Ghosts of Manhattan: A Novel(75)

“I’ve talked to Julia many times but never slept with her. It wasn’t like that.”

It wasn’t like that because she wouldn’t consent to it. He’s sort of guilty, so I don’t feel as bad about hitting him. What I’ve done to Julia is far worse.

I walk to the door and open it. I can hear him rustling to his feet. I step into the hall and Oliver steps to the doorframe behind me. He has found new courage now that he knows I’m leaving and won’t strangle him.

“She was unhappy, Nick!”

I turn around. Oliver is outside his office door and takes a half step back in. One hand is still holding the side of his face, streaked with tears. He takes a quick glance around to be sure there are enough people immediately nearby that he’s safe. There are about a dozen gawkers, but I’m leaving anyway. I turn back around for the elevator.

“Unhappy, Nick! You hear me?”





26 | AFTER ROCK BOTTOM


February 2, 2006

I TAKE THE ELEVATOR DOWN, AND OUTSIDE THE OFFICE there’s an open taxi at the corner as though it knew I’d be coming. I burst into the back seat and out of the cold and give the cabbie my address. It’s nine fifteen in the morning.

What I’ve done is a betrayal of faith, and I did it publicly. Instead of going to Julia, I condemned her and looked for retribution. I need to get to her quickly to tell her what happened, to let her know it was my insecurity that blinded me. If she hears about what happened with Oliver from anyone else, it will be much worse. I picture entering the apartment, interrupting her from something, and holding her hand while I confess.

When I open the apartment door, I find her sitting at the breakfast table with her coffee just a half room away, surprised to see me. I felt prepared and ready only moments ago. Now I’m like a sprinting dog yanked to a stop by the limits of his tether. I stare at her while still standing in the open doorway.

“Nick, what are you doing home?”

It feels absurd to say, I just punched out the guy I thought you were sleeping with, so I came home early, but it’s the truth. “I had an incident today. With Oliver.” I pause. “I heard some things. Some rumors. And I made some assumptions. Some very bad, very wrong assumptions.”

“Oh, God, Nick. What did you do?”

“I confronted Oliver. I’m sorry. I thought you were sleeping with him.”

“Nick.” She puts the coffee down and brings her hand up to her face.

“I hit him. He was sleeping with someone other than Sybil, but obviously it wasn’t you. I should have known that. I should have just known that, but I thought maybe you were.”

I’m expecting anger but there is none. She’s just slowly shaking her head and not looking at me.

“I’m sorry, Julia. I’m so sorry. And I’m sorry it was so public. I should have come here first.”

“Oh, Nick.” Her voice is resigned, which is much worse than angry. “I wish you knew I’d never do that. You used to know that.”

We’re silent and unmoving. I’m standing and looking at her; she’s sitting and looking away. My arms hang at my sides feeling useless and needing instruction.

“When did everything change?” she asks, as though she is trying to work out the answer herself.

She’s right to ask. But it’s hard to pinpoint. Our connection has faded, so slowly we didn’t notice it happening until we started feeling unhappy and asked why. My job is the easy scapegoat. I’m away a lot, distracted when I’m here. We don’t know each other anymore. She asked an important question and I’m working it out, but because of my silence she treats it as rhetorical and goes on.

“At least you still care enough to be angry that I might have slept with someone else. We’ve still got a pulse. I guess that’s something. Or was it just your bruised ego?”

There’s not much I can say.

She brings her hands to her lap and shakes her head one firm time. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be your wife anymore, Nick.”

“Julia, wait a minute.”

“It’s not about what you did today. That’s just an example of what’s so wrong. You don’t know me, we don’t talk. Our relationship is broken.”

It’s broken but I know we can fix it because I know what’s changing in me. I want to tell her that I’ve found myself again and that I’m right here with her. I hope it’s not too late.

I’m coming up with my plan and she says, “We should have made this decision a while ago. We could have saved ourselves some pain.”

“There’re a lot of things I should have done a while ago,” I say. “I’m going to do them now.” It’s all clear. I know I can never work another day at Bear Stearns. Keeping Julia, getting her back, is the only thing that matters.

She’s only half listening.

I stand. “Julia, we’re broken, but not beyond repair.” I squeeze her hand.

“Nick, I want you to get out. You need to leave this apartment, or I’ll leave, I don’t care which, but I can’t be with you.”

I want to ask if she means forever or just for right now. Even if she means just for now, once I’m gone, she’ll probably feel such relief that she’ll realize she means forever, so it’s better not to ask and make her face the question yet. I want forgiveness and to make amends, but she doesn’t want me in the same room. I know enough about Julia and any woman that being pushy now will blow things up.