“You can’t stay,” Wayne asks, making a reach for my arm. “Just for a few days? To give me a chance?”
“Stay where? My apartment is empty. I already spent a couple hundred on a one-way plane ticket. As for my things, all of them are already on a truck to Tampa.” The revelation hits him hard and he sways in place like a kid lost at the circus. It’s endearing in an odd sort of way, so I step closer and lay a hand on his arm as the car rolls to a stop just a few paces away.
Now that it’s officially over, there’s nothing to stop me from saying the things I haven’t had the courage to offer up before.
“I loved you, you know that?” I say. “Even before all this. I mean, Iwantedyou when we were younger, but as soon as things looked like they might get serious this time around, I actually let myself fall in love with you. Like, I could see our future together.”
“We still could,” he pleads, reaching down to take my hand. “We could.”
“I’m not in high school anymore, Wayne.” Leaning closer, I give his hand a squeeze so it doesn’t sound like a total insult when I say, “But you are. It’s not your fault. You’re just a boy, and what I need right now is a man.”
I punctuate that by pulling my hand away and laying it on my belly.
“Goodbye, Wayne. Give my best to your folks.”
With that I roll my bag over to the waiting car, lift it into the trunk, and climb into the back. The driver pulls away, having the good sense not to say anything.
Wayne stands in the parking lot watching us go. Much as I know I should look away, I can’t take my eyes off him until we’re around the corner and he’s out of sight. I hope I never see him again.
WAYNE
The love of my life leaves me standing in the parking lot of her apartment building, staring after her and gaping with desperation like a fish flung out of the water and watching the waves receding away from him.
I feel about as strangled as that fish, too. My wobbly legs nearly cause me to collapse onto the pavement. My vision blurs. Panic overwhelms me. The only thing that keeps me conscious is the knowledge that I have to stop her.
I get in my car and rush to the airport.
By the timeI’ve parked, raced inside, and stormed to the desk with my heart pounding, a realization sets in.I’m already too late.Traffic was insane. I check my phone, and if I’m correct about the flight she’s on, there’s nothing I can do. Her plane left 10 minutes ago. With a sigh of exhaustion, I collapsed on the nearest bench and break down sobbing.
Everything hits me all at once—loss, understanding, anger. I’ve fucked myself over before, but never to this extent. Neverabout something I cared so much about. My tendency to be a selfish, childish asshole has never threatened to ruin me like this. Something needs to change.
Ineed to change.
I can’t bear to lose Katie.
There’s no one to blame here but me, and the guilt gnaws ceaselessly at my heart. I’ve made a million empty promises to her, pretty words that I didn’t understand even as I whispered them into her ear. Begging her to come back like this will only throw us right back into the same turmoil. I keep making the same mistake of swearing to give her the world but always keeping my own little piece of it just a little bit private. I can’t do that anymore. If I’m going to commit, I need to give my 100 percent. No holding back. No limits. And I need to prove to her that I can truly do it this time, which means…
I need to give her something of value to come back to. Themethat I am now isn’t worth that. Nothing but real action will do. I need tangible proof that I’m changing.
I walk back to my car. I don’t have a full plan yet, but something is brewing. It’s time to win her back—for real, and forever.
I allowmyself one full day to panic and grieve. No one pays much attention when I lock myself in my room and spend my time oscillating between crying into my sheets and hiding my tears under the spray of the shower. I emerge from my room the next day with bags under bloodshot eyes, but all Mary does is slide me a cup of coffee.
Some sympathy would be nice, but I’ve done nothing to earn it. Hell, I haven’t even earned the coffee.
The important thing is that I have a plan.
I have something I can fix. Something I’m good at.
I bury myself in the lawsuit that lost Katie her job.
Her old coworkers are surprised to see me when I show up and ask for her client notes, but no one questions me when I say I’m taking the case on pro bono. David Chase’s lawyers are good at their jobs, and they’re good at stalling, too, but I manage to get Katie’s case notes admitted into evidence.
I have to be careful with my approach: I can’t actually be her lawyer, per se, without her signing me on. But what Icando is get under the skin of these people suing her, make them think I’m taking her case officially, and get them to back down.
So, I start getting under their skin. I make waves. And sure enough, they start getting very, very nervous.
Three weeks go by. As frustrating as the length of time is, I relish watching every failure of my opponents. Their case crumbles against the evidence I provide. Mission accomplished.
