NORA
It’s been years since I’ve cried so hard and so long, and since I’ve felt this deep sense that nothing in my life is under my control. No matter how much I want to believe that my hard work and willingness to put myself out there will get me where I want to go, culinary school and Alex have taught me differently.
I’m struck by just how similar getting expelled and broken up with feels. Both were very personal rejections, and both felt completely unexpected and unjustified.
I called out from work for the weekend, which earned me an indirect reprimand from my supervisor in the form of passive-aggressive comments about reliable employees and drama-free workplaces. But I was all out of give-a-cares and didn’t feel guilty in the slightest, taking the time off to sleep, eat cookie dough, and call my mom. If nothing else, I can be genuinely grateful that we’ve reconciled and that I have someone to talk to.
I replay my exchange with Alex in my mind in an unceasing loop. The overthinking Olympics are in full swing as I analyze every word and try to understand what went wrong. Several times I consider texting Maddy or Annie to see if they can shed some light on Alex’s behavior, but I ultimately decide it won’t do any good. He was very clear that he wanted me to leave, and it’s up to him to make things right.
No matter how I parse it, I am still convinced that I didn’t do anything to warrant the way he snapped at me, which makes me wonder if he’d just been looking for an excuse to end things. Explaining that the text was from his sister wouldn’t have changed anything if that was the case. I think about Alex telling me that he wasn’t a good guy, that I could do better. My brain tells me to accept that I’m better off now.
If only my heart believed it.
The worst part of this breakup is that my hopes and dreams of making From Couch to Potatoes into something big walked out the door hand-in-hand with the relationship. Without Alex, I have no location to film in and no student to teach, which is the core of the show. During the short periods that I’m not reliving the pain of Alex’s rejection, I’m brainstorming ways to keep the show going on my own. The tripods and remote are still at his house, but if I could get them back, maybe I could ask Maddy, Annie, or Kayla to lend me her kitchen until I can find another place to shoot. And maybe I could find someone else to take Alex’s place as student and cohost, like a coworker or a friend from book club. Or maybe I could teach directly to the viewers, as if the student was behind the camera.
I know it wouldn’t be the same, but the audience would adjust, right? Life is full of change. I try not to think about all the comments the videos still get that are focused on how attractive and likable Alex is. If I can get used to him not being in my life, the internet can too.
By Monday, I have pulled myself together enough to ease back into real life. When I check my phone on my break and find a voicemail from Miles Brenner claiming he has good news, I latch onto that promise like a lifeline and call him back immediately.
“Hey Miles, I got your voicemail. What’s up?”
“Nora, I have great news. So I was at this premiere party Friday night…” I can’t help but notice the juxtaposition of our Fridays since I was supposed to be at a party and wasn’t. “And I got to talking with a very interesting woman who turned out to work for a network that focuses on home and family life. Long story short, we hit it off, I told her about your show, and I got the call this morning that her bosses are interested. They want to meet you! Now we just have to get you and Alex out here ASAP to meet with the execs and the director who would be running your show so you can dazzle them and seal the deal!”
Miles’ excitement is palpable, but I feel a sense of dread at his last sentence. I scramble to find the best way to tell him, the best way to approach this issue so that the entire opportunity doesn’t disappear in a puff of smoke.
“I would be happy to come out and start the process. Unfortunately, Alex will be unable to join me.”
“Listen, we do need to jump on this, but we can afford to wait a few days until he’s available.” Miles chuckles. “The dream team wouldn’t be complete without Alex.”
I swallow and press on cautiously. “The thing is, Alex and I have…had a falling out…over a difference of opinion.” That seems neutral and professional. As far as I know, our viewers didn’t know that Alex and I had become romantically involved, and I’d rather keep it that way. There’s no reason to make Miles worry about stepping into relationship drama. If I’m careful, maybe I can play this off casually.
“I see…” Miles pauses for a moment. “The thing is—and I don’t mean any offense—I don’t know if you by yourself will be enough to make them want to move forward. I pitched you as a team and showed them your videos. They like your chemistry and banter together.”
“Okay, I get that. It’s a legitimate concern,” I say calmly. “But what if we took it in just a slightly different direction—very slight—where I teach a new person to cook in each episode instead of only Alex? We could bring in a diverse set of people and keep things fresh that way.”
I can practically hear the gears turning as Miles considers this. When he finally replies, he has the sound of an optimist trying to talk himself into a sketchy idea. “I guess it’s worth a shot. It’s not a bad idea, just not what I presented. It could go either way—they might love it or they might throw us out for misrepresenting the concept. You’re sure Alex won’t be interested in this opportunity?”
Yeah, I’m pretty sure. Three days of radio silence and the memory of his anger on Friday is enough to convince me that he’s not interested in me or anything I might be working on.
“No, he’s not.” I resist the urge to explain further and wait for his response.
“Alright, well, like I said, it’s worth a shot. I’ll set up the meeting for later this week and email you the details. You’ll need to book a flight, and I’ll include suggestions for accommodations.”
I try not to cringe at the vision of dollar bills flying out of my wallet and into oblivion like leaves in a tornado and infuse my voice with positivity. “Thank you, Miles. You won’t regret it.”
After we hang up, I sit in my car and stare at my phone, resolve rising in me. This is actually very simple. All I need to do is fly to L.A. and convince the network that I am what they need. I will prove to them and to myself that I don’t need Alex to be happy or successful. I have to show them that I am enough all on my own.
I am enough. I am enough. I am enough.
But the mantra only hits at a surface level, leaving me with the feeling that this is a case of “fake it ‘till you make it”. How does one tell the difference between confidence and foolhardiness? I have a feeling I’m about to find out soon which one of those qualities I’m operating under.
37
ALEX
It’s been six days since I broke up with Nora. Six long, lonely days of questioning everything about my life and wondering if I’m one of those people who will just always be alone. I’ve been circling back to my idea of getting a pet, a notion I had nearly forgotten in the weeks that Nora and I had been working together. But now? Well, if I’m going to be single forever, I’m going to do it right and become a crazy cat man.
How many cats does one need to achieve crazy cat man status? My gut tells me at least three. I wonder if it would be better to get them all at once or acquire them gradually?