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He takes a deep breath, and I can see him try to pull the fragmented, drunk segments of his mind back together. “Yeah. Yeah... You’re right.”
“Leave now. Please.”
He heads to the front door. But he pauses, with his hand on it. “I’m sorry,” he says.
I know he means it, but not enoughfor it to matter. “Goodbye,” I say.
And I mean that enough for the both of us.
The door locks behind him, and I stay put, watching as he ambles away from my building. He gets in a cab, and it drives off, taking my past away. I had never needed him to fit into this city. It’s my home, and I’ve made it mine, all by myself. My relationship with New York is stronger than my marriage ever was.
Isaac had been wrong about one thing. I’m not still in love with Percy. The love had dried up when I saw through the illusion, when that Peter Pan charm of his faded and I found only immaturity and casual cruelty in its place.
But Isaac had had a point, all the same. Because it was Percy’s shadow that lurked too large in my mind. It was him, and how he hurt me, and the fear of being hurt once again. And it was myself. I had lostme,somewhere over the past couple of years, and I’ve just started finding her again. And I know now that I’ll never give her up.
But Isaac isn’t Percy.
Isaac isn’t Percy.
And I’m not who I’d been a year ago, either. Like the cab heading up Manhattan, speeding back to a place I’d once called home, it’s possible to let go of the past. To let it fade into a memory, nothing more, and be brave enough to create a new future.
29
SOPHIA
The city’s a tad too cold for walking in bare legs. The nip in the air is almost painful, but it’s energizing too, cooling me down from the tennis lesson I’ve just had with Marisol. The muscles in my right arm are sore and the arm hangs heavy at my side.
For a delightful hour and a half, the rest of life had faded away, and it was just me and sweat and the thrill of improvement. I take a few deep breaths, inhaling the fall air. My sweatshirt feels too hot, and my bare legs beneath the tennis skirt feel too cold.
Nerves, unusual and unwelcome, pulse in my stomach. Now that my brain can focus on other things than a ball coming at me in high speed, it’s circled back to him.
I’ve made a decision.
Tonight, after I’ve showered and had dinner, I’ll get in a cab and head to the Winter Hotel to talk. To tell him that I don’t know what the way forward might look like… but that I want to try. With him.
By the time I’m back on my block, my legs ache. I can’t wait to jump into my shower and have the warm water smooth over sore muscles. I nod hello to the concierge who works in the lobby during the days.
“Miss Bishop,” he says. “Just a moment, please. There was a man here earlier who delivered a letter for you.”
I pause. “Hand delivered?”
“Yes. Let’s see…. Here it is.” He hands it over. It’s an anonymous white envelope with my name scrawled across it.
“Thanks.”
“Anytime,” he says. “Hope you played a great game today.”
“I sure did. Thank you, Jerry.” I barely make it to the elevators before I’ve torn open the sealed envelope. Inside is a handwritten note.
Sophia,
I’m not done with us. Because there was an us, sweetheart, and it was the best us I’ve ever been a part of. You told me not to contact you again. If that’s still what you want I’ll honor that, and won’t do it again. But if you’re having even a sliver of doubt… let me convince you that our future is unwritten. I will never pressure you in any direction. What we build together is ours, and I think it could be something great.
You once said you wanted us to go places where no one knows who we are, and the past doesn’t hide around every corner. I wish I’d listened. But I’ve heard you now, and that’s where you’ll find me. I’ll be at your favorite ramen place every night this week. Come to me if you want to talk.
Isaac
The ramen place.
