Prologue #3
Anne hated how his voice sounded so sharp, so different from the deep warmth she was used to.
She also hated how they were back here, at the point where so many arguments ended up: her mother.
While Anne’s father, Walter Elliot, took little interest in her accomplishments, it was Bianca Russell who was always doling out opinions and advice.
Freddie hated it. Yes, he had only met her once—and even that had been by accident—but he had heard enough stories about Bianca’s influence over Anne’s life to form his own opinion.
Meanwhile, Bianca had her own thoughts about Freddie—his fantastical dreams about changing the world, his laissez-faire attitude toward planning for it, and how his mindset was so very different from Anne’s.
“You both can’t get what you want, you know,” her mother had said when Anne told her about Freddie’s dream to travel after graduation. “One of you will have to compromise for the other, and you don’t want it to be you.”
“What does that mean?” Anne had asked.
Bianca had just sighed, like she’d seen this movie before and knew how it ended. “I mean, you don’t come back from resentment, Anne. Don’t be afraid to be selfish.”
“But I don’t want to lose him if—”
“Trust me, if he really loves you so much, he’ll stay.”
Her mother spoke from personal experience—her marriage to Anne’s father had dissolved a decade before and Bianca had had numerous affairs since then. But Anne always reminded herself that she was nothing like her mother, even as her words still echoed in Anne’s head.
“It might have been her idea, but I’m not getting my MBA because my mother told me to,” Anne replied, pulling the Santa coat tighter around her shoulders.
“Then why the hell are you?” Freddie asked.
Because that’s what’s expected, she wanted to say. It’s what’s always been expected, and I don’t know who I am away from that.
“Because that’s what people do. They grow up and do the hard things, like go to college and get degrees that are applicable to the real world.”
“Who says we have to be like other people?” His expression had hardened, like he recognized the influence beneath Anne’s words.
“We don’t, but that doesn’t mean we have to be irresponsible, either,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is our future we’re talking about. That deserves time and attention and—”
“A plan?” he cut in, his tone biting.
The word jostled a familiar nerve deep in her chest. The one that always twinged when she was reminded of how different they were, when he made it sound like her meticulous nature was some sort of flaw.
“Yes,” she said. “Everything can’t be an adventure all the time.”
“Right,” he said with a bitter laugh. “I know what those plans look like. Some big job down on Wall Street that your parents will be able to brag about. A 401(k) and paid time off while you wait to eventually retire.” He shook his head.
“That’s everyone else’s normal. But it doesn’t have to be mine.
Or yours, regardless of what your mom says. ”
Here we go again, she thought. She was working so hard to keep from screaming that her hands were fists at her side. Maybe that’s why they always avoided talking about the future—they always ended up here, at an impasse that was never resolved.
“Don’t punish me because you and I want different things,” she replied, keeping her tone measured.
“That’s the thing, Annie, I don’t know what the hell you want,” he bit back. “And neither do you.”
It felt like a physical blow. So sharp and swift that it severed something, a vital line that was suddenly limp.
“That’s why I’m going to Columbia in the fall,” she said. She hated how her voice now sounded so small.
Freddie must have noticed the change, too, because his expression softened and his arms were suddenly around her, drawing her against his tall body.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “It’s just a lot. But we’ll make this work, okay?”
“How?” she whispered.
“Well, if you’re staying in New York, I will, too,” he murmured.
She leaned back enough to meet his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll turn down the Buenos Aires program and stay,” he replied, his mouth quirking up in that crooked grin again.
It would have been so easy to dismiss his sentiment as a joke.
Because there was no way he would walk away from an opportunity like this.
Objectively, it was insane. But then she remembered that the same impetuousness that saw him apply could just as easily see him turn it down.
It was Freddie’s MO. And the worst part was that he would see it as a win, another adventure to traverse.
For a little while at least, until he had time to contemplate what he’d given up. Then the resentment would set in.
“This isn’t a decision you make on a whim, Freddie,” she said, stepping back and out of his arms. “This is your future, and—”
“I know you like your plans, Annie,” he cut her off. “But this is my decision. I want to spend next year with you.”
He was still smiling even as a new seriousness settled in his eyes, and she could already see his stubbornness taking root. The decision was being made in real time and no matter how much she told him he needed to go, nothing was going to change his mind.
You both can’t get what you want, you know, her mother whispered in her head.
This is what her mother had been talking about. They were at the crux of it, and one of them had to give to move them both forward.
Don’t be afraid to be selfish.
The selfish thing to do right now would be to keep her mouth shut.
Let him stay and get everything she wanted.
Except Anne couldn’t be selfish, not with him.
He needed to go to Argentina, even if that meant she had to force him onto the plane herself.
She was okay being the bad guy, as long as he didn’t have to compromise his dreams for her.
That’s when the realization hit her with awful crystal clarity. She needed to be the bad guy, cut him loose, and let him go.
She needed to break up with him.
It should have sounded crazy, a rash decision that would be laughable in the morning, and for anyone else it might.
But Anne understood logic. Her brain knew how to attack a problem, and it had shifted this one into a beautifully simple calculation: Two equal forces will oppose each other until one of them bends, but only if both forces remain unchanged.
She simply had to take herself out of the equation.
“FREDDIE!” a voice called out from the front of the bar. “WHERE’D YOU GO, MAN?”
Freddie released a frustrated sigh. “Let’s head back inside. We can talk about this later, okay?”
“You go ahead,” Anne said, taking another step back. “I think I’m going to head home.”
He stared down at her, like he could see how something had changed. How she was desperately trying to hide what was already floating in her head.
“Hey,” Freddie said. “You okay?”
No. I have to let you go and I have no idea how, she thought. It was for the best; she knew that. But she could never tell him because that would only make him want to stay more. The irony was so sharp she wanted to scream.
But instead, she said, “I’m fine.”
Maybe this was inevitable. That would explain why she had avoided the topic of their future for so long. Deep inside, she knew that when she did, there was no going back. This was it, for better or for worse. And living in purgatory was easier than taking that decisive action.
“Let me walk you to the subway,” he said, taking a step toward her.
“No, it’s okay. It’s just a few blocks,” she said, forcing herself to smile even as tears pricked her eyes. “Besides, the host can’t leave his own party.”
Somewhere in the bar, there were cheers, laughter. “FREDDIE! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!”
Snow had started to fall again and the beginning chords of “Deck the Halls” floated in the air. Neither of them moved for a moment.
Anne knew what had to come next. But she couldn’t quite muster the courage to say the words. Not yet. So she convinced herself she could wait. Until after Christmas, at least.
“I’ll call you when I get home,” she said. She began to take off the Santa coat he had draped over her shoulders, but he waved it away.
“I’ll grab it next time I see you,” he replied.
Another moment passed.
“I love you, Annie,” he finally said.
“I love you, too.”
His gaze traveled down her face, as if trying to read her mind. She held her breath, waiting for him to say it, to know like he had always known so much about her. But nothing came. He just turned and disappeared around the brick wall without another word.
It wasn’t until she was home at her dad’s apartment in the East Village that she remembered the small paper triangle in her back pocket. She read it in the privacy of her bedroom.
It’s Friday, December 22nd. We’re having our annual Christmas party at Half Pint with all our friends and you just walked in.
You haven’t seen me yet, and I’m going to let you look around for a minute so I can watch you.
I don’t get to watch you so much these days, and I miss it.
You pierce my soul, Annie. That view fits a part of me and I never want to be without it.
I love you so much, and I can’t wait for our next adventure.
—Freddie
She tried not to cry as she folded it back into its original shape and carefully put it into the small box in her nightstand that held all the others.
You both can’t get what you want, her mother’s words echoed in her mind again.
She didn’t want to believe it, but maybe this time, her mother was right.