I shake my head no.
When Allison walks away from me, her long flowing dress bounces off the parquet floors of her pre-war apartment with enormous windows looking out onto West 86th street. She got a raise at work and is now making over $75,000 a year, and actually paid off her loans.
The Redemption club has become something of an addiction for her. She goes there to hook up with couples. She likes to be the guest star as she calls it. But if they want to pursue something more serious like a polyamorous relationship, she usually shoots them down. For her, the whole experience seems more about the attention than anything else.
"Are you going to go on a run with me or not?" I ask.
”Right now? Do you know how sticky it is out there?" Allison says, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
She descends into the luxurious chaise lounge in the corner, next to the enormous fica plant and motions for me to sit in a pink mid-century style chair with pins for legs.
I grab my mug of coffee and plop down. Somehow, I have managed to gain almost twelve pounds ever since my mother's surgery.
I wasn't particularly thin before, but this is the heaviest I've ever been.
"Look, I know that you're a little embarrassed because you have gained some weight, but don't worry about that. You'll look beautiful, glowing,” Allison says when I bring it up.
I stare at her defined and slim arms and suddenly feel incredibly ugly. She's not trying to make me feel bad, quite the opposite, but sometimes these emotions just take over.
“Nope, I’m going to go on a run,” I say. I'm pointing to my yoga pants and the loose fitting shirt. “I'm not just wearing all this to look cute.”
She smiles out of the corner of her lips.
I make one final offer, but she refuses again and I promise to be back in forty-five minutes.
I definitely can’t run that long, but it will be good to get forty-five minutes of some kind of exercise nevertheless.
I've been trying to get onto a diet or some sort of sensible eating plan for quite a while now. Going back to school, taking classes, and being relieved that my mom is actually okay, has had a strange effect on me. It forced me to relax and put my guard down and fill myself up with junk food.
The day is uncanny in its beauty: bright blue skies, warm, with just a little bit of breeze. Central Park is full of children and people exercising, running, playing Frisbee, or just hanging out on the green grass, enjoying themselves after many months of being cooped up in the New York winter.
When I enter through the gates, I pick up my pace. It’s a light jog, nothing too strenuous, but I still get a stitch in my side. Drenched in sweat, I take a five minute break, turning off my podcast. As I walk, I see a group of crows crowd around bread crumbs taking turns on the feast.
The break seems to have the opposite effect. When I try to run again, I'm more tired and exhausted.
Keep going, I say to myself. You can do it.
A young woman, barely out of her teens, struggles to get her new puppy to walk on a leash in front of her. I smile and wave to the puppy who bounces up and down with newfound exuberance.
Picking up my feet and taking faster steps, I try to breathe through my nose and exhale through my mouth just like I've been taught in order to not get those cramps in my side.
I follow the path into a narrow but short tunnel. There’s a boulder right outside as I turn up the trail, blocking my view and I run straight into someone.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," I say, jumping back, realizing that I had knocked her down to the ground.
"Are you okay?" A familiar voice extends his hand to her and helps her back onto her feet. It belongs to Dante.
His eyes have not met mine yet. He's still helping up the statuesque woman in a beautiful summer dress. When she moves slightly to face me, I see that she's pregnant.
My mouth drops open and I want to disappear into the ground.
6
Jacqueline
When Dante's eyes meet mine, he recognizes me immediately. My world feels like it's going to collapse.
"I'm really sorry," I mumble. "I'm so sorry.”
She stands next to him looking at me.
She has big wide eyes and she cradles her stomach in a way to protect it from me. I look at her and I look at him and all of the time a century seems to pass.
"I have to go," I say, turning on my heels and rubbing sweat off my brow.
Touching a cheek, I feel the heat coming off it and I know that it’s bright red.
Of course, Dante found someone else, I say to myself over and over again. How could I be so stupid?
I begin to run. Somewhere in the distance, I hear him yell after me, but I don't stop and he doesn't catch up.
I'm afraid to go back to the tunnel, so I go around the long way, not running so much after a while, but walking, crying behind my sunglasses and wiping my tears.
When I finally get back to Allison's apartment and call up for her to open the downstairs door, she sees me on the intercom, immediately concerned.
“Let me in!” I cry.
A few minutes later, I'm sitting on her sixties-style sofa with no padding with her arms around me as I sob into her shoulder.
"That was him," I say, when I come up for air.
"How do you know that she was with him?” she asks.
"Because they were together.” I shrug. "I don't know how else to put it. She was pregnant, like visibly pregnant. And I knocked her over and I watched him pull her up and the way she just stood next to him, I just ... Of course, it's his girlfriend or new wife or whatever."
"What if they were already married before he met you?"
I swallow hard. The thought had not crossed my mind.
"I don't know," I say. "It's very possible, but then I'm even more of a fool, an idiot."
"You're not an idiot for putting yourself out there."
"Don't you see?" I say, pulling away from her and wiping the tears from my eyes.
"Don't pull on your skin like that, you're going to get wrinkles," Allison instructs, "just pat."
I don't listen and instead wipe the rest of my eyes with the back of my hand, purposely being as rough as possible.
"This whole thing was just some sort of a game."
"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" Allison asks.
"Maybe he was with that woman all along. Maybe she's part of it. Maybe they were just having some fun."
"No, that can't be true. I mean, he paid for your mom's surgery."
"I know, but then I called him on it and he never called me again."
"What if he just found out that she was pregnant after that?" Allison asks. "What if he wanted to call you but he couldn’t?"
I stare at her. She’s waiting for me to say something.
But I just shake my head. He’s a liar and he's not someone I thought he was. He's been this mystery ever since I met him and it was romantic and kind of cool at first. Not anymore.
"Maybe he's just some rich asshole who likes to have a little fun and play these little games,” I say.
Pulling away from Allison, I wipe the rest of my tears. My words resonate around the room and by the expression on her face, I can tell that I've made an impact. That was the first time I've ever considered that out loud or even in my own head and now it seems to bring answers to all of my questions.