Despite all the rejections, I continued to write. I just kept trying. I did everything to keep my spirits up. I exercised. I listened to happy music. I went to the library daily, to read and to write, till closing. I dissected the stories I admired and studied the science, the rhythm and cadence of language. And I began to write a short story about love. In my previous life, if I worked hard at something, I get what I wanted. If I put my mind to getting an A, I get an A. If I compete, I win. If I applied for a job, well, I didn't get every job, but my odds were pretty good. I received the consulting job offer half a year before I graduated. So life had a certain level of predictability to it, and I developed a confidence in my own abilities. But writing seemed like an enigma, I didn't get why I was working so hard, yet I was still getting nowhere. But I thought if I would just keep calm and carry on, everything will be okay.
On New Year's Eve, Matt hosted a party at his place downtown. He had just returned from Brazil in mid-December. We were so happy to be reunited I brought a gym bag of clothes and practically moved into his condo. For his most epic house party of the year, I decided to wear a salmon pink ruched dress that draped instead of clung.
When people started arriving, Matt immediately set to work, like a good host, mixing drinks for everyone. I made conversation with the wives of his coworkers or friends. But for reasons I couldn't name or explain, I didn't really want to be there. I didn't at all feel like celebrating. Nor did I feel like the hostess of the house. I felt like a guest, who didn't arrive with any friends of her own.
There was one time, shortly after Matt and I started going out, he invited me to a pub to meet his buddies. I brought my friend Amy along. It was my first time meeting his friends, so I wanted to make a good impression. I put on a black dress and black heels and my most friendly smile. As Matt was introducing us around the table, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and perhaps because of the murky light in the pub, the person staring back looked unfamiliarly beautiful. I remember thinking, wow, is that me? Am I that pretty? Soon we were all drinking and chatting away like good friends.
Then Matt's phone rang.
It was a friend asking for directions on how to get here.
When that friend arrived, Matt went outside to get her. Her name is Dolores. She's a lawyer in her twenties. She has smooth, pale skin. She told me she was going through a rough patch with her long-term boyfriend. I liked her. After a few drinks, we all went dancing on the dance floor, while Matt stayed behind with Dolores at the booth. Amy and I toured the pub from one floor to the next, dancing together, hair flying everywhere, straight and wavy, spinning happily around. We thought Matt would join us shortly, but he didn't show up for almost an hour. His friend's girlfriend frowned at this and said to me at the bar, "Matt shouldn't be spending this much time with that Dolores girl. He should be spending time with you. I'll pull him aside and have a chat with him."
Until she made this remark, it hadn't occurred to me that he was giving Dolores more attention than he was giving me, and being his girlfriend, I should be offended or jealous over this. I wasn't though. I did wish he would join us on the dance floor but thought he was just keeping his friend company and didn't want her to feel lonely.
Later on in the evening, Matt did dance with us and we had a great time. Somewhere along the way, my shoe got caught between the steps, and I toppled forward. Matt, like a gentleman, caught me in his arms, then knelt to put my shoe back on. Woozy from the alcohol and enamoured by the new romance, I felt deliriously happy and safe being with him.
After the pub, we all went to eat Chinese food at his friend's restaurant. In the washroom, my friend Amy looked at me in the mirror and said cautiously, "Don't think too much of this, but his friend John told me this and I feel like I should tell you. John said he thinks Dolores has a crush on Matt. He saw the way she was looking at him. It was the same way Matt was looking at you. But don't worry about it, because Matt wasn't looking at Dolores in that way."
"Really?" This was all news to me. "What way is that?"
"I don't know. Like 'I'm attracted to you' way."
"I didn't notice Dolores looking at Matt in anyway strange," I said in puzzlement.
"I can't tell either," Amy agreed, "Maybe because John is a guy and he could tell Matt's looking at people differently."
I didn't feel threatened by Dolores though. I actually liked her. This crush she has on Matt, I didn't notice it at all. And I didn't really care. I was certain of Matt's feelings for me.
We walked out of the bathroom, and out of curiosity more than anything else, I began to pay attention to the way Matt was looking at people. But by then Dolores had already left.
Tonight, six months later, I see Dolores again. In a tight black cocktail dress looking like she had just come from the set of Sex and the City. She isn't what I would call a traditional beauty, but she is radiant this evening. And that always makes a girl attractive. Again her boyfriend is nowhere to be found. Not even on the all-important New Year's Eve. I wanted to pay attention to her this time, to see how she was looking at Matt. As I stole glances at her throughout the night, I didn't notice her flirting with Matt. All I saw was Matt playing drinking games with her, rather emphatically, then drinking out of her shot glass.
Just then, a bunch of girls rushed in. I recognized one of them is Matt's neighbor. Once, she knocked on his door, and was startled to find that I answered. She said she was clearing out her fridge and had some leftover beer so she wanted to give them to Matt. A few weeks later, Matt left some pop by her door. Then on a random Friday night, around 10:30pm, we heard a knock on the door. I answered. Before I had a chance to speak, three half-drunk girls barged in uninvited. It was the neighbor and two of her girlfriends: a pharmacist, and a doctor. "Is Matt home?" They asked. I stood there staring at them with my mouth agape, thinking, 'Why are these girls banging on my boyfriend's door, at this hour, on a Friday? Do they not see I'm the girlfriend?' The neighbor, noticing the ridiculousness of the situation, pulled her friends back out.
So I was surprised to see them, yet again, at his New Year's party.