I decide not to tell Aurora about what really happened at the interview and simply celebrate the fact that I have a job that pays over forty grand a year with benefits.
“I knew that you would get this job, I just knew it.” Aurora gushes over dinner at a swanky midtown restaurant that we avoided like the plague before tonight.
“Well, I wasn't so sure. It was really helpful that you had gone over some of those popular true crime stories that all the podcasts are covering,” I reassure her. “He really liked the pitch that I put forth.”
This part is true, even though the rest of what I told her is not. When our wine arrives, I promise myself that this is going to be the last time that I'm going to lie to her about anything. From this point forward, I'm only going to tell her the truth. Little did I know how difficult keeping that promise would turn out to be.
23
Aurora
Henry got the job. It's hard to believe. In fact, I'm still in shock over it. Why would Franklin hire my boyfriend to work for him? The only possible explanation is that he doesn't actually know that I am Henry's girlfriend.
I search my mind for everything that I told him and then for anything that my mother could have. No, I'm certain that if Franklin knew that Henry is my boyfriend, he would not have hired him. But then again…
What if he did?
I ask Henry for details of what happened in the interview and he becomes evasive. There is something that he's not telling me, but I have no choice but to let it go.
I'm happy for him. And after all, it's not just Franklin who made the decision to hire him. I'm certain that my father has had some amount of influence. Maybe, that's why. Maybe despite what Franklin wanted, my father had insisted that they give Henry the position to help me.
Despite the fact that I am happy that Henry’s now doing what he loves, and he really does love it, I miss our days off doing nothing. Well, not completely nothing. I'm still going to classes and working on my thesis, but I miss having him at home to hang out with.
After we were evicted from his apartment, my parents let us move into my old one, which they of course have not rented out like they said they would. They sent their assistant over to help us get settled, and the moving guys lugged all of our stuff from one place to another.
“I can't believe that you don't actually move when you move,” Henry said with a wide grin on his face.
I rolled my eyes. Honestly, the perks of being upper class have still not gotten old.
When we first make the move, everything is great. Henry works long hours, but we're trying to carve out whatever time we can in our schedules.
I miss him and he misses me and we make up for it with intense love-making sessions in the shower and in the kitchen and everywhere else, just like we did when we first moved in together.
But then, as the weeks turn into months, something changes. His hours get longer and longer as he works on one deadline after another. He starts to travel. At first, it's someplace local like Long Island or Albany or Rhode Island. But then his travels take him to Chicago and Iowa and even Nevada, and I don't see him for weeks on end.
When he does return, things are different. We spend time together, but we are out of sync. There are things that I do around the house that are in complete contrast to what he thinks I should be doing, and there are things that he does that annoy the hell out of me.
I keep telling him that we should reconnect and we promise to try.
We go on dates. At first, we go to the movies, dinner, and after a while, when we get really tired, we just Netflix and chill. The only problem is that after all this time apart the chill part is no longer a metaphor for sex. We curl up on the couch, each taking a separate side, and fall sleep, like old friends, or even worse, distant roommates.
Still, we stay together. We are going through what I assume is just a dry spell. It's bound to get better. People have been through a lot worse and have made it to the other side. But the more weeks that pass, the harder it becomes. With each trip, he gets further and further away from me until one day, I've had enough.
“I don't think that we should live together anymore,” I say when he gets home from his trip to Nebraska.
“What are you talking about?” he asks.
“I don't know, but I don't feel like we're a couple anymore. Do you?”
“Listen, I'm really tired,” he says, shaking his head. “I just took the red-eye home and I can't talk to you about this right now.”
I know that this is the wrong time to bring it up, but I've been thinking about this ever since he's been gone and I didn’t want to talk about it over FaceTime.
“Can we get back to this tomorrow?” he asks.
I give him a slight nod and open my computer back up. I have so much work to do on my thesis, and yet I can't seem to focus. I haven't written a word in two weeks.
The following morning, he sleeps in late, and I go to class. When I get back, he's no longer there. Franklin has asked him to cover a breaking story.
“That's the gist of the text message that I got,” I tell Ellis over dinner.
I've called three other friends, but no one was available to talk. Ellis who had just broken up with her boyfriend was more than happy to go out on a girls’ night and have a few drinks and rag on some guys.
“He's an asshole,” she says quickly.
I shrug. “He's just working too hard and this job is taking over his life.”
Ellis shakes her head. “All the guys in this city are the same,” she insists. “I used to date a hedge fund manager, and he only came over to fuck. Actually, come to think of it, it was probably one of my most honest relationships.”
I laugh nervously, too embarrassed to tell her that it has been months since Henry and I have done it. At first, it was just the one thing that kept us together and gave our relationship some spice and then it was the thing that drove us apart.
I had so many resentments toward him for being away, the last thing I wanted to do was to have sex with him when he got back.
“I'm sure it will get better,” Ellis says, not very convincingly. “Either that, or maybe you should just dump him and find someone without a high-powered job.”
“That's the whole problem,” I say. “I'm glad that he is pursuing his dreams, but I just wish that he had a little bit more time for me in the process.”
“What can I say?” Ellis asks. “You know how I feel about guys, what one man can do another can as well.”
It’s a cynical way of thinking about relationships but then again, Ellis doesn't get hurt easily, so maybe she's on to something.
Still, I don’t want to give up. Not this easily and not without a fight. My phone vibrates and I look down at the screen.
“I need to talk to you,” Henry texts and I pay my bar tab.
When I get home, I brace myself for another fight disguised as a disagreement, but he surprises me. He takes me into his arms and kisses me and tells me that he's going to be better and that he will make it all good again. I take him back and our bodies fall into that familiar dance.
He runs his fingers up and down my sides and makes me feel alive. I try to protest, but my legs open up for him on their own.