Life After Falling

by Alyssa Rose Ivy

  "Because I saw the way that man looked at you. One or both of you would get hurt if you tried to use him.”

  “He's not a rebound." Leo wasn’t the type of guy you’d use that way. He was too complicated and intriguing. He was the kind of guy you moved on to after you finished with the rebound.

  "But you’re sleeping together?”

  "I'm not answering that question." Especially not while sitting in his apartment after our first night together.

  "Which means I'm right."

  "I've got to go." He’d been in the shower a while. He’d be out soon.

  "Are you sure you're okay?"

  "I'm fine, but I'm ready to get this over with. I want to put it behind me."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Why are you sorry?"

  "I wish I had said something, I knew you weren't happy, but I didn't want you to hate me so I kept my mouth closed."

  "I was the one in denial. I'm fine. I'll call you when I get back."

  She sighed. "Dinner one night this week? You can bring Leo."

  "I'll think about it."

  "Drive safe. Let me know when you get back."

  "I will." I heard the water turn off. "Love you, Mom."

  "Love you too."

  I hung up and waited on the couch for Leo to come out.

  "Hey." He walked out with a towel wrapped around his waist. I'd seen him naked already, but it still took me by surprise.

  "Nice shower?"

  "Could have been better." He winked.

  "I'm showering at my place where my clean clothes are."

  "Maybe I'll join you then."

  His teasing had changed, and I liked the sexual edge to it.

  "I don't remember offering," I teased back.

  "That's what you are saying now." He kissed my neck before pulling clothes from a small dresser.

  I turned away while he dressed. Even after seeing him naked, I felt strange invading his privacy by watching. If he thought it was odd, he didn’t show it.

  Five minutes later we were in my car on the way back to my apartment. The drive only took a few minutes, and before I knew it I was somewhat nervously opening the door to my new place.

  I'd spent the night in his apartment, but letting him into mine felt different somehow. As new as the space was for me, it was still mine. Having him there made things seem more real somehow.

  I walked in first, and Leo followed right behind me. I headed for the kitchen to check on Fluffy’s water and food. He had both. “You around, Fluffy?” Even if Fluffy ignored me, I could still try to be a dutiful pet owner. “I’m going to jump in the shower, feel free to make yourself at home.”

  He nodded. “Thanks.”

  I pulled out a change of clothes and walked into the bathroom. It had been less than twenty-four hours since I’d last showered, but so much had happened it felt like it had been ages. As I showered, I couldn’t help but remember the feel of his hands and lips on me. They were sensations I definitely wanted to experience again.

  When I got out of the shower I heard Leo talking. I crept toward the living room slowly.

  “You’re a good boy.”

  I gasped. Fluffy was sitting on Leo’s lap purring. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d heard that cat purr before.

  “Such a good boy.” Leo pet him. “He likes me.”

  I startled. I hadn’t realized he’d heard me come in. Fluffy was still purring and pushing his head into Leo’s hand to keep him petting. “Evidently he does.” At the sound of my voice Fluffy jumped off Leo’s lap and ran off. “But he doesn’t like me.”

  “You two just need some bonding time.”

  “We’ve had plenty of bonding time.”

  “I don’t buy that you only took him because you were annoyed at your ex. You like the cat.”

  “I don’t like Fluffy, and he doesn’t like me.” Few things in life were as crystal clear.

  “Do we need to get some pet-owner therapy for you two?”

  “No, but we do need to get on the road.”

  “In that much of a rush?”

  “I want to get it over with.” I ran my fingers through my damp hair. No amount of toweling was going to dry it, but I didn’t want to waste time with the hair dryer.

  “Think you might want to get dressed first?” He raised an eyebrow.

  I glanced down at my towel. “Yeah. Definitely.” I headed back to my room. I could hear him laughing through the closed door.

  I took a few minutes to get dressed and walked back out. “Ok, I’m ready.”

  “Sounds good.” He stood. “You have a bigger bed. We can stay here next time.”

  “You went in my room?”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “No.” Not really. There was nothing in that room he couldn’t see.

  “It does.”

  “I’m only surprised you did it without me.” I had nothing to hide from him, but it still felt strange.

  “I was curious where you spend your nights.”

  “I haven’t spent many nights here yet.”

  “Ok, then I’ll rephrase it. I was curious where you will be spending your nights when you’re not in my bed.”

  “Ah, there’s that confidence.”

  “You need to find some of it too.” He winked.

  I grabbed my bag and put a hair tie on my wrist before heading out the door. I wasn’t ready to head back to Philly, but I was never going to be. If I didn’t get it over with now, it was never going to happen.

  Thirteen

  “And it looks exactly the same.” Leo stared out the window as I turned onto Ben Franklin Parkway.

  “How long has it been since you’ve been back?” Philadelphia hadn’t changed much in the years I’d been there either, but then again most cities didn’t on the surface. Change seemed to come in small ways that a casual visitor and most short-term residents would never notice.

  “Eight years.”

  “Whoa. That’s a long time ago.” Eight years before I was still in college blissfully unaware of the real world. I wasn’t nostalgic about my college days, but I missed the bubble sometimes, even though I’d stressed out about everything back then.

  “Yeah, time marches on, huh?”

  “Yes, whether we like it or not.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about the impending ‘30’ only a few years away. I knew it was just a number, but I’d built a long list of things I was supposed to have accomplished by that birthday. It looked like I wasn’t going to have checked many of those off my list by then.

  “It only goes faster as you get older. Sometimes it’s a good thing.”

  “Did you like it?” I steered the conversation away from the passage of time. “Living here?”

  “I did in some ways, not in others.”

  “Same here.” I pulled to a stop at a light. I’d have been able to make it if weren’t for the cyclist in my lane. We weren’t in a hurry, so I tempered down my annoyance despite there being an open bike lane right next to him.

  “I like New York better.”

  “Me too.” I had an attachment to the city I grew up outside of. Growing up in suburbia was a strange experience. You liked to think you were part of the city, but you weren’t. At least not in the same way kids raised as city-dwellers were.

  “Not that we’re biased.”

  I laughed as I drove the familiar route up toward my apartment. I hoped I’d get lucky and find a parking spot, but I didn’t hold my breath. I’d probably have to pay to park in the one lot in the whole area. That is if there was even a spot there. Weekend parking could be dicey in my old neighborhood.

  We turned onto Spring Garden Street. I was surrounded on both sides by the restaurants and stores I’d frequented only weeks before.

  Leo pointed out the window at a large building that looked like a castle fortress. “Eastern State.”

  “I spent over nine months with a view of the prison.” Eastern State Penitentiary was closed and a historic site now,
but it was still strange to wake up in the morning and look at one of the oldest prisons in the United States. It wasn’t exactly a million-dollar view, but it was a two-bedroom we’d been able to afford.

  “I never spent much time in the art museum area.” His eyes were glued to the window.

  “Where were you? Downtown? South Philly?”

  He turned back toward me. “West Philly.”

  “Wait. Were you at Penn?”

  “Yeah. For Business school.”

  “Why am I not surprised you went to Wharton?” A Wharton grad working at a used record store on Long Island wasn’t exactly news in our economy, and Leo seemed far more intelligent than he wanted me to know.

  “Because it’s the business school at Penn.”

  I rolled my eyes before attempting to parallel park into a tiny spot. I failed on the first attempt, but tried again despite the line of cars waiting. I finally edged my way in.

  “Nice parking.”

  “Is that serious or sarcasm?” I’d worked hard to get better at it. I loved driving, but parallel parking wasn’t my thing.

  “Serious. Most people wouldn’t have gone for it.”

  “Beggers can’t be choosers.” I unlocked the doors. “I never spent much time in your neighborhood either.”

  “Cities are like that. Full of neighborhoods that never intersect.”

  “Is that a good or bad thing?" I opened my door.

  "Both, like most things." He waited for the traffic to die down before walking around to meet me on the sidewalk.

  The buzz of the city hit me. The constant noise was one thing I missed. It helped keep you grounded because you could never fully drown out the world. I led the way down the block, toward my second floor apartment. There were never tons of crowds in the neighborhood, but the weekends did bring everyone outside.

  I opened the outer door and headed straight up toward my apartment. Leo followed right behind me. I used the key I'd used a million times before, but it felt different now. Like I was entering someone else's home.

  "You okay?" Leo put an arm on my shoulder right before I pushed open the door.

  "No, but that doesn't really make a difference right now." No matter how much I didn’t want to face the place, I couldn’t avoid it. Putting things off didn’t make them go away.

  I pushed open the door and found a large empty space. Steve hadn’t been joking about moving out. He’d done it already.

  I felt a wave of relief hit me. This wasn't the home I shared with a guy who never really wanted me—it was an empty apartment. There were memories in every corner, but they weren’t right out in front of me. The couch we’d watched countless movies on was gone. The old table we’d bought with full intention of re-staining but never did was missing too. He hadn’t asked me about whether I wanted any of that stuff—and I didn’t. I didn’t want any of it.

  I started to laugh.

  "Is that a good laugh or a bad one?" His eyebrows drew together.

  "A good one."

  I walked further inside and found boxes lined up with my name on it. He'd packed my stuff. From the outside that probably seemed cold, but it wasn't. "He knew me well enough to do it for me."

  “To pack your stuff?" Leo kept his distance.

  "He made it easy on me.”

  I walked into the bedroom and found it empty. Same with the study. He'd done it all. I was surprised he hadn’t shipped my things, until I realized he wanted to give me closure. Steve knew me better than I gave him credit for.

  "Looks like this won't take long." Leo picked up a box. "Should I start bringing the boxes down?"

  "Oh that would be great, thanks." I picked up a large box that was much lighter than its size suggested. It had to be clothes. I glanced around again at the apartment I’d barely seen in the months before I left. I’d been too busy working—and avoiding the reality facing me at home.

  "Do you want some time alone here?"

  I shook my head. "No. I don't.” I wanted to get in and out as fast as possible. I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t upset. I needed to move on, and the only way I could do that was to walk out the door for the last time.

  "Then let's get moving." He shifted the box into one hand and held open the door for me. I was glad for Leo’s physical help as well as the emotional. He’d been right. This wasn’t something I should have done alone.

  Half a dozen trips later we’d moved out the rest of my stuff. I took one last glance at the apartment before I locked the door and slid my key under it. It was over, and as anticlimactic as it was, I knew it was a beginning as much as an end.

  * * *

  “You can’t get provolone. You need to have the real Philly experience.” Leo yammered on as I drove through a part of Philly I didn’t know well.

  “Provolone is as much the Philly experience as whiz.”

  “Is not.” He rested his arm on the armrest between us.

  “Is too.” I continued arguing with him as though we were children. “Why do you care what kind of cheese I get on my cheesesteak?”

  “Because we like the same kinds of food, and I know you’d love it with whiz if you tried it.”

  “I lived here for five years. Don’t you think I would have tried it then if I wanted to?”

  “Not if the people you were with steered you the wrong way.” He held out his hand palm up.

  “Now you’re implying I don’t make my own decisions? Wouldn’t I be doing exactly that if I try the whiz?”

  “Try it. If you don’t like it, I’ll buy you one with provolone.”

  “And you always go to Pat’s?”

  “Yes. It’s the original.”

  “Fine.” I wasn’t sure why I was even arguing. I wasn’t that concerned with whether I’d like the whiz.

  “You’re cute when you get argumentative.”

  “Then you’ll see me cute a lot.”

  He laughed. “Some arguing is good for the soul.”

  “And there goes another wise phrase.”

  “You might as well get used to them.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t count on it.”

  I found a spot a few blocks away and got out. I wasn’t going to argue about the lunch choice or driving out of the way. He’d made the trip with me without a single complaint. I owed him a lot more than a cheesesteak.

  Leo got right in the fast moving line and ordered. “Two whiz wit.”

  He moved down to the second window. “An order of cheese fries and two bottles of water.”

  I kept my thoughts on the cheese fries to myself. On top of a cheese whiz filled sandwich he wanted that?

  A few minutes later we had our sandwiches, fries, and water and took a seat at one of the red tables out front.

  “This had better be good.” My stomach rumbled.

  “It will be. It’s way better than with provolone.”

  “And you know that first hand?”

  “Of course. I’ve tried it.”

  “We’ll see.” I opened my water and took a sip before picking up my paper wrapped cheesesteak. “I’m going in for it.” I took a bite.

  Leo grinned as he watched me chew. “I was right. Admit it.”

  “It’s pretty good.” I set down the sandwich and wiped some dripping cheese off my chin.

  “Pretty good?”

  “It’s better. It does something to the meat and bread.”

  “Exactly.” He took a large bite of his.

  “Are you happy now?”

  “I’m happy because you’re smiling. You haven’t smiled much since we left.”

  “I’m happy.”

  “And don’t forget about your half of the fries.”

  “I think I’m having enough whiz already. They are all yours.”

  “You’re missing out.” He ate a cheese drenched fry.

  “I’m fine. I assure you.” I helped myself to another bite of my cheesesteak. “This is exactly what I needed.”

  “I know it is.”

  “You like
being a know-it-all.”

  “I like making you smile.” He ate a fry.

  “Well now, that’s a good thing.”

  We finished off our food in near silence, but it was the good kind of silence. Ten minutes later we were in the car on our way back home. As I drove away from the city that had been home for five years, I felt sadder than I expected. I was officially closing a chapter of my life, and a good thing or not, it didn’t make the end any easier.

  The comfortable silence remained for most of the drive. It seemed like we were either half-arguing and talking non-stop, or we were silent. Both were comfortable though, and I didn’t miss the polite chatter that usually came from new relationships—or friendships, or whatever it was we were doing. The silence was even more welcome than usual since I was so emotionally exhausted. I wasn't sure what to think or say.

  An hour into the drive I noticed Leo checking his phone as though he were waiting for an incredibly important message. He continued to do it as we hit traffic in Jersey and the drive wore on.

  I turned on the radio, settling on the first station even though it was on commercial. I didn’t particularly care what I listened to as long as it was noise.

  I saw him check his phone again, and I had to ask. "Everything ok?"

  "Oh." He set the phone in his lap, "Yes. Just waiting to hear something."

  "Oh." I wasn't sure what to say. He was back to his vague answers.

  “Sorry if it’s annoying you.”

  “Not annoying.” An old rock song came on, and I turned up the volume.

  “You’re annoyed.”

  “Curious, but not annoyed.” I was both, but I refused to be that girl who needed to know everything.

  His phone buzzed, and he glanced at it.

  "You can do whatever, I don't mind if you take a call."

  He picked up. "Hey, how’s everything? You made it back?” He paused, and I assumed he was listening to someone on the other end. "I went out of town for the day, but I'm on my way back now."

  He looked at me and held the phone away from his ear and covered it. "Could you drop me off in Roslyn again?"

  "Uh, sure.” So much for a night of movie watching and sex. Oh well, he owed me nothing.

  He smiled and mouthed “thanks,” before returning the phone to his ear. "Oh, yeah, you can put her on. Hey, baby. Did you have fun today?"