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“Thanks, babe. Listen, we just picked up Dom. I love you. Everything is gonna be okay,” he says, reassuring me.
“I know, love you too. Call me later. I don’t care what time it is, okay?” I respond.
“You got it. Bye, soon-to-be Mrs. DeLorenzo,” he says in a playful tone. His words sting like a motherfucker—I’ll never be Mrs. DeLorenzo.
When my shift ends, I hail a cab to take me home because it’s pouring rain. After giving the cabbie my address, I stick my hand inside my pockabook in search of my phone to call my best friend, Luci. Luci is that friend we all have, the one we all need, the one that calls you out on your bullshit when you most need it.
We have been friends most of our lives. I remember when she started the school year in the middle of third grade. The desk next to mine was empty, and Ms. Stewart assigned her that seat. The desk fascinated Luci because the top lifted, and she could put her things inside of it. I said hello to her, and when she spoke, she had a thick accent. I later learned she had moved here from Italy with her family. Talking to her now, you’d never know she didn’t speak a lick of English when she moved here. We’ve been best friends ever since.
She answers my call on the third ring. “What up, bitch?”
“I’m in a cab headed home, just finished my shift. Are you still coming over later?”
“Sorry, Lena, I can’t. I’m actually driving into the city right now because I picked up a shift.”
“Standing me up, huh?”
“Don’t be mad. We can hang out another night.” Little does she know that won’t be happening. I’m going to miss Luci so much. Since we’ve been friends, we’ve seen each other nearly every day of our lives. She’s going to be so upset when she finds out I ghosted, but keeping her out of the loop is the best decision for her.
“It’s fine. I was looking forward to hanging out with you, sharing a bottle of wine, but no biggie.” The lies keep coming, and I’m surprised how easy the words spill from my mouth. Maybe it’s better this way. Who knows? She probably would’ve known something was up with me and foiled my plans.
“Smooch you,” she says.
“Smooch you back.” I hit End and toss the phone back in my purse. Back when we were in college, Luci and I were at a party, both a little buzzed, and instead of saying “love you,” she said “smooch you.” It stuck.
Once inside our apartment, I stop and take in the view of the place. We live in an amazing two-bedroom apartment on beautiful Marlborough Street in the Back Bay. Its exposed brick and open space are what I fell in love with the minute I saw it. As a young girl, I always wanted to live in one of these buildings. Now here I am, living in my dream apartment with the man I love, and I am walking away. I am gonna miss it. Miss him.
After removing my boots, I stride across the room and sit on the couch, giving myself a few minutes to take in the magnitude of what I’m about to do. I’m overwhelmed by sadness, yet I know it has to be done. I’m leaving behind everything and everyone, and it causes the tears to flow. Deep sobs fall from me as I lay my head back on the couch, my feelings inundating me.
When I wake up, it’s dark. I lift my head and rub my eyes. The grogginess of my unexpected nap is heavy, and it takes me a couple of minutes to snap out of it. I rise from the couch and shuffle across the room to turn the light on, the sudden light too bright for my still sleepy eyes. It’s almost 8:00 p.m. I haven’t heard from Massimo yet, which means he’ll probably call me soon.
After I finish eating the sandwich I prepared, I grab my suitcases out of the second bedroom closet, rolling them into our bedroom to lay them open on the floor. I spend the next few hours filling them with my clothes, shoes, jackets, and my favorite blanket and pillow—my life in three suitcases full of stuff—what a sad sight. I lose my balance and need to steady myself with the wall, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. This is all way harder than I’d imagined when concocting the plan.
I’m in the bathroom brushing my teeth when my phone rings. Not wanting to miss the call, I scurry into the bedroom to grab the phone off my nightstand. Massimo’s name flashes across the screen. “Hello, hang on,” I say, slightly muffled because I’m brushing my teeth. I rush back to the bathroom to avoid toothpaste falling from my mouth. Once at the sink, I put the phone down to rinse quickly.
“Sorry, was brushing my teeth. How was the drive?” I ask as I turn the bathroom light off and pad over to our bed.
As I pull back the sheets and climb into bed, Massimo tells me about the drive and their plans for the weekend. I lie on my left side, moving the phone to my right ear, and hug Massimo’s pillow, inhaling his scent as I listen to his voice. “I miss you,” I interrupt him mid-sentence.
“Me too,” he responds.
We chat for a little while when I hear one of his buddies say, “Hey, let’s go. The casino is waiting for us.”
“Hey, babe, we’re going down to the casino. Get some sleep, okay?”
“Okay, be safe. Good night,” I say, tears sliding down my cheeks. “Love you,” I mutter, squeezing my eyes shut.
“Love you more,” he responds, and the line goes quiet.
That’s the last time I would hear his voice for nine years.
CHAPTER 2
Still Interested?
MARIALENA
October 2000
