Cupcakes, Geez
Now he's having the time of his life.
Yes, he has moved on. Yes, he has let go. Yes, he has found someone else. Yes, she's everything a man can ask for. Yes, they are a match made in Heaven. Yes, life is good and beautiful. Yes, he wants the whole damn world to witness his success. Yes, he wants everyone he knows to cheer and applause and be amazed at his happiness. Happiness. He sits down at the table, pondering the meaning of the little sneaky tricky word, and smiles at Emily.
Her smile is quiet and sweet. Her light brown hair is shining and smooth. Her greyish brown eyes are tender and warm. She's not stunningly beautiful, but she looks lovely in this daisy yellow dress. Everything inside her bright airy apartment is tiny and neat. She loves to bake. She loves to cook. She loves books. She loves kids. She giggles at his silly jokes and funny stories. She blushes whenever he looks into her eyes and whispers "Cupcake" in her ear. His dog loves her. His mother loves her. His sister and sister-in-law loves her. Even his crazy Grandma fell for her charm. She's pretty. She's polite. She's from a decent Catholic family. She makes the best grilled cheese sandwich on this crowded sad planet. They are now the center of all the gossips and rumours in the Burg. And he simply loves the envy and surprise in people' eyes when they see him and Emily together.
No. He's not stalling. Of course he knows everybody is waiting for him to pop the question. Twice a month she comes over and cleans up his two-story house. Thrice a week she cooks him dinner, sleeps over, and walks Bob before going to work. As far as everyone else is concerned, she has already become a member of his family, and he loves waking up next to her in the morning. He knows she will be a great mother. He knows she will be a perfect wife. He knows he should jump out of his chair, rush out of the restaurant, and go get her a ring. He knows he should get down on his knee, present her with the ring, and ask her to marry him. But still he has doubts. He can't shut off the voice in the back of his mind. He doesn't know if he can truly trust himself. He doesn't know if she is enough.
He always has this yearning. He always has this dream. He always wants to be who he wants to be. He always wants to be what he can not be. And sometimes, when he wakes up all alone in the deepest of the night, he feels...afraid. Trapped. Caged. Suffocated. And then he will feels this strange, compelling urge deep down within. He will hear this music in his ears. He will want to be free. He will want to roll off his bed, and start running. He will want to run to a place where no one knows him. He will want to change his name, dye his hair, and shave his chest. He will want to leave everyone and everything behind. He will want to start all over again. He will sell his car and buy a bike. He will sell his house and buy a bar. He will go to bed when the sun is up. He will dance his own dance and sing his own song. He will let go and move on and sell everything he has when he grows tired. He will go find someone and somewhere else. He will be happy. He will be free.
He takes another sip of his beer, trying his best to concentrate on what Emily is saying, and feels guilty. He's no longer young. He will turn 40 next week. Most of his friends and cousins are married or remarried with kids. Are they happy? Are they contented? Are they fulfilled? Are they living their dreams? He doesn't know. He doesn't want to know. He's afraid that the truth will make him weep. He's afraid that—
"Joe? Joe? Are you listening to me?"
Emily's voice brings him back to reality. He apologizes quickly. He doesn't want to upset Emily. They have been dating for a while now. Maybe it's time to settle down. Maybe he's having something like premarital anxiety. Maybe he's been working too hard these past months. Maybe things will be fine if he stops thinking so much. Maybe he can excuse himself for 10 minutes to get Emily a ring. Get a grip, Morelli, and get it over with. He looks into Emily's eyes and berates himself. She's a good woman. She's completely different from Stephanie. Together they can build a beautiful happy big family. Children. Puppies. Laughter. Joy. Grandma Bella and Bob bathing in the sun under the huge apple tree. Everyone will be happy. So will he. His smile falters a little as he notices something in Emily eyes. Tears. She has tears in her eyes. She's about to cry. Realization hits him and his heart skips a beat. What happened? What is wrong? He has never ever seen her like this. "Emily? Cupcake? Are you OK?"
"Joe, I'm sorry." Emily Hasting says in a shaky broken voice, as if feeling ashamed of herself. She raises her hand and shows him a ring. It's plain and simple. It's nothing fancy or too expensive. And oddly, it fits her perfectly. "I met someone else."
He sits there gaping at Emily. He can not speak. He can not think. He doesn't move when she pays the bill and wipes away her tears. He still can't utter a sound when she stands up and quietly leaves. He stays where he is for a long long while with Emily's last "I'm sorry" ringing in his ears. People come. People go. The world keeps moving on around him. Finally, with a slightly trembling hand, he grasps hold of his glass and finishes the already warm beer. He frowns as the dull bitterness explodes in his still dry mouth. All of a sudden he thinks of Stephanie. He closes his eyes. He clenches his teeth. He wants to bang his head on the table and yell "Why me?"
She didn't say "I'm sorry". She just left. She's now a mother of two little kids. That crazy bitch.