I turn over in my bed and fluff up the pillow. I fold it over once and then in the opposite direction, trying to get comfortable. Itâs been an hour since I turned off the lights, and sleep is still nowhere in sight. Funny how thatâs been a problem since the night of the Wintersâ fall party.
My body might be tired, but my mind isnât. It spins. The pleasant wine-buzz Iâd gotten from drinks earlier with Jenna and Toby has disappeared, leaving me with a painful amount of clear-headedness.
Iâd told them I was no longer dating Isaac Winter. We came to a mutual decision, Iâd said. Itâs best to stay professional.
Jenna had frowned at that. Sheâd worn a yellow blouse, her lucky color, in preparation for a date she had after our drinks. âOh,â sheâd said.
âYou donât think we made the right decision?â
âI donât know,â sheâd said, and looked at Toby beside her. âMaybe you did. But I was rooting for this.â
Iâd had another sip of my wine and acted casual. âYou were?â
âYes. Well, not really because of him, because I donât know him.â
âWe know heâs deliciously handsome,â Toby had said. âSo, thatâs a pretty important point in his favor.â
Jenna laughed. âYes, definitely. He has that aloof hotness, you know?â
âThatâs exactly what it is,â heâd agreed.
Jenna had turned back to me. âBut my point was, I was rooting for it because of you. I think itâs great that youâre dating again.â
âWeâre just team Sophia getting some,â Toby said with a grin. âHe was a means to an end.â
Iâd rolled my eyes. âJesus, all right.â
âAnyway, if itâs over, itâs over.â Jenna had held up her wineglass to toast. âHereâs to moving onwards and upwards. Hey, you can even download the app Iâm using. We can become dating buddies!â
Iâd wriggled my way out of that one. But their enthusiasm about the whole thing, about something Iâd just wanted to breeze past, had gotten beneath my skin.
I turn over in bed again.
Maybe it would be easier to forget if I didnât have to see his name every day. Winter, it says in my documents and on my project folders. Winter, winter, winter.
Itâs not even my favorite season.
Damn him. Damn me. Damn all of it for happening and leaving me alone with the memory of it, unable to enjoy its sweetness. Every day something happens that I want to talk to him about. Work, tennis, life, the city.
Iâd been doing okay before Isaac.
Not great, maybe, but okay. Life was predictable and monotonous. But now that heâs passed like a storm thatâs breezed through a little town, everything feels out of place. Thereâs an absence now, a lack, where before there was just nothingness.
I turn onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. If only Iâd never invited him into my apartment and never let him sleep in this bed. Maybe then I wouldnât feel his absence quite so strongly.
My buzzer rings. The loud, piercing sound jolts me into sitting. Then it comes again, buzzing loudly from my living room.
Thereâs someone calling from downstairs.
Milo gives an offended little meow beside me on the bed. His eyes glitter in the near-darkness as he watches me get up.
âStay there,â I murmur. Unnecessarily, too, because he has no intention of moving. He tucks his face between his front paws and closes his eyes.
I walk to the intercom by my front door and click down the receiver button. âHello?â
âSoph?â a voice says. âIs that you?â
My anticipation turns to annoyance. âWhat the hell are you doing here?â
âSoph, please,â my ex-husband says. âI just want to talk to you. I have to talk to you.â
âNo, you donât.â
âYes. Please come down,â he says, voice too loud in my quiet apartment. âMeet me in the lobby.â
âGo away, Percy.â
âI wonât!â he says. âIâll stay here until morning, until you have to leave for work.â
Shit. I press down the receiver again. âFine, but youâre not coming in, and youâre leaving the second youâve said whatever stupid thing youâve come here for.â
âGood, Soph. That sounds good.â His words are fuzzy around the edges.
I march into my bedroom and pull on a pair of sweatpants. Then, I stick my feet in a pair of worn-out loafers and throw over a coat, hiding most of the mismatched outfit. Irritation burns like a flame in my chest.
Heâs never once come to my new place.
Sure, he must know the address, seeing as the moving company packed up all my stuff from our shared apartment and drove it straight here. But that was almost a year ago now. And while he called, and texted, and emailed nonstop in the beginning, he never came here.
I go downstairs. Percyâs standing by the front door of my building. His suit jacket is unbuttoned, and so are the first three buttons of his shirt. His hair looks mussed.
âSoph!â he says.
I open the front door. âWhat the hell do you think youâre doing?â
His smile turns into a frown. âIâm sorry, so sorry. I know you donât⦠I just needed to see you.â
âWell, here I am,â I say.
âYou look great,â he says. âI was out with the boys tonight, but I⦠I just couldnât stop thinking. I had to know, so I had to come here. Why, Soph?â
âWhy what?â
âWhy did you have to divorce me?â He puts a hand to his chest like heâs injured. âWhy did you throw it away, all of it? You, me, our home⦠our future.â
âYou canât be serious.â
âSoph, Iâm always serious.â
âYouâre never serious,â I say. âIf that was the single, stupid reason you showed up here drunk, then I want you to leave.â
âPlease, please, just⦠tell me. Explain it to me. I canât understand it. Iâve never been able to understand it.â
âYou,â I say, enunciating every syllable, âhad an affair. For months. With a woman we both knew.â
He shakes his head. âI know, and that was my mistake. And I was sorry for it. I told you that, over and over and over again. Why couldnât you just have forgiven me? Please, Soph⦠Iâm not happy.â
âThatâs not my problem anymore.â
He sighs like he didnât hear my words. Or maybe heâs just ignoring them. He was often good at that. âIâm not happy with Scarlett. She wants and wants and wants, all the damn time. Wants me to take her to places and wants us to get married. Iâm not happy⦠But Soph, I was happy with you. Youâre so smart, and youâre so good at teasing me, and you⦠God, youâre pretty, too. So damn pretty.â
âThe only thing youâve ever chased is happiness,â I say, âand only the short-term kind. Thatâs been your whole life!â
âYouâre right,â he says, nodding quickly. âYouâve always been right.â
âToo little too late, though, when it came to you.â
âI want you back. I want to be us again.â
âYou broke us,â I say, and I mean it. The words fall like a scythe through the quiet, unassuming lobby of my high-rise.
I want him out of it, and I want him out of my life.
He sighs. âI know, but Iâm sorry. Soph, Iâm sorry. That has to count for something. Iâd take it all back if I could.â
My voice hardens. âNo, it doesnât. Itâs been a year, and youâre having a baby with another woman. And Iâve already moved on.â
He takes a deep breath. And then another one. âYeah, with that man. It hurt me, seeing you with him. Is that what you want me to say? Is that the game weâve been playing these weeks?â
The words take the air out of me. Maybe that is what Iâd once wanted him to say. But not now. Not when Isaac and I were so much more than petty revenge.
âI donât want you to say anything. What I want is for you to leave.â
âDid you just use me?â His eyes have a glazed sheen to them. âDid you just want me to introduce you to society? Fuck, thatâs it, isnât it. I was a stepping stone. You just wanted bigger and brighter, and you got it. Mom warned me once,â he says and points a finger at me, âthat you were a gold digger. That she could see it in you.â
âFuck you,â I say.
He gives a half laugh. It rings false in the wide space. âThatâs it. Thatâs why you want him, the almighty, on-his-damn-high-horse Winter, king of the goddamn city.â
Anger flares inside of me like fireworks. âThe fact that you would say that to me proves you never knew me at all. You know what? It just proves one thing, that marrying you was the biggest mistake of my life.â
His face whitens. âYou donât mean that.â
âYes, I do. You cheated on me. You constantly degraded my career. You made me feel like a bad wife for wanting my own life, outside of us. You never once defended me against your mother. You didnât want me as I actually am,â I say. âYou wanted me to fit like a puzzle piece into your life instead of building a new one together.â
âWhat,â Percy says, voice venomous, âlike heâs so fucking perfect?â
âHeâs not. But he would never come to my apartment at midnight, drunk out of his mind, and accuse me of being a gold digger.â
Percy holds up his hands like this is too much. Like he canât believe what Iâm saying. âI gave you a life. I gave you everything.â
âExcept a loving and faithful husband,â I say. âExcept support and companionship. You know, Iâm glad you found your way into bed with Scarlett, and Iâm glad I saw it. Because you and I wouldnât have lasted anyway⦠and Iâm so damn glad I didnât waste more of my life on you.â
His chest rises and falls. âSoph,â he says. âFuck, youâre right. Youâre so damn right, and Iâm sorry. Iâm sorry and Iâm miserable.â
âI know. But itâs not enough. Can you tell me something? Honestly?â
He nods.
âIt wasnât just Scarlett, though. Was it?â
Percy turns still, like prey caught in the headlights. Thereâs no reply from his half open lips. But the answer is there in his drunken eyes, betraying him.
There had been others.
âYeah,â I say softly, âI figured. Goodbye, Percy.â
âWait.â He reaches out to grip my wrist, but I pull it out of his reach. âSoph, fuck, wait⦠This went all wrong.â
âYes,â I say. âIt did. Youâre going to be a father, Perce. You always said you wanted that. So focus on that, on your kid. Be the best dad you can be to that little baby, and start fresh. And if you ever come to my doorstep drunk like this this again, Iâll call the police.â
He takes a deep breath, and I can see him try to pull the fragmented, drunk segments of his mind back together. âYeah. Yeah⦠Youâre right.â
âLeave now. Please.â
He heads to the front door. But he pauses with his hand on it. âIâm sorry,â he says.
I know he means it, but not enough for it to matter. âGoodbye,â I say.
And I mean that enough for the both of us.
The door locks behind him, and I stay put, watching as he ambles away from my building. He gets in a cab, and it drives off, taking my past away. I had never needed him to fit into this city. Itâs my home, and Iâve made it mine all by myself. My relationship with New York is stronger than my marriage ever was.
Isaac had been wrong about one thing. Iâm not still in love with Percy. The love had dried up when I saw through the illusion, when that Peter Pan charm of his faded, and I found only immaturity and casual cruelty in its place.
But Isaac had a point, all the same. Because it was Percyâs shadow that lurked too large in my mind. It was him, and how he hurt me, and the fear of being hurt once again. And it was myself. I had lost me somewhere over the past couple of years, and Iâve just started finding myself again. And I know now that Iâll never give her up.
But Isaac isnât Percy.
Isaac isnât Percy.
And Iâm not who Iâd been a year ago, either. Like the cab heading up Manhattan, speeding back to a place Iâd once called home, itâs possible to let go of the past. To let it fade into a memory, nothing more, and be brave enough to create a new future.