Page 82 of Rome: The Ballerina

“I have dreams, Saint!”

“Which I admired and supported. But, you said, yes, Aliza. You said yes to prioritizing us. Yes to marrying me. Yes to supporting my dreams of a wife and a family. Yes to making plans. Yes to this union. But, it’s only been about Aliza since I put that ring on your finger.”

“Don’t make this about me.”

“I’m not. Not this time, love. And, that’s what’s changed here. I’ve decided to decenter you for once, because as long as you’re the center of every decision I make, happiness is subjective.”

“Sain–”

“Every time I’ve opened my mouth about the wedding, you’ve made it clear it was not in your immediate plans. Every time that happened, a small piece of me chipped away. I don’t have any more pieces, Aliza. My heart isn’t in it anymore. My thoughts are elsewhere. My interest lies elsewhere.”

“Where?” She asked.

Her eyes were glossy. Her eyebrows were crinkled. Her face was contorted.

“Have you cheated?”

I shook my head.

“No. I haven’t. I’m not that guy. We both know that.”

“Then where does your interest l–”

“With who,” I corrected her.

“Wh– who?” She stuttered.

My heart broke as her chest caved. The tears began. I exhaled, hating to see the pain flash across her pretty face. I sat back in my seat, rubbing the corners of my mouth with my index finger and thumb.

“There’s a girl, Aliz–”

Before I finished my sentence, she bolted from her chair. She stormed past me, stomping into the hallway. I closed my eyes, wishing I had the energy to follow behind her. I didn’t. It would only create more chaos. I listened as she climbed the stairs.

I unlocked my phone and prepared my mother’s contact. There would be a call placed. I just wasn’t sure when. I retrieved my utensil and continued my meal. I tried my hardest to place my feelings, but they were in a realm of their own at the moment.

Maybe later. I reasoned, understanding I was still in the thick of things.

Patiently, I waited for the sound of Aliza descending the stairs. It came eight minutes after she’d gone up. She dragged a laundry bag full of her things through the dining room, stopping at the table in front of me.

“I hope it isn’t your money that interests her,” she grimaced, bitterly, while slamming the key to my house and the garage opener on the table.

She struggled to pull the laundry bag in the opposite direction. I stood, reaching for the oversized bag made of thick, stretchable fabric.

“Don’t!” She yelled. “Don’t fucking help me. I don’t need your help, Saint. And, I don’t need you. Fucking asshole!”

Tossing both hands in the air, I retired in my seat. I returned my attention to the food in front of me, digging in for a third time. This time, I didn’t stop until I could see the white around the entire glass dish.

The silence confirmed Aliza’s disappearance. I unlocked my cell again and placed a call to my mother.

“Sac?” She answered on the first ring, concern etched in her tone.

“Good evening, lady,” I said, hoping to calm her nerves.

“Evening, son. What’s up?”

“I need a favor.”

“I’m listening.”

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