by Alice Wasser
And somehow, something inside me just snapped.
For my entire life, ever since I hit adolescence, everyone treated me like I was ugly and undesirable. I felt like nobody would ever want to date me or marry me or love me. I was “a dog” or I had “too much junk in the trunk.” Ever since I was a kid, everyone treated me like a second-class human being just because of how I looked. And honestly, I was freaking sick of it. Sam never treated me that way. He always treated me like I was beautiful.
“You know,” I said to Eric, “Sam wasn’t marrying me because he felt like he couldn’t get anyone better. I’m sure that’s what you think, but it’s not true.”
Eric lifted his eyes from the screen. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t act all innocent,” I retorted. “It’s obvious what you were implying. And frankly, it’s really insulting. Sam liked me. We weren’t settling for each other or anything.”
I lifted my chin when I spoke. It was true. Sam isn’t here to stand up for me like he did at the movies when that asshole called me fat, so I need to stand up for myself. I may not be beautiful like Alicia, but Sam loved me, Goddamn it.
Eric shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, honestly. I never thought that Sam was settling for you.”
I snorted. “Okay, so what was that comment you just made about marrying ugly girls?”
“Christ, you women are so freaking sensitive.” Eric rolled his eyes. “Look, Millie, you’re not my type or anything, but, I mean, I can definitely see what Sam saw in you.” He blushed slightly when he said that, which was actually sort of cute. “I remember when Sam had his first date with you, he called me up that night and said that he was head over heels in love. I’d never seen him get like that over a girl before.” He looked sad all of a sudden. “So no, I never thought he was settling. Definitely not.”
He couldn’t have made me feel worse if he had bashed me over the head with his laptop. Talking to Eric was a mistake.
“Anyway,” Eric said, closing the screen on his laptop, “I think I better go.”
“Yeah,” I said weakly. “Maybe you better…”
“I wouldn’t have come here in the first place, except Sam said you’d be staying with some guy…”
I blinked. “Some guy?”
“Yeah…” Eric averted his eyes from mine.
Oh God, did Sam actually think that I was staying with Jake? He couldn’t possibly. Suddenly I felt desperate for Eric to understand.
“Listen,” I said. “Nothing happened with me and that guy. Sam just… misunderstood the whole thing.”
“Uh huh,” Eric said politely.
“It’s true!”
Eric sighed. “Millie, you know what he’s been through in the past. I know you feel guilty, but you should just be honest. He can take it. He handled it all the other times.”
Been through in the past? “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you know you’re not the first girl who’s cheated on him,” he said. “They all did. His last ex Holly was living with another guy a week after they broke up. I know he felt differently about you than the other girls, but he probably knew in his heart it was going to end this way.”
“Eric,” I said desperately. “I’m not like the other girls. I still love him and want to be with him.”
“Sure,” he said.
“I do,” I swore.
Eric picked up his laptop from the dining table. “Look, I should go.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Honestly?” he said. “No.”
“Eric…”
He held up his hand. “No offense, Millie, but I don’t really want to talk to you about this. I was always nice to you because Sam was so crazy about you, but after what you did to him, I really don’t feel like I should do anything to help you.”
With those words, he tucked his laptop under his arm and left the apartment.
June 16:
Even though I said I wasn’t going to, I called Sam today. I called him in the evening, when I knew he wouldn’t be busy in meetings or something. Of course, his phone went straight to voicemail. I heard his message saying: “Hey there, it’s Sam. Leave a message.” I almost burst into tears at the sound of his voice. I love Sam’s voice. It’s so cute and sexy. I felt like we hadn’t spoken in forever.
I composed myself then called again. I had been planning to leave a message saying I missed him, then was taken aback when he picked up. “Hi, Millie,” he said in a monotone that was a lot different from his friendly voicemail message.
“Hi,” I said.
“What is it?” he said.
“Huh?” I said.
He sighed. “You called me twice. Is something wrong?”
Was he worried? Him being worried was a good sign, right? Of course, now I felt like I had to say something important because I had called. “Um,” I said brilliantly. “My sister had her baby.”
“Oh,” he said. He sounded somehow relieved that this was all I had to say. “Well, tell her congratulations.”
There wasn’t a trace of warmth in his voice. He still sounded really angry. No, not angry exactly. More like detached. Like he didn’t have any interest in me anymore.
There was a long pause. Finally, he said, “Is there anything else?”
“Are you coming back soon?” I asked in a small voice.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I was thinking about staying here a little bit and taking some vacation time.”
I wondered what he’d been doing out there. I thought again about his ex-girlfriend Elisa living in New York, and I started to get that panicky feeling. Maybe they met up for dinner one night, and it led to something more. Maybe he was already over me.
At least he didn’t ask me if I had moved all my stuff out of his apartment. Because I hadn’t. I hadn’t even started packing. I just couldn’t deal with the possibility that we were really broken up for good.
“Okay,” I said finally.
“All right,” he said back.
I love you.
The words were on the tip of my tongue. I wanted so badly to say them, it was almost painful. I had told him I loved him so many times in the year we’ve been together, but this time I was too scared to get the words out.
What if he didn’t say it back?
Or worse, what if he said he didn’t think he loved me anymore? I’d be completely destroyed.
“Sam?” I said.
“What?” he asked, an irritable edge creeping into his voice.
Tell me you miss me. Tell me you love me. Tell me you still want to marry me.
Please, Sam.
“Nothing,” I mumbled.
“Right,” he sighed. He was quiet for another minute before he said, “I have to go now.”
“Okay,” I said, my voice barely a squeak.
He hung up before I could say another word. I sat there, alone in the apartment we shared, wondering if he still felt anything for me at all.
June 17:
I was standing in line at the deli downstairs with Donna when I noticed Jake’s secretary Cheryl standing in line ahead of us. Cheryl was the one who basically told Sam that I was cheating on him with Jake, so she wasn’t exactly my favorite person right now. I muttered as much to Donna.
“You should say something to her,” Donna said.
I stared. “No, I could never do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because. I’m not a confrontational kind of person.”
(That’s an understatement.)
Donna went on a long-winded rant about how that was bullshit and there was no such thing as a “confrontational kind of person.” She insisted that if a person deserved to be confronted, they were going to keep pulling the same kind of crap until someone was brave enough to speak up for themselves. “Just do it, Millie,” she concluded.
She had a point. I’d been furious at Cheryl and I wanted so badly to say something to her. “Okay, I will,” I said.
I walked up to Cheryl in line and cleared my throat. She didn’t turn. Finally, I tapped her on the shoulder and she looked at me.
If I got to have some kind of complete plastic surgery makeover, I would want to look exactly like Cheryl. She’s a few years younger than me and just has this really pretty, fresh-faced look. She’s so effortlessly beautiful. Like Sam, she looks like she spends very little time on her appearance, yet still manages to look amazing.
Cheryl looked me up and down and seemed irritated by my interruption. “What?” she said.
“Hey,” I said. “Thanks for telling my boyfriend that I was cheating on him.”
Cheryl raised her eyebrows at me. “What the hell, Millie? Are you trying to turn me into the bad guy? You’re the one who cheated.”
“I didn’t cheat on him.”
Cheryl rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Look, I wasn’t born yesterday. I know Jake. And I saw the look on your face when you came out of his office.”
“I was in there for less than twenty minutes,” I pointed out.
“That’s all it takes him,” Cheryl said with a shrug.
“I guess you should know,” I shot back.
“Yeah,” Cheryl said. “I do know. Unfortunately.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I just stood there awkwardly, wishing Donna hadn’t pushed me into this.
(I knew I wasn’t the confrontational type!)
“Look,” Cheryl said. “Sam is a really great guy. He doesn’t deserve to have you messing around behind his back with a douchebag like Jake. I wasn’t going to lie to him.”
I looked at Cheryl for a moment and then it suddenly occurred to me: “You have a thing for Sam, don’t you?”
Cheryl snorted. “Please, Millie. I’ve never seen a guy so dedicated to his girlfriend. I don’t think I ever had a conversation with him where he didn’t mention you. It was bordering on annoying, mostly because it made me realize I’ve never had a guy who liked me half as much as he liked you. And you didn’t even appreciate it.”
Cheryl had succeeded in making me feel even worse than I already did. The truth was, she was right: I was the one who had done something wrong. She had just been a good friend to Sam and been honest with him. I had an amazing relationship and for reasons I didn’t understand, I had allowed myself to jeopardize it.
And I was becoming more and more worried that we would never get back what we used to have.
June 18:
I was waiting for the elevator this morning when the doors opened and none other then Jake Winston was inside. He was standing there chatting with another junior executive I barely knew, Peter Somebody.
For a moment, I considered letting the elevator go. I could catch the next one, rather than spend an awkward two minutes riding up to my floor in close quarters with Jake. But that seemed sort of silly.
I started to step onto the elevator when Peter spoke up, “I’m not sure if you can board. It might put us over the weight limit for the elevator.”
You know what’s really sad? My diet has been going so horribly lately that for a minute, I actually thought he was completely serious. Then he burst out laughing.
I have to admit, I was stunned. It’s not like nobody ever makes cracks about my weight, obviously. But this wasn’t a middle school kid or one of the guys doing construction outside the building. I really didn’t expect a comment like that from one of my adult coworkers.
And I really didn’t expect Jake to laugh along with him.
I couldn’t help but remember when Sam and I were at the movies, how that asshole commented on my “fat ass” and Sam made him apologize. If Jake had been there, he probably would have high-fived the guy.
Sam was my hero. And Jake was just a jerk.
At that point, as much as I didn’t want to get on the elevator, I sort of had no choice. I kept my eyes pinned down on my feet as we rode upward, counting the seconds until I could get out of this stupid elevator.
Just my luck, Peter got out of the elevator first. After the door closed behind him, Jake sidled up next to me. I couldn’t believe he had the nerve after laughing at Peter’s joke.
“Hi, Matilda,” he said to me with a suggestive grin.
I could barely look at him. “Hi,” I said.
“So,” Jake said. “I heard Sam put in for a transfer to the New York office.”
Well, that got my attention. My jaw fell open. “What?”
Jake shrugged. “That’s what I heard.”
I barely even noticed Jake had been edging closer to me until I felt his fingers tracing a line along the fabric of my blouse collar. I swatted at him. “Don’t do that.”
He grinned at me. “Oh, come on, Matilda. Quit the games. Sam’s gone and he’s probably not coming back. You’re finally free.”
I took a deep breath and faced Jake. “Fuck you,” I said.
Jake looked at me in utter shock. At that moment, the elevator doors opened and I marched out. I might have made a humiliating entrance onto the elevators, but at least I made a good exit.
I managed to hold things together almost till I got to my desk, at which point my eyes started welling up with tears which quickly spilled over. It didn’t matter if I told Jake off. I had completely screwed everything up with Sam and he wasn’t even giving me a chance to make things right again.
I reached for my phone and called his number. Of course, it went to voicemail. I tried a second time, remembering how he had picked up after two calls before. But there was no answer.
I texted him: “Can you please give me a call soon? I need to talk to you.”
I stared at my phone for about 15 minutes straight, willing him to text me back. In our entire relationship, I don’t think Sam has ever taken longer than five minutes to text me back. I tried to convince myself that maybe he was in a meeting, maybe there was no way he could get to his phone. But I knew that wasn’t really the case.
Sam was officially no longer speaking to me.
I blew it.
Unless…
I went over to Donna’s cubicle and poked her in the arm. She looked up at my tear-streaked face in surprise. “Millie, oh my God, are you okay?”
“I will be,” I said. I squared my shoulders. “I’m going to New York.”
Her eyes widened. “What? Are you serious?”
“Look,” I said, “I’ve got to talk to Sam now. I’ve got to tell him that I still love him.”
Donna shook her head at me like I was crazy. “Why don’t you just call him on the phone to tell him?”
“He won’t answer my calls. Or my texts.”
She shook her head again. “This is a crazy and stupid idea.”
“Why?”
“Well, for one thing, do you even know where Sam is staying?”
“No…”
“And he won’t answer your calls, so how are you going to find out?”
“Um…”
“New York is a big city, Millie,” Donna said. “You can’t just go to the nearest hotel and find him. You aren’t going to bump into him randomly at the top of the Empire State building. This isn’t a movie—things don’t work that way in real life. You’re going to end up wandering around the city, and probably get yourself mugged.”
I looked down at my expensive engagement ring. That alone would probably get my throat slashed in New York. But of course, I’d leave it at home. Still, I’m not exactly street savvy.
“I think you should sit tight,” she said. “Sam will be back eventually and you can talk to him then.”
“I heard he put in for a transfer to New York,” I said miserably. “He might not come back, Donna.”
Donna considered this for a minute. Finally, she said, “He’ll be back, Millie. I’m sure of it.”
I really didn’t like that answer. I wanted to fly off to New York and find him like they did in the movies. Then again, I usually couldn’t even find him in the building. She was right—how the hell was I going to find him in a gigant
ic city?
But what was I supposed to do? Just sit here, while he completely wrote me off?
When I got home tonight, I loaded up the website fly dot com, which Sam told me once is the best way to find cheap airfare. Because I was using the website he recommended to me, I started to tear up as I clicked on the site. I was really a mess.
There were a few flights leaving tomorrow that cost $550 for a one-way ticket from the San Francisco International Airport to LaGuardia in New York. Pricey, but worth it. I almost booked myself a ticket before remembering that my nephew Alex had his bris (ceremonial circumcision) in two days from now. If I missed that stupid bris, I would literally never hear the end of it. It would almost certainly be mentioned at the eulogy at my funeral. Here lies Matilda Glockenfeld. She missed her nephew’s bris.
Maybe I could fly out tomorrow, quickly find Sam and reconcile with him, then dash back the next day on the red-eye just in time to see little Alex get his foreskin cut off.
How long does it take to reconcile with a guy who thinks you cheated on him?
I had no idea what the answer to that question was, but I was guessing that it would take longer than a couple of hours. If I flew out now, I would never make it back in time for the bris.
After closing the website, I called Sam again, hoping we could talk things over on the phone. He didn’t answer. Which meant that my flying out to New York would be as useless as Donna said, since I’d have no way to find him.
He had to come back eventually. And I’d be here waiting.
June 19:
My mother came to the apartment for the first time today. She’s been in the area because she’s been helping Rachel, but she decided today that she wanted to drive out to see me. I told her Sam was out of town and she said she was curious to see where I was living now. Not that I expected to be living here much longer.
When she came into the apartment, it felt a little surreal. She looked around and I was sure she was going to say something critical, but instead she said, “This is a nice place. He keeps it very clean.”
