31. Sunny
I let my briefcase fall to the floor and breathe a sigh of relief.
Kicking off the Louboutin heels Jeremy bought for my birthday in March, I grin the moment my bare feet hit the floor. Then I toss my tailored suit jacket onto his leather armchair. Well, I suppose it’s my chair now too. My lease ended three weeks ago, and I’ve officially moved in.
I take my gaze toward the kitchen. I can’t remember the last time I ate today. At this point, I’ll just wait until Jeremy gets home, and we order dinner. I’m far too exhausted to make myself anything.
It’s only Monday, and this workweek is killing me.
But come to think of it, every week feels like this.
I’ve been an associate at this firm two years now, and I’ve come to dread every single thing about my job.
The court hearings where my stomach is in knots.
The contentious calls from opposing counsel that give me an instant migraine.
The endless stream of research and writing assignments that force me to skip lunch.
The unwelcome knocks at my door from partners who insist I cancel plans because every fucking thing has to be done right away.
The worst part is, I’m scared to tell my own fiancé how miserable I am.
Because Jeremy is very invested in this dream of us both being high-powered attorneys. And when things don’t go his way, he’s pretty unpleasant to be around.
But after finally meeting his parents at their posh Manhattan brownstone a week ago, I honestly don’t think I can blame him for his mood swings. And now I understand why he’s put off introducing us the last three months since our engagement.
Jeremy’s parents are cold .
Neither of them cracked a smile the entire time we were there.
I suppose that shouldn’t have surprised me, considering my fiancé is far from jovial himself, but at least Jeremy has a sense of humor.
The first thing his dad said upon meeting me was that he was surprised his son had found someone who met his impossible standards.
And he was not joking. Then his mom lamented that it would have been nice to have a doctor in the family, presumably referring to Anjali.
When we gave them the perfectly nice bottle of cabernet we’d bought at Whole Foods, both parents eyed it skeptically and agreed to open something “good” from their wine cellar instead.
Over dinner, his mother made sure to let me know that the “gratuitously expensive” ring their son bought for me was not the family heirloom she would have preferred me to wear.
Then his father went on to tell me that, if Jeremy had put any effort at all into the four years he spent at Yale, he would have gotten into a much more impressive law school than the one we graduated from.
I was on the verge of tears and shell-shocked when we left.
The moment we reached the bottom of the steps in front of their brownstone, Jeremy looked at me with the saddest eyes.
I wrapped my arms around him, and kissed him, and told him how much I loved him.
Then we walked quietly, hand-in-hand, to the Plaza.
He’d insisted on booking a room there rather than stay with his parents—for obvious reasons.
Before we checked out of the hotel, he surprised me by telling me he’d put down a deposit for us to get married there exactly a year from now, in June 2008. I was shocked he booked it without talking to me first. I’ve always dreamed of a wedding in Beachwood.
Never mind that I always imagined getting married in the Dexters’ backyard.
But my mom’s house has nearly an acre of land that would be perfect for a reception as well. After the hard time Jeremy’s parents gave him over dinner, though, I figured the least I could do was let him pick the venue.
My heart aches for him. I can’t believe that’s the home he grew up in.
Maybe, eventually, my love can help repair some of the damage his parents have done. He’ll feel secure. Happy. And I won’t have to walk on eggshells around him so much anymore.
That’s my hope, at least.
After replacing my oppressive silk blouse and woefully binding pencil skirt with a soft tank and knit shorts, I head to the living room and plop down on the couch to call Sam.
Although she’s still working toward her PhD in New York, we missed seeing her last weekend because she was visiting family in Berkeley.
I could really use her comic relief right now.
Jeremy’s been moodier than ever since we got back from visiting his parents. For the past eight days, he’s been stalking around the apartment, high-strung and even more argumentative than usual.
To make matters worse, we haven’t had sex since before our trip to New York.
Ten days without physical intimacy is far from the end of the world for most couples, but for me and Jeremy it’s unheard of.
And considering how moody he’s been, this dry spell between us is making me feel lonely, stressed, and anxious.
Over the phone, I tell Sam all about the icy reception I got from Jeremy’s parents.
“Yikes,” she says. “No wonder your fiancé’s so broodingly sexy.”
I laugh. “Sam, I’m engaged to him now. You really don’t need to keep telling me how sexy he is—I’m well aware.”
“Maybe I’m afraid you’ll go blind again,” she teases.
“I still can’t believe you didn’t see it before.
I guess it’s a testament to how strong your feelings were for Dex.
The only time I was ever that blindly in love was with my second-grade boyfriend, Eric.
But that was only because he used to give me his Twinkies at lunch.
Once his mom stopped buying them, poor Eric didn’t stand a chance. ” She sighs. “I was a fickle child.”
I chuckle, although my pulse quickens. And it’s not only because Sam brought up Dex .
It’s the fact that she put my feelings for him in the past tense.
And the truth is, they’re very much still present.
I’ve learned to live with them, because it’s all I can do.
But in New York this past weekend, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
And it’s not like we’d ever been there together.
For some reason, though, while roaming the streets of the city, I felt haunted by his ghost. I suppose he travels there a lot for work.
Maybe subconsciously, I hoped I’d run into him.
It would have been the first time I’d seen him in over two-and-a-half years, since Paris.
Then again, if I had seen him, I would have been with Jeremy. And the thought of the two of them meeting makes me shudder. I imagine it would cause some catastrophic shift in air pressure—the kind that makes animals run for cover. And the moment they shook hands, the world would implode.
“Sunny? Did you hear me?”
“Sorry, Sam…I must have lost signal for a second,” I lie. “What were you saying?”
“I was asking if you told Dex you’re engaged yet.”
“Oh. Yeah…I told him the next day. I was so afraid of his reaction, I was eager to get it over with but…he actually handled it really well. He seemed completely fine, honestly.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” she replies.
I guess you could say that. It made me sad that Dex was so nonchalant but, at the same time, it confirms that I made the right choice to be with Jeremy.
As I’m having that thought, my fiancé walks through the front door .
With a scowl on his face.
Great.
“I should probably jump off,” I tell Sam. “Jeremy just got home, and we need to figure out what we’re doing for dinner.”
She scoffs. “Dinner? Yeah right. I bet you’re about to jump his bones. At least that’s what I ’d be doing if I hadn’t just sworn off all men.”
“Sworn off men? Since when? Weren’t you dating that guy, Andrew? In your program?”
She sighs. “That fizzled.”
“Did he stop bringing you Twinkies?” I joke.
“No…he actually gave his Twinkie to the other hot chick in our program.”
I frown. “Oh, Sam, I’m so sorry.”
“That’s okay. Honestly, his Twinkie was getting pretty stale. And now I have more time to focus on my dissertation. I’ll just have to live vicariously through you—so go have wild sex, and report back to me with details.”
If only it were that simple. Judging by his narrowed eyes and clenched fists, it’s probably safe to say Jeremy’s not in the mood. It’s like a cold front just blew into the apartment—I can feel the chill in the air.
But I laugh at Sam’s joke anyway. “I will do no such thing,” I tell her.
“You mean you won’t have wild sex? Or you won’t report back to me with details…”
“No details, of course.” I chew on my lip as my fiancé cracks open a beer with a furrowed brow, then stomps into our bedroom.
“So you guys do have wild sex…I knew it! One look at Jeremy and I could tell he was a tiger in bed. Well played, Sunny. I’m happy for you.”
As she says the words, I hear Jeremy slam a dresser drawer shut. I giggle despite the nervous flutter in my stomach. “Goodnight, Sam.”
“Night.”
When I hang up, guilt washes over me. I wasn’t being myself on the phone with Sam—I was acting.
Playing the role of the happy bride-to-be, all while my fiancé’s stomping around the apartment, slamming drawers and scowling.
He’s so unapologetically himself, he can’t be bothered to regulate his moods for five minutes while I’m talking to my friend—yet here I am, hiding things on his behalf?
The irony isn’t lost on me.
I get up from the couch and take a deep breath before I walk into the bedroom. When I do, I find Jeremy changing out of his suit. His pants are still on, but his belt’s undone, and he’s shirtless.
God , he looks good.
I wish I could jump him like Sam assumed I was going to. I’m desperate to feel that close to him again.
It’s strange to miss someone when they’re three feet away from you.
Jeremy takes a seat on the edge of the bed and acknowledges me with a nod as I inch toward him.
“What’s the matter?” I ask softly when I’m sitting next to him.