Chapter Thirty-Five: Evan

I should want this.

This should feel right, nothing about this should feel like a loss. If anything, I should be celebrating this.

I should be jumping up and down knowing the closure I've wanted has been given to me, that there's no ambiguity between me and Maggie anymore.

There's no need to read between the lines and second guess every interaction because when people tell you what they feel, you should believe them.

But how come I have a hard time doing that?

It's not because I don't believe her, I do. I would never question her judgment because she knows herself better than anyone. We've known each for so long but that doesn't give me the right to dictate her choices; heck, even Levi, who she's dated for God knows how long doesn't have the right.

Even if you think you know a person, even if you justify your intrusion by saying it's love, the second you take away a person's agency, and make their choices for them? That's when you should reevaluate whether it's them that you love, or an archetype you've constructed in your head.

I've seen Maggie at her best, and I've seen her at her worst, and there have been moments in the past where her decisions upset me, where she made me want to take the steering wheel and hurl us into a different direction.

But over time, I've learned that when you love someone... you love them despite all the things that get in the way of you loving them. Even when it becomes unbearable, even when the sight of them with someone new makes your insides burn; you ignore the pain because loving someone is about wanting what's best for them, not what's best for you.

We've gone our separate ways, that was made clear when she told me I should ask Alyssa out; everything worked in my favor but somehow, everything still feels wrong.

Be it denial or because I can never be satisfied when things don't go my way.

Why is it that I'm not satisfied? There's no obscurity anymore, all I need now is to take that one final step, and make things official with Alyssa. To not only convince Maggie I've moved on...

But to also convince myself.

That's why as I stand outside Alyssa's apartment, my mind is determined to get this over with. To close the chapter I've been writing for God knows how long, and accept this is how our story ends.

"Evan?"

I looked up, and the sight of Alyssa's face came to view. Her eyes are wide and in her moment of stupor I took a second to examine her appearance - she was in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. Her hair is tied into a loose hanging ponytail, and her face is bare, which made her freckles look more prominent, as she tends to conceal them with makeup.

I smiled "I like you better this way,"

Her eyebrows sowed in confusion until realization dawned on her, and she was quick to close the door, leaving the tiniest gap open, as she hid her face on the other side.

"Can you like, give me two minutes to get ready?"

I chuckled, putting my hand on the door as I gently nudged it open "You know I wouldn't care if I saw you wearing a plastic bag, right? Come on, let me in, I brought takeout."

Her gaze flickered to my hands which indeed, held paper bags that contained Chinese food "Okay... only since you bought food, I'll set aside my pride."

She stepped aside and let me into her apartment. I scanned the area and it looked like any other cramped apartment here in NYC owned by a financially struggling college student.

I recall her describing the interior of her apartment not too long ago while we were on the phone chatting, and how she needed to have two, sometimes three, part-time jobs back in high school to save up for her move here to NYC. It wasn't until she came here that she had the daunting realization it wasn't enough.

From what I can remember she mentioned this being a 60-square-meter one-bedroom apartment, and that it cost $1100 per month, which is the average price for the cheapest apartments here in NYC.

The space appeared well-maintained. The paint job is a nice hue of beige with dark brown accents, giving it a cozy ambiance as natural beams of sunlight illuminated the living room. In the center is a moss green couch with a small coffee table. Books were stacked on the surface and upon walking closer, I inspected the selection and recognized works by Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Plath, and Oscar Wide.

In the far corner of the room, there was a wooden desk that held a variety of items, but what stuck out the most for me were the numerous papers scattered everywhere, from documents to sticky notes plastered on the edge of the desk, I turned around and glanced at Alyssa, and she motioned for me to take a look.

My eyes skimmed rapidly on what was written on the papers, a grin tugging up my lips as I plucked one out and read aloud the title "Why Hustle Culture Is Overrated, Why We Need To Stop Thinking Being Successful Is the Norm?" I raised my eyes to look at her and was greeted with a sheepish smile.

"Studying at a prestigious University with the financial stability of a sewer rat has made me a little bit... I wouldn't say bitter but-"

"Indignant?"

She snapped her fingers "Exactly."

"I wouldn't put it past you to feel that way, some people who study in Ivy League schools could be the biggest show-offs." I said, "Take it from me, I was one of them."

Her lips parted at that "Wait really?" I nodded as she let out a groan, throwing her head back "How pretentious were you?"

I rubbed the nape of my neck "A little bit. Not my proudest moment."

She playfully rolled her eyes, crossing her arms "I expected better from you."

"I know, I know," I said, walking towards her as the smile on her face dropped when she noticed how close I got "I'll find a way to make it up to you though."

She gulped upon hearing my words, but perhaps I was just imagining it "C-come again?"

Chuckling, I motioned my head to her couch as I gestured to the food I bought "Before I elaborate, how about we eat first, yeah?"

She doesn't know how to be patient, fidgeting now and then from where she was sitting and looking up at me, trying to gauge a reaction maybe, before she averts her gaze when I reciprocate eye contact. Maybe if I wasn't as nervous, the situation would be downright adorable.

But the truth is, I was just better at masking my emotions because I have no idea what my game plan is here. I have a goal in mind but I'm reluctant if I should go through with it. After all, Maggie was the one who insisted on the idea, and I wonder why I even agreed.

Maybe because I wanted to prove something. Prove that I came here with good intentions and not because my motivations were driven by my fucking insecurities.

But what I hate is that I'm still thinking about Maggie even though Alyssa is in front of me, willing to talk even though I haven't been the most attentive, even though I've lied more times than I can count and stood her up because of another girl. It was one mistake right after the other, yet she's still here.

She looks at me as if I can never do anything wrong. She's forgiving, she's kind, she's funny, she's sweet, she gives me time when I need it, and most importantly, with her, it's easy. So fucking easy.

... But how come I feel like I'm ripping out so much of myself, just to give her some room to be in my life?

"Hey," she reached forward and held my hand in hers "You spaced out again."

Embarrassed, I mentally scold myself for losing sight of the situation. "I'm sorry," I said, letting out a shaky laugh "I just have a lot on my mind right now."

She tipped her head to the side, gaze filled with concern "Is it anything serious?"

I deliberate on the words I"m about to say next, thinking this is either going to go according to plan or end up in fucking shambles. I could lose my chances of starting over again.

"It's about us, actually." I professed "When I said I wanted to make it up to you, I know I said it in a joking manner, but truth is, I don't know how I'm going to tell this to you without making an absolute fool of myself."

Her eyebrows furrowed, perplexed at my sudden admission "Evan, what are you talking about?"

I swallowed harshly, my mouth going dry as my ability to communicate began to shut down, not because I dread a horrible outcome, but rather, regardless of whatever result I'll get, I don't know how I'm going to handle it afterward. I came here with a motive but not with a purpose.

But I've made it this far, what's the point of turning back?

"I know it hasn't been long since we've gotten to know each other," I began, and perhaps my introduction foreshadowed the end of my confession too early because it didn't take long for Alyssa to pick up on where I was going with this, her eyes going wide.

I fidget in my seat as I continued "But when I met you, everything just clicked. We got along quickly, we had so much to talk about, and for the first time since my last relationship, I met someone who got rid of the loneliness I felt these past few years," Brief as it was.

But her face failed to hide whatever she was feeling, the ends of her mouth tipping upward, a slight blush staining her cheeks as her pupils dilated. The sight was nothing short of beautiful and innocent, yet I feel like I'm committing a crime so inhumane.

She bit her bottom lip "What are you saying?" Despite the naivety of her question, her tone betrayed her awareness of the situation.

But I played along with it "What I'm trying to say is... you make me happy," which is true "I haven't been this comfortable being with anyone else since my last relationship." also true "and I feel confident in knowing that if I were to move on now, I would want it to be with you."

She stared at me as if I offered to give her the world, and it's crazy what such little words can do to one person "So much can be in jeopardy here, and I know I'm putting our friendship at risk, but I'd rather risk losing everything just to tell you the truth."

... Which is true, so much can be at risk here, then again, what more do I have to lose?

I took her hands in mine and held them tightly "I like you a lot, Alyssa Martin." her lips parted. "Meeting you, I finally gave myself a reason not to hold onto past baggage anymore."

Dumbfounded, it's clear she was struggling to find the right words "I... don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say much. I just want to know if you like me too."

She blinked once, then twice, before the biggest smile I've ever seen on her face came to view "Evan Williams, I've liked you since the moment I first laid eyes on you,"

The response was perfect, heck, it almost felt like it was taken out of a movie script. It should feel right, and I should be fucking celebrating this but...

It's not the same as getting stuck at the top of a Ferris Wheel and panicking that things didn't go according to plan while the girl you love is sitting right across from you, confused about what's happening before you kiss her like your life depends on it.

It was messy, chaotic and most importantly, it was hard.

But how come that's what I want instead of this?

I leaned forward and pressed my lips against Alyssa's, and it wasn't hard for her to ease into the sensation right away as if she expected this.

As if everything fell right into place.

As if her world was turned upside down for the better, while mine stayed completely the same.