What Love Looks Like (22 page)

The bar was
jam-packed with people all clamoring to the front to get their glasses
refilled. I knew that I wouldn’t have to wait because, after all, my boyfriend
ran the place. I spotted him at the very same moment he spotted me. He was
obviously busy but dropped everything to come and greet me at the door.

“You look great,”
he said. “Is that dress new?”

“It is,” I said,
smiling.

“Well it’s gorgeous.
Follow me—I put your present in the Board Room since it’s empty tonight.”

        
“I
told you not to use my private dining rooms without my permission,” I said,
joking as we walked.

        
“Well,
I think you’ll be pleased when you see what’s in there.” As we rounded the
corner of the dining room, where every table was filled, Ryan opened the door
to the Board Room. In an instant I heard whispers followed by “
Surprise!
” I looked around to see Jenna
and her husband, Erica and her fiancé, Stacy and Serena with their men, my
brother and Kate, Emily and her boyfriend, and even Maureen.

“Oh. My. God.” I
said. I’d never been the guest of honor at a surprise party before. It was
unbelievable! I felt so flattered. I was covered with hugs and wishes for a
happy birthday. “I can’t believe you’re all here!” When I got around to
greeting my sister, I whispered, “Whose idea was this?”

        
“Ryan’s.”
Emily raised her eyebrows, obviously impressed with my new beau.

        
I
was handed a glass of champagne and nibbled on shrimp cocktail. The gathering
was perfect—not too big but just big enough to make me feel more special
than I’d ever felt in my entire life.

        
Ryan
was alternating between operating his busy crowd and coming in and mingling
with my friends and family. I could tell he was being Charming Ryan, as my
friends laughed and blushed as he spoke to them, and guys shook his hand,
thanking him for a great time as he made his rounds. I was smiling and staring
at him, and finally he looked up and noticed. He made his way over to me.

        
“I
can’t believe you did this,” I said.

        
“Are
you mad? I know you didn’t want anything big, but this is low-key, right? And I
just couldn’t resist. Your sister helped.”

        
“I’m
not mad! This is so amazing—how could I be mad?”

        
After
the party, we went from bar to bar until nearly 2:00 a.m. Ryan crashed at my
apartment for the first time, since Woody was at the kennel for the night. It
was the best birthday I could remember, and it was all because of him. As he
slept, I couldn’t help but stare at his massive chest rising and falling with
every breath he took. He was such a different breed of man than I was used to,
and I had to wonder how it was possible that I’d found him and that he was
available. I felt fortunate beyond measure, and that for the first time fate
had intervened in my life.

Once September
rolled in, Ryan and I returned to the fruit farm, this time for apples instead
of berries. With so many people around for the fall harvest, we weren’t able to
recreate the scene of our first tryst. That didn’t matter, though; we still had
the memory. We playfully ran through the rows of apples, climbing trees, biting
into the giant fruit, and savoring the last few rays of the summer sun. I
enjoyed every minute of that summer with Ryan. It was the healthiest and most
romantic time of my three-decade-long life.

I was so stuck
on that summer that I was practically unaware that fall had crept in and robbed
us of those blissful, beautiful nights. Halloween came, and Ryan and I handed
out candy to the kids in his neighborhood. It was the first time I’d seen him
around children, and it only made me fall a little more in love with him. The
leaves had fallen, and it was chilly outside again.

On a whim I invited
him to my parents’ house for Thanksgiving. He hadn’t met them yet, but he had
met Max and Emily. It was a big step to ask him to spend the holiday away from
his own family and instead come and spend it with mine. But we’d devoted so
much time to one another that I couldn’t imagine not sharing one of my favorite
days of the year with him. Plus my mother was driving me crazy, bugging me to
bring him over to finally meet her and my father. Ryan obliged, saying he
wouldn’t dream of spending the holiday apart from me. He was almost too good to
be true, and the tiny bit of pessimism that lingered within me was just waiting
for a bomb to drop.

20

 
Two
weeks ahead of Thanksgiving, I found myself imagining the splendor of the
holidays with Ryan by my side. The ease with which our relationship had
unfolded continued to surprise me. I was practically living at his place, and
we hadn’t once grown tired of one another. It seemed as though nothing could
destroy my good cheer in the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving. In addition to
the delicious flavors of autumn food, the chill in the air, and my favorite
pumpkin spice lattes, I was in love with an amazing man. I was completely
preoccupied with Ryan, and everyone I knew picked up on my good mood. At last
my time had come to be happy.

At the office,
Maureen and I were amped for the holidays and for the pandemonium of another
December. In addition to planning hundreds of corporate Christmas dinners, we
were responsible for decorating each of the locations. Days before Thanksgiving,
we made our annual pilgrimage to buy poinsettias, wreaths, and mistletoe from
the nearby holiday pop-up store. As we considered different decorations, I felt
a buzzing from inside my purse.

I peeked at the
screen, hoping to see a text from Ryan, but what I saw instead made my stomach
turn. Bewildered, I was aware of my mouth hanging open. Before me were two
words I’d wanted to hear desperately, only they came six months too late.

        
“Holy
shit,” I said.

        
“What?”
Maureen asked.

        
“Goddamn
it.”

        
“What?”

        
“I’m
in total fucking shock.”

        
“Are
you going to tell me what’s going on, or are you just going to keep shouting
profanities?”

        
“Jay,”
I said. “He texted me.”

        
“Get
out! What did he say?”
 

        
“I’m
sorry,” I said. “That’s it, just
I’m
sorry
.”

        
“He
disgusts me. Don’t even write back!”

        
“I
don’t intend to.”

        
But
the unfortunate truth was that seeing his name on my phone made me crave the
sound of his voice. I needed to know that it wasn’t me, that it was him. Or
rather, my ego needed to know. I needed clarity that some extenuating
circumstances had caused his sudden painful deception and departure.

Maureen and I
shopped for nearly two hours; I spent the entire time trying to talk about
anything but Jay. I thought about him for the entire drive home and tried to
compose the perfect reply, should I decide to dignify him with one. By the time
I got to Ryan’s, the dogs were as antsy as I was. I didn’t turn on the
television or play any music. I just poured myself some wine in Ryan’s kitchen
while Luna and Woody scarfed down their kibble.

Did Jay have
some sort of radar? Did he know I was happy and think he should swoop in again
to cause me more turmoil? And how dare he assume that I even wanted to hear
from him? Did he think I was just sitting around and waiting by the phone?

Who is this?
I finally replied. Even though I’d deleted his number, I still knew
it was Jay from the 917 area code. Before leaving the holiday store, Maureen
made me promise that I wouldn’t write him back. She said I shouldn’t let
anything interfere with what I had going on with Ryan, and I agreed with her.
She argued that I was finally in a good place, so why rehash something that had
cut me so deeply? But I couldn’t help myself; my dark side had to know what was
on Jay’s mind.

        
Elle, it’s Jay.
I owe you an apology.

Don’t worry. It’s fine,
I said, trying to be cool—my usual game
with him. Already I’d denied how I really felt because I cared what he thought
of me. It was a dangerous cycle and one that he was in complete control of.

        
You’re not mad?
He asked.

        
No. It’s been, what, five maybe six months?
I’m over it.
 

        
Yes.
I
haven’t been traveling much.

        
I
wasn’t sure how that was relevant as an excuse.
Well a little down time never hurt anyone
.

        
I’ll be in Columbus next week,
he wrote,
and I was hoping you’d see me. I want to
talk to you
.

        
I
was practically rabid with fury but also strangely excited at the prospect of
seeing him. I sat in Ryan’s kitchen, armed with my Shiraz, and took a deep
breath, placing my hands over my eyes and rubbing my fingers into them. I
probably would have appeared borderline psychotic to anyone seeing me alone in
the dark, drinking, tugging on my hair, and biting my nails.

        
And what do you hope to talk about?
I
wrote back.

        
Us
.
And
why things went down that way. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.
So how about it? Drinks next week?

        
I
knew Ryan would be closing the restaurant every night and that I could get away
with seeing Jay and finally gain some closure, all while not hurting Ryan. What
he didn’t know wouldn’t harm him.

Okay,
I said.

        
I’ll e-mail when I know where I’m staying.

        
I
never replied. A few moments later I heard the garage door open, and the two
dogs startled me out of my disconcerted state. I didn’t get up as I usually did
when I heard Ryan enter the house and greet the animals. I stayed seated and
forced a smile when he entered the kitchen.

        
“Hi,
beautiful,” he said sweetly, bending down to kiss me.

        
“Hi.
How was your day?”

“It was good!
It’s just hard to stay at work when I know you’re here. I just want to get home
and be with you.” He was still bent down, his face level with mine. He kissed
me again, set down his briefcase, and poured himself a splash of the wine. “Is
everything okay? You seem a little quiet.”

“Everything’s
fine. I’m just exhausted. I want to get to bed early.”

“Perfect,
because if there’s one way I’d choose to end every day, it would be in bed with
you. By the way, I can’t wait to meet your family on Thanksgiving. And then
there’s Christmas. I haven’t put up a tree in this place since I moved in.
Maybe this will be the year.” He winked at me. He was so damn good-natured that
it was almost unfair. And I had the audacity to have someone else on my
twisted, senseless mind.

I chose to spend
the next few nights at my apartment instead of Ryan’s place so that I wouldn’t
give myself away. Yes, I’d agreed to have drinks with Jay, but it wasn’t
cheating. I wouldn’t ever cheat on Ryan, not after what he’d been through and
how incredible he’d been to me. But I had to imagine that there’d be some
sexual tension between Jay and me in person. After all, we’d had such
animalistic sex together and what I still believed were genuine feelings for
one another.

I isolated
myself ahead of the holiday, which wasn’t like me at all. It wasn’t unusual for
me to have already completed my Christmas shopping by Thanksgiving. But the
whirlwind of my new romance and the reemergence of my old one had me thrown
off. I was tucked away in my apartment, and Ryan might stop over at any moment.
His restaurant was less than a block away, and on breaks he’d occasionally stop
by and give me a quick kiss. I’d usually make him coffee, and then he’d head
back to work. I loved those visits most of the time, but for those few nights
leading up to seeing Jay again I wasn’t in the mood for his sweetness,
spontaneity, or charm.

Jay made good on
his promise. He e-mailed me saying that he was going to be staying at the
Hilton, which was close to my apartment. I figured we’d meet somewhere in the
middle. That way we could both walk and I wouldn’t be stuck driving
him—not to mention being persuaded to go up to his hotel room.

I suggested we
meet at Martini, a swanky restaurant and bar on High Street just a few blocks
south of Ryan’s. I knew there was no way Ryan would see me there, and I mostly
avoided texting him that evening so I wouldn’t give myself away and cause him
worry over nothing. I knew that if he found out about it, even though it was
just
a drink, he’d be devastated.