After my dad was discharged, I returned to New York alone.
While Gabriel was still away, I went to the apartment we shared. I packed up my clothes, my books, every trace of my existence, and moved back
into my old dorm room on campus.
A few days later, Gabriel finally noticed. His call came late at night.
“Gotten brave, have we?” he said, his voice laced with condescending amusement. “Running away from home without a word.”
“That’s not my home.”
My cold tone must have registered, because he tried to soften his. “Vivi, come on, don’t be like this. I just got back. I haven’t even eaten. Come
home and make me some noodles?”
www.w
His work schedule was erratic, and he often came home late and starving. He’d developed stomach problems because of it, so I had gotten into the habit of waiting up for him. No matter how late, there was always a bowl of hot noodles waiting.
“It’s not my home anymore, I repeated.
There was a pause. “Why can’t you be more gentle, like your cousin?”
I laughed, a dry, humorless sound, and hung up the phone. I was just a stand–in. How could I ever compare to the real thing?
A few days later, I got a call from Professor Davies, my faculty advisor. She told me there was a problem with the student life coordinator position
she had recommended me for.
“I don’t know who would do this,” she said, her voice troubled, “but someone sent an anonymous email to the dean’s office. It’s an official complai- nt, accusing you of ‘moral misconduct‘ and claiming you’re unfit for the role.
When I pressed her for details, she hesitated. “The letter… it says your cousin is pregnant, and that you’ve been trying to seduce her partner. Vivi, it‘ s not that I don’t believe in you, but for this to come out right before the deadline… have you made an enemy of
some?”
The air left my lungs. My heart felt like a block of ice.
Cora was pregnant, that much was true. And Gabriel would never step up to clarify that he was my boyfriend. A degree from a state college like mine didn’t make finding a good job easy. I’d fought tooth and nail for this campus position, pushing my GPA to the top of my major, doing endless
grunt work for the department.
And now it was all about to be destroyed by a single, anonymous letter. I couldn’t accept it.
Professor Davies suggested I gather all my academic awards and commendations and submit them as a
today.
I raced over to Gabriel’s apartment to retrieve the certificates I’d left there.
But my fingerprint wouldn’t open the door. The keypad code had been changed, too.
I called Gabriel. Again and again. More than a dozen times, each one going straight to voicemail.
Half an hour later, he finally called back.
