29 Ethan
July 2018
Living in New York City is exhausting. Ten-hour days in the office, followed by happy hours, followed by sleepovers with Sloane don’t leave a lot of time for myself. I used to go to the gym every day; now I’m lucky if I get there once a week. I can see and feel a difference, and I don’t like it, if I’m being honest.
Ever since our last fight, things with Sloane have felt off on my end. I didn’t expect to jump back into things so quickly, but I guess that’s what happens when you sleep with your ex who was in another relationship. She gave up someone else for me, so I feel like I owe it to her to try. Sloane’s been questioning me about our relationship more than ever. Every time she has more than two glasses of wine, she begins the hypotheticals. I get where she’s coming from, but I don’t know how much longer I can take it.
The gym is packed, and I wonder why I pay almost two hundred dollars a month to not even find a machine. Coming here is supposed to clear my head, not make me more stressed. After an hour of hitting weights, I sit in the sauna and lean my head back against the wood planks. I forgot how much I missed this uninterrupted time. No phone, no people, no thoughts. I close my eyes and stay in there until I feel like I’m going to pass out, grab my backpack from the locker, and take the subway home.
“Hey!” Sloane greets me from the kitchen before I can even close the door behind me. “Noah let me in. Lauren and Miles are cooking at my place, so I figured I’d bring food over here so you didn’t have to worry about cooking. I know it’s been a long day.”
Not only am I slightly annoyed that she invited herself over but also that she’s here in general. I just got done sweating my ass off at the gym and in an air-conditioning-less subway; I was looking forward to a quiet apartment and an ice-cold shower. I force a smile as I walk into the kitchen.
“Thanks, you didn’t have to do this,” I say. “I’m all sweaty, so I’m gonna shower before I eat. You can start though.”
I continue to the bathroom without turning back to look at Sloane because I know I’ll see the disappointment in her face. She means well, and I appreciate the effort, but sometimes it’s just too much. I take an extra-long shower to try and bring my mood back up, but I still feel just as shitty afterwards. I throw on a pair of boxers and basketball shorts before making my way back into the common area where Sloane is waiting for me.
“Do you want me to leave?” she asks. “I’m sorry. I should’ve texted before coming.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I’m sorry. I’m just tired,” I lie, trying to reassure her. I pull her into a hug and rest my chin on the top of her head. Sometimes I forget how short she is.
“Okay…if you’re sure. Want me to heat up your food?”
“That’d be great. I’ll find something for us to watch.” I kiss her and then get comfortable on the couch. I feel bad for being standoffish.
Minutes later she hands me a microwaved bowl of hibachi chicken and rice, then sits on the side of the couch opposite from me. I can tell she’s upset by my attitude earlier, but I try not to think too much about it. We watch a new movie that’s in Netflix’s top ten. By the time it’s over, I notice Sloane’s drank more than half a bottle of wine by herself. With wine usually comes a fight or a game of twenty questions, but before she has the chance to start either, I start kissing her. I pick her up off the couch and kiss her the entire way to my bedroom, where I take off her clothes and stare at her in the glow of the streetlights. Sloane falls back on her elbows, and even though I can’t see it, I know she’s blushing.
She’s lying on her back as I’m on top of her, and in between breaths and moans, she says it—the words I’ve been dreading to hear.
“I love—” She stops once she realizes what she’s about to say. “Fucking you.”
I immediately bring her mouth to mine to avoid any further conversation until I’ve finished. We remain quietly in our positions for a few seconds before I get up to go to the bathroom.
When I come back, she’s lying in one of my T-shirts on the far side of the bed with her back facing me. I climb into bed and bring my body closer to hers. I can tell she’s upset with me, but instead of addressing it, I lie behind her until she falls asleep. Then I turn over and scroll on my phone for a while until my eyes start to get heavy.
What have I gotten myself into?