The house didn’t feel like home, even when Cullen was still here. It didn’t even feel like an empty house; it was just vacant space that I do not belong in.
I had left New York in 2016 mainly because Cullen needed to be closer to his family. Cullen was my fiancée, a man that I met back in college. He was an artist, and had a vivid imagination as he painted. He was passionate, and it took me falling in love with him to learn of his chronic disease. He was the man I was engaged to, with our wedding to come in just three months before he passed. He was a good man, so much that I never felt like a good woman. I felt like a caregiver living only for his life. A part of him knew that eventually that’s all that he saw in me.
I remember leaving every piece of furniture, appliance, and silverware behind, only taking the most important things to me. I returned every piece of dance clothing to Clementine, my dance instructor here in North Carolina. In the time I spent there, she was the one person that I was able to talk to and trust. She knew everything that happened between me and Cullen. She was the one that understood the pain I was going through when he passed away. She was also the one that encouraged me to come back home, reminding me that was always something waiting for me when I did. It’s been weird to go from living in a huge house to an apartment at my mother’s house, but at least I was able to come back to love and support during a time I thought I had lost it all.
Danny and Nicki were the people that had met me at the airport, welcoming me with open arms. I don’t think I’ve ever saw Nicki cry as much as she did when she saw me that day.
“Nic,” I said, trying to hold back the tears. She pulled herself out of the hug, giving me a good look before she said anything.
“I’m sorry, I’m just still in shock that you’re actually standing in front of me.” I smiled, looking down at her tiny belly. “You’ve obviously missed a lot.”
“I sure did,” I teased, smiling as I looked at both of my friends. “Thank you for picking me up today; my mom doesn’t even know I’m back in New York.”
“She doesn’t?” Danny intervened. I shook my head, which surprised them both.
“So, you’re just going to show up to your mom’s house like it’s nothing?”
“Yep.” Both Danny and Nicki stopped in their tracks, looking at me with this peculiar look on their face. “What?”
“Are you going to tell Milo?” Nicki asked. I haven’t physically heard Milo’s name in almost a year, so hearing it now sounds foreign to my ears.
“Why would I tell him?”
“Pep,” Nicki sighed as she said. “You do realize that we are also friends with Milo, right?”
“And what does that have to do with me?” I asked, crossing my arms along my chest.
“We also know Milo is still close with your family. His son is still really close to your sister.” I wasn’t surprised to hear that Milo’s son was still good friends with my youngest sister, Mollie; it was the fact that he was still so close to them, as if he was unofficially declared a member of our family or something.
“What Milo chooses to do with his son has nothing to do with me,” I dismissed, walking away from the couple toward the parking lot exit.
“Pep,” I hear Danny call out. I don’t turn around until I hear Nicki yelling my name now.
“Pep, are you serious?”
“Did you forget how Milo and I even stopped being friends?” I spat out, turning around to face the couple. “He said horrible things about my relationship with Cullen–“
“After you said horrible things about his relationship with Marielle,” Nicki spat back.
“Are you serious taking his side right now?”
“Pep,” Nicki said, crossing her arms along her chest. “We are not in high school anymore. We are too grown to be taking sides. I love you both, but Danny and I have more important things going on in our lives than to pick sides on something that was equally both of your fault.” I knew Nicki was right. I remember that day like it was yesterday. Sure, Milo and I have gotten into heated arguments before, but this one felt different. This one felt tiresome, and deep rooting all the way back to the beginning of our friendship. Friendship.
I sighed, keeping my stoic composure. “To answer your question; no, I am not telling Milo I’m back in New York.”
…
“Yes, we’ll be there tomorrow morning; thank you so much for reaching out to us,” I heard Nicki say in the other room over the phone. Danny, Milo, and I sat at their kitchen table awkwardly. No one said a word, and Danny knew better and not have us engage in conversation without Nicki’s supervision. Nicki walked back into the kitchen after her phone call, sitting next to Danny before letting out a deep breath. “Sorry that we have to cut this night short, but our OBGYN has an opening for us tomorrow that we can’t miss.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked, worried something was wrong with their baby.
“Everything’s fine, it’s just that this pregnancy has been high-risk for me, and they want to make sure that everything is going along alright.” I knew that Nicki’s pregnancy wasn’t easy for her since the moment she told she they were expecting. Knowing how hard they both have been trying to conceive since getting married, they moved extremely cautious to make sure everything was alright this time.
“Take it easy, Nic,” Milo said, getting up from his chair. “I should get going anyway; I have to pick up Milo to get him ready for school tomorrow.”
“What time is your appointment?” I asked Nicki.
“8 in the morning.” Fuck. I was supposed to be staying the night at Nicki’s and have them drive me back to Brooklyn in the morning for my dance class. I guess that suggestion is out the window.
“I’ll start getting ready to head on back to Brooklyn—”
“How? You don’t drive.” I looked at Nicki, not amused that she called me out.
“There’s something I discovered long ago called public transportation,” I said sarcastically. It made Danny snicker before Nicki gave him the evil eye.
“You’re not taking the train at this hour, Pep.” I turned around and heard Milo speak to me for the first time in over a year. “I’ll take you back to Brooklyn.”
“Why would I do that?” I spat back, crossing my arms.
“We’re both heading in the same direction.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“I’m not offering the ride, I’m telling you that I will drive you back to Brooklyn.”
“Pep, just take the fucking ride,” Nicki intervened, sighing as she stood in between Milo and I. “You’re not going to get a train at this hour anyway—”
“Fine, I’ll just walk back to Brooklyn,” I said, grabbing my things from the side table in the front hallway. I felt someone grab my shoulder and forced me to turn back around; it was Nicki, and she was visibly furious.
“Pep, I don’t give a shit about your past with Milo; I care more about your wellbeing and if I’m telling you to take the ride back to Brooklyn with Milo, I’m telling you to take the fucking ride back to Brooklyn with Milo.” She grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, which surprises both the guys in the hallway with us. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes,” I quickly answered. She let go of my collar, and stared directly at me. “Seems like you got the disciplinary mom part down packed.”
“Thank you,” Nicki said as she smiled. Pregnant Nicki would eat 1st grade bully Nicki for breakfast.
…
Milo and I didn’t talk much on the ride back to the city. I sat in the passenger’s seat as he drove, the radio playing music on low volume. I did not expect that one of the first things I would do while being back in New York was to be in the same car was Milo, let alone have him drive me home.
At a red light, Milo grabs his phone from the dashboard and starts texting someone. I looked at him, rolling my eyes as he’s probably texting his girlfriend or something.
“You’re gonna get a ticket,” I said out loud, not looking at Milo.
“We’re at a red light—”
“But the car is still on,” I finally turned around to look at Milo. His hair was longer than I remembered. Last year, he wasn’t even able to tie it up in a ponytail to get it out of his face. Now, his hair sits comfortably in one, hanging down his back. He also barely had any facial hair the last time I saw him too; now, he has something going on with his face.
Milo put his phone down and continued to drive, not adding anything to the conversation. I turned my head to face the window, wishing for this ride back to Brooklyn could go by faster.
“Are you back at your mom’s place?” Milo asked.
I turned around, annoyed now. “What makes you think I’m living at my mom’s house?”
“Pep, I’m just asking a ques–“
“Do not call me that,” I emphasized, pointing my finger at him. At another red light, Milo turns his head to face me again to speak.
“Do you think I want to be in this car with you, driving in heavy traffic back to Brooklyn after everything we went through?”
“Fine.” I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the passenger door, walking out onto the sidewalk.
“Pep–“
“Go!”
“Are you fucking crazy?! I’m not leaving you on the side of the road at 12:30 in the morning!”
“No! I’m walking home from here!” Milo stopped the car and got out of the driver’s side, now facing in my direction.
“Pep, I swear to God if you don’t get back into this car, I will personally put you back in it myself!” I stared at Milo, knowing that he didn’t really mean it. But, this is a version of Milo that I haven’t known for the last year and a half. I sighed and walked back to the car, entering it without saying a word.
The rest of the ride was quiet; we both didn’t even bother saying a word to each other. Growing up, you couldn’t get us to shut up on car rides. My mom used to take Milo and me to the amusement park as kids during the summer. We would talk about anything and everything that crossed our minds. It stings to sit here with Milo with nothing to say.
We finally got back to my mom’s house, and Milo parked the car in front of it. We just sat there for a moment before he sighed.
“Do you want to go in first?” he asked. I didn’t say anything else, I just got out of the car, never looking back at Milo. Pretending he doesn’t exist in my world anymore.
Letters From Liz. 