“We’re friends.”
“Liem doesn’t have friends. Who are you, really?”
This feels a bit like an interrogation, but to be fair, I wouldn’t want a stranger in my house either. The space behind her is the perfect blend of old and new. Refinished hardwood floors, exposed brick along the party wall, a color scheme of earth tones rather than newcomer white. Plenty of light floods from the large windows at the end of the deep space. She has at least three doors, meaning plenty of room to grow. She plans for someone to be here with her, but not Liem.
After everything Liem has told me, I realize lying to a boss babe with my dream house would be pointless. “We met at the restaurant you went to last night,” I say. “I was the one cussing out her boyfriend at the other table.”
Her eyes widen. “That was you? Oh my god, you were everything! So brave and so real.”Oh no, she’s delightful. “You were my inspiration last night. That’s terrible to say, given the context, but you were.”
I want to hug her, but I force myself to focus on my allegiance to Liem. “So, where are . . . ?”
She steps to the side and points to the two cases sitting upright in the corner. When I see them, I have to hold back a laugh.Of course it’s the same set as mine. Same brand, sizes, and color. The only difference is a very Washingtonian evergreen sticker on the front of his carry-on.
I go to it, unzipping the portions Liem requested, checking for his laptop and, discreetly, verifying the ring box is still wrapped in his socks. It’s all here. At least the most fiscally important parts.
“Is he okay?” Natalie asks.
I zip the case and stand, fighting the urge to tell her off the way I would David. She is not him, even if she hurt Liem the way he hurt me. Whether the circumstances of their breakup were better or worse than ours, there’s no sense in comparing when only one of us is crying outside of their ex’s apartment right now.
I try to be as gentle as possible. “Natalie, I don’t know you, and I don’t know what your relationship with Liem was like before this, but no, he’s not okay.” Her eyes drop from mine with remorse. “He saw himself with you—a forever with you—and you stole that from him in a second. Publicly. Breaking up may have been good for you, but it felt very,verybad for him.”
A rueful sigh tells me I’m correct. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”
“But you did,” I say. “He lost you. He lost the life he thought he’d have with you. He is grieving. The least you can do is give him space to go through the emotions he needs to.” Though I’m using Liem’s name, I’m projecting my own feelings. If we are as similar to each other as it seems, my words aren’t far from his truth.
“Give him space? Should I go no contact?” Her question is genuine, not accusatory.
“That’s probably best,” I tell her.
“Okay.” Tears begin to well in her eyes. My heart goes out to her even though it shouldn’t.
“You’re not a bad person,” I tell her. “Liem knows that. He hasn’t said a single negative word about you.”
“That’s kind of the problem,” she says, sniffling. “Liem will be miserable and never say a word if it means he doesn’t have to be alone. He sacrifices his wants and desires for everyone else—like it’s some social debt he’s required to pay to get someone to love him. He gave up his job and left his family to follow me when I never evenimpliedthat was what I wanted.”
“That’s kind of sweet, though, isn’t it? Him putting you and your dreams first.”
“Let me rephrase. He gave up a job that paid himthree hundred thousanddollars per year, minimum, to follow me.”
I blink. “Three what now?”
“All that after I thought I made it clear I didn’t want anything long-term with him.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. I love him, in a way. I do. But is it worth staying with someone you know you’ll never bein lovewith just because the sex is good? Really,reallygood.” She stares into space as if picturing it. “So good.”
This is the kind of tea I usually crave. If only we were on the same side of this breakup scenario. “Natalie?”
She rejoins me in the real world. “What was I saying?”
“No future, hot sex.”
“Right,” she agrees. “What I’m trying to say is, it would be wrong for me to let him keep chipping away at himself to fit into the lifeIbuilt forme. I have my dream job, in my dream apartment, in my dream city. I’m happy in this life I made for myself, and he deserves to feel that way too.”
An anxious ache fills my chest again. Talking to her is like looking at my relationship from the outside. Did David find his perfectlife here as well? One that didn’t include me? Was all that kept us together proximity and my willingness to accept thatmydreams were less tangible than his? Why else would I have let myself become so reliant on him, pausing my efforts to create the life I’ve always wanted for myself?
I will likely never have the answers to those questions. Nothing can change what happened; I can only move forward, refocusing on me.
