Peter was at his best when he was at home with his family, although of course Ari and Peter never made love when they were there. He played driveway basketball with his younger brother and his dad and hugged his mom all the time. He would be a good husband and father, Ari decided. He liked being part of something, liked teamwork, liked making his sister laugh and his father praise him and his mother force one more piece of her special chocolate cake on him. The Anderson family was so unlike Ari’s, it made her envious. When she took Peter home to celebrate New Year’s Eve, her mother had been unusually sweet and attentive, no doubt thrilled that Ari was with a man who intended to go into the law. Ari’s father was welcoming in his normal vague way. Phillip Paget was a surgeon, which impressed Peter and his parents, but when he was at home, he seemed to melt. It was as if all the energy had been drained out of him by his exacting work. Ari privately thought her father was simply exhausted, defeated, from living with his social-climbing, money-hungry, seldom-satisfied wife. Ari was certainly wearied by her mother.
But Ari had never felt madly, crazily, hopelessly in love with Peter. Each year, each month, Peter grew bossier, more arrogant, and less pleasant. She was quite sure she didn’t want to spend her life with him. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she didn’t want to live in misery.
Ari needed to break up with him now. She had to be quick and decisive, kind but unyielding. She’d tried several times to do it gradually, and that had never worked.
There he was, standing beneath a cherry tree, smiling.
Peter caught sight of her. He ran a few steps to catch Ari in his arms. “Hey! We’re almost outta this burg.”
She shook off his hands and stepped back. Thank God no one else was within hearing distance. Her heart thumped hard with anxiety, and when she spoke, she was almost breathless. Her words flew out in a hurried flutter. “Peter, listen to me. I have to tell you. I can’t marry you, Peter. No—I don’t want to marry you. I’ve been thinking and thinking, and we’re wrong for each other. I’m breaking up with you.”
Her hands were clasped in front of her as if she were Queen Elizabeth giving a speech. She didn’t want to touch him.
Peter froze. After a moment, he grinned. “This is a joke, right?”
“No. No joke. I’m sorry. I don’t love you, Peter. I don’t want to have a life with you.” She knew him so well. She could see how he clutched his hands into fists at his sides, as he always did when something was unfair. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“Well, I never meant to be hurt,” Peter replied, without a hint of sarcasm. “Ari, come on. I can’t believe what you’re saying.” He shook his head. “We…we’re going to get married.”
Peter reached for her hand. Ari moved away quickly, sitting sideways on a bench, drawing her legs up to her chest, making herself as small and as untouchable as possible. “I’ll take care of canceling the wedding arrangements,” she told him.
“That’s certainly big of you. I feel much better now.” Peter paced up and down the bricks, running his hand through his thick red hair. He stopped in front of Ari. “I had no idea. You gave me no warning.”
“But I did, Peter. You just never listen to me.”
“Come on, Ari. Don’t be like this.”
“Please, Peter, you know I’ve been wanting to tell you. I’ve told you I needed to talk to you, but you always said ‘later’ or that you don’t have the time.”
“You do realize it’s rather normal to be busy and distracted during the month you graduate from college.” He had slipped into his terribly superior, I’m better than you are mode of speaking.
“Peter, get real. You know you never gave me a chance to talk with you.”
“So we’re talking, and this is what you have to say?” Peter’s voice went bitter. “What’s happened? Have you met someone else?”
“I haven’t met someone else. I just know I don’t want the life you envisioned.”
“We envisioned.”
“No. It was all you. Law school, living in New York City. I don’t want that kind of life. I don’t want that speed of life. Cocktails and social climbing and competition. The terrible pressure. The lack of sleep, working twenty-two hours a day, trying to be, oh, I don’t know, cunning. I’ve told you that so many times, Peter.”
“You’ve been worried about it, yes, but I promised you it will be okay. More than okay—it will be great!”
“Peter, listen. I don’t want to be married to a man who’s always plotting, conspiring to win at a corporate battle, greedy for more money, a bigger office—all of that.”
Peter sat down on a bench across from her. He was thinking, she knew. He was trying to turn this to his advantage. “You’re just afraid.”
“Oh, God, Peter.” Ari started to laugh at how he’d come up with a way to twist her words. But she stopped herself. Let him have it. Let him believe she was too shy, too unsophisticated, to tolerate living in the city with a husband who was working for a top-notch corporate law firm. “I suppose you’re right,” she said softly.
Now she could go. Now she could leave him, and he would feel that somehow he had won.
To her surprise, Peter came over to her bench and lifted her hand. “Ari, we all get nervous. We all get stage fright. But you can do it, I know you can, and I’ll help you. You’re halfway there. Your father is a surgeon. Your family has a house on Nantucket. You’re beautiful, and smart—you underestimate how smart you are. I’ve always told you that you should major in something more important than childhood education.”
Ari pulled her hand away. “And I’ve always told you there is nothing more important than childhood education. You’ve just never believed me.”
“Ari, that’s minor stuff, nothing to break up over.”
“Childhood education is not minor stuff.”
“For God’s sake, Ari, I’ll be making hundreds of thousands of dollars. You’ll be making pennies.”
“I’ll be making a difference,” Ari said quietly.
“You’ll be making mud pies,” Peter shot back haughtily. The moment he spoke, he squinted in a kind of discomfort, as if he knew he’d said the wrong thing.
Ari let the silence linger while they both absorbed the impact of their conversation. Finally, quietly, Ari said, “Listen to yourself. We aren’t right for each other.” She slid her engagement ring off her finger and handed it to Peter. Pushing herself off the bench, Ari rose. “I honesty, seriously, hand over heart, do not love you, Peter. I’m sorry, but it’s true.”