Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 111768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
I motion past us, down the sidewalk, toward Washington Square Park on the corner near the school. It's as good of a place as any to walk to. Naz takes my hand, something that surprises me, even though it probably shouldn't. We're married, for Christ's sake, but still… he takes my breath away sometimes with the little things.
It's busy in the park, as it usually is at this hour, as students come and go between classes. We find an empty bench near the entrance and sit down on it. I drop my bag by my feet, kicking it to the side, away from Naz, so he doesn't get any bright ideas about trying to carry it again.
He takes care of me enough as it is.
"Have you thought about it any more?"
His question catches me off guard.
I'm not sure what he means.
"Have I thought about what?"
"About leaving New York."
"Oh." My insides twist at that. Have I thought about leaving? Sure. I think about it at least once a day, sometimes more. But have I made up my mind about whether or not I want to? Well, that's where I'm just not as sure…
Memories haunt me here. Every time I turn a corner, they're there, lingering, lurking, a reminder of everything that happened, the things he did, the things I caused. I know it's not all my fault, not at all, but I'm not blameless. Silence implies consent. I've heard that said so many times. If you don't speak up about something, you're letting it happen. Acquiescence. Living here, there's no way we can ever really have a fresh start. We're covered in permanent marker. We can't erase our black marks… not in New York.
But to actually leave means walking away from the only place I've ever thought of as home. It means leaving the people I care about, leaving my best friend, saying goodbye to Naz's father. Am I ready for that? It means leaving behind the good memories I've had here along with all of the bad. Because there's been a lot of bad, yes… but there was still so much good.
"Oh," he repeats after a moment of silence. "Should I take that as a no?"
"I don't know," I say with a sigh. "I just... is it a mistake? I don't want it to be like we're just running away from our problems, because eventually they'll catch up to us whenever we stop running, you know?"
"Yeah," he says. "I know."
"I just wish someone would give me some sort of sign so I know what the right thing to do is."
"The right thing, Karissa, is whatever you want to do. There's no wrong decision here."
I want to believe that.
But it doesn't feel that way.
"I don't know," I say. "I don't know what I want. I'm happy here, but I just wonder if maybe we'd be happier somewhere else."
He says nothing to that.
I don't know what he's thinking.
I wish he'd be the one to make this decision.
But he puts it on me, and that's a lot of pressure, because despite what he says, I fear there might be a wrong decision here.
And knowing me?
I'd be the one to make it.
"Hey! Guys!"
Melody's voice is unmistakable. By the time I look up, she's already right in front of me, dragging a flustered looking Leo along with her, her hand locked in his so tightly he nails dig into his skin. He doesn't put up a fight, but he doesn't seem very enthusiastic about it for some reason.
"Miss Carmichael," Naz says casually. "Nice to see you again."
"You, too." She gives him a brief once-over. "Stylin' and profilin' as usual, I see."
Naz glances down at himself, brow furrowed slightly, like maybe he doesn't know what the hell she means.
"Hey, Mel," I chime in, to spare him from that conversation. If he asked, she'd probably only confuse him more. "What are you guys up to?"
"Heading to grab some lunch," she says. "Oh! Why don't you join us? That would be awesome, wouldn't it?"
I start to decline, as Leo nervously rubs his neck with his free hand, but Naz interjects before anyone else can say anything. "I think that's a wonderful idea."
Uh… okay.
Not the response I was expecting, especially after the conversation we'd had about him making friends. He glances at me, raising his eyebrows, awaiting agreement. I shrug, because really, who am I to decline at this point? He's already said yes.
"Sure," I say. "Where are we going?"
Melody turns to Leo, smiling proudly, knowing she accomplished one hell of a feat getting Naz to agree. "Where to?"
He hesitates, glancing between Melody and me, his eyes never greeting Naz. "Wherever you want to eat, love."
"I know a place," Naz says, getting to his feet. He stands right in front of Leo, a mere few feet between them. He casually fixes his tie, eyes right on the boy, not once looking away. Leo still doesn't look at him, but it's obvious he notices, with the way he fidgets, pulling Melody closer, trying to look unflustered, but man… he's a mess.
Naz says I'm not intuitive, that I'm terrible at reading people, and it's obvious to even me that Leo is uncomfortable around my husband.
"The deli?" I ask, hopeful. I haven't seen Giuseppe since the incident. I miss the guy. Would be nice to see him again.
Naz laughs. "No, the pizzeria in Brooklyn."
"Oh, uh…" I look to Melody for her reaction, knowing we ate there before with Paul, but she merely shrugs, like that doesn't bother her at all.
"Sounds great to me," she says, looking to Leo for his reaction, but he says nothing. No objections. No confirmations. Nothing.
"Wonderful," Naz says, reaching into his pocket for his keys. "I'll drive."
I see it then, the panic in Leo's eyes. The color drains from his face as he quickly shakes his head, locked in place, tugging Melody's hand to stop her when she tries to walk away. "We'll just meet you guys there."
Naz raises his eyebrows. "Nonsense, my car's right over there."
"Yeah, but, you know…" Leo stammers, like he's searching for a reason not to get in that car. "It's just that, well…"