“‘The fool doth think he’s wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.’ Shakespeare. He’s my man.” Based on Leon’s past, it’s amazing how well he knows Shakespeare and freaky how much of the ancient prose he has memorized.
“I don’t even know what that means,” I admit. I wasn’t much for literature in school. If Patti Lyndowski hadn’t sat next to me, I’d never have passed most of my English classes in high school.
“It means only a wise man can admit when he’s been a fool.”
“If that’s supposed to comfort me, it doesn’t.”
Leon shakes his head. “How do you think you’ve been foolish?”
“I went to New York to chase a girl, but it was all for naught. Isn’t that some Shakespearean shit or something?”
“Don’t be dissing my man, man. I heard about this girl. She was at the Halloween party.” Leon shakes his head. I know his story now, and that evening was a shitshow for both of us.
“Yeah, well, she left me.”
“I left Tricia. But I’m back.” He taps both his palms on his chest two times. “You want a girl back, you beg. You apologize. You wait.”
“I’ve been waiting. It’s been three goddamn months. I made my grand gesture by going to New York, and it was a huge flop. She isn’t coming back.” Thinking I could go to her is unthinkable. I’ve moved forward with my restaurant plans. We’re standing in the middle of my project, my dream.
“Sometimes, time is all we have to give. Patience, my friend.”
I snort. Patience.
“I’m not sure what I’m being patient for anymore,” I state.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” a masculine voice says behind me, and Leon and I both turn to see Jacob just inside my place.
“Who let you in here?” I snap at him, knowing the door is probably unlocked as workers come and go.
Jacob shakes his head. At least, he has the decency to lower it a second.
“That was a dick move,” I say and feel Leon’s eyes on me, wondering what I’m talking about.
“She wanted to see you,” Jacob tells me.
“She didn’t even know I was coming,” I bite, throwing up my arm in irritation.
“And she’s heartbroken you left without listening to her,” Jacob retorts. I sigh as my hands came to my hips.
“Jacob, if she’s heartbroken, she has a funny way of showing it.” I’m the one who went to New York. I’m the one who went after her when she left me. She immersed herself back in her old life—modeling, fashion, society. She got lost in the sea of people where nobody looks at you, and that’s exactly where she wanted to be. She moved on with her life, following her dream, and I need to do the same thing. I’m where I’m supposed to be, and I just need to get on with it.
“It isn’t like that. She had to get things settled for herself and find a way on her own two feet.”
I nod as I turn away from him, clapping a hand on Leon as I dismiss myself. “These are my two feet carrying me away from you and her. I’m done.”
“You don’t mean that,” Jacob calls after me, but I do. I can’t go on wondering what she thinks of me. She took pity on me, standing there in that suit she designed, and tried to act chagrin at Jacob’s intervening invitation.
I disappear into my new kitchen, complete with an industrial oven and an oversized freezer and fridge. I love this space. The stainless-steel gleams, and the tile shines. It’s going to be an awesome restaurant, and I can’t believe it’s all mine.
Mine alone.
I always hoped one day I’d find someone to share this dream with me.
I shake the thought as I head to the fridge to make myself a sandwich even though I’m not really hungry. I need something to do with my hands before I punch a freshly plastered wall.
As I turn back to the oversized workstation, Pam stands in the middle of the kitchen.
“What is with this day?” I grumble. I haven’t been able to face her for months, not after what she did. She didn’t answer my calls either, and worse, she didn’t tell me anything once I finally did see her during the holidays.
“Ethan, I’m sorry.” She’s been saying it for the past month, but I don’t want to hear it. She warned me to stay away from Ella, and when I didn’t, she made sure to take Ella away from me. Only, I’ve been reminded it was Ella’s decision. She left in the early hours of the morning, calling Pam to pick her up. Pam helped her escape to New York.
I don’t respond to Pam’s apology. I continue to make a sandwich from the fresh bread I experimented with in the new oven and the honey ham I cooked the other night.
“Look, she didn’t want me to tell you because she knew you’d chase her.” I slam down the mayonnaise jar but don’t look up at Pam. “She needed help, E. This was larger than you.”
Pam has repeatedly tried to explain that Ella wasn’t running away from me. She was just upset over what happened again to her. Ella needed space to sort herself out before she could be in a relationship. I didn’t care for that explanation even though it made sense. I wanted to support her in every way, but her actions told me she didn’t want me. She didn’t need my help, my comfort, or my love.
“She still could have told me. She could have leaned on me, and I would have supported her decision, but she took it from me. She made the decision for me by running away.”
“They’ve had a shit life,” Pam defends, and I glare at her. “It’s not an excuse, but can you imagine…imagine what it was like for her to always be on display, always be pretty and prepped. People looking at her and touching her, and then someone touches without her permission?”
I couldn’t imagine. She’d told me some of her stories herself, but she didn’t discuss all that happened, not really, and not with me. She left before we could really talk about her feelings and her reaction to the first and second attacks.
“She could have talked to me.”
“She didn’t want you to see her differently.”
“I already did. I already saw her for who she is now, not then. The woman who wanted to make her clothing line and help others feel beautiful even if she doesn’t feel that way about herself.”
Pam stares back at me, and I meet her glare.
“She loves you,” Pam says, and I snort. I don’t want to hear this. Turning away from her, I return the mayonnaise and ham to the fridge.
“I’m sorry,” she says again, and I sigh, spinning back to her.
“I know you are, Pam, but I just need a break. Between you and Jacob—”
“Jacob?” she interjects.
“Yeah, that stunt he pulled where he gave me his invitation to Ella’s show and sent me to New York thinking Ella wanted to see me.”
“He did that?” Pam asks, her voice cracking as a smile breaks across her face.
“Didn’t you know?” I question. Pam chews on her lip and shakes her head.
“It’s kind of romantic,” she whispers, and I bitterly chuckle.
“It could have been.” I exhale, but Pam still holds a goofy grin on her face. “Don’t romanticize him, Pam. You’ll end up with a broken heart as well.”