25. Gabe
25
GABE
I t was 12:17 p.m.
Brooklyn should have been done by now.
When he’d told me he didn’t want anyone to come and watch his defense, I’d accepted it. But there was no way in hell I wasn’t going to be waiting for him when he was finished. So, naturally, when he’d told me he’d be done by noon, I’d shown up at 11:30.
Sure, it was early. But I wasn’t going to risk not being there if he finished sooner than expected. Maybe that never happened, but I had nothing to compare it to, so how would I know? Brooklyn had been trying so hard to play the whole thing down. But I knew he was nervous, and I’d be damned if I let him get away without marking the occasion somehow.
Even if he did have to get on a plane right after this. Even if he said he wanted nothing more than to never think about his dissertation ever again. Today was a big fucking deal.
So by noon, I’d been there, ready. By 12:05, I’d stood up from the bench where I was waiting and paced back and forth in front of the building where he was presenting. By 12:10, I’d forced myself to lean casually against a lamppost, trying to infuse calm into my body with my posture. By 12:15, I’d gone back to pacing.
What was taking him so long? Was it a good sign if your defense ran late? A bad one? Or did it mean nothing at all, just that Jeff’s alarm hadn’t gone off, and they’d all gotten a late start? There was no way to know.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I pulled it out, wondering for a minute if it was Brooklyn. That wouldn’t actually make any sense—why wouldn’t he just walk out of the building if he wanted to find me?—but I wondered it all the same.
It was Niya.
“What’s up?” I asked, bringing the phone to my ear and maintaining my laser focus on the doors to the building in front of me. “And before you answer that, just as an FYI, if I hang up on you very suddenly, it’s because I need to go jump on Brooklyn and I’ll call you back.”
“Got it.” Niya laughed on the other end of the line. “You’re still in Savannah, right?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“On Chatham University’s campus?”
“Uh, yeah? Wait, did I tell you Brooklyn was defending today? How did you know that?”
“Standing in front of an old brick building, pacing back and forth like a crazy person?”
“Wait a second, are you—” I turned around and saw Niya standing behind me with a huge smile. I dropped the phone to my side and laughed. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Niya grinned as she walked over. “I got done early with my meetings in Charleston and I don’t fly out until tonight. I thought I’d come find you.”
“That’s insane.” I grabbed her hand. “I mean, I’m happy you’re here, though. Wanna come sit nervously on this bench with me?”
“I’d be delighted to.” She set her bag on the ground at her feet and looked at me seriously as we sat. “Gabe, happy as I am to see you, I didn’t just stop by for a visit. We need to talk about Paris.”
“Okay, hug first because I haven’t actually seen you in person for over a month. Then talk.” I pulled her in and gave her a kiss on the cheek for good measure. “I missed your face. Now tell me why—wait, what’s wrong?”
Niya’s face had gone from smiling to frowning in an instant, and her eyes were glued to something behind me. I turned, following her gaze, and saw Brooklyn standing just outside the building’s entrance. Our eyes met, and he stared at me for a long moment. Then he turned and walked quickly in the other direction.
“Hey, Brooklyn, wait up! Where are you going?” I jumped off the bench and jogged after him. He was walking fast, but there was no way I wasn’t going to catch him unless he started running. I grabbed his wrist when I caught up, and he glared and tried to shake me loose. “What the hell man? You’re not even gonna tell me what happened?”
“I passed. You can stop pretending to care now.”
“Pretending to care? What the fuck, dude, of course I care.”
“ Dude , I can literally see Niya sitting right there. You don’t have to lie about it.”
“Great, you can see her. Your eyes work. Congratulations. What the fuck difference does it make that she’s here?”
“Gabe, I saw you just now. You kissed her.”
“Oh my God, is that what you’re freaking out about?” I stared at him incredulously. “She’s here because of work stuff. Nothing else. Jesus, did you really think there was something going on between us? Still?”
“I—I mean—I thought—” Brooklyn sputtered to a stop and blinked. “You mean there isn’t something going on between you?”
“No, you dumbass. How could you seriously think that I would do something like that to you? I might be a bit of a bro, but I’m not an asshole.”
“Then what the hell have you been sneaking around about for the past few weeks? Always taking her phone calls in private, never telling me what the hell they’re about? I heard you last night. You specifically said there was something that, as far as you were concerned, I never needed to know about.”
“You have got to stop listening at doors.”
“Then you need to stop saying fucked up shit behind them. You used my name, Gabe. I heard it. Are you really trying to deny that?”
I sighed. “Fuck. No, I’m not denying it. Can we please talk about this, though, instead of you just storming off? Here, come with me.”
Brooklyn looked at me with misgiving but let himself be dragged across the lawn back to the bench where Niya sat, trying her hardest to look inconspicuous and not like she was in the middle of a lovers’ quarrel.
“Brooklyn, this is Niya. Niya, Brooklyn. Now that you’ve met face to face, Niya, will you please tell this idiot, my husband,” I threw a glare at Brooklyn for good measure, “that there is nothing going on between the two of us?”
Comprehension blossomed across Niya’s face. “Oh my God, no. Brooklyn, I am so sorry. I promise you, there is absolutely nothing between me and Gabe. I came here to talk to him about a work thing, because it’s kind of a big deal, and I thought it was a conversation better done in person. But that’s it, I swear.”
Brooklyn looked back and forth between the two of us, his expression softening from an angry glare into a suspicious frown. I supposed I’d take what I could get.
“What work thing?” he asked flatly. “Look, I don’t want to be a dick about this, but something’s obviously been going on for weeks that Gabe hasn’t wanted to talk about. So what is it?”
Niya raised her eyebrows at me, and I sighed. “It’s fine. Whatever you wanted to talk to me about, you can say in front of Brooklyn. We don’t keep secrets from each other.”
“We don’t?” Brooklyn cocked an eyebrow at me.
“Well, we shouldn’t, at least,” I corrected myself. “And it was my fault for not telling you about this sooner. Niya, you said we needed to talk about Paris. What’s up?”
“What’s up is that it’s almost definitely a no-go. Gabe, for the love of God, why didn’t you tell me you had an Instagram account devoted to your relationship—a public one, no less? And why didn’t you tell me you were married ?”
“Because I didn’t think it was important?” I squeezed Brooklyn’s hand. He frowned, but he didn’t pull away. “To the company, I mean. Why? What does it matter?”
“Because it’s a complete violation of company policy.”
“Gay marriage is a violation of company policy?”
“No, the Instagram account. The fact that you have celebrities tweeting about you, and that your faces are plastered all over the internet. Did you really think something like that wasn’t going to get around?”
I flushed. “I mean, we kinda knew it had. But I didn’t really think sixty-year-old executives spent a lot of time reading Buzzfeed .”
“ They might not. But their assistants do. And their assistants tell HR, and then HR tells me, and then I get stuck with the job of telling you that you’re violating BHT’s social media policy.”
“By posting photos of me and Brooklyn online? That seems a little draconian. It’s just pictures of us doing stupid shit.”
“And lying around in bed? Somewhat naked?”
“You couldn’t see anything.” I flushed. “And it’s not hurting anyone.”
“ I know that, but try to see this from BHT’s point of view. You have a huge platform now. A megaphone that you could use to share any and all views you might have, no matter how inflammatory. They’re terrified that you’re going to say something that will reflect badly on the company.”
“So what?”
“So they’re demanding that you take it down.”
“Or…?”
“Gabe, are you really willing to play with fire here? Your job could be on the line. If it’s an HR issue, it’s completely out of my hands. I wouldn’t be able to do anything to keep you. But I can already tell you, if you don’t shut the account down now, you can kiss Paris goodbye.”
“Well, that’s fine. I don’t want Paris. I’ve been telling and telling you that, but you’re not listening.”
“Will someone please explain what the fuck you guys are talking about when you keep mentioning Paris?” Brooklyn broke in. “Because I’m beginning—scratch that, I’m continuing —to feel totally fucking confused.”
“You really haven’t told him?” Niya looked at me and shook her head. “Gabe, why didn’t you at least talk to him about it?”
“Because I told you it was a non-starter, and I meant it.” I turned to Brooklyn. “That’s what I was talking about on the phone last night, by the way.”
“What is that ?” Brooklyn exploded. “You still haven’t explained.”
“Gabe’s been offered a promotion at BHT.” Niya gave Brooklyn a level look. “He’d be a manager. It would look great on his resume, and be an amazing chance to build his skills, and come with a not inconsiderable salary boost. And he’s turning it down without even interviewing for it because he says he won’t move without you.”
“You’re what?” Brooklyn turned and stared at me.
“I’m turning it down,” I repeated.
“But that’s—”
“Completely reasonable, given our situation.”
“Completely reasonable, my ass. That’s insane. You have to take it.”
“I think I’m gonna bow out of this conversation now,” Niya said, grimacing as she bent to pick up her bag. “I saw a little bakery in town, a couple of bookstores—I think I’ll go check them out. Gabe, I’ll be around until about three o’clock this afternoon if you want to talk. Then I’m headed back to Charleston.”
Brooklyn and I watched Niya in silence as she walked away. I turned back to him after she disappeared around the edge of the building, dreading the turn the conversation appeared to be taking.
“Can we sit down, please?” I begged. I tugged his hand as I sat on the bench, and after a moment and a reluctant look, he followed suit. I waited for him to say something. I was pretty sure anything I said at that moment was just going to piss him off.
“How long have you known about Paris?” Brooklyn asked after another minute of silence.
“About a week.”
“But you told me about the promotion—”
“A while ago, I know. It was just supposed to be in New York then. And I thought I might have been able to keep working remotely. I didn’t want to talk about it until I knew more. It wasn’t a done deal.”
“So where did Paris come from?”
I shrugged my shoulders helplessly. “It was just another opening. They’re promoting a bunch of people, apparently. And when the guy they were going to push to Paris fell through, Niya recommended me.” I shook my head bitterly. “She was so excited to tell me. She thought I was going to love it.”
“She should have been excited. Gabe, you should have been too. You should want this.”
“But I don’t. So it’s fine. I told her it wouldn’t work. You can’t very well come with me, not if you want a job in your field, and they wouldn’t let me work remotely. It’s as simple as that.”
“It can’t be. You love Paris. You baked fucking macarons from scratch on a whim. You think cooking coq au vin counts as a fun, easy meal to make. Fuck, you told me the night I met you that you wanted to move there and visit the Louvre every day for a month.”
“And I can still do that. Just not now. Not this year. It isn’t the right time.”
“But when will it be the right time?” Brooklyn turned to me, his eyes pleading. “Don’t you see? You’ve been so worried about getting stuck, about settling down before you even live your life. If you don’t take this job, that’ll be what happens.”
“Being with you is not getting stuck. Being with you is what I want.”
“You say that now, but a year from now? Hell, a month from now? I can’t let you do this.”
“I don’t see how you think you’re going to stop me.”
“You’re going to regret this. Please believe me, I know this seems like a good idea right now, but you’re not thinking straight. You’re only twenty-four for fuck’s sake. Your prefrontal cortex isn’t even done developing yet.”
“Don’t you dare throw biology at me. And don’t act like this is something you can distance yourself from. This is us , Brooklyn. Do you get that? If you’re telling me to take this promotion, you’re telling me you want to break up. Unless you’re really suggesting you want us to try to date long distance while you’re on the west side of the Mississippi and I’m on the east side of the Atlantic. Please don’t tell me you want that.”
“Of course I don’t want that,” Brooklyn whispered, his voice fierce. His hazel eyes burned into me. “But I don’t see any other choice. I’m not letting you throw your life away.”
“Being with you is not throwing my life away. How are you not getting that? Is it that fucking hard to understand that someone could want to be with you? Could want to spend the rest of his life with you?”
My voice choked on that last sentence. I knew tears were forming in my eyes. I could feel them threatening to spill over. I didn’t care.
“Gabe, I get it. I get it more than you could possibly understand. I’ve been where you are. I’ve done what you’re about to do. It almost ruined my life. Please don’t let me ruin your life, too.”
“How can you think that’s what this is?”
“Because it’s—”
“No.” I shook my head, interrupting him. “No. For one thing, you’re not a lying asshole like Cal. You’re a brilliant, amazing, hilarious, beautiful human being who would be fucking perfect if he didn’t hate himself so much, and for some reason, you seem to want to spend time with me . You think I want to let that go? You wouldn’t be ruining my life, Brooklyn. You’d be making it worth living.”
I took his hands in mine and squeezed them, trying to get him to see, to feel, some fraction of the certainty I felt.
“Please. Don’t do this. Don’t end this.” I exhaled slowly and closed my eyes for a moment. A tear spilled down my cheek when I opened them. “I love you.”
Brooklyn stared at me in silence, naked emotion warring on his face. I prayed that somewhere in that jumble, some shadow of what I felt for him was making its presence known. I prayed that somehow, it would be strong enough to win.
“No.” He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them and letting go of my hands. “No.” He said it more firmly this time. “I’m not going to let you do this. I can’t stop you from turning down that promotion. But I can stop you from turning it down because of me. We’re done, Gabe.”
“What?”
“It’s over.” His eyes were dull and cold now. “We’re not doing this anymore. I’m going to go to this interview at Redwoods College and when I come back, you need to find a new place to live. If you can’t, if you need more time, you can stay at the apartment, and I’ll stay at Jeff’s for a while. But we’re not going to be together anymore.”
“You can’t do that,” I breathed. “I can’t—I mean, you can’t—fuck, no. I don’t accept that.”
“It doesn’t matter if you accept it. A breakup doesn’t have to be a two-person decision.” Brooklyn’s lips twisted into a grimace. “In fact, it almost never is. But I guess this is new to you, isn’t it? If you’ve never dated someone, you’ve never broken up with them either.”
“Brooklyn, you can’t just—”
“Listen to me, Gabe.” His eyes bored into mine. “This is what a breakup feels like. It sucks, and even the person who initiates it usually walks away feeling terrible. You’re going to hate it. You’ll probably hate me, hate the whole world, for a while. That’s good. That’s normal. Use that anger and let it help you get over me. Because you will get over me, eventually. And I promise, someday you’ll thank me for this.”
He stood up, grabbing his laptop bag from the bench. I watched him, mute. Was this really how this ended? He turned to go.
“Wait! Wait, hold the fuck on a minute.” I stood up and grabbed his shoulder, made him turn around and look at me. “That’s it? You’re just done with us, that quickly? Have you forgotten that we’re fucking married?”
He threw his hands up. “What do you want me to do? Go back in time and undo that? You’re the one who proposed it in the first place. I never should have let you talk me into this, but we can deal with it when I get back. It was easy to get married in Georgia. I’m sure it’s easy to get divorced, too.”
“So that’s all this is to you? After all this time, being with me is something you wish you could undo? You’ll just sign some papers and wash your hands of it?”
“What do you want me to say? It was a bet. It was just a stupid bet. Yes, we had fun. Yes, I enjoyed it. But that doesn’t mean that we ever had a future together, and it sure as hell doesn’t mean that it makes sense to stay together now.”
“What about the money?”
“Fuck the money. Fuck Tanner and his fucking money. I never wanted it in the first place. He can have it and he can laugh all the way to the bank about how right he was about us.”
“I cannot believe you,” I hissed. “After everything that’s happened, you’re just going to walk away from this. From me. From us.”
“One of us has to.” Brooklyn shook his head. “And you can’t see that now. So it has to be me.”
“Brooklyn—”
“Goodbye, Gabe.”
He turned and walked away. I watched him walk the whole way down the road. He didn’t look back once.
“Holy shit,” said a voice behind me. “Shit dude, was that real?”
I turned, baffled, to see three teenagers, two guys and a girl, standing on the street behind me. With their phones out. Filming.
“Oh my God, it is real, isn’t it?” the girl said. “Look at his face.”
I wondered how long they’d been standing there. How much they’d seen, how much they’d captured. I had the strangest sense that I should care about the answers to those questions, but I realized, I didn’t.
Brooklyn was gone. And he didn’t want to see me when he got back.
I didn’t care about anything else at all.