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“Be as mean as you need to be right now, Rob. Let the dragon out.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“No, not at all. You’re mad. I don’t want to say anything patronizing like ‘You deserve to be,’ or ‘I’ve acted terribly, please forgive me.’ I don’t want to be forgiven. I’ve been thinking a lot this week, stuck at home at my mother’s, talking, talking—you know she’s never short on opinions—and I realized that I’ve been so miserable. Comfortably miserable, doing this job because it was easy but not taking it seriously, getting all caught up in drama that was just an excuse for me to act out. And I don’t want to be that person anymore. It’s not fair to you. Your mother said as much to me on Christmas Eve.”
“What did my mother say to you? I’ve told you and told you not to listen to her.”
“No, Rob, it’s fine, she was right. In her own way. She was right all along. I always thought I was being so strong by being with you, staying together, proving to myself that I could be committed, that I could do something right. This week, I don’t know, I figured out that I’m weak and scared and miserable, and I love you so much, but I don’t want to get married. And I don’t want to have kids. And it’s not at all fair of me to hold you here with me, like a hostage, depriving you of the chance to find someone who might want those things with you. It isn’t enough for me to think about it, to have that ring, that beautiful ring, your beautiful heart, and spend the rest of our lives together drinking myself to death because I’m so miserable.”
“I’ll go anywhere with you. Do anything. Don’t, Kelly, I don’t want—you just have to ask.”
“I’m not going to. Ask, that is. I’m going to say right now that you should keep the apartment. I’ll stay with my mom and Carl for a while until I find a place. And it’s going to suck and be hard, and I can’t believe I’m even this calm right now, but I am, and this is what I want, and I’m—”
“Come home, please. I can’t do it here, I can’t have this conversation here, now.”
The countdown had begun—people were shouting numbers—and Rob pulled me close to him. There was a tenderness between us when they got to one, and cheers all around, and then we were kissing, and it felt like good-bye for me. I said, “I’ll come home as soon as I can. I will.”
But he didn’t leave. He sobered up, helped Beth and me close down the party, and stayed close. He held my hand in the cab back to our condo, and we got in bed together side by side, not saying much, but both knowing that everything had changed.
Epilogue
THIS MORNING HAS been full of déjà vu. I slipped into old clothes and warm boots, and recognized that the grayness belonged to the last four months, not to the present hours as they move forward. The memory of that dinner is trapped like an earworm in my mind. I play and replay it. Would I do it all differently? Could I have been an adult about everything from the start? Balancing out relief and regret have gotten me through the long, cold winter.
I’m lucky. The moment Annie heard that I’d called it off with Rob she let me stay in her basement apartment. The rent is cheap, and I’m not often there, except to sleep. Annie’s always traveling, and my stepbrothers are here now that university exams are done. It feels like a second home. My mother comes by, and Meghan’s spent the night a couple times, pregnancy pillow in tow.
Today, I was knocked off kilter, first by the temperature—above freezing and holding—and then by a crocus, purple and bright, that I spied poking out of someone’s garden as I walked to the bus stop on my way to school. I’m working on some extra film credits, putting together a portfolio. As I walked, the wind pushed into me with the force of a lover you know is wrong for you but whom you can’t resist. Still, I persisted, aching, sore, exhausted, because I knew that we’ll soon be rid of this winter. Soon I can welcome spring, just like I did that flower.
Rob bought me out of the condo. He was beyond decent, and the money sitting in my bank account gives me a freedom I never thought I would have. I could afford to go to school in New York. I’ve applied, but I don’t know if I’ll get in. I could finance my own film and get my start that way. Take that amazing camera Rob bought me for Christmas and head off to find my story. I could buy another place. It’s nice to have options. Rob didn’t have to be that generous.
Garrett didn’t come back from the West Coast. As far as I know, he tried to resign over email but the powers that be convinced him to work out of the small Vancouver office until he sorted out where he wanted to live. Marianne packed up their place for them. He and Jen could be back together, or they might be split up, I don’t know, and I’m trying so hard not to call or text him because I miss him with every inch of my body. But I promised myself I’d be alone, stand on my own two feet, for as long as I could possibly stand it.
I miss having them both in my life: the constant goodness of Rob influencing me in ways I didn’t even realize, and though my own rebellion pushed back, it kept me in an odd sort of balance; and Garrett, who was the ever-present person to go for lunch with, to riff off in truly boring meetings, to make the hours fly by. They filled up my life. Being alone is scary. Rob keeps in touch, and I’m glad for it. It’s only been four months, and we were always friends. I can’t imagine my life without him, although I know it’ll come to that eventually. He’ll meet someone soon, I can feel it, and it’ll be quick—a destination wedding, which would kill his mother. Then they’ll take up residence in that house his parents are itching to buy for them.
Rob taught me how to love, but I didn’t love myself. And falling for the wrong person won’t ever turn out right. And then I found the right person, but the timing was all wrong. I haven’t found the balance between the two that I hope is out there for me. Love is tricky. But now that I know I can stand on my own two feet, I can wait. It will happen.
If it doesn’t, that’s okay, too, because I can fill my life up with family, and traveling, and movies, and everything that means something to me. The trick is to be happy either way. To understand yourself is a win in life, to be your own person, to pursue your own dreams.
I resigned my publicity job so I could go back to film school until I could sort out whether I’d head to New York or not. I forced myself into the spring term with a lot of pressure and phone calls and help from the most unlikely of places—Evan. He’s a producer, of all things. One of life’s little pieces fell into place. I’m working for him part time, keeping him organized, and absolutely not allowing any kind of romance. No work boyfriend. Noactualboyfriend. It feels good to fill up my own space. Who knows? I might have made the two biggest mistakes of my life in quitting my job and giving Rob back his ring. I guess I’ll never know what might have been. Butthisis my fairy-tale ending: me standing on the subway in jeans and Uggs, heading to my editing class at Ryerson, a decade older than everyone else enrolled, and loving every minute of it.
* * *
A few days later, I’m about to leave for school when there’s a knock at the door. I shout, “Annie, you know you can just come in, it’s not locked.”
“Hi,” he said.
“Oh.” Any further words were lost.
“I’m ready if you are.”
“Garrett—”
“No excuses.”
“I’m so happy to see you.”
And that’s where I’ll fade to black and cut.
