Together

Cory double-checked his watch for the third time in as many minutes. The hands hovered around 5:30PM, and Cory took a deep breath to calm his nerves. It was useless to keep checking – Amanda always showed up 15 minutes after their scheduled meeting time, so he still had 45 minutes to go. But tonight was the night, and it had to be absolutely perfect. He’d scrubbed the kitchen, decorated the table with her favorite magnolias, even bought the tapered candles he hated that reminded him of stuffy childhood dinners with his parents. The marinara sauce he’d made the night he’d first suspected Amanda might be the one simmered lazily on the stove. He’d even gotten Taylor to make a dinosaur-shaped ring box, in homage to the spoon rest he’d bought to convince Amanda to go out with him the first time he’d ever seen her making silly faces at the children in front of her booth at the farmer’s market. That spoon rest sat proudly on his counter now.

Cory tasted his sauce again and smiled in satisfaction. Now he just needed to prep the salad, boil the homemade gnocchi once Amanda arrived, and change. He pulled his cell phone out of his apron pocket – and his stomach clenched in fear. Amanda had called him 3 times. She hated talking on the phone.

How could I have missed this? Cory berated himself, his mind automatically turning over worst-case scenarios. But before he could call her back, the doorbell rang. Cory rushed over and was relieved to see Amanda standing outside through the glass window of his door.

His relief disappeared when he opened the door and Amanda came fully into focus. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes red and bleary from crying. Cory automatically pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, but she didn’t sink into him the way she always did. Her body remained stiff, her arms hanging tensely by her side. Cory pulled back in confusion.

“Baby? What’s wrong?”

Amanda looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears. “Cory, I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I want to break up.”

It felt like someone had dropped a brick into his stomach.

“Wh-what?” Cory managed to choke out, his fists clenching involuntarily to stop himself from fainting.

“I’m sorry,” Amanda said. Cory stared at her openmouthed. He knew she was standing there because the door was still open and the wind whipped across his face…but this couldn’t be real.           

“I know it’s Valentine’s Day, and I know it’s bad timing, but I just – this isn’t working, Cory. It hasn’t been working. And I don’t want to pretend it does anymore.”

“I don’t understand,” Cory said, his hands finding Amanda’s and clasping them together. “What do you mean it hasn’t been working? Tell me what’s wrong. Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

Amanda shook her head, her eyes filling up with tears. “It’s too late!”

"It’s not too late! It can’t be too late.” Cory grabbed the ring box from his pocket in desperation and thrust it at Amanda.

“I love you,” Cory said, hating the way his voice trembled. “It’s not too late. Amanda, you’re the one.”

“I’m sleeping with Mario.”

It was like being stabbed over and over and over again.

“You said Mario was just a friend,” Cory said. His voice was so steely it scared even him. “You swore he was like a brother.”

“He was just a friend!” Amanda insisted, the tears flowing freely now. “But I tried to talk to you about everything, and I couldn't get you to listen. I asked Mario for help and…” her voice trailed off.

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long has it been going on?”

Cory didn’t know what answer he was expecting. But Amanda’s soft whisper of “almost a year” nearly brought him to his knees.

“Cory, I…”

"You said you loved me.”

“I do love you,” Amanda said. “I’m just not in love with you.”

Cory opened his mouth to protest but was interrupted by the loud beep of a car horn. A silver car he didn’t recognize was in his driveway. He nearly asked Amanda who it was, but the guilt blanched on her face told him everything he needed to know.

“He drove you here.”

Amanda threw her arms around Cory’s neck. Her hair smelled like lavender, and Cory fought the temptation to bury his face in it.

"I’m sorry,” Amanda sniffled. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“Then how come it did?”

Cory stepped back and searched Amanda’s face for answers, but she gave none.

“I have to go.”

And just like that, she was gone, Cory’s unanswered question lingering in the air behind her. Cory watched her race down the driveway into the car – still staring long after he couldn’t see her anymore.

“Cory? What’s going on?”

Taylor stood over him, concern etched over her delicate features.

Groggily, Cory realized he was still in the doorway of their house. He didn’t remember falling asleep.

“What time is it?” Cory asked, rubbing his eyes.

 “Almost 10PM,” Taylor said. “What happened? I came in the back because I thought you and Amanda might still be going, but the plates were empty and…”

Her voice trailed off as her eyes lit upon the dinosaur-shaped ring box on the floor.

“Oh.”

"Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not sober,” Cory scoffed.

“Did you eat?”

Cory shook his head.

“Come on,” Taylor said, reaching out her hand to pull Cory up. It always surprised him how strong she was.

Cory felt another punch in his gut at all the decorations he’d laid out for Amanda. Taylor swiftly grabbed the candles and flowers and shoved them underneath the table before grabbing two cans of beer from the fridge and handing him one. Cory gulped it down, hoping for refreshment – but the cold liquid hardly tasted like anything.

“She’s been cheating on me with Mario. For a year.”

Taylor let out a low whistle and handed the beer she’d opened for herself to Cory, who took a grateful swig. It was Taylor who Cory had vented to when he’d first started worrying about how much time Amanda was spending with her new coworker. Taylor had made him realize he needed to trust Amanda if he was going to date her – still good advice, despite the circumstances.

“I’m so sorry, “ Taylor said. “How did you find out?”

Cory nursed his beer and told the story as Taylor moved easily around their kitchen. By the time he was done, she’d placed a plate of grilled cheese in front of him.

"I’m not hungry,” Cory said.

“You need to eat.”

“I’m eating beer.”

Taylor chuckled but didn’t budge. Cory rolled his eyes and took a bite of grilled cheese – and his eyes widened in appreciation.

“Damn, this is really good.”

 Taylor shrugged. “Grilled cheese is my comfort food.”

Cory scarfed the sandwich down in a matter of seconds, realizing only afterwards it was the first food he’d eaten all day. Taylor had offered him pancakes that morning, but he’d been too stressed to eat.

“So?”

 Taylor cocked her head to one side.

"You haven’t said anything about the breakup,” Cory explained.

“What am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know. Tell me it’s going to be OK?”

“Would that help?”

Cory smiled bitterly. “I guess not.”

“Was she right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Amanda said she tried to talk to you, and that you weren’t on the same page. Was she right?”

Cory opened his mouth to say no, but then closed it again. He hadn’t actually considered that. He turned the thought over as he moved to the fridge to grab another beer.

 “I mean, things weren’t amazing,” Cory admitted finally when he sat down again. “But that’s just how it goes, right? The honeymoon stage and all that, it ends eventually.”

“That’s what they say,” Taylor said noncommittally.

“I mean, she wanted to go more places and do more stuff…but we

had school, and work, and I just figured we’d get around to all of it eventually.”

“You trusted her not to be with Mario.”

Cory chuckled ironically. “You know, the funny thing is, before I proposed I ran through every possible scenario of answers in my head. But I never allowed myself to pick the one where she was cheating on me with Mario.”

“That’s probably good,” Taylor said. “Remember how stressed you were when you thought that?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t have proposed then.”

“Why did you?”

“What?”

“Why did you propose?”

“Because Amanda’s the one,” Cory said. “Well, I thought she was, anyway. Why else would I have proposed?”

“Because you thought that was what you were supposed to do?”

Cory couldn’t answer Taylor or meet her eyes, so he stared into his

beer instead. Ten hours ago, he would never have entertained such a notion. But now he felt like he had to question everything.

“Come on, we’re going for a drive.”

Before Cory could answer, Taylor had already left the kitchen and switched out the light, leaving Cory in the dark. Cory considered wallowing in his misery there for a brief moment – but instead, he followed her out to her car.

“Taylor, where are we going?”

They’d been driving for nearly 20 minutes in silence, after Cory had finally given up looking for a radio station that wasn’t playing love songs on Valentine’s Day.

Taylor didn’t answer him - she hadn’t even turned on Google Maps on her phone so he had no idea where they were going. But a few minutes later, she pulled into a parking lot with a large sign out front: Fairview Cemetery.

“I know I’m not feeling great, Taylor, but a cemetery seems like a

bit much,” Cory quipped.

Taylor ignored him and headed out of the car, leaving Cory to scramble after her.

The February air was cold and bracing, but Taylor didn’t seem to care at all. The moon illuminated their pathway a little, but Cory still stumbled on the twigs and leaves littering the path. Taylor avoided them smoothly, winding her way around rows of tombstones and never tripping on the small stone pathways that occasionally interrupted Cory’s boots. She had clearly been here before.

Finally, she stopped.

“This is a little creepy,” Cory remarked, staring at the tree they’d

stopped under.

“She liked willows,” Taylor said, and Cory realized with a start they were standing in front of the grave of someone Taylor knew. It was weathered but clean, clearly well-maintained unlike many of the tombstones they had passed. Cory focused his eyes on the words etched into the stone and read aloud.

“Carrie Roy, 1962-2002. Beloved wife to Don and mother of...”

“Taylor,” Taylor finished for him when Cory‘s voice trailed off. “May she rest in peace.”

Cory stared at Taylor in shock. Don had moved Taylor into their apartment a few years ago, but Taylor had never really spoken about her mother. He had just assumed there had been a bad divorce.

“I didn’t know your mother died.”

“I didn’t tell you,” Taylor said matter-of-factly. She pulled out a silver frame from her purse and a small red box of Valentine’s chocolates, setting both on top of the tombstone.

“May I?”

Taylor nodded, and Cory crouched down to peer at the photograph. There was Taylor, who couldn’t have been more than 10 years old, holding a small bouquet in a hospital room. Cory recognized Don, who still had all his hair then, in a suit, and next to him was a bald woman in a slinky white dress. She cradled a bouquet in her arms, and though her face was pale and sickly, even in the photograph her eyes sparkled with joy.

In the corner of the photograph, faded yellow numbers stood out. 2/14/1992. The same year Taylor’s mother had died.

“Cancer,” Taylor responded to Cory’s unspoken question. “She fought for a long time, but she didn’t make it in the end.”

“I’m so sorry,” Cory said, the words ringing hollowly in the cemetery air. “Is this your parents’ vow renewal?”

“Their wedding,” Taylor said, and Cory’s eyes snapped to hers in surprise. In the three years they’d lived together, Taylor had always called Valentine’s Day a silly Hallmark holiday. Cory had suspected there might be some pain in that bitterness - but never this.

“My mother never really believed in marriage,” Taylor continued. “They were together my whole life - but whenever my dad asked her to marry him, she always said no. She didn’t need a piece of paper to prove anything, and then once she got cancer, it made more sense financially for them to not be married. But he just kept asking.

When it became clear she wasn’t going to make it, Mom decided she really wanted to get married. I helped her with the proposal, the ring...she was so tired but so excited. And when I asked her what had changed her mind about marriage, she told me she felt the way she always did. But she also told me that she loved my father - and if she couldn’t give him the gift of growing old with him, she wanted to give him this.”

“That’s heavy for a kid.”

Taylor shrugged. “My mom had cancer. My whole childhood was heavy.”

Cory nodded, chastised. The only close family member he’d had pass was his beloved spaniel, Chester. That had been bad enough - he couldn’t imagine losing his mother.

“My dad loves Valentine’s Day, so Mom brought the priest and the photographer and we surprised him in her hospital room. She gave this great emotional speech...and Dad said no.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah,” Taylor said, chuckling. “He said he loved my mother so much, but she knew this wasn’t what she really wanted. And Mom said it was something he really wanted, and she wanted to give this to him. And they started getting into this little argument in the hotel room, and the photographer and the priest are staring at each other awkwardly, and I’m super stressed out because my parents are kind of fighting...and then the nurse who Mom had recruited as a witness just bursts out laughing. Not chuckles, either, but full-on belly laughs.”

“And we are all staring at her as she is practically falling on the floor with laughter. And finally, she stops and looks at Mom and Dad, and she says, ‘I’m so glad you two love each other so much you can fight about how you show that love.’”

Cory smiled. “That’s really sweet, actually.

“Yeah.”

“So did they get married?”

Taylor nodded. “Yeah. After that, Mom proposed again, and Dad said yes, and they got married. And Mom died 2 weeks later.”

There was a slight catch in Taylor’s throat. Cory looked at Taylor and found the moonlight glinting off a single tear that rolled down her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Cory said again, awkwardly patting her on the shoulder for a moment. “That’s a really nice memory of your parents though.”

“It’s one of my favorites,” Taylor said, smiling through her tears. “And it really changed my mind about marriage, too.”

“Yeah?”

“I had always thought marriage was just something to do, something legal - because my mom had always phrased it that way. It made me realize there are good reasons to get married. That sometimes, it’s the biggest expression of love.”

“You made the ring box for Amanda,” Cory said, finally giving voice the question that had been bothering him for a while now. “Did you think I was asking her for the right reasons?”

“No.”

Cory tamped down the anger he felt rising at the simple word.

“Why not?”

“You didn’t have that look men have when they’ve found the one.”

“So why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would you have listened to me?”

Cory thought for a moment. “If it was just about the look...I guess not. But then why are you telling me all this now?”

Taylor was quiet for a long moment.

“I’m not sure,” Taylor said finally, her voice softer now. “But I guess a big breakup - it’s not like dying, but it is losing someone. And when Mom died, I thought I’d never feel love again. But I did."

Taylor took a deep breath.

"I’ll never live in a world where Mom didn’t die right after

Valentine’s Day. But every year, it sucks a little less. And I wanted to make sure Amanda didn’t ruin it forever for you.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Cory said.

“I know. But I wish someone had done it for me.”

Cory suddenly felt overwhelmed - by his own pain, by the pain in Taylor’s voice, by how nice she was being to him when she absolutely didn’t have to be. He pulled Taylor into a tight embrace, and the two stood like that for a moment in the moonlight before Taylor pulled away. Cory pretended not to notice the way her tears had dampened his shirt.

“I’m going to sit here for a minute,” Taylor said. “You can go back to the car if you want.”

Cory thought for a moment about leaving her there - but he realized that he didn’t want to be alone just then. More importantly, he didn’t want to leave Taylor alone, staring at that photo.

So instead, he sat down in front of the tombstone, ignoring the cold ground on his jeans, and shook his head.

“Want to tell me about your mom?”

Taylor smiled and sat down next to him. And Cory knew somewhere deep down that her grieving heart was helping to heal him…but maybe, just maybe, he was helping her too.