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Jake’s news about Dad retiring shakes me. Even though he’d passed the reins to Jake a while ago, he still came into the office and worked occasionally. I didn’t think he’d ever retire permanently. He built the company up from mom-and-pop status to a hugely profitable business. This business is his baby.
“Is Dad okay?” I ask, worried. If something happened while I was gone, I’d never forgive myself.
“Dad is fine. But you need to get back here. It’s past time for you to come home.”
Forty-eight hours later, I’m stepping off the plane at JFK Airport. Jake was going to send the company jet to Miami to pick me up so he could be sure I’d come, but I refused. It gave me a childish sense of pleasure tokeep him guessing whether I’d actually arrive. For the same reason, I didn’t call for the company car to pick me up at the airport.
I’m gonna do it the straight-up New Yorker way and take a taxi.
I saunter out of the airport, not in any hurry to get to the office. I didn’t bring any luggage other than a small carry-on with essentials. My condo has everything I need for the short time I plan to stay. I’m getting in and getting out.
The taxi line has about twenty people, and the air is hot and stagnant outside the airport. When it’s my turn for the taxi, I hop in and ask the driver to blast the air conditioning. I lean back and close my eyes. A calm familiarity washes over me as the driver moves in and out of traffic, dodging cars, switching lanes, and tapping the horn. Driving through New York City isn’t for the faint of heart. It won’t be long until I arrive at our office on Wall Street.
As much as I wasn’t looking forward to returning, this is my city. And I love it here. Leaving here was painful, but not nearly as painful as coming back.
Will I run into her? How can I avoid it?
Not that I’d ever admit to anyone, my entire reason for fleeing the city was a woman.
It sounds so lame.
I left the city I love because of a woman.
If my brothers knew, I’d never hear the end of it. And you know what? I’d deserve whatever they dished out. I knew better than to let things get that far. There’s a reason why I always keep relationships casual. I was burned once, long ago. And I promised myself that I’d never let that happen again.
And she knew that. We agreed that we would always be friends.
Friends with benefits?
Whatever you want to call it, she agreed. And things were great. So great. Until she messed it all up. I blame her entirely. I kept up my end of the agreement.
The memories of our last night together haunted me for months.
We lay side-by-side on my bed. Her long strawberry-blonde hair was spread on the pillow like a silken web, and the moonlit night streamed through the window, casting the softest glow on her face. Her cornflower-blue eyes held a mix of emotions that I was too blind to read. I was lulled into a false sense of security. I thought she felt the same as I felt.
But she didn’t feel the same at all.
She had the audacity to tell me that she wanted more. She said she cared about me and wanted to take the next step. To be a real couple.She wanted to tell my family about us.
When I tried to talk her out of it, she accused me of having a fear of commitment.
Just because I never want to get married or have any children doesn’t make me afraid of commitment. I was committed to her whether or not we had a name for it. I hadn’t slept with anyone else in over a year. If that’s not a commitment, what the hell is it?
What did she expect from me?
Marriage?
She knew better than that. And she told me that she felt the same way. She said she never wanted to be tied to one person. She didn’t want to be controlled in that way. So, what changed?
Thank God she didn’t say the “L” word. That would have put me over theedge, for sure.
She told me she couldn’t continue with the way we were. She gave me an ultimatum. I had to make a choice.
So, I did what I needed to do. The sadness in her eyes almost tore me apart. I told her I didn’t care for her like she cared for me, that we were nothing more than friends. That we had taken things too far and that I couldn’t be what she wanted me to be. I made it clear to her that I would never be relationship material.
Though she was upset at my response, I hoped we could at least remain friends. I told her she was important to me and didn’t want to let our friendship go. I suggested we take some time to clear our heads and think about what type of relationship we could have. In my heart, I knew things couldn’t continue as they were. But I wasn’t willing to promise something I couldn’t give.
In a city of two million people, it had to be easy to put some distance between myself and one female. I could avoid her if necessary. Right?
