Page 47 of Reply All
They’ll say a lot of things—just like people. But let me tell you something right here, right now about these places and brands: they’relyingto you. Because no bagel will ever taste as good as the one from your local bodega or deli in New York. No bakery outside of the five boroughs will ever be able to deliver quite the same quality or taste. And while there are a million different types of bagel combinations, your order will never fail while you’re here. True New Yorkers know it takes one single hot bagel with the perfect filling to make your shitty day turn around. And yet, not even the extra-toasted poppy seed bagel with a thick layer of scallion cream cheese and slices of extra-crispy bacon from my favorite people at the deli can save my mood this gloomy Saturday morning.
I try. Oh, do I try. Because Will’s the one who bought me this bagel (and coffee) and suggested we walk around the neighborhood as we talk. Because I don’t want him to see how upset I am after the incredible night we shared. Because, even though I’d love for us to be together, I’d rather not risk losing him. I’d rather pine away, so long as we get to share the same orbit. So I endure the pain and nod when he suggests he get me my favorite order “To clear the air and get the awkwardness out of the way,” he said.
But as we wander aimlessly around the city, munching away, I begin to doubt his plan. His phone keeps going off, but Will never responds—though he can’t seem to ignore it, either. Which obviously makes me obsess over who the hell is texting him so much. Makes me paranoid he’ll use it as an excuse to get away. Also, it reminds me of how quick he’s been to reply to my messages. A few weeks ago, I started to wonder whether it was because of me. Whether it was because he was as excited to talk to me as I was to him and that’s why he always had his phone on hand. Now, I mostly feel like an idiot because it could’ve just been that he’s one of those people addicted to his phone.
This isn’t me. I’m not like this. I am not this person at all. I’m not one to sulk and pout and wish things were different. I’m one to accept, find the positive, and move on. And yet, I feel like this one’s gonna take more than what it did when I found out everything my ex ever did to me.
“Is the bagel good?” he asks as we take a seat on a bench.
“Sure,” I say around a huge bite. I chew quickly and swallow before speaking. “Thanks again. I had, like, no food in my apartment.”
Will grins and takes a sip of his coffee. “No problem. I was starving and figured you’d like a good bagel. You mentioned this was your favorite place, right?”
He’s so sweet. He’s so sweet and—fuck—I think I may be mere millimeters away from falling for him—crashing,really. Crashing in love. Definitely a more accurate description of what’s going on.
This is such a dangerous game.
“Yeah.” I smile and nod, stuffing my face with an even bigger bite of my bagel to stop myself from saying something stupid. From asking the wrong questions.Why don’t you like me? We would be so good together. We would be more than the incredible sex we had last night.
Will’s phone vibrates again, but this time it doesn’t stop. He groans when he pulls it out, and looks at the screen.
“Everything okay? You need to get that?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nah. Just… I think I have to head back to the office soon.”
“Are you serious? It’s a Saturday!”
He heaves a heavy sigh. “I know, but I still have a ton of work to do. I left work early yesterday and…”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to pull you away from anything important.”
“What? No, don’t be sorry.You’reimportant. What you were going through was more important. I wanted to be there for you.Wantto. I knew what I was doing. I just have to pay the consequences for it now.” He scratches the back of his head as he reads through his messages. “I’m sorry, it’s just if I don’t answer now, it will never stop.”
“Your boss?” Which seems like an obvious question.
Will looks me straight in the eye and a beat passes before he nods. “Yeah. He’s being extra demanding lately.”
He proceeds to unlock the phone and type furiously for a couple of minutes. In the meantime, I do my silver lining recalibration. I look around the neighborhood, try to find things to appreciate. And while the sun is out for the first time in a while, the cold seems to bite at my skin even harder than usual. Though I usually love to people-watch and appreciate the melting pot that is this city, I’m suddenly overwhelmed by the crowds. It’s like I’ve lost my positivity superpower, and I’m being sucked in by the harsh realities I possibly refused to accept or acknowledge.
I don’t like this.
With a groan, he sits back and looks up at the sky. He pockets his phone and says nothing.
“At the risk of stating the obvious, you seem stressed,” I tell him.
This makes him laugh once, a little more light finally coming back into his eyes. “You could say that.” He nods. Sighs. “My job…”
I study his expression for a moment, taking in the clear exhaustion in his eyes that goes way deeper than the late night we spent together having sex. It goes beyond a bad week at work—even a bad month. Whenever we talk about work he looks… bone tired. Depleted, almost.“Why are you doing this?” I ask.
“Huh? Doing what?”
“This job. You hate it. Why are you still here? You’re smart and charismatic. I feel like you could charm the most difficult person in the world to hand you the keys to their entire empire in a heartbeat. You seem like the kind of guy who could do anything he wants. Instead, you’re doing something you very clearly hate. Even in this economy, you’re a star candidate. Why not find something else in a different industry? Or have you already been looking? This obviously isn’t something you want to do forever, is it?”
He presses his lips together and looks away. I feel like a total idiot.
“Sorry. I don’t mean to pry or cross any boundaries. Too many personal questions.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s you, Bridget. Anyone else, I wouldn’t be down to talk about this.”
