Chapter Seventeen
The door to the apartment opens and Emmy greets me, happier than ever.
She’s dressed in an elegant, black evening dress that compliments her frosty blue eyes and red lipstick perfectly. I watch the light bouncing off her glossy shoulders, the way her seductive collarbones seem to be poking through the skin. She looks stunning, as always.
When she throws her arms around my neck, the familiar scent of vanilla and cherries envelops me like a warm blanket. “Wow, is this a special occasion?” I ask, mesmerized. “You look … incredible, Emmy. I mean, you always look incredible. But tonight, it seems like you’ve walked straight out of a movie.”
She grins and tucks a strand of silky black hair behind her ear. “You look amazing as well! Like always!” She compliments me, even though I’m only wearing a pair of jeans and a brown T-shirt.
“I wasn’t aware that I was supposed to dress up. I’m sorry,” I tell her, and watch as she walks away toward the kitchen to set down the cake and wine bottle I brought.
The backless black dress she’s wearing forms a sharp but loose V shape that reveals her creamy skin. The satin and slick fabric moves when her body does, creating the illusion of water or black smoke around her gorgeous body, making my mind swirl and my thoughts turn to desire.
“Don’t be silly! There was no need to dress up. I just threw this on!” she says, and I have the vague feeling that she’s trying to flirt with me. Again.
“Shall I open the bottle of wine, then?” I ask her.
“Yes, please. I’ll cut the cake. I also have some pizza that I ordered. If you’re hungry.”
“I’m not hungry right now. I would like a glass of wine, though,” I tell her as I work on the bottle.
“Sure.” She watches me open the wine with a strange expression on her face.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yeah! Actually, everything is more than alright.” She smiles. “Let’s go to the balcony, shall we?”
“To the balcony? What’re we going to do there?”
“Come on!” She takes me by the hand and leads me through the living room and toward the open door of the balcony, where she’s set up a small round table, two chairs, and what looks like a few hundred candles.
As we step onto the balcony, I’m hit with a pleasant aroma and golden light that’s very relaxing. I help her take a seat and then position myself across from her.
“Do you like it?” Emmy asks me.
“It’s … different from what we usually do, isn’t it? But yes, of course. Thanks for going to all this trouble. But you shouldn’t have, Dolly. Is today a special occasion, or something?”
“No, no. We just haven’t seen each other in a bit, and I thought I should make it nice.”
Even though she keeps saying nothing special is happening, I can tell that she’s anxious.
In one go, she drinks half the wine glass and then gives me a big smile. “I love this wine!”
“Yes, it’s a great vintage,” I reply.
She clears her throat to signal that she’s about to speak, and I allow her, curious to know what all this production is about. “So, Evan … I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between us the last time we saw each other. You know, when we kissed and then went to dinner and you … asked me if I wanted to honor the marriage pact.”
She sums up the events as if I wasn’t there, pouring my heart out to her.
“Yes, I’ve been thinking about what happened as well,” I confess.
“That’s great! I’m glad that those … events have been on both our minds.”
“Yes. That’s actually one of the reasons why I came here tonight—because I wanted to talk to you about it. I know, I know, you’re going to say ‘we’ve been talking about it forever,’ but, I think we should.”
“I think that’s a great idea, Evan. I really hated the way we left things, and I’d like to talk about it again.” She smiles broadly, running her fingers against her collarbone, and further across to her shoulder. She’s playing with the thin strap of her black dress and part of me thinks that she’s doing it on purpose. As some sort of signal or an understated way of flirting. “Evan, I meant what I said that night. I do care about you so much. You have no idea just how much. And I want you to be happy.”
Under the table, her leg brushes against mine and lingers there.
I can feel its weight, the fragrant skin that is just begging to be caressed.
“Thank you, Emmy. I agree. And even though we might not be … a couple … we are still the two best friends the world has ever seen, right?”
She leans across the table, beautiful and enticing and looks into my eyes. “Absolutely!”
“I’m so grateful that you want me to be happy. So, one of the things that I wanted to tell you tonight is that … I’ve started dating Carol.”
She freezes for a moment, suspended both in time and space in front of me.
It’s as if her whole being has ceased to function.
She doesn’t blink, she doesn’t breathe, her mouth is slightly open, and even her hair has stopped swaying in the gentle breeze of the balcony.
“Wh—what did you just say?”
“I’ve started dating, well, seeing Carol,” I repeat.
“Oh.”
“Yes. After what happened between us, I took a little time off to think about this whole thing. And you know what I realized?”
“What’s that?” she asks coldly.
“That things between us have gone way too far. You were right. We’re best friends, and there’s no need to risk what we have for what could very well turn out to be a fling.”
“Mhm.”
“At the same time, as painful as it may be for me, I finally realized that you never wanted me or desired me. I know that you love me, of course—we’ve been part of each other’s lives since we were children. And I’m certain that your love for me exists and that it’s strong.”
“Sure.”
“But, that’s not what I want, Emmy. I want love. In the true sense of the word. I want sparks and fireworks. I want passion and yearning!”
“With … Carol,” she says before getting up from the small table on the balcony and retrieving the bottle of wine. She pours herself a full glass of wine and drinks it as if it’s water.
“With … someone that wants me back.”
“Sure. But … Carol?”
“That’s not really the point, Em. I just meant that I finally understand that things between us went too far. We were so close to ruining our friendship and for what?” I laugh.
“For the marriage pact?? What happened to the marriage pact, then?” she asks me.
“Emmy, that was a deal we made when we were in high school.”
“So, you didn’t mean it? Then why did you ask me to honor it at the restaurant, Evan? What would’ve happened if I had said yes?”
“I did mean it. I meant it every time I asked you. I meant it back then, in high school, when we first sealed it, and I meant it at the restaurant. But I finally realized that I cannot do this with someone who doesn’t want me. And you made that very clear.”
Her face flushes, perhaps because of what I’m telling her, perhaps because of the wine she keeps drinking. “And Carol wants it, right? Of course, she does. She told me so. She wants to marry you. Gosh, Evan. Is that what this is all about? Are you having some kind of midlife crisis? Do you just want to get married?”
“Emmy, I’m about to turn thirty. You don’t go through a midlife crisis at thirty. And no, I’m not obsessed with getting married. These are just conclusions that you’re drawing out of nowhere. Or out of that wine glass. Look, the point is that you were right. I’m telling you that you were right! Things between us took a dangerous turn that could’ve jeopardized our friendship. I finally see now that there was no point, especially since you didn’t feel the same way about me.”
She shoots me a dirty look across the small table. In the low light cast by the golden candles, I try to make out what she means, but I’m having a hard time. “What if … what if I changed my mind? Did you ever think about that? No! Of course, not! Here you are, then, with Carol, no less!”
“Emmy, I am not a toy that you can just put down and childishly think it’ll still be there when you want to play with it again.”
She drinks more of her wine.
I reach across the table and take the glass away from her. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
I start to laugh softly, not at her, but at the situation.
“Do you think this is a joke?” she asks me.
“Obviously not. But I do think that this is ironic. How I was the one to come up with the marriage pact and then ask you over and over again if you want to honor it. And now, here we are, the tables turned, and you’re lording the marriage pact over me.”
“Mmm. Yes. Very interesting,” she says sarcastically.
“Dolly…”
We spend the next few minutes in silence.
I watch the dark sky over Boston but there’s nothing to see.
There are no stars, only a vast sea of darkness over us, hiding our dreams and our future.
Finally, I decide to speak. “I thought this is what you wanted.”
She doesn’t even look at me. “Like I said, I’m happy if you’re happy. That’s all that matters.”
“That’s good to hear. As always, you’re a good friend, Emmy.”
“What do you even talk about with her? I mean, I’ve been working with her for the past three years and … goodness there’s…” Emmy stops herself before finishing the sentence.
She suddenly realizes that now Carol’s status has changed. She’s no longer just Emmy’s friend from work but my girlfriend. As a result, she can’t say what she wants about her.
“We talk about many things. I’ll admit that she has some weird opinions about some stuff but, overall, she’s a nice girl.”
“What do you mean, weird opinions?”
“She tried very hard to convince me that boxing is a good idea because it’s what keeps hospitals open. She has this conspiracy theory going on that boxing is good business for hospitals. I tried to tell her that’s not how this works but—”
“And you’re still dating her after this?” Emmy asks me.
“Like I said, she’s a nice girl.”
“That’s what you’re looking for, then? A nice girl?”
I sip my wine and ponder her question for a moment. What I’d really like to tell her is that I’m looking for someone different—someone that doesn’t remind me of you. Because my heart can’t stand it. I need someone in my life who is as different from you as possible.Someone with a different face, a different body, and a different voice. Someone who doesn’t have scorching blue eyes and who doesn’t wear red lipstick. Someone who doesn’t smell like vanilla and cherries, the scent of my dreams, someone who is just … different. Because my heart can’t have you.
But I can’t tell her that. So instead I say, “I’m looking for … I don’t know. This is all so complicated, to be honest. I don’t have any plans, either. I just want to see where this goes.”
She nods and leans back into her chair.
“What about you, then? What are your plans?” I ask her.
Emmy looks at me stunned as if she has never even thought about this. “My … plans?”
“Yes. Are you going to start dating someone?”
“I … haven’t thought about it.”
“Maybe you’ll meet someone at Larisa’s wedding,” I tell her.
The thought alone makes me sadder than I’ve ever been in my entire life. Emmy has had plenty of other boyfriends come and go over the years. But now, after everything that’s happened between us, I can’t look at it the same way. Now, it just hurts.
“Is that what you want for me?” she asks me. “To meet another guy?”
The silence between our hearts is louder than ever. She can read my pain like an open book, I know that.
“Emmy … do you want to know the truth?”
“Yes, please.” She leans again across the table and looks into my eyes, but I can’t read the expression fixed there.
“I guess that all my life, since I’ve known you, and since we made the marriage pact, I hoped that somehow, somewhere down the line we would … end up together. It was like a safety net. I knew that we were supposed to live our lives together, no matter what. Sure, there would be speed bumps along the way—the occasional boyfriend and girlfriend. And we had a lot of growing up to do. We had to find ourselves. But I always thought that we’d end up as … husband and wife. Emmy and Evan,” I tell her.
She lowers her head and the dark silky strands of hair fall across her face.
I reach out and tuck them behind her ear.
She smiles and rests her face, only for a moment, against my open palm.
I wish this moment could last forever and that this dinner would have a different meaning.A better one. A happier one.
“I never thought this is how our story was going to end. Me with someone else and you with someone else. And now that it’s done, I feel so … empty. But I understand that this is how it must be, and that it will take a while to get used to. Still, it’s almost as if I refuse to believe it,” I tell her.
“I think I know how you feel. Maybe I felt the same way,” she tells me. “Time is a tricky thing. Especially with a friendship like ours. How do you walk away? How do you tell your heart to start feeling something else?”
We look at each other across the table, the vast night and nothingness surrounding us.
“Then it’s decided. We’ve reached the end of our little saga,” I tell her.
“I suppose we have.”