In the Wake of Wanting

by Lori L. Otto

  “I don’t want to be the only one eating.”

  “Sir, would you like to place an order?”

  “Yes,” I say, frustrated with her. I decide to order dishes I know she likes. “I need a bowl of mulligatawny, an order of the tulsi malai kebab, and some garlic naan.”

  “Just regular,” Zaina finally speaks up. “Not garlic. Just regular naan.”

  “There you go,” I say, finishing the order and looking over at her to see if she wants to add or change anything. She shakes her head.

  “Will that complete your order?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the name?”

  “Trey Holland.”

  “Oh, Mr. Holland! Right! I’m putting in your order now. We’ll have it ready in ten minutes.”

  “That’s perfect,” I tell him. “Thank you.”

  “Can’t believe you still remember my order by heart,” she says. “You didn’t even need to look at the menu.”

  “We’ve been there enough times,” I remind her. “If I didn’t remember, we’d probably need to worry about some sort of head injury that resulted in memory-reduction.”

  “Speaking of medical issues… any more asthma attacks?”

  “No.” I sigh heavily. “Zai, it was a panic attack.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. Something Asher had told me brought it on. I thought it was asthma, but the EMTs explained it wasn’t. And after it was over, I realized it felt different than asthma, too. There was no wheezing. Nothing like that. But there were heart palpitations. Shortness of breath. And, well, sheer panic.”

  “Over what?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “It’s not relevant anymore, and nothing I want to even relive. Especially while I’m driving.” I don’t say it to worry her; I say it so she’ll allow me to move on.

  “Okay. Wow. I’m sorry. That must have been scary.”

  “It’s not something I want to repeat. Oh, but speaking of Asher…” I tell her the latest news about his arrest and what new evidence the police found. She seems very relieved and happy, but when I start talking about the story Coley and I had been working on, I sense that she doesn’t want to hear about it.

  While Zaina takes the food into the kitchen, I carry her bags into the guest room, but then quickly re-think that. The sheets haven’t been washed since Coley’s slept in them, and something doesn’t seem right about that. Normally, Jenny would have done the linens today. I guess Zaina’s sleeping in my room tonight.

  It’s one night. I set her suitcases on what I’ve always considered her side of the bed, then stand up and straighten the comforter and fluff her pillow. After taking a deep breath, I’m ready to get the conversation started and–more importantly–behind me.

  “What’s that?” she asks, pointing at my lone bottle of alcohol, when I join her in the kitchen.

  “Bourbon,” I tell her. “Would you like some? It’s good with Coke.” And with that, I decide to pour myself a glass, thinking it will help get me through what’s bound to be a difficult evening.

  “Since when do you drink bourbon?”

  “Since… awhile, Zai. I just didn’t want you to know.”

  “I’d rather have some wine.”

  “I don’t have wine. I don’t have a way to get you wine.”

  “How’d you get that?”

  “It’s really not important, Zaina. Someone buys it for me.”

  “Why are you drinking it tonight?”

  “Because it relaxes me,” I admit. “I’m not doing it to get drunk. I don’t do that anymore. I mean, I rarely do it. And if I’ve done it, it’s been when I’ve been at home, so I can’t get into any trouble.”

  “Was it when Coley was here?” she asks.

  “Of course not.”

  She takes a bite of her food and eats quietly while I think of how to begin. She speaks before I have a chance. “Did you cheat on me, Trey?”

  “God, no, Zai. I would never do that.”

  “Good. If you had told me you’d cheated on me, I couldn’t have handled that. That’s my deal breaker. You know that. But anything else, Tria, I’m sure we can work through it.” She reaches out for me and pries my fingers away from the glass I was clutching, and then holds my hand in hers. I stare at it for a few seconds before pulling it away.

  “It’s not like that. Do you remember how much we used to laugh?” I ask her. “How easy it used to be to think of things to talk about? To find things to discuss that didn’t strike a nerve or bore one another?”

  “We still laugh.”

  “We don’t laugh like we used to. Not like we did in high school, until our sides hurt. Back then, every time we hung out was a good time. But when Callen and Max split, things for us suffered. And when they went off to school and left us to entertain ourselves? It got worse.

  “Then you went away to Oxford, and this long distance thing isn’t working for us at all, Zai.”

  “We only have another two years of it, though, Trey,” she argues. “We’re almost halfway there. You told me you were okay with me going away to school.”

  “And I would never hold you back now,” I tell her. “Especially now,” I add. “When you’re here, it’s… it’s stressful. It’s not carefree like it once was. I feel like we’re an old married couple, and there is no reason why we should feel that way. Not before we’re even married. To me, that’s indicative of a problem. Of a distinct incompatibility.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s familiarity, Trey, that’s all it is.”

  “I’m… I’m bored.” She’s taken aback by this admission. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry for saying that. You’re not boring. We are boring.”

  “Perhaps that’s your problem.”

  “That’s the thing. It’s not just my problem. I have fun with other people.”

  “Like who?”

  “My friends. People I hang out with here.”

  “Well, this is just because I’m not here, then, Trey. It’s taking us too long to get back in sync when I come home, and things are awkward. I get it. I feel it, too. But don’t give up. Once I move back permanently, everything will right itself. I promise.”

  “Don’t you see? That’s–” I shake my head, wondering how to make my point clearer. “We’re working way too hard at this when we really shouldn’t have to. I’m not going to waste another two and a half years waiting it out in the hopes that one day our relationship may ‘right itself.’ That’s time I can’t get back. That’s time I can be pursuing other avenues.”

  “Dating other people,” she speaks over me.

  “Possibly. Yes.”

  She pushes her food away and plays with the ends of her hair, thinking quietly to herself. “What if I transferred to Columbia? Then you wouldn’t have to wait.”

  “It’s not about the waiting, Zai. It’s about the right person, and I don’t think you’re that person for me.”

  “You used to,” she says as she tears up.

  “I did. You’re right, I absolutely did. Zaina, I would never have professed my love for you or taken such serious steps with you, had I not believed that you were the person I would end up with. But we both had such narrow views of the world then.”

  “And you’re so worldly now, huh? You still haven’t left the island, Trey. You’ve barely left home,” she adds sarcastically.

  “I’ve met a lot of new people. People that I hadn’t known all my life. People who’ve lived outside of our Manhattan bubble and shown me things I’ve never seen. I think you’re an amazing woman, Zaina. I truly do. I’m just no longer in love with you.”

  I see her face crumple in devastation just before she covers it with her hands. Her sobs are loud and intemperate. I’ve watched her cry many times, but never like this. My throat hurts and feels constricted. When I blink, evidence of tears show in the sudden blear of the room.

  “Zaina, please don’t cry.”

  “I get to cry!” she says angrily, revealing her red eyes. “I flew all the w
ay to America to try to reconnect with you, and you fucking dump me! No, I definitely get to cry, Trey! And you get to hear it. That’s your penance.”

  “I never, ever wanted to hurt you,” I tell her. “But this is the only way I see this ending for us. I didn’t want to do it over the phone because I thought you deserved a conversation in-person. I hope you don’t regret coming here.”

  “Are you kidding me? Of course I regret it! You mean we’d still be dating if I’d stayed there? Did I just walk right into your plan to destroy everything we have worked so hard to protect for four years of our lives?”

  “I was going to fly to Oxford over my spring break,” I tell her. “I’d been thinking about it already.”

  “So I would have had another few weeks to convince you that this is a big mistake.”

  “I’ve made up my mind, Zaina.”

  “Oh,” she says with somewhat of a maniacal laugh. “Well, there’s no turning back from that. If I’ve learned anything in being with you, it’s that.”

  I don’t say anything at this.

  “And how are you so sure I’m not the right person, Trey?”

  I stand up to lean against the kitchen island, putting some distance between us. “It will feel differently when I find her.”

  “How are you so certain of that?” She narrows her eyes.

  I stare at her, gauging her ire and wondering how honest I should be with her right now. The fact of the matter is, the moment I step out in public with Coley and share one kiss with her, or even so much as take her hand in mine, it will be splashed all over the internet. Zaina will find out. This isn’t a relationship I’d ever be able to hide from her. “Because I’ve felt it, Zai.”

  “What do you mean, you’ve felt it?”

  I shake my head at her in warning, hoping she understands what she’s asking. I’m sure she does, but I don’t think she could ever be prepared for a truthful response. “Things are effortless with her. There’s no unnecessary drama. Just the thought of her makes me smile,” I say while I smile, looking beyond Zaina and into the guest room where I could expect Coley to awaken every morning last week. “I can completely be myself when I’m with her. Every time she walks into a room, she brings daylight with her and infuses fresh air into every space around us. My chest tightens; I lose my breath for a second. When her eyes meet mine, it’s the best moment of my day. A knowing smile breaks across her face, too. It’s something undeniable. Something that’s greater than both of us. Than all of us.”

  “It’s no mystery who ‘she’ is, I’m guessing,” Zaina states.

  I stare into her eyes and say the word that has taken residence in my soul. “Coley.”

  She pushes her entire placemat of food off of the table with force, creating a splattered mess of chicken and soup on my hardwood floor, cabinets, chairs, jeans and shoes. I’m just glad she didn’t transfer anything into my ceramic dishes.

  “Nice, Zaina. Thanks.”

  “I knew something was up when you invited her over to stay with you. You wouldn’t invite me, but you invited her? You said you didn’t cheat on me, Trey!” she hollers, standing up and leaning against the table.

  “First of all, I didn’t cheat on you. Secondly, yeah, that probably was a good indicator, because I had no difficulty in extending the invitation to her and felt absolutely no anxiety when she was here. It’s the exact opposite of the way it’s been with you.” I probably shouldn’t have said it, but my anger level is rising.

  “How could you say you didn’t cheat on me when you had those feelings for her?”

  “I can’t help how I feel, Zaina. I can’t go outside in the freezing cold and make myself feel hot. I can’t stand here in a puddle of mulligatawny and not be pissed off. I can’t be in her presence and not feel like I’m in love with her. The thing is, I never acted on it. I have wanted so badly to feel the warmth of her skin against mine–but aside from the occasional sympathetic hug or friendly pat on the arm, I’ve been unable to do that. I never tried. She never tried. I have too much respect for you, and she has too much respect for the relationship you and I have.”

  “That’s a bunch of shit and you know it!” she cries. “If she had respect for what we had, she would have kept her distance. She wouldn’t have stayed with you, Trey. She crossed a line. You crossed a line by letting her, too. Whether you physically did anything or not, that’s inconsequential. You betrayed me emotionally. You should have told me you had feelings for her the second you thought you did.”

  “And what would that have accomplished?”

  “I would have told you to stay away from her,” she says.

  “I wouldn’t have. Zaina, we were already doomed before I met Coley. I know you’re going to believe she is why this is happening, but that’s not the case. The only good time we had over Christmas was our anniversary. The rest of the time felt forced or… just expected.”

  “That’s because we didn’t plan enough special things to do!” she says. “We should travel more or go see more of our friends or things while I’m in town.”

  “We shouldn’t have to have constant distractions from one another when you’re here! This is what I’m talking about!” I shout. “We should be able to enjoy simply being in a quiet room together at the same time. That’s never happened. And it’s a thing, Zaina. It’s a thing that happens!”

  “What, because it happens with you and Coley?” she asks sarcastically.

  “Yeah, it does, and it happens with all the other successful couples I know. We’ve been broken for a long time. We were great high school sweethearts, Zaina, but I don’t think we were meant for anything beyond that.”

  “You don’t think. You don’t think. You don’t think! Well I think otherwise! I think you’re wrong!” she screams as she trudges through the mess she’s made toward the bedrooms.

  “Zaina, not on the carpet!” I plead behind her. Of course she doesn’t care. She walks into my bedroom, looks around, and then comes back to the edge of the kitchen.

  “Where are my things?”

  I swallow hard. “On your side of the bed.”

  “Just to be clear. She never slept in this bed, right?”

  “No, Zaina.” I don’t bother to hide my annoyance with her petty question.

  “Good, because I’m not sleeping where that skank slept,” she says definitively as she throws both of her suitcases on my bed and begins to unpack them.

  “She slept in this apartment. Would you like me to take you home?” I ask sarcastically.

  “Are you already, like, dating her?” she asks as she starts placing her things–all her things–into my bureau drawers. I walk toward the rooms, kicking off my shoes before I step on the carpet even though it’s already stained with soup.

  “No. Again, I haven’t cheated on you,” I remind her, “and what do you think you’re doing?”

  “Making myself at home.”

  “You’re only staying the night,” I tell her softly with a sigh, putting my hand on top of hers as she tucks more undergarments next to my socks. “You can’t stay any longer than that. I’m sorry.”

  She breaks down again, putting her arms around me and crying into my chest like she did at the airport. “I wanted a chance to try, Tria. A chance to enjoy being in the same room together.”

  “You had four years, Zai, and now I’m in love with Coley. I tried telling myself not to fall for her so many times over the past few weeks. If I couldn’t stop myself, there’s no way you can change the way I feel about her. I want the chance to be with her.”

  She pushes me away from her. “Get out.”

  “It’s my room.”

  “Get out!”

  “Fine.” I walk back toward the kitchen, jumping when I hear my door slam behind me. Close the door all you want, Zai; there’s no lock. After removing my socks and rolling up my jeans, I survey the damage and start cleaning up. If Jenny hadn’t been sick this weekend, I’d definitely call her to tackle this–I’d offer her a ridiculous
amount of money. I don’t even like to do light cleaning. This is a disaster, and I don’t even own a mop. I wish I’d never ordered mulligatawny.

  Ten minutes later, I’m stripped down to my briefs and undershirt to try to save the rest of my clothes. After rinsing out one of the cloths and seeing the tint of the yellow spices linger, I started to worry that the food would leave stains in my favorite jeans. I’d texted my sister, and she told me to soak them in my washing machine, so I did so immediately.

  Five minutes after that, my phone rings. Max. It’s not a coincidence, I’m sure.

  Still in the midst of cleaning, I look toward the bedroom before hitting the answer button.

  “Hey, Max.”

  “You dumped Zany!?”

  “We broke up… yeah.”

  “You were supposed to marry her!”

  “Says who?”

  “It was the plan! It was always the plan!”

  “It was never my plan… that’s why I never proposed.”

  “So your idea yesterday was to break up with her today,” he says, reaching a moment of clarity. “Why didn’t you tell me yesterday?”

  “Because, I don’t know, Max, I thought she should be the first to know.”

  “And it was for this other girl, too.”

  “No,” I tell him. “That may be what Zaina’s telling you, but this has been a long time coming, Max. Things just haven’t been the same with us for a while. Coley may be the impetus that made me stop delaying the inevitable, but it was coming. And you’ll really like her.”

  “Doubtful, Trey. Zaina’s one of my best friends. You’re the other one. How are things ever going to be normal around us?” he asks.

  “We survived the breakup between you and Callen, didn’t we? We’ll all survive this one. Plus, you and I are as good as brothers, so you’re stuck with me. We’re family.”

  “Doesn’t mean I can’t be pissed at you.”

  “That’s true, Max. But I know you’ll eventually get over it,” I tell him. “When you come home for spring break, I want you to meet her. I want you to give her a chance.”

  “Maybe Zaina and I will want to go somewhere,” he says, which sounds more like a threat.