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“On your say so I’m sure. Goodbye, Jordan,” I say as I get into the elevator. I peer down at my flip flops, not wanting to see the tortured look on his face. The last thing he says to me before the doors close is my name, and it tears me apart. I start crying as the elevator descends.
Outside in the June heat, I start walking, then stop to dig in my purse for a tissue. Several people glance at me as they walk by, but this is Manhattan, and most people don’t pay attention. I’m about to cross the street when Albert pulls up in a black Mercedes sedan.
“Miss Stanford, let me give you a ride.”
“Albert, I don’t want anything from Jordan.”
“This isn’t from Jordan; it’s from me. Get in.”
I wipe my nose and step towards the car. Albert quickly steps out and opens the back door for me to the blare of horns from vehicles behind him. He jumps in after I’m secure and pulls away from the curb just before the light turns red.
“Miss Stanford, can I say something?”
“Please call me, Emma. I’m not used to such formality.”
“Emma, then. I think you’re making a mistake not giving Jordan the benefit of the doubt.”
“Albert, he lied to me. He should have told me the truth from the beginning. I feel used.”
“He’s not using you. He’s in love with you.”
“Excuse me if I don’t believe that. He’s barely known me two weeks. That’s not enough time for someone to know if they’re in love with a person.”
I try to keep my voice steady, but the revelation shakes me. When Jordan said he thought he was in love with me a week ago, he was speaking the truth. I thought I heard him wrong because I was more than half-asleep.
“Jordan has a very complicated life, but he knows what he wants. He has no time to toy with people. He loves you, Emma. You have to believe me. I can only guess what you leaving is doing to him. He rarely loses.”
“He can’t control people. He wants to control me. I can’t have that. I spent so much time, depending on the people that I got used to it. Now that I’m trying to be independent, here comes someone who wants to strip it from me.”
“Do you care about him?”
“I did. I’m not sure if I can any longer.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. You should give him a chance.”
“I gave him a chance, and he fucked it up.”
As we drive through the city, Albert keeps talking to me about Jordan. I realize that this man loves him like a father would a son.
“Albert, how long have you known Jordan?”
“Since he was a child. He was always hardworking and caring. We lived next door to the Graysons. My wife passed away, and shortly after, the limo company I worked for went bankrupt. Jordan was the one that approached me with a job. By then, he was in his first year in business. When his father died, my wife and I were there for him, and he returned the favor many times over. I owe him a debt of gratitude.”
Albert pulls the sedan in front of my building. The renovations continue to the front as a new awning has been added, and the doors have been replaced. I say goodbye to him, and as I walk towards the door, it pops open, and a man in a uniform tips his hat at me. When the hell did we get a doorman?
Inside, the lobby is taking shape. A desk has been erected against the wall opposite the elevators. An electrician is running wires underneath it as I head upstairs. Even though our building is rent-controlled, I wonder if this is the end. I can’t afford to pay more rent, and I don’t want to burden Nate with the extra expense. He’s been so good to me already.
I start crying again as the doors open on my floor. I’m blinded by my tears and fumble my keys in the lock, dropping them and my purse just inside my apartment. I sink to the floor and hug my knees. I feel the loss of Jordan, but he isn’t for me. Our lifestyles aren’t the same. He won’t have any problem finding someone that’s a better fit—me, I’m not so sure if there is anyone that will make up my other half.
Sunday, and I feel horrible. After I got home, I ate two pints of the salted caramel gelato I had in the freezer while I binge-watched reality television until three in the morning. It’s not sitting right in my stomach.
When Nathaniel calls, shortly after I wake up at noon, I snap at him.
“Damn baby girl, what the fuck is your problem? I just called to say hello.”
“I’m sorry, Nate. The last twenty-four hours have been shit.”
“What happened?”
