Chapter Eighteen
I spend the next morning vacillating between “puttering” around the house, as my dad would call it—the whole time trying desperately to ignore my phone, still sitting on the counter—and rolling different versions of what I will text to Marina around in my head.
It’s fucking exhausting. My God.
Finally, after washing the stovetop, rearranging my kitchen cabinets, vacuuming the living room, and cleaning the bathroom until it sparkles like a gemstone, I let myself unplug my phone and take a look.
A missed call from my mother, a few photos from Chloe of a new pair of shoes she bought, and a text from Kya that simply says, You got this! with a smiling emoji.
“I got this,” I whisper into my empty kitchen. Then I walk into the living room and stand at the large bank of windows. Looks like a nice day, sunny with a bright blue sky—the sliver of it I can see, anyway—and my weather app tells me it’s already fifty-eight degrees.
Quickly, I open up a new text and address it to Marina, then I type before I can second-guess myself.
Hi. Gonna walk Reggie in Bryant Park off 6th Ave. in an hour. If you still want to talk, I’ll be near the Wafels I can feel her anxiety as well as her hope and her fear.
It’s weird and not like anything I’ve ever experienced before. I swallow.
“First and most important,” she begins, “I am sorry. I am so, so very sorry for the way I handled things, and mostly, I’m so sorry for cutting off all contact. I had my reasons at the time, but I know now that it was selfish, and it was hurtful. I apologize.”
“Okay,” I say. “I accept your apology.” I have questions and comments, but I also get the feeling she’s not done yet, so I wait.
“Second,” she says, then swallows and clears her throat twice and looks off at the Ping-Pong players.
She’s nervous. That much is obvious to me.
I wait her out, which isn’t easy. She’s clearly struggling with words, and I want to help her, but I also know this is her show, so I force myself to sit quietly.
When she finally turns so those dark eyes are locked on me, they’re filled with so much, and again, I see it all.
I feel it all. Worry, fear, hope, desire, they all collide in that rich dark brown. “Second, I’d like us to try.”
I give her another moment, but that’s all she says. I swallow and wet my lips. “Try what?”
“Try again. Being together.” She holds up a hand as though I’m interrupting her, even though I’ve said nothing. “Yes, it’s a little crazy, but there are some things you should know first.”
“Okay.”
“So, I’m not just here on vacation. I’m here on a work visa.”
Well, that’s a surprise. “Seriously?”
She nods, and her smile is wide and genuine. She’s proud of herself, and she should be.
“Marina, that’s great. Wow.”
Her smile grows, and that little flutter I used to get whenever she lit up is back, flitting around low in my body.
“It was something I have been working on for a while but never told you because I wasn’t sure it would come through.
But it did, and I came here to work for a food tour company here in the Big Apple.
” Spoken like a true tourist, and I smile at her.
“I’m not designing the tours—yet—but my boss is very open to my ideas, and he lets me be creative, so it’s working out really well.
At least I think so. I hope he does, too.
” At that, she makes a face with her teeth clenched, and it makes me laugh.
“I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before he has you making up the tours.”
She lifts one shoulder in a modest half shrug. “Maybe. But anyway, I’m here for a while, and I’d like to take you out. If you’ll let me.”
God help me, I can’t seem to find my anger.
I mean, it’s there, don’t think it’s not, but in all my fantasies about the possibility of seeing Marina again, I unload on her.
I unleash all the hurt and pain she caused.
I let her have it. But that’s not happening now, because goddamn it, I’m just so glad to see her. I’m not sure what to do about that.
“Take me out, huh?” I nibble on the inside of my cheek as she slowly lets herself smile.
“Yes. I have learned of some really great places. I knew New York was a”—she snaps her fingers, looking for the word —“heaven?”
“Haven.”