16. Annie

ANNIE

April 2023 - Annie is 27, Sam is 28

Sam's been back in New York City for three months and we hang out every single day. I don't know how I feel about it, but I will say that I don't completely hate it. We're friends who live together and nothing more.

I'm the first one awake this morning, after we both fell asleep after watching all three Hunger Games movies last night. I stretch, trying to get the kink in my neck out that I got from sleeping on the couch. I look over at Sam, his mouth slightly open and his arm bent above his head. We somehow fell asleep on opposite ends of the couch, and both seemed to sleep mostly comfortably. Well mostly, but I definitely need to try harder to make it back to my bed tonight. I resist the urge to touch him as he takes another sleepy breath, but he looks so peaceful. He's finally stopped looking at me like something that's about to break, and I'm grateful for that. But that shouldn't make me want to touch him.

I sigh as I stand in the middle of the living room, watching him sleep. I wish he'd stop asking me when I'm going to quit my job.

I want to quit.

I want to quit so bad it hurts. Watching him sleep makes me want to quit even more.

We're acting like some sort of couple without all the physical stuff. I make most of our meals, but he always gets me a breakfast bagel after his morning run from the little stand that's around the corner—always a cheesy bagel, light on the cream cheese for me and a cinnamon bagel for him. I need something savory in the morning, and he needs his sugar. We hang out in the evenings on the days I don't work and he stays up late on the nights I do. I don't know how to feel about it—any of it. I turn away from him.

Quitting is what got me—us—here.

Or at least, trying to quit.

I haven't told anyone the full truth of what happened that night with Mitch. The night I ended things for the last time, I also tried to quit my job so I could live peacefully—or at least with more peace—knowing that I wouldn't have to see Mitch several times a week. But it made Mitch angry. He blamed me for all the stress he's been feeling with his new restaurant and told me that if I walked away as his head chef, he'd tell everyone in the food world here in New York not to hire me because I was a bad chef.

He threatened to ruin my reputation. Mitch is well known in the food scene here, so I believe him.

And while Mitch often filled my head with lies, it's hard not to believe him this time since he was yelling and screaming and hitting me as he threatened to ruin me.

I'm out of the relationship, but I can't quit my job. While Mitch has been amicable the past few months, I still get tense every time I see him. My brother would probably kill me if he knew the truth—that I didn't actually report Mitch because I didn't want to make things worse and because I need this job until I can somehow convince Mitch that it will be better for both of us to set me free.

I won't be able to get a new chef position in New York City if I leave Austen's. I don't want to leave the city. That will just mean that he won and he doesn't get to win this one. He doesn't get to take this city I love so much from me.

Sam sighs in his sleep, bringing me back to the present moment. I look at his perfect eyelashes. Why is it that men always seem to get good eyelashes that are long and beautiful while mine are pretty much non-existent unless I wear mascara?

Because I don't want Sam to catch me watching him sleep, I force myself to move and start the day. I'm in the kitchen when he comes up behind me.

"I have to leave next week." His words are quiet like he doesn't want to say them but he has to.

"I know." We haven't explicitly talked about it, but I've heard him talking on the phone with his manager and I knew that this day was coming. You can't just leave your job to drop everything and hang out with your best friend"s younger sister. I knew he'd have to leave again. Traveling is his job, it's his life. And I won't keep him from that.

"I've got two more short trips and then I can take a break for a while," he tells me. "I've been planning a few months-long break anyway, but now that I took some of those months right now, I can only take a couple at the end of the year."

"Will your subscribers mind?" I ask.

Something shifts on his face. "Well, we'll spread out some of the content like I have been doing, posting only two or three videos a week instead of five or six."

"That's so much content." I mean, I've watched his channel for years, but I forget that this is his life, making and editing all this content, all the time.

"It's a lot."

"Do you still love it?" I ask. When he first started, you could tell he was excited about traveling and sharing his adventures with the online world. It's funny to me how many people in the comments think they know him from watching his videos, but the videos only tell part of his story. He does have an adventurous side, sure. But that's not the word I would use to describe him.

"Mhm," he answers, but he won't look at me. Why is it so hard for him to tell me the truth?

"I'll be fine while you're gone," I say. "I'll be living here still if that's alright."

"Of course," he replies. "Stay as long as you need."

"Thank you." I move over to him and wrap my arms around him, something that feels almost normal for us. Slowly, as if he had to think about it, he puts his arms around me.

"And you'll quit?" he asks.

I give him a small nod. "I'll try."