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'M' is For: [Ch18] New York's Broken Hearted Lovers - Part 1
🕑 Added 2025-05-20 11:00:04 +0000 UTCA week went by and soon it was time to pack up my stuff and say goodbye at work. I had a short, somewhat stiff exit interview with my manager, Jeb, in which he couldn’t quite think of anything to say besides, “Well, thanks for all your work.” I sensed that he was a little resentful that I was leaving, but I couldn’t care less. My co-workers had a goodbye lunch for me at a nearby restaurant, and we had a good time, swapping war stories from the marketing department and making fun of the company’s new rebranding initiative. Still, looking around the table, it struck me how the person I’d connected with the most at my workplace wasn’t there.
My new job, which I started the following Monday, was in a trendy spot in the Lower West Side just a few minutes from the water. The office space was a lot smaller, but I liked that. It felt cozier and more intimate. The first week was a blur of new faces and adjustments, but everyone was friendly and eager to help get me situated. Even my desk space was significantly nicer. Before, I had been right off one of the main throughways for our open office. Now, I sat along one of the large office windows with a dazzling view of the city. Already I was seeing the possibilities expand before my eyes. Cleaning out my drawers at my old job, I’d come across the plastic Spider-Man toy Thomas had given me for my birthday. Despite the bittersweet memories attached, I didn’t have the heart to throw it away, and so I sat it next to my computer. It was comforting to have the little guy greet me each day at work.
I can do this, I thought, with a growing sense of excitement. This is what I’ve always wanted and I will make this work.
In the months that followed, I became busier than ever. It was a good kind of busy, the kind that left me feeling just the right amount of tired but satisfied at the end of the day. On weekends, I still found time to hang out with the old gang. At first, I only saw Kiara and Danielle when they had time to spare from whatever social commitments they’d made with Missy. However, as the weeks passed, Kiara and Danielle—and sometimes even James—joined me and Sharon for the odd party. I didn’t ask any questions, and it wasn’t until later that Kiara admitted that they had all cut ties with Missy in one way or another.
I was getting more invitations to parties around the city than ever before. I owed a good part of that to Sharon and Edward, who introduced me to their friends. I couldn’t help reflecting that now that I was fully liberated from Missy’s shadow, it was so much easier to get to know people on my own terms. I wouldn’t have normally pegged myself as an extrovert, but I felt newly emboldened to put myself out there and see what happened. And if I ever found myself in danger of missing the extravagant ceremony of Missy’s events, or the two beautiful, entangled lovers around whom those events had revolved, my new social circles were all too eager to help distract me.
❖❖❖
As the weather warmed, for nearly the first time ever, my sister Jenny came down to visit me. It was the perfect excuse for me to take a couple days off and spend the weekend seeing all the New York tourist attractions that no self-respecting New Yorker would go to on their own. We took a boat to the Statue of Liberty, rode to the top of One World Trade Center, and scored some cookies at Levain that we ate along the waterfront.
Saturday night, we found ourselves winding down the evening in a trendy bar further uptown. I had never gone before myself, but one of my new coworkers had recommended it. Jenny and I were busy dissecting Dad’s latest idea to run a marathon when a young man came up to us.
“Hey,” the man said, smiling down at us. He had a pleasant smile but a completely forgettable face that put me in mind of the kind of boy toys Missy used to go for. “Do you have any plans for later tonight?”
“Yeah, sorry,” I said with a smile, and the man gave a mock groan of disappointment. I watched him as he headed back to rejoin his table of friends, who slapped him on the back and made some remark that had them all laughing.
“Wow, is that normal?” Jenny wanted to know. “That’s so…bold.”
“It happens,” I shrugged. “Two pretty women out at a bar together on a Saturday night…it’s like catnip for the men.”
“You really are in your element here,” Jenny said ruefully. “I’ll have to tell Mom and Dad there’s no chance of you moving back, is there?”
“Nope,” I said emphatically, taking a sip of my dry martini. “Not at all. I love it here.” I didn’t mention that it hadn’t always been like this. I suppose that was one thing I had to thank Missy and her book club for.
Speaking of…as I looked around for our waiter, I noticed a familiar blonde woman sitting alone at the bar. She was wearing a tight black dress, and with her long, lean thighs, she was attracting more than her fair share of sideways glances. I watched as a man got up to speak to her. After a few minutes, his friend went to join him.
The woman turned to speak to his friend, laughing, and the new angle confirmed my suspicion: I was looking at Missy. But this was a Missy transformed from the woman I had first met. Her face was pale beneath her makeup, and her eyes were much too bright. Her eyeliner, normally applied immaculately, had started to smudge around the eyes. And she looked like she had lost quite a bit of weight since I’d last seen her.
“What is it?” Jenny asked, seeing my face. She turned her head, trying to follow my gaze. “Do you know that woman?”
“Yeah, I do.” My hands clenched into fists. A couple months ago, I couldn’t wait to get as far away from Missy as possible. But now, I felt something like guilt seize in my chest. “Do you mind if I head over? Just, fair warning, this could get a little messy…”
“Do what you need to do,” Jenny said, and I could have hugged her for that.
I slid from the table booth and went up to join Missy and her new companions.
“Hey, Missy,” I said, keeping my voice warm and friendly. “Fancy running into you here!”
Missy glanced at me and gave a high, false laugh. “God, if it isn’t Mal. Sweet, sweet Mal. Why am I not surprised?” She took a generous drink of her whiskey.
Glancing down at it, then at her, I got the uncomfortable feeling that she had been here for a while, drinking a little too much.
“Are you here with anyone?”
Missy gave a snort and then a hiccup. “Little old me? Worried for me, are you?” She turned to face me, and I bit my lips, seeing how flushed her cheeks were. At all the parties we’d gone to together, I’d never seen her look as drunk as she did now. She’d always kept herself right on the edge of tipsiness; the sexual power she’d exerted had been enough.
This is not your problem, some part of my head was chiding me. Walk away and leave it alone. But my feet refused to listen to me. I stood there, looking down at her, trying to summon some of my old anger and self-righteousness, but it had dried up when I wasn’t paying attention. Now I only felt deep pity.
“Let me take you back,” I said quietly. “You don’t look too good.”
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine.” Missy started to raise her glass to her lips, but I intercepted it and firmly plucked it from her grasp. Missy gave a gasp of indignation.
“Will you please excuse us,” I said to the two men, “We’re going now.” Taking Missy by the arm, I all but dragged her out of her seat and marched her to where Jenny and I had been sitting.
“Who are you?” Missy demanded when she saw Jenny, and I winced at her tone.
“I’m Jenny. Mallory’s sister,” Jenny said. I saw her hesitate, struggling to figure out what niceties the situation called for.
“Oh?” Missy stared at her shrewdly. “I guess I can see the resemblance. A little. Did you know your sister’s a real backstabbing little bitch?”
“Come on, Missy,” I said. “Can you not use that language around my little sister?” I reached for my bag. “I’m so sorry,” I told Jenny, “but I’m going to go take her back. Her place is a short ride away. Would it be alright if you came with us and just waited downstairs?”
Jenny gave me a crooked little smile. “Of course. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll call you a bitch if I want, bitch,” Missy was saying loudly. Other patrons were starting to turn their heads to stare at us. “I’ve got a few other choice words for you, too…want to hear them?”
I felt my face burn in a mix of anger and embarrassment at how Missy insisted on being the worst possible version of herself. I entertained the thought of leaving her there, but even despite Missy’s meanness, there was something desperate about her act. Like her meanness was all that was holding her together. The thought scared me more than I wanted to admit.
It took a few minutes to close out Missy’s tab, during which Missy rambled drunkenly to Jenny about what losers the men in New York City all were. It didn’t help that Missy seemed to have misplaced her wallet and the bar didn’t take Apple Pay. I ended up paying for the bill just to get us out of there, but the total had me wincing as I handed over my card. Missy had been busy at the bar, and her tastes did not run cheap.
I called a cab to take us to Missy’s apartment. Missy complained loudly to anyone who’d listen that I was kidnapping her, but she didn’t resist as I helped her inside. Her steps were unsteady, and she had to grab onto the side of the door for balance. I took the middle seat and let Jenny have the window opposite Missy.
“Hey, she’s not going to throw up in here, is she?” the cab driver wanted to know.
“No, she’ll be fine,” I said, hoping fervently that it was true. “We don’t have that far to go.” After a long moment during which the cab driver stared at Missy while I held my breath, he begrudgingly started the car forward.
