I walk into the empty apartment two hours later, dump my bag on the table and survey the room. I don’t
even want to be here, I should be at work organizing, instead of coming home to sob into my pillow. I
need to get a grip of my life. Wilma is right and all of this has been non-stop, yet all I’ve done is bury my
head in the sand and pushed myself to go to work, never taking the time to absorb it all. I need time to
think. Real time to myself, to figure out what I’m going to do.
Do I want to work in Europe?
No … I don’t want to leave New York.
Do I want to leave Carrero House?
No. I love working there, it’s familiar and stable. Plus, I adore Wilma, Margo, and even Rosalie. I would
miss the people I see every day even though we don’t interact much. I couldn’t leave Sarah. I mean, I
know she has Marcus and lately, I’m starting to warm to him a little. I even laughed at a joke he made a
few days ago, but still … She’s my best friend.
But, on the other hand, things aren’t going anywhere. I feel like every time I see any light at the end of
the tunnel, Jake appears and blacks it out. He’s all I can see; all I can focus on and it’s driving me
slowly insane.
How did we get here? He used to be my everything, my friend, my protector, my lifeline … and now
he’s the cause of everything that’s wrong with me.
It feels like we’ve been apart for months, but the reality is, it’s only been weeks, just a month. Dragging
days and sleepless nights have caused time to stand still and I need to get over him, yet I haven’t even
begun.
Pulling on jogging clothes I decide to go for a run. It’s mid-afternoon in Queens and the sun is out, kids
playing in the street. It’s getting late in the season so it’s unexpectedly warm for the time of year.
Christmas will be here soon and that’s going to be an ordeal and a half as I know my mother wanted to
come here this year for some reason. Obviously, I don’t want her to. I’ve invited Sophie on Christmas
Eve to spend some time with her, and the last thing I need is my mother anywhere near her or me.
God, I miss that girl.
She’s been emailing me religiously. She seems to be doing well in her new home and in such a short
time she’s settled so well. She can’t believe how blessed she is, getting used to a wealthy family and all
the perks that go with her new lifestyle.
I pound my feet into the pavement, working up a sweat and it feels good. I’ve missed running even
though I only seemed to do it when I was staying in hotels with Jake. It had become part of the ritual of
our life. Since I’ve come home my running shoes have glared at me angrily from the corner asking why
I’m neglecting them, but not anymore.
I’m going to start doing this every day again as it helped before, helped me get my emotions in check,
helped me work through my internal dialogue. I’m sweating like crazy, working over everything,
emotionally, mentally, and physically, but I push on.
I’ll go to that dance tomorrow night. Show everyone who I am, who I used to be. I don’t need a date at
all. I’m PA Emma and I was always happy to stand alone with my chin held high.
There will be plenty of people I know there. All the staff from sixty-fifth, Margo, Wilma, Rosalie, Leila.
I miss Leila. Jake’s childhood friend and my ally when he took me on his family boat for a week.
Her emails are less frequent than Sophie’s, but we’ve stayed in contact and I know her family are all
going to attend this event. Sophie sadly won’t be, it’s adults only.
I need this, I need a social outing where people I know and like will be present. Wilma’s right, lots of
alcohol and dancing with Leila is just what I need.
Jake can stay the hell away from me. Since it’s what he said, right? We should avoid one another …
Well, Carrero, you’re the one who sent me the goddamn tickets.
I wonder if Marissa will be there and my stomach lurches in agony; up until now I’ve done well to ignore
that little issue. It pains me in so many ways to know that she and Jake hooked up and could potentially
be together again. It kills me to know she’s carrying his child, whether he wants it or not. I wish I could
see inside his head and really know how he feels about her, and the baby, gain some insight. She’s the
one person in the world I hate as much as Ray Vanquis.
I can’t see what her appeal is, I mean Jake and Marissa are so unmatched. I’ve never understood how
he could fall in love with her, even as a teen. She’s so vain and self-centered, cold, and domineering in
so many ways. Her poor child will have one loving parent, at least, one rock to rely on. And, as much
as it hurts me, so much more than I’m capable of enduring, I know Jake will be a good father.
* * *
I hit the shower on my return and eat with Sarah and Marcus quietly. It’s late and they have no clue that
I’ve been home for hours. Conversation is light. I watch them and for the first time I see it, the
compatibility, the companionship between them. Despite still thinking he’s a smarmy creep, I can see
the genuine affection he has for Sarah and it humbles yet pains me. I want this with Jake, so badly. We
had something close once, but we let this mess and sex get in the way and we destroyed everything. I
destroyed everything so I only have myself to blame.
I don’t tell Sarah anything. She’s too happy and comfy in Marcus’ arms watching a movie so I endure
the romantic comedy for a bit then excuse myself and head to bed. Faithful old sleeping pills working
wonders and getting me through my current tragic life.
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