by Jen Trinh
◆◆◆
On Friday, we packed up our things and flew to San Francisco. We were greeted at the airport by our entire family, my mom’s sisters, my cousins, and my dad’s side of the family, too. My mom and I both cried as we were enveloped by relative after relative, every one of whom shared our pain.
Family. Something Anna would never understand.
◆◆◆
I showed up to Stumpstash’s SF office on Monday. As soon as Cassie spotted me, she ran over and gave me a hug. My coworkers also came over and said comforting words or put their hands on my shoulders, awkwardly patting me. I gritted my teeth at the polite bullshit. They hardly knew anything about me and certainly knew nothing about my father. But I thanked them for their concern anyway and made to walk to the guest seating area, when Cassie took my hand and pulled me into an empty conference room.
“Ian. I’m so, so sorry for your loss.” She bit her lip. “But why didn’t you pick up—”
“Cassie,” I interrupted, sighing, “I’m sorry for not picking up. I had to talk to so many of my relatives, I didn’t want to talk to anyone else.”
“I’m sorry.” She patted my arm. “I didn’t...will you...did you at least talk to Anna?”
I shook my head. “I’ll talk to her when I get back. I don’t want to deal with her right now.”
“Why don’t you just—”
“Cassie.” I stood up. “I’ve gotta catch up on work.” I squeezed her shoulder. “Thanks for caring.”
I quickly walked out of the room and left her behind.
But when I got to the desk, I took out my phone and texted Anna. Let’s chat when I get back next week.
She responded a few minutes later. Ok. Are you okay?
I didn’t respond. She knew the answer.
◆◆◆
“We should move back here,” I said in Mandarin, spooning fish onto my mom’s plate. We were at dinner at her sister’s house with my uncle and my younger cousin.
“That’s a great idea,” said my aunt. She patted my mom’s hand. “Come live with us. Lianyang moved out, so you can take his old room.”
“Or you can stay with me, Ma. I’m going to move here, too.” I bit into a slice of roasted duck meat.
She looked at me. “You’re going to move here?”
“Of course, if you do. My company has an office here. And it’ll be nice to be closer to family.”
“Don’t you have a life in New York? Friends? Girlfriends?” She gave me a meaningful look.
I think my dad had told her about Anna. Not that it mattered now.
I shook my head. “I can have all of that here.” I smiled at her and piled more fish onto her plate. “C’mon, let’s just move here.”
She didn’t say anything after that, but I could tell that she liked the idea. My aunt and uncle did, too, and they talked about it as if it were a done deal. So that night, I started looking into selling her house in Princeton, as well as my condo in New York. It was time to come home.
◆◆◆
After the funeral, I left my mom in the capable hands of my aunt and uncle, then caught an early morning flight back to New York on my own. When I arrived at my apartment, I opened the door and saw a slip of paper on the floor, as well as a key. I read Anna’s note and felt a pang of regret that things had ended up the way that they had.
But it was what it was. And I was moving back to California. I breathed deeply, shrugged the feeling off, and looked around for things to do, now that I was back.
I walked past the area rug with the large coffee stain. It was well beyond saving by this point, so I moved the furniture and rolled the rug up, then placed it by the door. I’d put it on the curb the next morning.
Then I went into the bedroom and stood there, looking down at the mussed sheets, the bed not in its usual made state. I sank down onto the bed, then slowly burrowed into and hugged the pillows. The pillowcase still smelled faintly of rose shampoo, and I breathed deep, filling my lungs yet somehow not feeling like it was enough. How long would it be before the scent of her faded? Or before the pain in my chest subsided?
I rolled the sheets and pillowcases up and threw them into the washer.
With not much else to do, and not feeling like working, it was probably a good time to talk to Anna. The clock read 7:21 PM. I could call her or invite her out to ice cream or something. Maybe she hadn’t had dinner yet.
Instead, I sighed, then took out my phone and texted her. Talk tomorrow, if you’re free for lunch? I wasn’t ready, not yet.
Her immediate response: Yes, please.
Another sigh escaped my lips. I tapped my phone against my hand, pacing back and forth, restless.
So I texted Lina. Sunday night primetime climb time?
Her immediate response: Let’s do it.
I put on my shoes and headed to the gym.
◆◆◆
“Hey Ian. I’m so sorry about your dad.” Lina appeared behind me and patted my arm, then tossed her shoes onto the ground. Her face was sympathetic, but not exaggeratedly so, not one of the over-the-top anguished looks that people had been giving me all week. And I was glad that she hadn’t asked me about any details of his passing or about how I was doing. Everyone wanted to know how I was holding up, wanted to offer their condolences or ask me about all of these intimate details that they had no right to know. I was tired of talking about it.
As she pulled on her harness and tightened the straps across her hips, I remembered that her husband had passed away not that long ago. Maybe she understood.
“Thanks. Did you warm up yet?” I asked. We each had our own warmup routines. Well, she actually warmed up with cardio and stretching. I just bouldered on lower grades.
“Yeah, I did. Did you?” she asked, clipping on her chalk bag.
“Yeah. Did you want to get onto that route I did a few weeks ago? The 11c? You mentioned wanting to do it last time.” When Anna was here with us.
“Sure.” Harness on, she sat down and began pulling on her shoes, eyeing me curiously. “Don’t you usually work on Sunday nights?”
I pulled on my own harness and smiled grimly. “I didn’t realize you kept track.”
“Oh, I notice these things. You’re my climbing partner. I have to.” She stood up, grabbed the rope, and tied into the route. “The last time you were here on a Sunday night was after your fight with Anna, and that was two weeks ago, when I last saw you. What’s going on with you guys this time?”
I snorted. “You know, for someone who doesn’t really talk about her own life, you sure know a lot about mine just from my climbing schedule.” I clipped the belay device to my harness and clicked the carabiner twice to check that it was locked. “Climb on.”
She did a quick safety check of my harness and carabiner, and I did the same for her knots. For such an experienced climber, she’d always been really anal about the safety checks, and I’d never known why until recently. No wonder.
With a quick nod of approval, she got onto the route and began to climb, rocking over onto a high left foot, getting just enough height for her fingertips to hook onto a tiny crimp. “So did you take my advice? Did you guys work things out?”
I shook my head, even though she was concentrating on the wall and not looking my way. “No. If anything, we’re probably going to break up tomorrow.” I wasn’t sure why I’d said probably. More like definitely.
“Why?” she asked through gritted teeth, belying the effortless way she moved between the shallow holds. I’d thought this route was crimpossible (Lina’s word—she liked puns and wordplay) when I’d tried it, but she was making it look easy.
“It’s just not going to work out. We want...different things in life.” I sighed. That seemed like the easiest explanation.
“Ok. Still, it seemed like you guys were good together. And she would’ve made a great climber, too. I liked her.”
I sighed. “I know. I liked her, too. But I’m also moving to California, so—”
&nb
sp; Lina’s foot slipped and my hips jerked as I counterbalanced her fall. “Shit. Seriously?” She looked down and shook her arms out at me. “You’re moving? Why?”
“To be closer to family. My mom is alone now. Our family is in California.”
“Ah...I see.” Lina nodded, no judgment or questions in her eyes. “I get it. I’m lucky, my family is in Philadelphia.”
I leaned back in the harness to get a better look at Lina. She was smart, beautiful, a great climbing partner...and she loved her family. We enjoyed each other’s company, and whenever I had trouble with Anna, I found myself hanging out with Lina. Maybe she liked puns a little too much and made up weird words, but I could get used to it. Why couldn’t we have gotten together?
But even as I had the thought, I saw the answer on Lina’s subdued face. She didn’t have Anna’s liveliness. That spark, that flame to my moth. She was too similar to me, maybe, too somber. We probably would have bored each other to death.
And perhaps most importantly, she wasn’t interested. Lina and I had been climbing together for months, yet she hadn’t really spoken to me about anything other than climbing until I started dating Anna. She was clearly rooting for us.
“Long-distance is doable, you know. I did it with my husband half the time while we were dating and he was driving around chasing crags. You should try it before you just give up on her.” She stretched her hands and rolled her wrists.
“That won’t change the fact that we want different things.”
“Why don’t you invite her here tonight to talk it out? I’m sure she’d be reasonable,” she called down, her voice too pleasant.
I frowned. “Are you just trying to get me to stay with her so you can groom her into your new climbing buddy?”
She snickered. “Ah, Ian, I knew you were smart. Guilty as charged. But also, really. She’s great! I’m sure you could work it out, no matter what it is. And for real about the long-distance. We live in this amazing age. I know you’re in tech, so maybe you’ve heard of it...there’s this really cool invention called a phone…”
I rolled my eyes.
“...and maybe you’ve only ever used it to text and watch porn, but there’s this really sweet feature…”
“Lina.”
“...called calling and you can literally talk to someone, whenever you want, in like two seconds. And planes—okay, I won’t belabor the point. Heh, get it? Belay-bore? But yeah, long-distance really isn’t that bad.”
I snorted. “Lina, you are...weirder than I thought. I’m gonna miss you.”
“I know. I’ll miss you, too. Let’s keep in touch, for real. It’s not hard these days. And hit me up if you’re ever back in the city.” She got back onto the route, gracefully flagging out and easily climbing through a section that I’d burled through (with poor form) only a few weeks ago.
“I will.” I meant it, too.
Chapter 21
-Anna-
I got into work 30 minutes early that day, and even then, he was already there, hard at work.
I dropped my stuff onto my seat and walked over to his desk. He briefly glanced up from his computer, then went back to typing. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I expected him to get up and hug me, but he didn’t. Just sat there and kept typing.
“Do you need something?” he asked without looking up, face expressionless.
“I…” I glanced around and noticed that a couple of other people were already in the office, including Tom, who was watching us keenly from the water cooler. “No. I’ll talk to you later.” I turned on my heel and walked back to my desk. I could see how our conversation today was going to go, and my breakfast threatened to resurface.
I sat down and compiled a mental breakup checklist.
Change desktop background image
Delete photos and text messages from phone
Never go climbing again
As lunch drew closer, my queasiness only grew, and my eyes periodically misted for no apparent reason.
He didn’t look up from his computer again, except when coworkers came up to him and gave their condolences, or asked him something about his projects. His responses to them were as terse and unfeeling as they had been to me, and I saw more than one frown or confused look thrown his way.
At exactly noon, he got up from his desk and came over to mine. “Ready to chat?” He sounded as if we were colleagues going on a walk to discuss a work dispute—tense, yet blandly cheerful.
“Yeah, can I use the restroom first?”
“Sure, I’ll wait.”
I walked to the ladies room and checked my makeup. My eyeliner was smudged in the corner, the usually-sharp wings smeared and sagging. I suspected that it was going to look far worse by the end of the day, but I cleaned it up anyway, washed my hands, squared my shoulders, and went out to meet him.
He was waiting for me out in the hallway, reading an article on his phone. He looked up as I approached and fell into step beside me as we walked towards the elevators. I let my hand hang by my side, close to his, hating myself for how hopeful and desperate I felt...but he didn’t take it, just kept holding his phone.
Instead of going out, we went to the dining hall on the second floor. I think it was a good call on his part, as we weren’t likely to kill or fuck each other with our coworkers looking on. We each grabbed a tray and waited in line for different things. I got the Cobb salad, he got the noodles. We met at a table in the middle, then picked at our food in silence.
Finally, he said, “Anna, I want to apologize for all of the things that I said the last time I saw you. I didn’t mean any of it. It was just my temper talking.”
He’d dropped the cool coworker act, and his voice was low and filled with regret. I knew that he hadn’t meant the things that he’d said, but it still cheered me up to hear him apologize. But the pressure in my chest was only marginally relieved. “It’s...okay. I said some terrible things, too. I didn’t mean it. Any of it.” I poked at my salad. No appetite.
“You were right about some of it, though. I won’t deny that...I’ve lived my life according to a plan, one that my parents were proud of. But that’s what I wanted. And honestly, it’s pretty clear to me that that’s not what you want, so...I think we should call it quits.”
I blinked, utterly dumbfounded. We weren’t going to talk things through? Not even a little? We were...over that quickly? How could he just end things between us so horribly, with so few words?
My brain latched onto the only rational explanation. “Yeah. I guess so. You can definitely do better than a wreck like me.”
He shook his head. “That’s not—”
“It’s fine. I think you deserve someone more…more...” I struggled to find the word. Gave up. “Like you.” I blinked even harder.
He hesitated, then reached across the table and took my hand. “I know you won’t believe it, but you’re not a wreck. I’m lucky to have had a chance with a wonderful, fierce woman like you. You’re gonna make someone really happy, someday.”
My heart clenched at the genuine look on his face, and my eyes watered once more.
He drew his hand back down to his lap. “Besides, I’m moving to San Francisco.”
“What?” I gawked at him. The shock of his news stemmed the tide of tears that were threatening.
“I’m transferring to the SF office and moving over there. I want to be closer to my family.”
“But...when?” My fingernails dug into my palms—this was really happening.
“As soon as the transfer goes through, and as soon as I can put the condo up for sale.”
“You owned the condo?” Fuck, how much did tech leads make?
He smiled grimly. “What did you expect? I’m the Chinese-American dream.”
“Ian.” I wanted to reach out to take his hand again, but it wasn’t on the table. “I’m so sorry about everything. Really.” I rubbed my eyes, not caring if I looked like a panda.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. We�
��re both adults. People make decisions and move on. And they get old and die.” He went back to eating his noodles. “That’s life.”
“I guess,” I whispered, sniffling and wiping away two stray tears. I didn’t even try to pretend to eat my food anymore, just shoved it away from me and delicately dabbed a napkin to my eyes.
After a moment, he pushed his plate away too. “Are you done?” he quietly asked.
I nodded, sniffed, and stood up to go. He rose and walked with me towards the elevator.
“Anna, I...I really appreciate the time that I had with you. It was...thrilling.” His voice cracked before he cleared his throat and added, “I hope you’ll find the right person for you. And that we’ll remain friends.”
He’d put on his bland colleague voice again. I was no better to him than Tom, Rich, or Emily. The elevator doors opened and he placed his hand on my back and walked me in.
But when the doors closed with just the two of us in the elevator, he turned to me and surprised me with a hug. He pressed my face into his chest and I couldn’t help but inhale his familiar scent. I wrapped my arms around his waist and he held me close, blanketing me with his warmth, cradling my head in his hands, his fingers in my hair. He took a deep breath. Then, as the elevator slowed to a halt, he let me go.
I turned to catch his arm. “Ian—”
He firmly pulled away and walked out without a word, not meeting my eyes.
I stared after him as my coworkers got onto the elevator. They stepped in and turned their backs to me, facing the front, their eyes carefully averted. The door closed.
The waterworks were on full blast by the time the doors next opened.
Where was the anger? The hatred? The pride or sense of self-preservation? The only thing in my chest was emptiness, like a core part of me had just suddenly disappeared, collapsed in on itself. Where Ian’s steadfast support and tender compassion once existed, there was just a huge, gaping vacuum, a black hole eating me up inside.
It was clear that he’d already checked out of the relationship, had moved on without me. And he was literally moving away, to San Francisco, without me.