I don't know how long I stay there. Eventually, I force myself up to my feet. I know that I'm pathetic, but with my heart shattering into a million little pieces, how should I act?
Should I just pretend that I'm fine?
Should I punch someone in the face?
Is that what a better man would do?
No, the only way out is to go through the pain, not around it, not over it, just directly through it. I know that, but that doesn't make it any easier.
I want to follow Aurora again.
I want to force her to tell me what happened.
I want to force her to take me back.
But sometimes, you reach this point and you just know that you can't push the other person any further.
I know her enough to know that what she said back there is her truth. The only way that I can find out what is really going on is by letting some time pass and to heal a little bit.
When I first got to New York and I saw her at her apartment and I followed her to that bookstore, I didn't want to approach her because I didn't want the last conversation that we had to be a breakup.
Unfortunately, I didn't listen to my own advice.
Now, we didn't just break up over the phone, she also dumped me in real life.
There goes another regret to add to that gigantic pile of regrets that is my life.
I pick up my phone and scroll through social media. When that's not enough of a distraction, I open the news app. Hours pass and I don't feel any better, but I do become too numb to process anything bad in any real way.
Then my phone rings. His name pops up on the screen: Jackie.
I'm tempted to let it go to voicemail, but I answer anyway. After a brief hello, I tell him that I'm actually in the city if he wants to get a drink.
Jackie Peterson is a friend of mine from Montauk. He was a year behind me in school and we weren't that close until after graduation.
It takes Jackie an hour to get to the bar I suggest and I'm already on my third glass of scotch.
"I don't drink anymore," he says, taking the seat next to me.
I raise my eyebrows at that revelation.
Jackie is the kind of guy who was always down for a good time.
"What are you talking about?" I ask.
He shrugs and orders a Coke with a wedge of lemon.
"Is it because you're working?" I ask.
"Well, I'm not supposed to drink on the job, but no it's not because of that. I quit drinking, and everything else, 375 days ago.” He laughs.
"Wow, that's kind of a precise number."
"Yeah, I don't miss it one bit," he says, his voice drenched in sarcasm.
"Uh-huh.” I nod.
"I'm just kidding," he adds. "In reality, you kind of count the days when it's the only thing you can think of when you wake up in the morning and when you go to bed at night and every other waking moment of the fucking day."
I look down at my glass and finish it quickly so as not to tempt him anymore. After handing the bartender my credit card, I invite Jackie for a cup of coffee.
"It's nice to see you again," Jackie says, taking a sip of his espresso at the shop on the corner. "What are you doing these days?"
"Working as a reporter," I say with a shrug. "I'm actually in town just for one day and I have to go back to Kentucky."
"Oh, really?" he asks. "I had no idea."
I expect him to ask me more about the type of stories that I'm working on, but when our eyes meet, I can see that he has something else on his mind.
Jackie is a tall guy with dark thick hair and broad shoulders and he can be quite charming and attractive, and the worst part is that he knows it.
He gives me a crooked smile and a wink.
"What is that?" I ask, sitting back in the big leather chair.
"Well, I've heard the rumors," he says slowly, savoring each word.
"What are you talking about?"
"About Aurora Penelope Tate," he says, enunciating each consonant in her name.
"I had no idea that you were so up on the gossip.” I smile.
"Well, you know how it is, one of your old high school buddies starts dating an heir to a multi-billion dollar fortune and people start talking."
"There's nothing really to talk about," I say with a sigh. "We broke up."
"I'm sorry to hear that," he says, "but you knew that was going to happen, right?"
I shrug.
"Seriously?"
"Yes, this is the face of a man who knew that things weren't going to work out," I say.
"Okay, maybe not, but you didn't really expect to marry her, did you?"
His question takes me by surprise.
I stare at him, unsure as to how to react.
"Henry, come on man, tell me that you were just having a good time."
"I can't," I say, shaking my head. "That's the thing. Maybe I'm just an idiot but yes, I did think that we were going to end up together."
"No shit! Are you serious? I mean, were you two that serious?"
I give him a slight nod and look down into the blackness of my cup.
"That's why I'm in New York," I say. "I mean, we officially broke up earlier, but I flew all the way back here to try to make things right and she didn't want to hear it."
"Wow, I'm such an asshole," Jackie says, sitting back against his chair.
"Yes, you are."
"I really didn't mean to say any of –”
"Don't worry about it," I interrupt him.
"I'm-"
"Listen, let's just drop it. I don't really want to talk about it."
"I'm really sorry about this, man," Jackie says, putting his hand on my knee.
"Don't worry about it," I mumble.
I appreciate his support, but I'm a bit embarrassed at the same time.
Jackie and I aren't the types of friends to talk about anything serious that's going on in our lives. I feel dumb telling him all about any of this.
Also, I don't want him running back home and blabbing to everyone that we both know about how pathetic I am.
"That's really fucked up, man," Jackie says, finishing his coffee. "I wonder if that had anything to do with what happened to her dad."
I look up at him, my ears starting to buzz.
"What are you talking about?" I ask.
"Well, it was all over the news."
"What was?"
"I thought that you knew."
"No, I don't fucking know," I snap.
"Her dad got arrested," Jackie says. "They even had a perp walk for him."
I stare at him, dumbfounded.
"Perpetrator walk?" I ask.
"Yeah, you know, when the cops specifically call the media and walk the accused past the press so everyone can get those pictures and videos of him in handcuffs with his head hanging low."
"Yes, I know what a perp walk is," I say, urging him to continue. "What was he arrested for?"
"That I'm not so sure about," Jackie says. "Insider trading, I think. Isn't that the only thing that the rich elite ever get arrested for?"
I shake my head, uncertain as to what to think.
"There's more."