The Thorne in My Side

Chapter 2 - Maya

June 20th - 6pm

As Sandro and I settle into the car, a suffocating silence descends. I try to break the ice with small talk, "How was your day, Hunnie? Anything interesting happen at work today?

“Nothing much, just the same old, same old.”

"Okay," I say, a little bit pissed that he won't offer me more than a few words or even look at me. I get that he may be conflicted and doesn't want to give his position away but this is starting to freak me out.

"I researched the restaurant you reserved. Wow, babe, you really outdid yourself. It's so beautiful and their reviews are excellent. How did you hear about it?” but that and all of my subsequent questions are met with one-worded mundane responses.

The tension in the car grows thicker with each passing minute. Sandro seems miles away, his mind preoccupied with something far beyond our date. Finally, I can't take it anymore.

"Sandro, mi vida," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, "What's going on, is everything okay? You seem… distant."

He glances at me briefly, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. "It's just work," he mutters, turning up the volume on the car radio.

By the time the car pulls up to the fancy-looking restaurant, “Per Se.", renowned for its exquisite French-American cuisine and impeccable service, located in the heart of Manhattan's Columbus Circle, the nerves that have been fluttering in my stomach have morphed into a knot of worry.

Sandro, however, seems to snap out of his funk. He opens the car door for me with a flourish, “My Lady." causing me to smile and almost forget the sourness of the almost 30-minute drive that led here.

He pulls out my chair with a gentlemanly air and even manages a charming smile for the restaurant staff. As we settle into our conveniently located booth, Sandrofinally speaks, his longest sentence in forever, a hint of remorse in his voice. "Maya, I'm so sorry for acting so strange earlier. Truth is work has just been a nightmare lately, and I guess I let it get the better of me."

I squeeze his hand, offering a small smile. "It's okay, Sandro. Everyone gets stressed sometimes." A part of me still yearns to know what is truly bothering him, but for now, I decide to let it go. We're here, on our "special date," and I'm determined to enjoy it, whatever the outcome.

We scan the menu, the tension slowly dissipating as we bicker playfully over who will get the last bite of the cream meringue pie if we so happen to order it.

The air in the restaurant crackles with a nervous energy that has little to do with the spiciness of the veal we're enjoying. Sandrokeeps fidgeting in his chair, stealing glances at me across the flickering flame.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, a slow smile spreads across his face, and he reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a small velvet box, its black surface catching the faint glow of the candlelight. My heart hammers in my chest. This is it. Tonight is the night. Marian was right after all.

"Maya," Sandro begins, his voice soft but laced with a thrill, "you're an incredible woman and I'm fortunate to have grown with you and to still be in your life till now. The truth is there's no one else I'd rather share this journey with."

My breath catches in my throat. Tears well up in my eyes. "Oh, Sandro," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. "Oh my God. Yes! Yes, a thousand times, yes."

Sandro blinks, momentarily disarmed by my eagerness. He clears his throat and stares at me drawing a blank. I can tell that I have put him on the spot and he's now feeling self-conscious of the people sitting around us who have now left their meals and are now looking at us.

My smile falters, replaced by a flicker of confusion. He opens the box, revealing a delicate silver necklace adorned with a sparkling ruby. My favorite stone. How thoughtful but that doesn't stop disappointment from washing over me.

I force myself to smile, "Wow, it's a necklace," I say, my voice shaky with false enthusiasm. "It's beautiful."

"It is, isn't it? Sandro agrees, a touch of relief ringing in his voice. "I'm sorry babe, isn't this what you were expecting?"

I swallow the lump in my throat. "No, it's nothing," I mumble, staring down at the tablecloth. “This is beautiful, thank you."

Sandro reaches across the table, taking my hand gently. "Maya, you're the most important person in my life. And I love you very much. You know that, right?"

"I thought so," I murmur, nodding furiously at him like a screw just got loose in my head. God. How could I be so stupid, how could I let myself think so far?

"Look," he continues, squeezing my hand. There's something else I have to tell you. I just got this incredible promotion. The partners called me in and I've been nominated to head the field office in Germany!”

Genuine surprise flickers in my eyes. "Wow," I breathe. Then, a frown creases on my forehead. "And what did you tell them?"

“What do you mean, what did I say? I accepted, of course," Sandro beams.

The smile vanishes from my face. "Wow, you said yes before you even had a chance to discuss this with me? Does my opinion mean nothing at all to you?"

Sandro's smile falters. "Don't be like that, babe. This is my future."

"So what are you telling me?" My voice sharpens.

Sandrohesitates. "Honestly, I haven't figured it all out yet."

"How can you not know?" A flicker of anger sparks in my eyes. "It's either you want me to come with you or you don't."

Sandro looks down at our intertwined fingers. "The truth is," he admits, his voice low, "that at first, I thought I'd go alone. Settle in, get used to the place, and then send for you."

I pause for a while, considering what he just said: "How long will you be gone?" I finally ask, my voice dull.

"Six months, at least, before I can even start making any arrangements," Sandro replies, his voice heavy.

"And what happens to us in the meantime?"

Sandro stares at me, his eyes filled with a helplessness that mirrors my own. "I don't know," he admits quietly. "But I wouldn't blame you..."

"So what do you expect me to do?" I can feel the anger and hurt crackling in my voice. "Just wait here twiddling my thumbs as I await your royal summons? Put my life on hold for an indefinite amount of time, all in the hope that maybe, just maybe, you'll decide you miss me enough to send for me?"

Sandro's face flushes a deep crimson. "No, Maya, that's not what I mean at all. Listen to me," he pleads, his voice laced with desperation. "This promotion… it's everything I've ever worked for. A chance to prove myself and I'll be making twice what I'm already making now. I can't let it pass me by."

"But what about us?" I counter, my voice rising a notch. "Seven years, Sandro. And suddenly, your dream takes precedence over everything else, even me? I moved out here because of you and you're just going to leave me at your earliest convenience?

“Don't put this on me, Maya. New York was as much your dream as it was mine.”

" I would have stayed in Washington, no problem but I wanted to be here to support you and now you're just going to leave, just like that? No creo esa mierda.”

Sandro runs a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration I know all too well. "It's not that I don't care about you, Maya. You know that. You're the most important person in my life. But this… this is about my future, about taking the next step in my career."

"And what about my future, Sandro?" I challenge, feeling tears welling up in my eyes.

Sandro's jaw clenches. "The truth is," he confesses, his voice dropping to a low murmur, "I hadn't really thought that far ahead. I guess… I naively assumed you'd be happy for me. This is a dream come true, Maya. And we shouldn't be holding each other back, right?"

A bitter laugh escapes my lips. "Right," I echo, the word devoid of any conviction. "Because true love means letting go, right? Just packing up and moving on without a second thought for the person you supposedly care about."

"That's not what I'm saying," Sandrointerjects, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. "I would ask you to come with me, but I know you wouldn't be happy in Frankfurt. You have your friends, your family… your life here. I wouldn't want you to wake up one day resenting me for taking you away from everything you know."

I stare at him, a cold realization settling in my stomach. He has thought about this avidly. Sandrois talking about us, about our future, in the past tense. He's already building a life for himself, a life that doesn't necessarily include me.

"We have a good thing, Sandro," I say, surprised at how steady my voice sounds despite the tremor in my heart. "Seven years… that's not nothing."

"Exactly," Sandrosays, his voice regaining some of its former confidence. "We had a good thing. But sometimes, people… they grow in different directions. Their paths diverge. Maybe this is just one of those times."

The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air. They're wrapped in a cloak of logic, of practicality, but they can't mask the gaping hole they've ripped open in my heart. As much as it pains me to admit it, Sandrois right. Maybe it's time that this beautiful, comfortable chapter of our lives comes to a bittersweet end.

***********************************************************

The city lights twinkle outside my window, but they offer little comfort as I recount the evening's events to my best friend, almost drowning in tears

“I don't know what to do. I love him so much. How could he just end things just like that?"

Celia stands up, a determined glint in her eyes. "That's it," she declares, grabbing her purse. "We're getting you out of this funk. Wipe those tears and let's hit the town. We're going dancing!"

I stare at my friend, a hesitant smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “I don't know about this, Pam. I need to mourn the loss of a future I've imagined since I was 16."

“Trust me, Maya. The only way you'll be able to sleep tonight is if you have enough alcohol in your system. You need this, Hunnie."