“Sorry. Come inside and warm up,” I murmur, the warm honey already beginning to dilute. To water itself down. This apartment never really felt like home until this moment when I encounter a surge of protectiveness. This is where I landed. Where I chose to make a new start. I don’t want to let go of that. I don’t want to upset the delicate balance of work and life and personal connections I’ve created. All of it is still so fragile.
Releasing Nicole, I let us into the building. She follows me down the hallway, our boots heavy on the cracked linoleum. I unlock my apartment door and hold it open for her, trying not to let it show on my face how exposed I feel.
“Oh wow. This is pretty decent.” She peels off her jacket, balling it up and holding it in front of her, instead of just setting it down. Sympathy prods me. I get that. I’ve only started leaving my things in various spots around the apartment this week, rather than corralled into one corner. One night at Aiden’s place, he pointed out that I’d been placing all of my belongings in one spot by the front door, tucked beneath a console table. In that same breath, he picked up my messenger bag and plopped it in the middle of his dining room table. Then he carried my shoes into his bedroom and set them at the foot of the bed.
Longing sweeps into my chest with spokes attached, making it hard to catch a breath.
“Yeah, it’s been a godsend, this place. I don’t know what I would have done without it.”
She eyes me as I remove my jacket, raising her eyebrows at the gold, designer key chain around my neck. Normally I keep it underneath my clothes, but I dressed in a hurry earlier. Being discreet about my relationship with Aiden was the furthest thing from my mind. “Yeah, I don’t know, Stella,” she laughs, reaching out to finger the necklace. “Even if you didn’t have this apartment, you would have figured out something, right? You’ve always been lucky like that.” She takes her hand back, tucking it under her armpit. “A lot luckier than me, that’s for sure.”
A tire iron sinks in my middle. I can’t remember when this started. When we went from children to adults who weighed their advantages. I just know that I came out on top and spent years and years trying to even the scales so we wouldn’t lose this friendship. So she wouldn’t feel lacking. So the differences between what we have or don’t have wouldn’t be noticeable and we could get back to that innocent place where we started. Where all that mattered was a five-dollar friendship bracelet and a couch on which to watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. Somewhere along the line, I started to realize that wasn’t possible, but by then I couldn’t stop sacrificing what I wanted to keep us close.
And now. Because of all the advantages I tried to play off or ignore, I feel guilty for anything good that comes my way. The job at Vivant, this apartment. Even Aiden.
“Yeah, I am lucky,” I say hoarsely. “You’re right.”
Me admitting that out loud surprises her, but she doesn’t show it for long. “What have you been up to?” She paces to the window and looks out at the street. “Where are you working? Must be good money if you’re buying gold necklaces.”
I start to tell her about Vivant, but hesitate. Then I close my mouth altogether. If I thought I was protective of this apartment, it’s nothing compared to the way I want to shield my beloved window boxes on Fifth Avenue. Jordyn and Seamus and the staff. Aiden. Oh my God, I would do anything to have my face pressed to his neck right now. Anything.
“You’re not going to tell me? Where you’re working is top secret information?” Nicole laughs, growing visibly affronted by my silence. My withholding of information. “Wow, it must be a big fucking deal, Stella. You must be super important.”
The years are stripping away and I’m nineteen again. I have something that’s dear to me now—my new start. Back then it was my secret online courses. My parents. She doesn’t even know where I’m working or what I’m doing yet and she’s already stripped it down to trivial. Once upon a time, I would have laughed. I would have agreed that something I loved was insignificant so she wouldn’t feel bad about not having found her passion yet. Or worse, not having the means to pursue it. But all I can do is stand here numb right now. The words won’t come. My heart won’t allow them.
“You don’t even want me here, do you? It’s obvious.” She’s rolling and rolling that jacket in her hands, the only giveaway that her tough as nails personality isn’t quite as hard as she makes it seem. “You don’t want me here interrupting your perfect life. All I’ve ever been to anyone is an interruption. I thought you were different but I guess I was wrong. I guess this friendship isn’t what I—”