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“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.”
