“If this is true, I really don’t even know what to say. You should have told Nina you were married and you certainly shouldn’t have slept with her.”
I wasn’t going to waste time explaining my actions to him when the only person that deserved an explanation was Nina.
“Where is she, Ryan?”
“She’s crashing with Mrs. Ballsworthy’s daughter. She came by right after Nina found out about you. Daria had stopped in to give her a thank you basket and saw her crying. I pulled her aside and told her what happened. She insisted Nina come stay with her for at least a few days. She lives in Park Slope.”
“What’s the address?”
“I promised her I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Ryan, I like you. I do. So, I’m gonna be up front and tell you that I’m going to beat the snot out of you if you don’t tell me, and I really don’t want to have do that.”
He huffed and pulled out his phone, texting me the address.
“Thank you,” I said as I ran out the door.
***
I took a deep breath and tried to gather my thoughts before entering the brownstone. The front door was open, but you had to get buzzed in to enter the second door. I pressed the button for Unit Six.
A woman’s voice blasted through static. “Hello?”
“Hi, this is Jake. I know Nina is staying with you and doesn’t want to see me, but please, I need to talk to her. Can I come up?”
Silence.
It felt like it went on for an eternity. Then, came more static. “I’m sorry, Jake. She doesn’t want to see you. Please leave.”
I pressed the buzzer again but no response. This went on for about fifteen minutes with no luck. They were just ignoring me.
I went back outside and walked around to the back of the building to see if there were any windows. A fire escape led up to the sixth floor. If I could get up there and knock on a window, maybe they would see how serious I was and let me in. Shit, I would camp out here all night if I had to.
I began to crawl up the fire escape, unsure of whether the apartment at the top was even the right one. When I got to the sixth level, I looked in the window at a dark, empty room. Just as I was about to knock on the window and beg whoever lived there to let me in, a light came on.
The sight of her nearly knocked the wind out of me. Nina closed the door and sat down on the bed. She didn’t see me. Her beautiful long hair covered her face as she cried into her hands, her shoulders shaking up and down. Then, she looked up at the ceiling and muttered something to herself. I felt like I was about to suffocate as I watched her suffering because of me. I hated myself for causing the person I loved more than anything so much pain. It was tearing me apart. I didn’t want to scare her, but I needed to do something.
Her body jolted when I knocked on the glass. Her hand over her heart, she turned and noticed me staring through the window.
“Nina…let me in.”
She sat there just looking at me, her chest rising up and down.
“Let me in,” I repeated. “I’m not going away. You have to let me explain.”
She stayed frozen, her beautiful eyes, dark again for the first time since I met her.
“Please…I love you,” I said.
It pained me to think that she probably thought I was a horrible person who was using her.
I decided to attempt to carefully break through the window, but low and behold, it opened right up. I crawled through and closed it behind me.
It sickened me when she backed away and leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the room. I didn’t want to upset her, so I kept my distance.
“Nina…it’s not what you think.”
A tear fell from her cheek.
I decided to get right to it. This story needed to be told from the beginning, and I only had one chance to do it right. I sat down on the bed and took a deep breath, looking away from her sad face.
“I was eighteen when I met Ivy. She was like no one I had ever encountered before…so full of life and vibrant. The first time I saw her, she was dancing in the middle of a torrential rainstorm. I walked up to her and made small talk. We made plans for later that night. She was a guitarist, played some small gigs and I went to see her perform in a coffee house. I just thought she was really cool. I guess it was infatuation. We became inseparable and started dating. About six months later, we got a little drunk one night, and she decided that it would be a brilliant idea to hop the next flight to Vegas and get married. What did I know? I was an impulsive teenager with a hot girlfriend and figured it would make a really cool story someday to say I got married by Elvis. I thought I knew what love was then. I thought I loved her enough to spend the rest of my life with her.”