nd me at the restaurant, he saw me back home. He even paid for the cab.
His car, he told me, was somewhere in New Jersey, carrying Leila and all of the stuff she wanted to take with her. Or, to be more accurate, all the stuff she wanted to take that the movers didn’t take themselves.
About the last thing in the world I ever wanted to do, especially in the presence of that guy, was cry, but there I was, sobbing.
When we got up to the apartment, there was a note on the table. Mike said he’d be downstairs, smoking a cigarette, and that he’d press the buzzer in a few minutes.
I heard him, but I didn’t answer. I was engrossed in the note.
It read:
“Dane,
I can’t begin to tell you how much our time together has meant to me, but I think we need to be realistic. Yes, I have feelings for you and yes, it might even be love, but you’re not ready to leave New York, and I can’t stay there. I really hope you understand.
It’s been so long since I’ve had a glimmer of what we’ve shared, and I thank you for that. I know this isn’t going to be easy for either of us right now, but it’ll be the best thing for both of us in the long run.
Thank you for making my fantasies come to life. I will never forget you.
—Leila”
And that was it.
And here we are.
Mike’s still downstairs smoking. I don’t know, maybe he left. It’s been about half an hour.
I don’t know if I’m sober or drunk. I don’t even know what I’m feeling right now, only that it’s the worst thing I’ve ever felt.
This is the worst day of my life.
The buzzer snaps me out of my trance for a moment, and I walk over and press the button.
“Yeah?”
“Hey,” Mike says, “it’s me. Mind if I come up for a few minutes?”
I don’t answer, but I do press the unlock button.
Really, I don’t want to talk to Mike right now.
I get why he did what he did; she is his friend, and he was doing what he asked her to do. I can’t hate him for that, but I hate the situation. Right now, that situation is embodied in him.
There’s the knock on the door. I just call out, “It’s unlocked.”
Right now, I’m trying to force an answer to the question of inebriation.
Thank God I remembered to go to the liquor store.
“How are you doing?”
“Did you read the note?” I ask.
He’s quiet.
That’s a yes.
“How long have you known that this was how she was going to do it?”