"You're lying to your wife," I say, narrowing my eyes. "And yeah, you lied to me. You said you didn't want anything serious, but you didn't tell me a thing about being married."
"Like it will matter. Come on. I know that you're just one of those sluts that wants to get laid. There's nothing wrong with that."
"What did you call me?" The expression on his face changes, but then he glares at me and puts his chin up in the air proudly.
"Yeah, I said what I said," he says.
Before I know it, I raise my hand up in the air, make a fist, and punch him as hard as I can.
"You bitch, you bitch!” he yells after me, cradling his bloody nose.
I run out of his hotel room before this gets any worse.
8
Jacqueline
I run out of the hotel room with my hand on fire. With all the blood gushing out of his nose, it's probably likely that I have broken it. I cross the street running without waiting for the green light and then go around the corner to make sure that he can't follow me.
Suddenly, I start to laugh. I laugh wildly and it comes from somewhere in the pit of my stomach, a deep bellowing laugh.
"Jacqueline?" Allison asks, running up to me. "I just got your message. Are you okay? What happened?"
She looks at my throbbing hand as I elevate it to try to prevent the blood from pooling. There’s blood everywhere even on the hem of my skirt.
I tell her everything.
"Oh my God, what an asshole!”
"Yeah, I was so pissed. I mean, he has a fucking wife and he thinks that it's okay. Fuck him. And then he called me a slut and I.. I just lost it."
"So you just punched him? How did you do it?" Allison wants to know every single detail.
She starts to laugh.
"We have to get out of here," I say. "The hotel is right there. I don't want him coming after me."
"Yeah, of course."
She grabs me and we get the next available cab.
Back in her apartment, she hands me a bag of frozen peas and makes me elevate my hand, placing them on top.
"No, they're too cold and too heavy."
"Oh, stop being such a whiner. I mean, you got in a fist fight, you're going to have to pay the price.”
I start to laugh again.
She grabs a quarter pint of ice cream, chocolate chip, out of the freezer.
"I think you deserve this."
I'm tempted to say no. I'm still trying to be good with my food intake, but she's right. I do deserve this.
That evening, we drink two bottles of wine and eat all of her ice cream and order pizza. We talk late into the night and it reminds me so much of our time as roommates back at Dartmouth.
Men would come and go, but it was this friendship that kept us going.
"We haven't had fun like this in a long time," Allison says, clearing up the dishes and putting them in the sink.
"I'd offer to wash them," I say, "but you know, I'm injured."
"Yeah, right."
She rolls her eyes.
I stand next to the counter finishing my wine and she tells me how much she has missed us hanging out like this.
"I've missed it a lot, too," I say. "It's been so long since ..."
"Why do we get involved with guys in the first place?" she asks. "I mean, they do nothing but ruin things."
"I know," I agree.
"Hey, I was thinking about something," she says, taking the last plate, washing it and rubbing a sponge over it a few times. "What if you were to move in with me?"
"What do you mean here?"
"Yeah."
"No, I don't think I can do that," I say a little bit too quickly.
"Look, I know that before you had a whole thing with your roommate about her boyfriend, but I'm not getting a boyfriend anytime soon. I'm not looking for a boyfriend and neither are you.”
I tilt my head.
“Two married men in a row. That’s not a good streak you're on."
I narrow my eyes and then smile. I know that she's just joking.
"Look, your mom is better, right? You're in the city all the time to go to school, do your thesis. Why not just move in here? Help me pay the rent. We can go out, we can hang out, we can have all these nights together just like we used to."
The offer is definitely very inviting. I can't help but want to say yes, but still I hesitate.
"I don't want to pressure you. I can tell that you're uncomfortable. Just think about it. No harm done either way."
I nod. "Okay, I'll think about it, I promise."
As soon as I get home the following morning, after traveling on the train, I realize that it's about time that I move back to the city. I'll be done with the semester and hopefully have my degree by August and I'll be starting to look for work.
Most of the jobs are in Midtown, which are very close to where Allison lives. Who knows, maybe they'll even be an opening at her work.
And at that point, commuting every morning and evening back and forth to New Jersey is going to be a pain.
Besides, she is right. Mom is feeling better and when I tell her that I’m thinking about moving, she looks relieved that I’m finally getting out of the house.
Two weeks later, I move in with Allison.
9
Dante
I should have run after her. I called her name, but she didn't stop, but I should have chased her down and told her the truth.
I saw the expression in her eyes when she thought that Marguerite was with me, when she thought that that was our child she was carrying, but I couldn't make myself go.
The other part of the story is that I never called Jacqueline back.
After Chicago, I decided that it would be better to have a clean break. I was never supposed to get close to her in the first place, and after that fight, it was my chance to make everything right.
I got back from Chicago and I played with my phone. I checked it constantly. I listened to her messages.
I read her texts, but I didn't call.
After a while, Jacqueline stopped trying to reach out. After a while, I decided that I paid my dues. I paid for her mother's treatment, and that was enough. There was no reason for me to complicate matters even more.
I tried to start and make a new break.
I buried myself in work, taking on more clients, flying more. I figured that if I stayed busy enough, then I could push her out of my mind. And it worked somewhat temporarily, until it didn't, until Jacqueline was all I could think about and all I could dream about and she haunted me everywhere I went.
And then I took Marguerite to a doctor's appointment in the city to see a specialist because she was having some complications.
Lincoln was busy; he had a big client to dine and wine and to invest in his hedge fund. He was working insane hours now and every time that he didn't come home until it was too late, Marguerite got more and more upset.
After the appointment, we went out to take a stroll in the park. She was feeling good for once, not nauseous and overwhelmed, and I wanted to buy her some ice cream and take a walk and help her forget about everything that she thought was wrong with her marriage.