I skip to his side, beaming proudly. The small kitchen to our left, pimped out in faded marble countertops and black, distressed cupboards, has top of the line appliances, including a coffee maker and a pizza oven. A small island overlooks the living area where there’s a giant stone fireplace and a three-piece sectional sofa filled with dozens of white, airy pillows. The marble floors continue on to a large square table and chairs, stopping at a patio door overlooking the backyard.
I nudge his elbow. “You gotta check this out.”
He’s back to his squirrelly self when he springs along with me. We step out to the small balcony overlooking the back side of the other buildings in the neighborhood.
They each have their own little balconies similar to ours with a fire escape stairway running through it, some with plants, bicycles, patio furniture, and grills. Some of the ground-floor yards, each individually fenced off, have little plastic children’s pools. One even has a swing. The place next door to us is like something straight out of a home magazine with a mix of expensive couches that looks like they belong indoors, and large Christmas lights draped overhead.
Simple wooden stairways lead up to the back door of some brownstones, while others are wrought iron with elaborate designs. Buildings of various heights and colored bricks stack together in the background like perfectly placed steps for a giant. It’s an eclectic mix of different shapes and colors.
Our balcony has a cracked stone floor with a wrought iron table and chairs, their floral cushions worn and faded from the sun. It’s all so incredibly charming. I feel as if I’m home, though in reality, I’m thousands of miles from where I grew up.
Adam rests his hands on the railing, grinning as he takes it all in. “Wow. This is awesome.”
My chest warms to hear he’s just as enchanted by the view. I can see us living together in a little place like this, close to the big city, yet in the midst of an intimate neighborhood, hanging out at night with the neighbors in their mismatched furniture beneath the twinkling lights. Adam did well in school before he dropped out, and as long as I work at it, I’m able to get decent grades too. We could each find a day job, and take classes at night. I picture myself cuddled up in his arms on this balcony, reading a book, or planning out our day.
Moments like those would keep me moving, giving me a new sense of purpose. I could forget all the past mistakes I’ve made, and live for a different kind of future. It’d be a clean slate. For both of us.
Realizing how far I’ve let my thoughts wander, I shake my head. They’re too dangerous with all that still remains unknown between us. I need to keep moving.
“I know, right? Wait until you see the rest.”
I don’t wait for him to follow me back into the brownstone and past the kitchen. At the bottom of the narrow oak stairway leading to the next level, there’s a small bedroom with two twin beds. I step inside and flip on the light. “This is your room. I already called dibs on the bedroom upstairs with the jet tub. Yours has a small shower and toilet.”
Adam takes a deep breath, and his eyes morph with guilt. “Jewels—”
I spin around and walk back out the door, shaking my head and waving a hand through the air. “Don’t worry about it. I had time to set up our stuff.”
“Hey!” he calls out behind me. “Would you stop and talk to me for a minute?”
“I figure we can freshen up before we hit some tourist spots. The owner said there’s a little bakery around the corner. You can grab some bagels or whatever while I’m getting ready.” I flash a smile over my shoulder, not really looking at him. “See you in about an hour.”
I’m halfway up the steps when the tears finally break loose.
The city gives off a different kind of heat from back home, sucking both the water and energy from your bones. We make lots of stops to try different foods from the vendors, grab water, even buy matching fedoras. Adam’s filled with an unusual quiet that can only come from a tumultuous, internal battle, so I break the silence with constant chatter, telling him whatever facts I know about the area or stories of my other trips to the city. I avoid touching him at all costs, knowing any handholding or kissing will only complicate things and put us back in the same conundrum as before.
I’m just as charmed by the city as I was on my first and last visit, and find myself falling in love with it even more. The architecture, constant motion, endless restaurants and retail choices fill me with unbridled euphoria, making it easy to forget all about my complicated love life. Having Adam by my side, experiencing the city through my eyes, makes the trip that much more thrilling.