’s welcome to whatever I have or make. But I believe she deserves a life of her own as well.”

  I put my hand on his knee. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I plan on getting into a far better doctoral program than you. Then, if you’re good, I’ll throw a little cash your way every now and then.” I tore off a piece of bread and popped it in my mouth.

  He touched his chin and pretended to ponder on this idea. “Will this be before or after you start paying off your exorbitant pile of student loans?

&nb
sp; I tore off another piece of bread and tossed it at his head.

  “I worked really hard picking out that bread from the grocery story,” my dad joked.

  Alex leant over and kissed my forehead. I pretended to be offended and pulled away, all the while laughing.

  “Back to the wedding. What’s the name of the venue?” my dad leant in closer to the table. I had a mouth full of turkey, so Alex took the floor.

  “It’s called Mondrian,” Alex paused to take a sip of his wine. “It’s a beautiful hotel downtown in SoHo.”

  “Perfect!” my dad lit up. “I’ll be able to stay at that hotel and get maximum time with my daughter on her big day.” He let out a soft sigh. “I can’t believe I’ll be walking you down the aisle in less than a year.”

  Hearing my dad say that nearly brought me to tears. He had always been an amazing father, being there all throughout my childhood, supporting me both emotionally and financially through college. But now I was an adult I no longer expected that kind of assistance. Still, he was always there for me when I needed him. There was something even more special about how he was acting concerning the wedding. Something I was slowly learning was that if you really want to see how people feel about you, have a wedding. Everyone will show their true colors. From the best friend who would drop whatever she was doing to plan you a bridal shower, even in the middle of her own emotional crisis, to the mother who couldn’t be bothered to offer any support, emotionally or financially, but was willing to sabotage it. Even Alex’s father was on his best behavior since he found out his son was getting married. It warmed my heart to hear that the two of them were finally taking steps to repair their relationship.

  “Do you know when your bridal shower is?” my dad asked, breaking me out of a daze.

  I laugh and pushed some sweet potatoes around my plate. “Of course not! It’s meant to be a surprise.” My dad and Alex exchanged a knowing glance. “Wait. Do you know when it is?”

  He and Alex exchanged another glance and Alex began to blush. Still laughing, I turned to Alex and grabbed his hand.

  “Do you know when it is too?” My eyes were wide with anticipation. I hated surprises. I especially hated it when everyone knew the details except me. “Did Amalia contact you?”

  “No,” he said in between laughs. “Why would she tell me when the shower is?”

  “Exactly,” my father chimed in, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Why would Amalia email us asking us what we thought about certain dates? Or wanting to make sure your registry was already set up at Crate and Barrel.”

  I cocked my head to the side and shook my head at them.

  “Right,” Alex waved his hands around. “I mean, it’s not like we are going to show up at the end of it and help with bringing any present home. I’m sure you can manage on the subway all by yourself with arms filled with gifts. I have faith in you, baby.”

  The two of them were downright giddy. I felt my eyes water from laughing so hard.

  “Can you at least tell me what month it’s going to be in?” I pleaded. It was obvious from their rapturous reactions that they knew all about my bridal shower. “Or maybe where it’s going to be? I need to know how to dress!”

  “How about this?” Alex looked at me and then darted his gaze back to my father. Calming down, my dad gave a small nod, smile still fixed to his face.

  “It will most likely be before graduation,” he offered.

  I raised my eyebrows and gaped at him. “That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

  “Afraid so, honey,” my dad said while opening another bottle of wine. “And that’s all you’re going to get from us. So, who wants dessert?”

  “I would love some dessert,” Alex said in a joyful tone. I had honestly never seen him look happier.

  “It is pumpkin pie?” I asked hopefully.

  “With vanilla ice cream,” my dad winked. He stood up from the table and made his way into the kitchen to retrieve the pie. I heard the fire crackling in the next room and closed my eyes for a moment, letting the warmth wash over me.

  “Have I told you today how completely in love with you I am?” I push a stray hair back from Alex’s forehead, his skin feeling remarkable soft to my fingertips.

  “Thank you for the best Thanksgiving I have ever had,” he uttered. He lightly ran his fingers over my cheek, stopping at my chin. Tilting my chin up for a kiss, I felt myself melt, as always.

  “I’ll never get tired of this,” I whispered, as he slowly ended our kiss.

  He took my left hand and helped it up higher. My engagement ring sparkled in the light, causing a tiny rainbow on the white tablecloth.

  “Forever,” he said in a voice so soft, I swear I could have died from happiness right then and there.

  “Forever,” I repeated.

  We sat there for a few more moments, staring intently into each other’s eyes. The rest of the world seemed to disappear. I realized, at that moment, that everything else was out of my hands. Out of my control. What Ph.D. program I got into for next year, or if I got into one at all. At that moment, I felt that I had everything I could ever want sitting right in front of me. Wrapped in a bow and perfectly delivered without a single blemish.

  “You two love birds want more wine?” my dad asked, breaking us out of our trance.

  “I’m fine with the pie,” I smiled.

  I watched my father serve us dessert, suddenly feeling like a little kid again. I couldn’t stop smiling if I’d tried. Smiling at what would become, in time, a peerless memory.

  It was officially the best Thanksgiving ever.

  Seventeen – Amalia

  “What was it that made you decide to apply for graduate school here a NYU?”

  “Excuse me?” The question caught me by surprise, although it really shouldn’t have. It was my third week into therapy and so far all we had talked about was my interest in furthering my career. It was getting to be a bit redundant.

  “What were some of the deciding factors in choosing NYU?” Autumn tapped her pen against a legal pad. “As opposed to choosing any of the other programs you were accepted on?”

  She wore her hair differently today, side-swept into a low ponytail. Her usual pencil skirt was replaced with a pair of black dress pants. Still, she hardly wore any make-up and from where I was sitting, I couldn’t see a single blemish on her porcelain skin. She was the type of girl whose sheer existence could upset you. I bet she felt very powerful in her pseudo-position of authority.

  I look her straight in the eye and let out a long, exasperated sigh. “This was the best school I got into.” It was the truth. I had only applied to a few other schools and, to me, NYU felt like the best choice.

  “What other schools did you apply to?” she coaxed her red hair from one side of her neck to the other.

  “Hunter College, Columbia University, and the New School,” I answered impatiently. Every two minutes or so, I glanced at the clock that hung above her desk. The session still had half an hour left. I rubbed my forehead, trying to fight off a tension headache.

  “So all the programs you applied to were in Manhattan?” she asked, narrowing her dark-green eyes.

  “Yes,” I answered curtly. “I wanted to live in the city. Is there a point to your line of questions?”

  “How do you feel about living in the city now?” Her eyes back on her notepad.

  Clearly there wasn’t.

  “I guess I feel the same way I have been feeling about it for the past two years.”

  “So, then you want to stay in New York?” she pressed on. “You wouldn’t consider applying for Ph.D. programs or looking for jobs in another state?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” I leaned back further into the plush chair. Final exams were a week away and all I could think of was how much time I was wasting here when I could be studying.

  “Can we please talk about something else?” I pleaded.

  “Okay, sure,” She flipped the page on her yellow legal pad and scribb
led down a few notes. Of course I wasn’t privy to any of them. I was surprised at how easily I got her to agree to a change of topic. She flipped to a fresh page while I studied the seams of the withered carpeting beneath my feet. “I’d really like to hear more about your social life.”

  Here we go.

  “What exactly do you want to know?” I asked with a fake smile.

  “I want to know about your friends. How do you feel those relationships are going? And how about your romantic life? Are you dating anyone?”

  I froze for a moment. The urge to brush her off was stronger than ever. But something else took over: the thought that I could actually vent to someone about my problems who wasn’t directly in the middle of it all. Someone who could possibly see the situation for how it really was.

  “Well, Autumn, I hope you have enough pages on your pad there because this story is not short.”

  She nodded, gesturing for me to continue.

  I looked up to the ceiling and continued to stare at it while I unloaded onto her.

  “When I first moved here, I had a best friend named Cassandra and a boyfriend named Nicholas. They were the two closest people in my life and I loved them both dearly. One day, Nick decided he no longer wanted to date me, basically because he was a selfish tool who only cared about things that could further his own career and cared very little about my interests. So he broke up with me a few days after my twenty-third birthday. A little while after that, I started hooking up with a close friend of mine, Michael. He was also a classmate and involved with another girl who lived in Arizona. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to sleep with me. And even worse, it didn’t stop me from sleeping with him. So that went on for a few months until I broke it off. I wanted more, and I knew he wasn’t ready to leave his girlfriend. Flip to a couple of months later and Nicholas decided he would try to get back together with me. Which would have been great except at that point he had already turned into a pretentious douche bag. Still, I had loved him once. I thought maybe I could love him again. So we tried to move forward, but I broke it off a couple of months later. I couldn’t stand the person he had become. Then in May of my twenty-third year on this planet, Michael showed up at my apartment, flowers in hand, the day before I was meant to leave for Brazil, a trip I had been planning all year. He asked me not to go on my trip, to stay and spend the summer with him while we “figured out” what was really between us. Basically he had broken up with his girlfriend, but things still would have been the same. No real relationship, no real commitment.” I shrugged and glanced back to Autumn. “Shall I continue?”