The Key

Logan grabbed his key from the pocket of his black dress pants and slowly unlocked the door. It clicked open, and he pushed the door ajar inch by inch, wincing at the creaking sound it emitted every few seconds. He tiptoed inside and closed the door with even slower movements. His efforts at subtlety were futile, however, as his girlfriend Meghan woke up every time he came home late. Logan started to think that she was really up waiting for him to come home, and just pretended to be asleep when he got there for dramatic effect. The bedroom light turned on, illuminating the door frame that stood across from the entrance to the apartment, and Logan flung his head back in defeat. 

Meghan walked out of the bedroom door and greeted Logan with a kiss on the cheek. She wore a pink, silk pajama set which loosely covered her skinny body. Her blonde hair was braided neatly behind her head, with only a few strands sticking out in the front. To Logan, this detail served as evidence supporting his theory of Meghan’s faux slumber. He pondered the thought while Meghan joked that she caught him sneaking in again. The two sat down on their living room couch, which was next to their bedroom door. 

“They really have you working overtime, babe,” Meghan said while stroking his back. “I miss spending my nights with you.” 

“I know, babe, me too,” Logan said. “You know how it is. They overwork the young guys, it’s like a rite of passage. I should start getting more free time soon, don’t worry.” He kissed her on the forehead and the pair headed to their bedroom. In their queen bed, Meghan started to cuddle Logan and kiss his neck. Logan kissed her forehead again and turned away from her, embracing his pillow. “Goodnight.” 

Logan woke up at six in the morning, just as he did every weekday, and made it to Christopher Street Station by seven. Logan always spent the six-minute subway ride listening to instrumental piano music with his eyes closed. He sat between two other young white businessmen, clutched his briefcase closely to his chest, and hoped for the subway to be delayed, or for a fire to ignite in his office building, or for a rogue homeless man to stab him in the leg. Though, as he tapped his foot along to the calm piano melody, he knew very well that in any of those events he would still have to make it to work that day. He arrived at Chamber Street and from there embarked on his familiar walk to 200 West Street: Goldman Sachs Headquarters. 

It was Logan’s third year working there as a financial advisor, but he had been familiar with the building since he was a child. His father, Dennis Fleming, was the CFO of the company, and Logan knew from an early age that he had his whole life laid out for him. He had gone to boarding school at Phillips Academy for high school and was an average student and the captain of his lacrosse team. It was there that Logan met Meghan Humphrey, an attractive cheerleader, and it made sense for them to fall in love, so he tried to. Logan went on to play lacrosse at Boston College, and Meghan chose to attend Boston University to be close to him. The pair moved to West Village promptly after graduation in an apartment paid for by Dennis Fleming, and it was expected that they would lead normal, privileged lives together. 

Logan spent most of the day at the office daydreaming about a life with no expectations and no Meghan, but the occasional sight of his father chipped away at the little hope he had left. He still savored those secret dreams, scared that letting go of them would mean losing himself. He sat in front of his computer, played around with random Excel spreadsheets and attended a couple of meetings, and left the office at seven p.m. He walked back to Chamber Street Station, but instead of going home, he took the PATH to Hoboken. 

Despite having his own key to the home in his pocket, Logan knocked on the stained wooden door in front of him. Jacob opened the door smiling, and welcomed Logan inside before closing it. Jacob wore a ragged hoodie and Levi jeans too large on his skinny frame, with striped socks and no shoes. His long, dark brown hair was messy and pieces of it stood wayward per usual. Logan chuckled at the sight and came closer to Jacob, ran his fingers sideways through Jacob’s soft messy hair for a few seconds, then said “much better.” Jacob smiled and planted a kiss on Logan’s lips to say hello. 

Jacob’s studio apartment was dimly lit in the autumn nighttime, as the natural light from the one large window opposite the entrance had expired hours before. The entrance opened to the small kitchen area on the left, which sported stained wooden cabinets and a stove that did not work. To the right was Jacob’s full twin bed with a striped blue comforter, two blue pillows, and no bedside table. A single gray couch stood below the large window, serving as the seating area for the lopsided coffee table in front of it. Posters of old bands that Logan never listened to decorated the wall above the bed, and books that Logan never read stacked lazily on top of one another on the floor next to the bed. 

Jacob retrieved two beers from his unlit fridge and sat down on the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. Logan placed the frozen yogurt on the kitchen counter, took off his jacket and shoes, and joined Jacob on the couch. Logan put his feet up as well, and sighed with relief before taking his first sip of beer. He looked at Jacob’s brown eyes and smiled to himself, then put his arm around Jacob and rested his head on his shoulder and closed his eyes, still smiling. Jacob played with Logan’s hair, but he did not smile. They remained this way for several moments, and Logan savored the safety and comfort he felt with Jacob. With his eyes closed, he imagined that the world outside of that apartment was gone, and that he and Jacob were the only people in existence, and he decided that he would be content remaining that way forever. 

Jacob then took his feet off the coffee table and sat up, prompting Logan to follow suit with a confused expression. Logan looked at Jacob, who looked down with furrowed brows. 

“What’s wrong?” Logan asked, and he took hold of Jacob’s hand.

“You know what’s wrong,” replied Jacob. “When are you gonna stop acting like this is okay? You told me things would change, but I’m not seeing it.”

“Jake, I’ve been here almost every night for the past two months. I give you all my free time. I barely even see her anymore, and I like it better this way. Don’t you?”

“Of course I like it better this way. You know I want to spend every minute of every day with you. The difference is, I’d actually be willing to. Yeah, you’ve been coming here more often, but you still live with her.” Jacob pulled his hand out of Logan’s grasp. “You told me a year ago that you’d figure this out. I don’t know if I believe that anymore.” 

Logan looked down. “You know it’s not that easy.”

“I know, that’s why I’ve been patient. But I have a fucking life to live, and I deserve to know if you’re gonna be in it, or if you’ll only be here when it’s convenient. And you know who else has a life to live? Meghan Humphrey. I don’t know the girl, but I do know that she deserves the same certainty. I love you, and I’ve waited for you, and I want to be with you. But I can’t wait forever. I need someone who can give me their whole heart, not just the hidden parts of it.” 

His words lingered in the air as Logan grappled to make sense of them. Usually, Logan could diffuse conversations like these with empty promises and fake confidence. But that day, he knew from Jacob’s tone that a resolution was imminent. Logan chewed on his thumb nail for a few seconds in the silence before breaking it. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Jacob said, looking into Logan’s eyes with a pained expression. Logan looked down again, and Jacob continued. “I can’t deal with this anymore. It’s not fair.”

“I know.”

“The poor girl thinks she’s gonna marry you.” Jacob paused for a moment and choked back tears. “Either end it with her tonight, or we’re done. Don’t come back tomorrow if you aren’t ready to be with me.” 

Logan wanted to argue, to plead for more time, but he knew he could not escape this. He buried his face in his hands and sighed loudly. “Okay. Okay, I’ll figure this out.” The pair embraced on the firm couch and rested their heads on each others' shoulders. Both of the men cried. 

“I’m going to bed,” Jacob said, his head still buried between Logan’s shoulder and neck. They pulled away and wiped their eyes, stood up, and walked toward the door. Logan lazily put his shoes and jacket back on as Jacob watched. Logan hugged Jacob again and gave him a kiss. 

“I love you,” Logan said. Jacob mustered a smile and another tear streamed down his unshaven face. Logan exited, heard the echo of the door closing behind him, and walked slowly back to the PATH station with piano music playing in his headphones. 

Sitting in a window seat on the way, Logan called his father. The phone rang three times, and Logan began to believe he got lucky and called at an inconvenient time. The ringing stopped, and no words came through from the other end, though Logan could hear light noise in the background. “Hi, Dad,” Logan said softly.

“Is something wrong?” Dennis responded abruptly. 

“No, I don’t think so,” Logan said. He paused for a moment and rested his head against the train window, looking down to avoid making eye contact with his reflection. “I have a big decision to make. I don’t know what to do.” Logan clenched his jaw and waited.

“That’s cryptic. I assume I don’t want to know more.” 

Logan shifted in his seat and sat up. “I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m getting another call. Bye, dad,” Logan went to hang up the phone.

“Wait,” Dennis stopped him. “Just listen to me for a moment. Whatever you do, keep your family in mind. Remember what I’ve told you: we share the same name.”

Logan took a deep breath in, exhaled, and shook his head slightly. “Yup. Thanks, dad.” He hung up and resumed listening to piano music.

Logan had texted Meghan that he was getting home a couple hours early that night, and by the time he got back she had takeout from his favorite Italian restaurant laid out on their dining room table for them. “I thought we’d have a late dinner, since you’re finally home before midnight,” she told him with a cheery smile before planting a kiss on his cheek. Logan thanked her and they sat down to eat. 

Logan used a metal fork to play with his fettuccine alfredo while Meghan described the shopping trip she took in Soho that day with her friends. Logan hardly listened, but nodded along and offered short responses when he deemed it appropriate. He had not eaten dinner, but he could not bring himself to stomach even a spoonful of his favorite dish. 

Meghan went to the bathroom, and Logan sat alone at the glass table, thinking. He felt his heart banging against his chest, and he tried to control his breathing with counts of four – a trick Jacob taught him when they met back in college, meant to soothe anxiety. Logan looked around the apartment, taking in the glistening white kitchen cabinets and the chandelier in the living room, the forty-inch television they barely used, and the ostentatious decor that Meghan picked out three years prior. Among all this abundance, in the company of someone who loved him with her whole heart, Logan felt empty. He thought, as he often did, about the empty path laid out in front of him. But this time, his future felt within control, not like some intangible far-off thing. He felt the weight of it well up in him, taking over his body, and he felt heavier and heavier until he was convinced he could not leave his chair even if he tried. 

He reached into his pants pocket and let his fingers play with the copper key that hid inside. He twirled it around in his sweaty palm and felt its coolness press against his skin. His breathing slowed as he thought of Jacob, and pictured a life in his crappy studio apartment. He thought back to the first day they met, when they were partnered together for an economics assignment during their junior year of college. Logan chuckled at how fearful he was back then, when he first realized he found someone he could not hide from. He then imagined the following day, the relief that their reunion would shower unto both of them. He felt light and whole. Logan took a deep breath and waited for Meghan to return. 

When she did, she emerged from the bathroom beaming. She sat down again and rested her head on her hands, smiling at Logan. Logan was slightly puzzled by her demeanor but remained determined. With one hand still in his pocket, he opened his mouth to speak, but Meghan interrupted his thought with a sudden gesture. She reached into her waistband and pulled something out, and slid it across the table to Logan. 

Logan looked at what lay on the table and froze. His heartbeat quickly sped back up as he inspected the artifact. There were two lines on the screen, denoted by the writing next to it to mean, unmistakably, “pregnant.” 

“I’m pregnant!” Meghan exclaimed. “I’ve been feeling nauseous for weeks, but I ignored it since I’m on the pill. But today my girlfriends told me to check, so I did, and well… I’m pregnant!”

Logan looked up at her, saw the magnetic smile painted on her face, and feigned one of his own. “Wow,” he said. “I did not expect that.” 

“I know! Me neither! I must be at least two months along, since, you know, it’s been a while. Thank God I don’t drink. This is great, babe. We always knew we wanted a family, it’s just coming a little sooner than we planned. Young parents are cooler anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah. I agree, for sure,” Logan said. His chest ached and his hand remained in his pocket, gripping the key so tightly it impressed indents into his palm.

“The only bad part is we have to rush wedding planning. We need to be married before we have a kid, of course.” 

Logan looked at her, his eyes welling with tears. A forced half-smile remained crooked on his face, and his grip on the key loosened. “Of course,” he replied. He blinked and a tear escaped his eye and raced down his face. “Wow,” he said again.

“I know, I’m overwhelmed too. This is so exciting! Don’t worry, I know you’re bad with jewelry, so I already started looking at rings. I’ll text you the ones I like.”

“Right. Great, thanks,” Logan said. Meghan looked at him as if expecting him to say more. “It’s about time anyway, I suppose,” he let out with a fake chuckle. 

“My thoughts exactly,” Meghan agreed. Her smile had not wavered. She let out a squeal of excitement and scurried over to Logan, planted herself on his lap and threw her arms around him. Logan wrapped one arm around her waist, and let his other hand linger in his pocket for a moment longer before taking it out and using the hand to stroke her hair. He continued to cry as they embraced.

Later that night, Logan locked himself in the bathroom, sat on top of the toilet seat and cried until his eyes swelled red and his throat felt coarse. He picked up his phone, dialed Jacob’s number, and called. The phone rang twice before Jacob picked up without saying a word, though Logan could hear his heavy breathing. Unbeknownst to one another, the two men both tried to control their breath with counts of four. Each passing second felt like eternity as Logan listened to the harmony of their breathing.

“I’m so sorry,” Logan began with a cracked voice. “Meghan just told me-”

The phone beeped and the line went silent. Logan cried more, pulled his legs into his chest and buried his raw face in his knees. His arms were wrapped so tightly around his legs that he could barely breathe with the weight of them crushing against his torso. No matter how much he contorted his body into a ball, he still wanted to feel smaller. He would have killed at that moment for the opportunity to shrink into a tiny pebble and flush himself down the drain, to escape the imprisonment of that multimillion dollar apartment and find refuge in the sewage system of New York City. 

Logan pulled himself together in a final display of hope, and dialed Jacob’s number once more. The call did not go through.