The Difference Read online

  I love when she gets a kick out of her own jokes. “Let’s hope.”

  “What else? I think I see one more point on there.” She moves her head closer to the paper trying to read through the back.

  “This is the big one. I crossed it out, but I probably should bring it up.” I take a deep breath and go back to the pretend conversation with Brian. “We have been dating four years. I would love to talk about marriage soon.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes widen.

  That’s probably what he would react like with this last point. I force myself to push past my desire to run into the bathroom, lock the door, and never come out again. “Do you ever think about it?” I enlarge my eyes, conveying to continue immediately or I may still flee.

  Maggie nods, widens her eyes again as well and says, “I have thought about it but didn’t think that you wanted to get married right now.”

  “I think I do.” My hands shake.

  “You think?”

  “I should probably not be so unsure with him, right?” I ask Maggie.

  Also coming out of character, she responds, “I wouldn’t be. Do you or don’t you?”

  This seems like an uncomplicated question. I should have no ifs, ands, or buts about it at this point. My heart screams at me, saying, “Yes you want to get married, you idiot.” I want it, but my head says to stop and consider the facts. Like, why hasn’t he asked? Is something wrong with him? Is he dying? Oh my God, what if he’s dying and he hasn’t told me. Argh! Stop it. Who am I kidding? Of course I want it. We don’t have to get married soon, but to at least know that’s where we are headed is important to me. I guess I wouldn’t be bothered that we haven’t talked about it if I didn’t want it. I decide on the obvious answer.

  “Yes, of course I do.”

  “Okay then. We can go look at rings if you want. Let’s go to a few jewelry stores this coming weekend. What do you say?”

  My heart returns to its average beat with this soothing thought. That should clue me into what I want in itself. “Sounds perfect.” I smile. I have a hint of hope that he would be on my same page, like Mags pretended he would be.

  “I love you, Rachel.” Maggie makes kissing sounds. “Let’s get married and have dozens of kids.”

  “Mags! Seriously, do you think he will want to move forward?”

  “I’m sure of it. What reason would he not want to? It wouldn’t make any sense if he doesn’t. He lives with you and you’ve been together forever.”

  “Yeah, you have to be right. But is there anything else we aren’t thinking about that he may say?”

  She breaks the silence after what feels like five minutes. “I think no matter what happens, you’ll have a good outcome. You’re Rachel and Brian. You guys are made for each other.”

  I smile ear to ear and give her a tight hug. “Thanks for helping me sort through this mess in my head.”

  She shakes her head and points to mine. “I wouldn’t want to be in there, but I’m glad to work through the cherished list with you.”

  “No, you wouldn’t want to be in there, believe me.”

  “Do you think this conversation will help you feel like you’re out of your ‘rut?’”

  I take a second to think, but words fly out of my mouth to convince myself. “Yes, it has to be the problem. Everything else in my life is set.”

  “True. I hope the chat does help you get back to the old Rachel I know and love.”

  “I do too.”

  If that’s possible.

  Now that I have a plan, I can try to relax, at least physically, because my thoughts never stop racing. I’m so lucky to have Maggie as a friend. She helped me today more than she knows. Well, she probably knows since she knows me well. I learned that once again today. She had to force information out of me, but I have a feeling she wasn’t going to leave until she found out what was happening. That’s my Mags.

  “Well, I’ll leave you to it.” She gathers her thrown about items and walks toward the front door.

  “Let me know if Ray calls,” I say.

  Before she closes my front door, she says, “You’ll be the first to know after me. See you later.”

  “Bye.”

  After she leaves, I curl up with a book about the behind the scenes of the movie Titanic and try to forget about dinner tonight for a little while. I’ve spent so much mental energy on the situation already and need to save some or I’ll chicken out from pure exhaustion. I refuse to let that happen.

  The night should be fine. No, it will be fine. I repeat the mantra in my head. And the most important aspect of my plan? No fainting will occur. I make myself that promise.

  Chapter 5

  Growing up, Sunday dinner was always reserved for family, and even though I didn’t get the cooking gene, I’ve always wanted to continue that tradition with my own family. Thankfully, Brian likes to cook and is happy to make sure that eating “lotsa pasta,” my family’s phrase, lives on. We’ve modernized pasta Sundays to include any Italian-oriented meal in our household.

  I sit down and Brian puts a steaming bowl of parmesan risotto in front of me before joining me at the counter. If I don’t do this now, I’ll just delay it again.

  “Brian, I need to talk to you about something important.” I blow on the steamy risotto on my spoon.

  He looks up from his bowl, his brow furrowed. “About what?”

  I take a quick bite and swallow, working up the courage. “I don’t know where to start…”

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  I take a deep breath. “I haven’t been feeling as connected with you.”

  Brian doesn’t move.

  My heart beats faster and I push through the building anxiety. “I feel like you work all the time. Like, all the time. There’s barely any time left for us. And now I think I’m too used to you being gone so it’s kind of weird when you aren’t working late or are home on the weekends. That isn’t good. Don’t get me wrong. I love that you’re ambitious, but sometimes I feel like you forget about me. Or maybe you’d rather be at work than home with me.”

  Brian opens his mouth, but I hold up my hand to stop him. If I let him talk, I may lose my nerve.

  “We used to be so affectionate, but now we hug on occasion and rarely kiss. And you used to tell me I was pretty at least once a day. Am I horrid now? I mean, I know I’m not all into clothes and makeup and stuff, but you fell in love with me for some reason. And I’d think you are at least a little attracted to me, right? It makes me feel better about myself when you compliment me.”

  Brian sits back in his chair and folds his hands in front of him.

  “Date night was a great idea, but how often do we do that anymore? And please, let’s not talk about Friday night. I want to go out to dinner more, walk around the city, and find some festivals to attend. Where is the Brian who used to surprise me with dates more than just once a year?”

  Brian cringes, jerking his head back.

  I may have gone too far with that one. My emotions are getting the best of me. Scale it back, Rach.

  “And finally, how long have we been together now? Are you ever going to propose? Did I do something to turn you off? Do you not want me as your wife someday? Are you even thinking about proposing? I feel like I’m spinning my wheels here, so give me a clue.” There. I did it. It’s all out.

  My worries kick into overdrive and my stomach churns. I sit back in my chair and wait for him to process everything I just spit out.

  After what feels like a century, he looks straight into my eyes and says, “I feel the same way.”

  My entire body tenses and a million thoughts course through my brain. Is that all he’s going to say? Is he going to break up with me? What’s he thinking? Should I keep talking? What else could I say?

  He folds his arms on the counter. “Rach, I work that much becaus
e I have to. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I wanted to be away from you more than I’m with you? I have a lot of responsibilities at work and sometimes need to put in a little extra effort to get things done. You know I also want to move up in the company. I can’t stay in this position forever.”

  And…I suck.

  I unlock my eyes with his and look down. “Okay, that makes me feel a little better.”

  “As for not showing any affection, you can’t place all of that blame on me.”

  My jaw drops and I look up at him once again. “W-what do you mean?”

  “How many times have I wanted to have sex and you turn me down?”

  “Well—”

  “You can’t say you don’t do that. You never start anything either. I don’t see you jumping up to hug or kiss me when I walk in the door. So yeah, I haven’t thought about getting that close lately. That doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re pretty, though. You’re beautiful. Nothing could ever change that. And I have said it recently, but you can’t hear me. I can get better at saying it more often, though. But you don’t see what you do, or don’t do, anymore either.”

  Tears stream down my face and into my risotto. “I guess not.” I hadn’t considered his perspective at all. Maybe it’s time I listen to him, instead of focusing on myself.

  “This isn’t a new thing. It’s been happening for a while now. At first, I wasn’t sure what to think and probably pulled away from you a bit. I wasn’t sure if you were angry with me or if something else was wrong. The date the other night was me trying to reconnect. I don’t want this distance between us because I do love you. And maybe I don’t always show it in the right ways, but you haven’t been yourself for a while, and I wonder if you even recognize that.”

  “This is a lot to take in. I didn’t know you noticed stuff was different too.”

  “I’m not blind. I’m human. And a normal guy…with normal urges.” He reaches over and pokes me in the ribs.

  For the first time since we sat down, I crack a small smile.

  The corners of his mouth curl into a frown. “To tell you the truth, I have been kind of worried about you. Have you noticed how reclusive you’ve been?”

  “You know I’d rather stay in than go out into the city—”

  “Stop right there. That is not the woman I met years ago. You were the one who got us tickets to every event that looked interesting. You used to love experiencing this city, but I can’t tell if you still do. Now, you even complain about going out with Maggie and she’s your best friend. You’d rather hide in the apartment and read. And you just said you want us to go out more, so you don’t even know what you want.”

  My mind races and I struggle to keep up. He’s right. It’s time to ask the million-dollar question.

  I stare down at my risotto. “So, do you ever think about marrying me?” My words crawl out.

  “Yes!”

  I let out a sigh and my chest loosens a little.

  “Rach, I love you to death. I hope you still know that.”

  I nod once and grab my glass on the counter.

  He continues, “I’ve seen my friends propose, get married, and some even have kids. Don’t you think I want that for us? I know what I want, but I am not too sure about what you want.”

  My glass drops out of my hands and tips over. “How can you possibly think that? It’s all I think about. Every day, I listen to Annabelle talk about her glorious life with her perfect husband and their ideal house and all the fun coupley stuff they do on the weekends. Don’t you think I want that life too?” I reach over my plate for a towel from near the sink so I can clean up my mess.

  Brian takes the towel and wipes up the spill for me.

  I drop back into my chair, rub my tears away, and shriek, “We have been together all these years and still can’t communicate effectively. I might not be alone in my misery, but you shouldn’t be either. Instead of talking about it, we’re fighting.”

  “Rachel, I want to be with you forever. I want to have a family with you. I want to propose to you right now. But do you want to know what’s holding me back?”

  My shoulders droop and I can barely speak. “Y-yes.”

  “For being a therapist, I don’t understand how you can have no idea about yourself.”

  He pauses.

  “I think you’re missing something in your life that I can’t fill for you.”

  My eyes crunch down in confusion. I wasn’t expecting that. “Huh? You know I’m in my own thoughts all the time. All I do when I am not at work is to think about my life…almost to an unhealthy level.”

  Brian raises his eyebrows. “You are in your thoughts all the time. And I think you have this huge hole inside of you that you expect me to fill—or expect it to be filled when we’re married. I can’t complete you. You have to figure yourself out first.”

  How many times have I heard Annabelle say she tells her clients something similar? But I haven’t connected the message for myself yet. “What…am I…missing, though?”

  “I wish I could answer that question, but that isn’t how it works. Until you can fill this empty space within yourself, I don’t think we can move forward together. I am scared that this hole is starting to swallow you up.” Brian stops and grabs my hand, pushing aside his bowl to rest his elbow on the counter. “You’re not alone, but again, I can’t do this for you.”

  I’m trying to process everything that’s been said. It’s like I’m drowning and can’t find a way to the surface anymore. This is the worst Sunday dinner of my life.

  Chapter 6

  “So, tell me about the convo now! You’ve made me chase you all week,” Maggie says.

  “Sorry. It’s not you. I just need time to think through things and try to figure them out for myself.”

  “Yeah, I know, I know. Miss do-it-all-on-your-own.” She takes a bite of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

  I unwrap mine from the wax paper. “How much detail do you want?”

  “All of it! Don’t make me beg.”

  We sit down on a bench. Spring is in full bloom and Central Park is full of people out for a Saturday morning walk. The fresh air and kindness of my bestie to drag me out of my apartment for an impromptu picnic and girls’ day may be just what I need to feel some relief. I hope.

  “This week feels like a blur. Ugh.” I think back to try to remember what I’ve half obsessed over and half tried to block out of my mind. “Our practice conversation didn’t prepare me as much as I would have liked.”

  “Oh no.” She furrows her brow.

  “Yeah, we couldn’t predict that he would say he felt the same distance I have been feeling.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. We went through the work topic and that was no biggie. He just needs to work, plain and simple. It isn’t about me. But then he said how our lack of intimacy is not all his fault and, get this, that he’s been worried about me.”

  I look at Maggie’s face for a validating reaction to my shock, but it remains flat.

  “Mags? Isn’t that ridiculous?” I need her to be on my side. I need her to say she hasn’t noticed any difference in me. Come on, Maggie, say it. Please!

  “Well, I can’t disagree with Brian.” She looks down and takes a deep breath.

  I remain silent.

  She reaches over and lays her hand on my knee. “Look, I know you love your cozy nights in and don’t need as much social time as me, but you’ve been even more reclusive than usual lately. Harrison gets you all to himself. I want some Rachel for me.”

  “That’s what he basically said, minus the Harrison part.” I slump in my seat. My sandwich isn’t as appetizing anymore.

  “We care about you. That’s all. It’s hard for me to see you in this ‘rut,’ as you call it.”

  “Brian said there’s a hole in me that he can’t fi
ll. A hole! I’m defective once again.”

  How many times in my life have I felt abnormal? Oh, let me count the ways. This brings me to every memory of wanting to stand in a corner and escape the world when I was a kid, surrounded by cool, pretty, athletic people, while I was the nerd who read and kept to herself. It wasn’t easy to talk to other people and make friends. I’m not outgoing and sure wasn’t in my youth. Now my boyfriend thinks there’s something wrong with me.

  “You aren’t broken, boo. But what do you think he means? Did he tell you more?”

  “He said he wants to marry me, but that marriage won’t fix what I may be missing. That he can’t be my solution so we can’t move forward with engagement yet. I know that, but didn’t think…” I can’t bring myself to finish the thought. It’s like I’m in a cheesy rom com movie. Yeah sure, a guy will save me and we will be married happily ever after with all my problems disappearing into thin air. Old Rachel would have never thought that way. I have an urge to scream for what I’ve become but I push it down. I don’t need people thinking someone is getting assaulted.

  “And this week we’ve somehow been even more distant than before the open communication.” I can’t help but roll my eyes as I emphasize that phrase with sarcasm. “That’s a new goal with us. Anyway, Brian heard my points and has said I look beautiful a few times this week, and I’ve tried to hug and kiss him more frequently, but it’s our silence otherwise that bothers me. I’ve been so lonely. At least we aren’t fighting, but a fight may be better than this lack of emotion. I’ve never felt so awkward in my life, and that says a lot. Even with both of our efforts, the metaphorical wall remains between us.”

  “Let’s knock it down!” She punches and kicks the air.

  “I don’t know how. I thought couples feel closer after they have a deep discussion like we did, even if it was only one talk. But reality strikes again and works against my logic and professional training. I want to hide. Was all I ever learned in school a joke? Maybe I am not even a good therapist.” Well, one thing I learned is true. Situations and feelings do get worse before they get better.