by Nova Rain
“I’m moving to Vermont.”
Even thinking about uttering those words to Catherine broke my heart to pieces. I didn’t like the idea of saying them to Rachel, either. Alas, the successful attorney wasn’t the one who needed me the most. My flight was going to hurt her, yes, but it wouldn’t destroy her.
On top of this, the news of the murder of that reporter was weighing on my mind. Chris and I spent almost an hour on the phone discussing this horrible incident, and for the most part, he tried to assure me that he had nothing to do with it. He didn’t have to. The man I knew, the man who had offered me an opportunity to do a decent job, wouldn’t do something so despicable. In any case, however, I could deal with this another day. Speaking to my “sisters” was a priority.
Under the veil of darkness, I was making my way back to Rachel’s house. With an umbrella over my head to shield myself from the torrent, I kept wondering how I would announce this information to my friends. I sidestepped a narrow pool of water, tension creeping through me more and more by the second.
Does my approach really matter? I don’t think so. Leaving the city is leaving the city. It means walking away from my life here, including Catherine and Rachel.
I rang the lawyer’s bell, understanding that this would be perhaps the last time I visited her before I moved to Vermont.
“I’ve had a really long, crappy day,” she commented, leaving her door open for me. “Don’t ask. Come on in and help us decide on a movie.”
Her bluntness hadn’t come as a surprise. We had been seeing each other every single day since the attempt against Catherine. At the end of her phrase though, all I could think of was that her day was about to get a lot worse. While she nibbled on popcorn, our mutual friend was going through a list of movies on Netflix.
“Hey,” Catherine offered me a small smile. “What do you think we should watch? I think we should stick to comedy. I know I could use a good laugh.”
“Girls, I’ve got news,” I started, standing over the couch. “Chris got me a job in a research project with a major pharmaceutical company, called ‘Phoenix Pharma.’ They…”
“He did?” Catherine squinted up at me.
“That’s fantastic!” Rachel cheered, putting her hands together.
“Don’t get too excited yet, because there’s a catch,” I went on, maintaining my serious expression. “The job is in Vermont.”
“Ver…” Catherine ceased talking halfway through the word, her jaw dropping to the floor.
“That’s still great news,” Rachel stated, flashing me a warm look. “You’ve never worked in your field. Now’s your chance. So, what else do you know about this job?”
“I didn’t know much until Chris called them this morning,” I replied, focusing my gaze on her. “It’s a two-year project. I’ll be living in the facility with the rest of my colleagues. You guys should see that place. It’s surrounded by a huge forest, and the nearest town is six miles away. As for my salary, it will be well into the six figures.”
“It does sound great,” Rachel gave me one more comment, before putting her arms around me. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Ahem…” I cleared my throat, forcing her to end the hug. Looking back, she saw what had drawn my attention. Catherine was holding a red pillow to her face in an attempt to muffle her sniffles.
“Honey…” Rachel whispered and moved around the table to join her on the couch. “Rosanna’s not moving to Paris. She’ll visit; we’ll visit, too. Besides, this is only going to be for two years.”
“It’s not that…” Catherine claimed, easing the pillow away. “I mean it is, but there’s something else, too.”
“What is it?” I shrugged my shoulders, eager to hear what she had to say.
“He’s trying to get rid of you,” she said, speaking her mind, staring into the void as a tear spilled from her eye.
“I beg your pardon, but he’s not,” I disagreed, my tone strengthening. “We actually flew up to Vermont last night, because he wanted to show me the facility himself. He promised to visit me whenever he could.”
“Rosie, I don’t know if Catherine’s right, but…” Rachel faltered. “Whichever way you look at it, you guys will have a long-distance relationship. I have no reason to doubt him. He will visit, but will that be enough for you? Think about it. Let’s say you see him at 5pm on a Tuesday afternoon. He’ll stay for what, five hours? Six maybe? Then he’ll have to fly back to New York, and God knows when he’ll be able to do that again.”
“I know it’s going to be hard,” I attempted a calm voice, unwilling to disagree with her or Catherine again. “But guys, this is the opportunity of a lifetime. I’ll finally make enough money to pay off those damn loans, not to mention the experience I’ll gain by participating in this project.”
“Yeah, but that’s it!” Catherine shouted, whipping her head in my direction. “That’s all you’ll get from this fancy job. I’m asking you, is it worth two years of solitude? Two years of hardly any friends and a boyfriend you’ll be seeing three or four times a month?”
I took two consecutive deep breaths, trying hard to maintain my composure. “Not all of us are as lucky as you, Cath. Your parents still chip in on rent. Rachel, you’re my role model. You make decent money, and pretty soon, you’ll be able to afford an even better place than this. I on the other hand, have to bust my butt to pay off my father’s debt, God rest his soul. I can finally do that without having to shake my ass for one-dollar bills. So, yeah, it is worth everything you just said, Catherine.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Rachel assumed her usual, firm tone. “Except the ‘boyfriend’ part. You’ve never been in a long-distance relationship, have you?”
“No. Why?”
“It’s a lot harder than you imagine,” her tone weakened and she shook her head in disapproval. “My big sister Amy was in one during our freshman year in college. Her boyfriend Harry was a sailor on a cruise ship. He only went from New York to Miami, but he was away for ten days at a time. Amy was suffering. Her friends would talk about their boyfriends, and all she could say was how long it would take for Harry to come back to New York. When our dog Chappy died, it pushed her over the edge. She called him and broke up with him over the phone, because he couldn’t be there for her.”
I swallowed hard, dragging my gaze away from her. “Wow…”
“Look, you’re right. This is a huge chance for you to make a name for yourself in your field,” Rachel continued in a tighter tone. “But to do that, you’ll have to sacrifice everything else you have here.”
“Thanks for the remark,” I said, bringing my eyes back to hers. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some thinking to do.”
“I understand,” Rachel nodded softly, while Catherine stared up at me in silence. “Let me walk you out.”
Damn it, Rach… Did you have to remind me of Amy and Harry? For the three months their relationship lasted, my friend wouldn’t stop mentioning how bad her sister felt. More often than not, she would overhear her crying on the phone, telling him how much she missed him. One of her most common phrases was: “I miss you so much it hurts. It physically hurts.”
Strolling back out into the rain, I didn’t bother putting my umbrella over my head. I let water rush down my scalp, raindrops plopping into a puddle behind Rachel’s black Audi. Regardless of my friends’ reaction to this news, one thing was certain. I was in for a long night, full of contemplation, anxiety, and stress. Once I walked back to my apartment, I would hear the gentle tapping of rain onto my windows, accompanying each and every one of my thoughts. Instead of some fun with Rachel and Catherine—and maybe some comforting words—I had to reach a decision.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chris
“I’m going to sleep for a thousand years.”
I smiled to myself, staring at my bed. I had never looked forward to resting my weary head so much. I’d had long days in the past, but this was far beyond that. It had been taken straight fr
om hell.
The crowd of reporters who had followed me to the police station didn’t bother covering anything else. On the contrary, they came straight back to the building and camped outside. They asked questions of anyone unfortunate enough to walk up to them. In one case, they swarmed Ronald Hines, owner of the “RH Electronics” franchise and one of my most valued customers. Being a laid-back guy, the fifty-three-year-old didn’t have a problem answering them. Unfortunately, though, those people had no measure. None of them respected the fact that he was there to do business. They just went on and on with the same old questions, managing to enrage him. Forty-five minutes after his arrival, he took off, calling them names. And those good reporters didn’t let that go unpunished. Quite a few of them wrote some very critical articles about the CEO of “RH Electronics,” which surfaced online later. They returned the favor by calling him names, too, such as “aggressive,” “brute,” and “short-fused.”
Had it not been for my security, they would have barged in the minute I got back from the police station. For once that day, Sam made himself useful, and called police headquarters to request for an additional fifteen men be sent. I spent the rest of the day believing that I was under siege. My besiegers were armed with far more dangerous things than guns or assault rifles. They were holding microphones and were ready to drag my name through the mud. I wanted to scream at them that I was innocent. I was dying to get out there and let their viewers know about their crappy attitude. It would have been a waste of time, though. This was the press. They were more powerful than the three strongest armies of the world put together.
But, at some point during the night, two, almost simultaneous noises disrupted my slumber. My phone was buzzing on my nightstand, and someone was pressing my apartment buzzer repeatedly. I reached over and picked it up, rubbing my blurry eyes. The caller ID read “Rosanna.”
“Oh, man…” I sighed and scooted over to the edge of my bed. “Why, baby? Why are you doing this to me?”
I threw on my robe and dragged my feet to the staircase, tension awakening my senses. A sinking feeling spread through me when I buzzed her in. Something inside told me that I wasn’t going to like this one bit. For a moment, I believed that this was a booty call. Still, a glance at the clock in my kitchen shattered that notion. It was almost 4am. Unless she and her friends had been up all night discussing sexual experiences, this had nothing to do with anything carnal. I yanked my front door open and stood there, waiting to hear the distinctive sound of the elevator stopping. Catching its echo, I tapped my foot on the floor.
One footstep bounced off the walls of the hallway. Then another. Before it faded into nothingness, I heard drops of water hitting the floor. As Rosanna showed herself, I found the source of that sound. She was soaking wet. Drenched tresses were flowing down her face. Her red coat had acquired a deeper shade. I could even see water dripping down the sides of her neck.
“Jesus!” I exclaimed, my eyes wide. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Nothing,” she uttered in an urgent tone. “I’ve just been walking around for hours.”
“In the pouring rain?!” I groaned, pushing the door shut. “Are you serious? Come on; let’s get you of these wet clothes before you catch a cold.”
“No,” she gasped out, padding across my living room. “Besides, I won’t be staying long. Chris…” she paused. “I’ve been doing some thinking about that job in Vermont. I’m not going to take it.”
“Excuse me?” Surprised pitched my voice so high that it tormented my own ears.
“I’m not taking that job in Vermont,” Rosanna repeated her intentions, her tone steady. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you expected of me, but I can’t leave New York. My whole life is here. You. My friends. My mother…”
“What I expected of you?” I pointed to myself, furrowing my brow. “This was never about me. It was about you and getting your life together. Doing what you studied in college. Working in science, like you’ve been dreaming. Now you’re telling me you won’t do it because you’ll have to give up your life here?”
“Why is that so strange?” She wondered, staring at me in an expression of confusion. “Chris, what are we going to do if I actually move to Vermont? How often will we see each other? Sorry, scratch that. How often will your company allow us to see each other?”
“My company hasn’t stopped me from seeing you,” I groaned, this conversation feeling more and more surreal.
“Yeah, because you’re two blocks away,” Rosanna insisted, her face stiff. “What happens if you’re two and-a-half hours away? And that’s if you can fly up there. The weather in Vermont is very unstable, especially during the winter.”
“Do you really think the weather would keep me away from you?” I asked, my tone mellower. “I would find a way to come to you, baby. If not by chopper, then by car. I’ve got four of the best off-road vehicles money can buy in my garage. Fine, it would take me longer, but I wouldn’t mind, because I’d get to see your beautiful face.”
“That’s very sweet, but…” She raised her hand up to her mouth. “How long would you stay, Chris? You can’t run a multi-million-dollar company from Vermont, can you?”
“I own that company!” I assumed an emphatic tone, trying to get through to her. “I cannot go tomorrow morning, I can take time off, I can do whatever the fuck I like!”
“No, you can’t,” Rosanna disagreed, her voice beginning to tremble. “Like I said, it’s not a shoe store, Chris. It’s not some small-time restaurant or a neighborhood bar. It’s a company that’s worth millions. You can’t just up and leave anytime you like.”
“Do you want to know what I think?” Annoyance deepened my tone as I put my hands on my waist.
“Yeah.”
“I think someone likes her life just the way it is,” I added, my confident footsteps bringing me closer to her. “I believe she wants to keep her job at the strip club and the hotel. She’s struggling to get by, but she’s used to hardships. She’s tough. She’s been taking this sort of punishment for years. Why stop now? Because she finally found a decent job? Nah, she’ll leave that to less ‘street’ girls than her.”
“You’re wrong, Chris,” she spoke, tears rising up in her eyes. “And I can’t believe how cruel you are. Where is that gentleman I met in the Ritz-Carlton lobby?”
“I thought you had ambition, Rosanna,” I told her, ignoring her question. “I thought you wanted to start a career as a scientist.”
“I do, but…”
“You’re happy where you are,” I finished her sentence. “Dear God…” I whispered, looking up at the ceiling. “I didn’t like it that we wouldn’t see each other so often. I hated it, but I was willing to make that sacrifice, so you could finally be where you belong. In a lab. Running tests. I guess I wanted this more than you did. Just leave.”
“Fine,” she exhaled, pushing her hair back from her face. “We both need some time to relax. I’ll…”
“I didn’t make myself clear,” I stated, my face stone-cold. “We’re over. I don’t want to be with a woman who’d rather struggle to get by, than do something to pull herself out of the misery she lives in.”
“What?” She squealed, tears running down her cheeks. “You’re breaking up with me because I’m not ambitious enough for you?”
“I’m breaking up with you because you don’t have a shred of self-respect,” I pointed out, a burning sensation shooting down my spine. “If you did, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation. Good luck, Rosanna.”
At that, I turned around and headed back to the staircase, her screams ringing in my ears. My heart longed for another kiss, another hug or just a few moments where I could look into those reddened eyes. But it was my heart that prompted me to find her that goddamn job. I listened to it, and it led to disaster. I wouldn’t do that anymore. Logic took charge. In my mind, Rosanna just didn’t have the will to start over. And I wasn’t going to be in a relationship with a woman who preferre
d a life of financial hardship over a life of dignity.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rosanna
I walked out of Chris’s apartment, regretting my decision to visit him that night. Back out in the cold, I recalled his harsh words:
“You don’t have a shred of self-respect.”
I couldn’t recognize him. How could the kind man who dedicated a song to me the night we met have said something like that? The point of our conversation wasn’t my self-respect anyway. I tried to explain to him that I couldn’t live so far from the city. Everyone that mattered to me lived there. As for his statement about doing anything he wanted, well, that had to be one of the most naïve things I’d heard in my whole life. Maybe Chris had forgotten that I’d found him working hours after everyone else had gone home. He hadn’t made millions by fooling around with women and being lazy. He hadn’t followed such a recipe for disaster, which was what he would do, if he spent too much time away from his business. Empires took years to build, and days to lose. Office Media Solutions wasn’t going to be the first or the last to suffer such a terrible fate.
Lightning forked up in the sky, catching my eye. For just a fleeting moment, I watched it stretch outward, before a boom of thunder shook the ground beneath my feet. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling like someone had delivered a massive blow to my chin. My heart was staggering like a heavyweight boxer about to go down. Nevertheless, I didn’t have any ropes to hang on to. There wasn’t going to be a countdown. There was just going to be a sea of loneliness, in which I was already swimming. I knew those waters like the back of my hand. They were always rough. They were always seeking to claim their next victim. I just hoped it wouldn’t be me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chris
Work…