His silence, though, had stung. I’d wanted him to get down on his knees, declare his adoration, say all of the things that I needed to hear. Instead he’d just stood there. Maybe he didn’t feel the way I wanted him to, and I guess it was time to accept that. But even though his reaction hurt, I’d done exactly what I wanted to do, and I felt absolutely at peace with all of it. It didn’t mean I wasn’t still desperately sad without him, and his shockingly funny jokes and his adorable dorkiness and the way he kissed my neck in the dark like it was something to be cherished, and not just a weird blob of skin that connected my body to my head. I missed everything about him. But I also knew that I was going to be okay. And knowing that felt good.
At six, I knew there was no way I’d be able to fall back asleep. So I threw on some leggings, a sports bra, and a giant NYU sweatshirt that very clearly had a coffee stain on the front and should have gone into the laundry instead of on my body. I grabbed a ten-dollar bill, my sunglasses, and my key, slapped some sunscreen on my face and a hat on my head, and went out to walk. It was brisk and cool, and the sun was still rising. I didn’t have my phone to guide me; I’d left it at home so I could fully clear my head: no music, no texts to friends, no GPS. Just me.
But after an hour and a half taking step after step after step, something became obvious: All this clearheadedness and honesty and expressing myself had made me very, very hungry.
I’d ended up in Carroll Gardens, and I found my way to a bagel shop I’d never been to before. I grabbed an everything bagel and a coffee and sat down in the small seating area. In the corner was a dad making faces at his giggling toddler, and across from me sat an old couple munching on bialys. Overhead, a TV was playing commercials, the volume low. I chewed slowly and watched; it felt strange not to have my phone to stare at for once. Suddenly, NYN’s morning show was on the screen, and my old friends Pete and Jenna. My TV appearance felt so long ago now I almost couldn’t believe that it had happened. But I still remembered it all in detail, from the sound of my dress ripping to the first time my eyes had connected with his, to the way his leg had felt when I’d nervously kicked it under the table on our on-air coffee date. And now our lives were intrinsically connected, because of one small moment that had set off a chain of events like fireworks.
I was so focused on my memories that it took me a second to realize that Hayes was now on the screen above me. Hayes.
“Excuse me!” I shouted to the teenager working behind the counter. “Can you turn up the TV, please?”
She slid a remote across the counter, and I reached for it, pressing the volume button until Pete’s voice was clear.
“—former guest who you maybe remember from a viral moment last spring, when he stepped in to help a woman whose dress had ripped on the subway.”
Hayes smiled at this, and a full-screen shot of us sitting next to each other during that interview appeared.
“That’s me!” I said out loud, without thinking. Everyone turned to look.
“Really?” said the older man, adjusting his cap as if that would help him see better.
“Yes,” I said, a little defensively. “I just had a lot of makeup on there. And no hat.”
“Hayes,” continued Jenna. “You reached out to our producer last night, asking for some help, and lucky for you, we’d had a cancellation and could squeeze you on this morning. So tell us what you need from our audience.”
He cleared his throat, and I noticed that his hands were clenched in his lap. He looked nervous, like a little kid in a spelling bee, and my heart ached for him.
“Well, that woman you mentioned, Franny, who I met on the train…，” he started. “We actually hit it off. And last night, she told me she loved me.”
“How exciting!” Jenna clenched her hands into fists and cheered. Cheered.
“Well, honestly, as she knows, I often get a little tongue-tied. And so I didn’t get the chance to tell her how I felt.”
“Which is?” Pete said, egging him on with a wave of his hand.
“Well, I’m in love with her,” he said.
I clasped my hands to my face. Behind me, the teenager at the counter said, “Wait, is he talking about you?”
Hayes kept going. “And I should have told her the second I figured it out, but you know how it is when your brain takes a while to catch up with your heart.”
Jenna swooned over this. Even Pete’s face went soft with a goofy smile.
“So, anyway, when she told me last night, I froze,” he continued. “And so that’s why I reached out to your producer, Eliza. We were brought together on your show once before, so I’m hoping maybe you can make that happen again. I guess I just figured, what better way to tell Franny that I love her than to tell the whole world.”