Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Veda pouts as I pick up the last of my boxes, labeled Kitchen Crap .
“Leaving us ,” Cassie corrects, sporting an equally pouty face.
They’re standing by the door, conveniently close enough that I can’t squeeze through with my box.
“I’ll only be twenty blocks away.”
Cassie doesn’t seem appeased by this. “That’s nineteen too many.”
“Oh, come on! I’ll still come to yoga every Tuesday,” I offer.
Nothing.
“And Veda,” I lilt, but she turns her head, refusing to look me in the eyes. “I’ll see you at work every Monday.”
She mulls this fact over for a second before huffing and turning back to me. “Fine, but can we at least commute back home together after?”
“You bet your ass we can.”
“And you have to stay for a coffee!” Cassie chimes in.
“Done,” I promise, knowing I’ll miss my daily cup of burned swill in the morning. “Can you let me through now?”
Veda shakes her head no, taking the box from me and setting it on the ground. “Just one more thing.”
I’m about to roll my eyes when she throws her arms around me, squeezing me like her life depends on it. I squeeze her right back before Cassie joins in, the three of us holding on to each other tight and swaying side to side.
“It’s not going to be the same here without you,” Cassie says over my shoulder.
And I won’t be the same without them. They’re everything to me; they’re the first friends I made in New York, they got me my job at Flourish, they helped me start my life here. I can’t imagine not coming home to my best friends every day.
But it’s a good change. The kind that means life is moving forward, that great things are happening. So we have to embrace it.
“It’s the end of an era!” Veda cries.
“But the start of a new one,” I reassure, giving them one last squeeze. “The three of you are going to make so many new memories together.”
“Are you having a group hug without me?” Meera gasps as she appears in the doorway, her own box in hand.
After countless late-night phone calls, a couple more visits to the city, and one too many arguments with Surya, Veda was finally able to convince her that New York was where she should be.
Even though she got in to every single school she applied to (as predicted), she ultimately realized she wanted to move away from her hometown and experience living in the city. She accepted her admission to Columbia in the spring, no less than a week before Eli asked me to move in with him. The timing worked out perfectly, since I suspect her parents wouldn’t have been too thrilled with her living on her own in New York like Veda did when she moved out.
With my promotion to columnist and Eli’s new position as a financial analyst at Kaplan Wealth Management, we were able to find a cozy apartment for rent in the Upper West Side that just so happens to be equal-distance from my old place and the Kaplans. Not only does it have an extra bedroom for the girls to sleepover whenever they want, but the landlord is abundantly pet-friendly.
Needless to say, we’ve agreed to start looking for a puppy to adopt in the fall. I’ve already bookmarked the websites to all the local (and not-so-local) shelters, and picked up a ton of books on being a new Dog Mom. Eli practically had to hold me back from buying a dog bed the last time we went shopping.
“Then get in here!” Veda cheers from inside our embrace.
Meera drops her box and rushes into our welcoming arms, the four of us hugging and giggling like we’re in a cliché chick flick. But I don’t care. These are my girls, my chosen family. And I’m not withholding love from myself ever again. (Plus, I’ve always loved a good chick flick.)
“Incoming!” Eli calls when he reaches the top of the stairs, carrying a haul so big it’s blocking his eyes.
We jump out of the way before he sets the boxes down with a thump, straightening and wiping sweat from his brow.
“That’s the last of Meera’s stuff from the truck,” he says, looking around the room. “How we doing in here?”
We decided to go halfsies with Meera on a moving truck to get me moved out and her moved in all in the same day. She drove over from Philly this morning while I packed up everything I owned (which, as it turns out, was mostly just clothes and sheets), and now we’re switching out her boxes for mine before Eli and I head to our new place.
“Only one left,” I reply, bending down to pick up the Kitchen Crap.
“I got it.”
Eli takes it out of my hands and kisses my forehead, earning us a joint ‘ Awww! ’ from the girls.
“I’ll meet you in the truck when you’re ready,” he says, turning to our fan club. “And I’ll see all of you in a couple weeks.”
When he learned Meera was going to start at Columbia in the fall, he offered to give her a tour of the campus to help her find all her classes. Of course, once Veda and Cassie caught wind of it, they made the executive decision to turn it into a group activity; so now we’re all taking a day trip to Columbia in August.
He heads out the door, box in hand, while I take a deep breath to gain my composure. I know I’m going to see them all the time. I know I’m only moving a few minutes away. But it still tugs at my heartstrings to be leaving this apartment for the last time as their roommate (especially since Goatee Gary finally fixed the AC).
“I guess this is it,” I sniffle, tears stinging my eyes. “I’m going to miss you guys so much.”
Veda takes my hands in hers while Cassie rests her head on my shoulder, the three of us quietly taking in our last moment together.
“You know what the silver lining in all of this is?” Veda squeaks after a beat, breaking the silence. “I can say from experience that Meera’s a lot cleaner than you. ”
“Shut up,” I laugh. “You know you’re gonna miss me too.”
I give them each a squeeze before tearing myself away, waving goodbye as I head out the door and down the stairs.
But this isn’t goodbye. It’s see you later . And I can be okay with that.
I hop into the passenger seat of the moving truck, doing a quick swipe at the stray tear on my cheek.
“You okay?” Eli asks, placing his hand on mine.
I turn to look at him and find he’s giving me his You’re my everything look, the one he had on the first time he told me he loved me, and the day he asked me to move in with him.
“Never better.”
***
“Oh my God, who needs this many mugs?” I ask as I start unpacking Eli’s second box of kitchen items, currently at two dozen and counting.
The cupboard we’ve allocated toward drinkware is already near full capacity, and that’s not including the ones I brought from my place. It’s not even like his are all part of a matching set. A handful of them are the same, but the rest are a random assortment of sizes, colors, and random logos, as if collecting them is one of his special interests.
“I like to drink coffee, is that a crime?” he teases from across the room, where he’s setting up the bookshelf.
He pulls out a framed issue of The New Yorker from our box of books and sets it at the top, leaning against the wall to display it. Pride swells through me, because this isn’t just any ordinary copy of The New Yorker. This issue features a short story called The Locket —which just so happens to be mine.
Once I finally worked up the courage to send it to Parker (after much insistence from Eli), he forwarded it to some of the agents he works with. It took a few months, but before I knew it, someone was reaching out and offering to represent me.
Naturally, I replied something along the lines of “Absofuckinlutely”, and the rest is history. He submitted it to a ton of literary magazines and publications to try and get it published, and lo and behold, The New Yorker was the first to show interest.
These days we’re working on compiling a bunch of other short stories I have on the back burner (as well as some new ones I’ve been writing) to try and turn them into a collection. The goal is to eventually sell it to a publishing house to get a real-life, physical book printed, but my agent says it could take years.
I’m in no rush though. For now, I’ve got everything I need right in front of me, and anything else will fall into place in its own time. Or, as Cassie says, ‘What’s meant to be, will be’.
“No, but it should be a crime to own something this nasty,” I reply, pulling out an old, beat-up mug with chips along the lip and scratches all down the sides. If there ever was a logo on this one, it wore off a long time ago.
“I love that mug! The handle is the perfect size for my hand.”
I don’t even attempt to conceal how ridiculous I find that argument. “If you really loved it, you would put it out of its misery.”
“Not a chance.”
I take out another one that’s missing its handle entirely, and raise my eyebrow at him. “C’mon, we could throw away some of these broken ones and still have enough for the entirety of Manhattan.”
“No way, they all have sentimental value to me.”
“Really?” I mock, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “Even the one from the Hard Rock Café?”
“Even that one.”
“HA! There is no mug from the Hard Rock Café! Admit it, you’re a hoarder.”
Shock paints his face as I drop the two broken mugs back into the box, lifting the whole thing up into my arms.
“You tricked me?”
“You snooze, you lose. I’m tossing all of these.”
I start making my way toward the front door when his shock morphs into amusement, a wry smile spreading across his lips. “Oh no you don’t!”
He sprints toward me and lunges for the box before I sidestep him, narrowly escaping with the goods. I run back toward the kitchen to detour through the living room, but get cornered by him before I reach the couch.
“You little liar!” he quips as he catches me by the waist and wraps his arms around me, a high-pitched squeal spilling out of me.
“Is this what it’s going to be like, now that we’re living together?” he says into my ear, warmth spreading through me. “You trick me for your own sick, twisted motives?”
“I wouldn’t call decluttering ‘sick and twisted’, but yes,” I crane my neck to look up at him, batting my eyelashes innocently. “You’re now officially at the mercy of my whims.”
“I’m beginning to wonder what I got myself into.”
“Hate to break it to you, but you signed a lease. Can’t back out now.”
He buries his face in my hair, kissing the side of my head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
I set down the box and twist toward him, folding my arms behind his neck. He’s giving me that look again, that You’re my everything one that makes my heart race and my toes tingle. Our faces come together, lips parting and eyes fluttering closed, when someone buzzes at the door.
My eyes fly open, disappointed, and I let my hands fall off his shoulders.
“I wonder who that could be,” Eli muses, with a grin that tells me he definitely already knows.
He buzzes up the surprise guests and heads for the door, opening it a moment later for Gigi and Tobias.
“Hey! What are you guys doing here?” I ask, going over to greet them with genuine confusion.
I know Eli will see his brother at work tomorrow like he does every day from Monday to Friday, so it seems strange he’d feel the need to drop by. Then again, the two of them have gotten a lot closer—if it even seems possible—since last summer.
Whenever Eli would encourage me to send my work to Parker, I would encourage him to talk to his brother. To tell him his reservations about working for the family company, put it all out in the open instead of keeping it bundled up inside. It took time, but we coaxed each other to do the things we were too scared to do, little by little.
The day after he graduated, when I was sure time had run out and he’d given up on the idea of having a heart-to-heart with his brother, Eli finally told him. He told Tobias about the pressure he felt to pursue finance, to accept a job at KWM and forever spend his career in his brother’s shadow, to carry on their parents’ legacy when it was the cause of so much loneliness in his childhood.
And to his shock, Tobias understood. He said it hadn’t occurred to him that Eli might not want to work for him, but that it was fine if he didn’t. He left the door open for him to join the company if he ever changed his mind, but suggested Eli take some time to figure out what he really wanted.
And sure enough, just knowing that the option was there gave him the peace of mind he’d been looking for all those years. He realized it wasn’t that he didn’t want the job; more that he needed to know that what he wanted mattered. That he could make the decision for himself.
He’s been working there for six months now, and it’s like someone switched a light on inside of him. He’s brighter, less weighed down by what he assumed was duty, rather than choice. And he’s never seemed happier.
“We just wanted to come by and give you a little housewarming present,” Gigi beams, handing me a bouquet of white lilies and giving me a kiss on each cheek, European-style. “And to bring some old friends by.”
Princess trots out from behind them, Gigi unhooking the leash from her collar before she sprints toward me.
“Hi, girl! I’ve missed you so much!” I gush, crouching down and giving her lots of belly rubs.
I haven’t seen her since the day before she had her puppies nearly three months ago, and I’m having serious withdrawals. Princess licks my hands and wags her tails excitedly, nuzzling herself up against my legs. All I can say is this: the feeling’s mutual.
Tobias disappears out into the hallway for a second before lugging in a doggy crate, lifting the blanket that’s draped overtop and opening the door. Out strolls the tiniest, most adorable little puppy I’ve ever seen in my entire life, assessing his new environment with caution before padding over to his mom.
“And who do we have here?” I stay perfectly still so as not to scare him off, letting him sniff around my hand as I go into cuteness overload. “I thought you already re-homed all the puppies?”
“We did, but this little guy wasn’t growing as fast as the others,” Gigi explains. “We decided to keep him for a little while until he was ready to be on his own.”
“Well I’m so glad I got to meet you! Yes I am, because you’re such a cutiepie!”
I carefully pick him up and scratch behind his ears, Eli sharing a look with his brother.
“Sorry, I know I go a little overboard with the puppy talk.”
“No, it’s not that,” Eli smiles.
“There’s something else we wanted to talk to you about,” Tobias starts. “We know the two of you have plans to adopt a dog of your own soon; we were wondering if you might be interested in keeping him instead?”
No. Freaking. WAY.
My jaw drops to the floor, swirls of joy and excitement filling my stomach at the prospect of keeping this little guy. Of finally having a dog of my own, like I’ve always wanted.
“Not right away, of course!” Gigi assures. “We know you just moved in, we would obviously keep him for as long as you need to get settled, and—”
“We’d love to!” I cry, lunging for her and wrapping my arms around the pair of them.
I’m practically jumping up and down with glee when I remember that this is Eli’s apartment, too .
“I mean, if you’re okay with it,” I falter, peering at him over my shoulder.
“Who’s idea do you think it was?”
I think my heart is going to explode.
I pull him in and give him the biggest kiss I can without making our guests totally uncomfortable, before pulling away and grabbing his face in my hands.
“Have I ever told you that I love you?”
“Multiple times,” he says through squished cheeks.
I bend back down to pick up the puppy, holding him close and letting the feeling fill me up with adoration. This little puppy, this bundle of warmth and joy, is ours. And I’m going to love him so much.
“We haven’t named him yet,” Gigi adds. “We thought you two might want to do that.”
Eli and I look at each other, then at the puppy, and back to each other. He gives me a shrug after a beat, leaving it up to me. Luckily, I’ve got just the thing.
“How about Duke?”
Princess wags her tail, yapping at the pup in my arms as soon as the words come out of my mouth.
“Sounds like Princess approves,” Tobias laughs.
“Duke,” Eli repeats, giving him belly rubs. “I like it. Suits him.”
“Duke it is, then.”
After all, we have to stay on theme.