Author's Note: This story is a fictional piece based on a few people I know in real life.
Katie and I were “friends” but were never really too close in college. Before we officially met in our junior year, I had always known of her as the pretty, popular Asian chick who hung out with the attractive, sporty white girls. She blended in with a pack of private school-bred, lacrosse-playing dirty blondes who’d romp across the autumn-colored campus in lululemon leggings, North Face parkas, and Hunter rainboots.
Most Asian female students I knew in Dartmouth wore straightened jet-black locks, impeccably coordinated outfits, and fake lashes, and they’d speak to each other in whispers and high-pitched laughs. However, with her sharp tongue and seemingly carefree manner, Katie was like a different species. Leaving her house with nothing more than slight eyeliner and a messy bun, she mostly wore gym clothes that gave the “I’m too cool to dress up” vibe, but at the same time showed off her slim and athletic build that turned the heads of handsome, preppy boys in every fraternity.
I, on the other hand, was always the studious one, an aspiring law student who had a kind and down-to-earth group of friends. Born and raised by humble immigrant Taiwanese parents in the suburbs of Philadelphia, I was constantly focusing on my grades over socializing, hoping to make my parents’ investment in my education worth it. My friends and I would drop by a party or two a week, but really, we’d prefer to stay in, watch movies, or have small gatherings with close friends.
Meanwhile, Katie was the meaning of a social butterfly. Word around town was that she had an extremely high IQ, so she never needed to study too hard to do well on an exam. On the average day, she’d hit the hottest events on campus, whether it’d be the Delta Upsilon fraternity mixer or the men’s basketball team’s celebration after a winning game. Her friend group and mine had been like oil and water before we met.
The first day Katie and I spoke was at Webster Café, the coffee shop at my favorite library at school. I had started working there in my sophomore year in college. It was a wise investment considering the café employees got free food and coffee, and previously I had spent most of my college dining dollars there, snacking away and pounding down espresso while writing papers late at night between book stacks. Some of my best memories were made at that café - I adored the smell of the grinding coffee beans and the screech of the milk frother as it swirled cappuccino foam. I loved the bustle of students grabbing their fix as I made their favorite caffeinated concoctions. The other café workers were also mostly students, and they were a cool bunch to be around. (It didn’t hurt that some of the boys were crazy good looking as well.)
It was September 2012, and I had been working at the coffee shop for several months when Katie came around to my side of the café’s counter. I was quite surprised that she was now working for Webster Café. Based on my bias towards the typical Dartmouth students with whom she hung around, it seemed like she’d be too upscale and proud to work at Webster. Although we baristas at the coffee shop were perceived as a hip and cute bunch, it sometimes felt like the students we served considered us “beneath” them. For example, there was one time the president of a sorority called me an idiot when I had accidentally made her skim latte with regular vanilla syrup instead of sugar-free. For some reason, I thought that Katie would want to associate herself with someone like this sorority girl rather than myself. Yet here she was, putting on an identical black apron to the one I was wearing.
Katie and I didn’t really talk to each other during the start of our first shift together – she was getting trained by the café supervisor on how to make a Flat White beverage while I was mindlessly taking coffee orders. It was a night shift, so there weren’t many customers. When no one was coming to the cash register, I decided to clean the table where we stocked our sugar, milk, and coffee dispensers. I suddenly heard someone say to me, “What’s up?” as I was wiping down the surface.
It was Katie right behind me –she had just finished her barista training. It seemed funny that she didn’t even say “Hi I’m Katie” or something...she just asked, “What’s up?” as if we were already friends. She then smiled confidently showing off her cute dimples, broke off a piece of a giant chocolate chip cookie and popped it into her mouth. “Oh my God, the food at this café is so good. I’m going to take home like three of these.”
“I know, right?” I responded, trying to be friendly, and surprised that she could snack on so many sweets while maintaining her super-slim figure. “I drink like six shots of espresso a day now that I work here.”
“That’s totally crazy, ha!” she laughed, wiping her hands clean as she finished her cookie. “What are you up to after this shift? Just one more hour to go!”
I paused. It was Thursday evening, or “thirsty Thursday” as the Dartmouth kids called it. A night when the average social student went out and got drunk, but all I had planned on doing was studying and hitting the hay. “I’ve got a big exam on Monday for my Public Law class, so I’m going to start cramming. What about you?”
Katie replied, “Oh man, that sucks. My buddy Jake on the football team is having this pregame I told him I’d check out...not sure why I’m going though, the football team is a bunch of loo-sers! And then who knows? Might end up at the Sig Phi or Delta Chi annex – I hang with those boys on the reg. There’s this one guy at Sig Phi I’m hooking up with – do you know Grant Colby? He’s absolutely gorgeous and owns two yachts at his family’s house at the Hamptons…I mean, what more can you ask for?”
I scoff. “Yeah, I know him…or I know of him.” Everyone knew that Grant was already being groomed to become Goldman Sachs’ next top trader, due to his brains, looks, and the fact that his dad was a head executive there. “I agree he’s not bad looking, but guys like him aren’t my type. I don’t go for Wall Street kids. Too intense and blue blood for me.”
Katie giggled. “Well I can’t say the same. I know that I’m marrying filthy rich when I’m 27 and retiring when I’m 35! That’s the game plan. I can’t settle for someone who isn’t a multi-millionaire by the time he’s, like, 30.”
Is this for real? Is she kidding? I thought to myself. I was so incredulous that I looked around to see if anyone else heard her. Still not sure whether she was being serious, I just laughed it off and started restocking the sugar. If she meant what she said, at least she’s being straightforward, I thought. Personally, money wasn’t one of my requirements in a potential boyfriend. However, most women at this school aimed to find a rich future husband but didn’t openly talk about it. At least one person wasn’t afraid to say it.
Over the next half hour of our shift, I got to know Katie a bit more. Katie Li was an Economics major who wanted to become a trader for a prestigious bank after school. She was born and raised in Queens by immigrants from Hong Kong and went to Stuyvesant, one of the top public high schools in New York. The reason she was working at Webster Café was that her parents were actually quite poor, which completely surprised me given my initial impressions of her. Although Dartmouth was giving her full financial aid, she paid for her own food expenses. Like me, she thought it was convenient to work for a coffee shop that gave us free food. And yes, she actually did want to retire and become a stay-at-home mother by the time she turned 35, but at the same time, she wanted to live comfortably enough to never have to cook or clean after her kids. As she told me her background, I wondered if the fact that she had grown up poor fueled her desire to become disgustingly rich. Lastly, I learned that Katie had absolutely no filter when she spoke. She literally said anything that was on her mind.
Five minutes before the end of our shift, Katie asked me, “Hey…by chance do you want to tag along when I go out tonight, Lizzy? I know you’re not into bankers, but I’m sure we’ll find plenty of hot future lawyers and doctors who’d totally be nuts for you.”
I burst out laughing at her comment, again not completely sure if she was kidding or not. “I’m good. Sorry, but I really have to start studying for that big test.” I actually did want to stick to my plan and do my work, but also, I wasn’t too excited about the idea of hanging out with Katie’s crew.
“I get it,” she responded. “But let me give you my number in case you change your mind!”
I texted Katie so she’d have my number, but I ended up reading law textbooks all evening while Katie danced the night away.
For our last two years in college, we became partners in crime behind the counter at the café, laughing at each other’s jokes while stirring hot chocolates. But outside work Katie and I only hung out sporadically. My friends didn’t like her too much, thrown off by her outspoken, straightforward nature and occasional lack of regard for others’ feelings. I also eventually started dating a sweet and shy Biological Sciences major named Dylan Horstmann, and he also wasn’t a huge fan. He remembered Katie as the girl who’d obnoxiously rally the partygoers at his dorm while he was a quiet freshman. Even though I didn’t share social circles with her, I didn’t mind Katie. Perhaps I wanted to become more confident, and Katie had so much confidence that it surprised me in a refreshing way. And frankly, I found many of her blunt comments amusing, entertaining, and unabashedly superficial.
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After university, as Katie always got what she wanted, she embarked on her career as a trader at a big bank just as she had planned. As for me, after struggling with the LSAT exams and putting off my dreams of becoming a lawyer, I became a copywriter for a large fashion company. We didn’t hang out much at all considering we both ended up living and working in New York City...we texted each other “Happy birthday” and “Merry Christmas” and then maybe met up once a year for drinks at most.
We were both in committed relationships after school. I was still dating my college sweetheart Dylan who was now working at a consulting company, and we were living together in an apartment in midtown Manhattan. When Dylan and I first moved into our place, even though our apartment was old and we lived on the fifth floor of a walkup, I felt over the moon. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to have found someone as funny and kind as Dylan, and at the time I wanted to spend the rest of my life by his side. A few months after graduating, Katie met an investment banker named Troy Harlington at work. He checked all her boxes: tall, handsome, and grew up in the wealthy suburbs of Westchester. They became boyfriend and girlfriend right away. For the next few years, their photos on Facebook and Instagram would make anyone envious, as they appeared the flawless Wall Street power couple who’d no doubt eventually have highly intelligent, beautiful children backdropped by their towering luxurious mansion. Dylan and I had a double date with Katie and Troy once, and they gushed about their trips to the most exotic areas of the world – the mountains of Oslo, villas in Tuscany, and white sands of Bora Bora.
However, in December 2018, four years after I moved in with Dylan and four years after Katie started dating Troy, our outwardly smooth-sailing lives took a complete turn.
I texted Katie on Saturday, December 8. “Hey Katie! Long time no chat. This is completely random, but by chance do you know someone who needs a roommate in NYC?”
A minute later Katie texted back, “Hi, I’ll poke around and let you know. For when? Who needs a roommate?”
I paused, deliberating whether to tell the truth. I decided to go for it, replying, “It’s for me…so here’s the thing. Dylan and I broke up. I’ll talk to you at some point about it in more detail, but I’m busy finding somewhere to move in ASAP since I’m moving out of our apartment.”
Katie texted back, “OMG. I’m so sorry. How are you doing?”
Honestly, considering I cried myself to sleep the night before and had no idea where I was going to live, I was an absolute mess. But I texted back, “I’m fine, thanks for asking. Let me know if you hear of anybody.”
The next day, I got a text from Katie while I was cooking myself dinner for one. Dylan was staying at his parents’ house in Long Island, while I was living in our Manhattan apartment trying to find a new place. Katie’s text read, “Let’s get drinks sometime this week…maybe tomorrow?? Troy and I actually recently ended things too…you and I have a lot to talk about.”
My mouth fell open, and I was stunned. What had appeared as a picture-perfect relationship between Katie and Troy was clearly far from the truth. And Katie’s meticulously planned vision of getting married at 27 that she had told me about years ago was probably not going to happen at this point. Since I couldn’t imagine Katie ever failing to get what she wanted, I thought it had to be her decision to end things with Troy. “No freaking way,” I wrote her back. “How are you feeling? Who decided to break up?”
“We’ve been going through a rough patch, and Troy dumped me a couple weeks ago. It’s over. Anyway…are you free to meet up tomorrow after work?” she texted.
Stunned that Troy would break up with someone as gorgeous as Katie, I took a deep breath and replied, “Don’t worry, we’ll both get through this. I know we will. Meet me at Sagaponack on 22nd Street tomorrow at 7 PM?”
“I’ll be there.”
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I hadn’t caught up with Katie for over a year when we met at a table at Sagaponack Bar & Grill on 22nd Street between 5th and 6th Avenue. In fact, I hadn’t seen any of my friends a whole lot while Dylan and I were dating, since we had spent so much time with each other. For the rest of the time, I either spent it at work or at home on my couch, tired and drained from a long day. We became that couple.
Sagaponack was near my office, so I had arrived at the restaurant first and got seated at a table near the front window. I chose to meet at this bar since it had a casual atmosphere yet a cute interior with its turquoise-colored walls and seashell chandeliers. Unlike most bars in New York, I could actually hear who I was talking to, rather than having to shout over others. From the window I caught a glimpse of Katie before she hustled into the restaurant with a Canada Goose coat and Sweaty Betty leggings that hugged her tall and slender figure, along with a Louis Vuitton bag I recognized as being on the store’s waitlist.
Katie approached me energetically and gave me a warm hug. “Oh my God, it’s so great to see you…I just came from the gym, so I’m sorry I look like a bum!” Yet she looked stunning as she tossed her jet-black hair while removing her headphones and gray-furred hood. No one would have guessed that she had just suffered a breakup – as I’d always known her, she looked on top of her game.
But then, perhaps someone who didn’t know what I was going through might have said the same thing about me. Since I worked in fashion rather than trading like Katie, I didn’t have the massive spending power that Katie had to buy designer labels. Yet I had developed a chic, unique sense of style. That day I paired a black Zara jump suit with a studded beige leather jacket, along with a statement silver necklace I had bought at a steal price from the Chelsea market. Working at a fashion company with a cosmetics line also came with its perks, as I was able to hide my dark circles from a lack of sleep with concealer I had gotten for free, complemented with a dark plum lipstick. Although I didn’t look too shabby, my appearance was a mask for the pain and anxiety throbbing from inside.
After exchanging some small talk about work over a couple rounds of whiskey on the rocks, Katie leaned in and asked curiously, “So…what exactly happened between you and Dylan? You two seemed so happy when Troy and I went on a double date with you a couple years ago! I could’ve sworn you two would have gotten married.”
“I know…I was also shocked when I heard about you and Troy.”
Katie scoffed out of annoyance and rolled her eyes dramatically, muttering the words, “Typical boy.” Instead of continuing her thoughts, she gulped down the rest of her whiskey, scrunching her face as she swallowed it. “Oof that’s some strong stuff. Just the way I like it. This place was a great choice, Lizzy. Let’s get another.” She waved down the cute waiter and ordered another two bourbons on ice, smiling at him flirtatiously. When he returned with fresh glasses, he winked at Katie and insisted, “These drinks are on the house.”
“Cheers!” Katie raised her glass and clinked it with mine. As soon as we finished the bittersweet liquor, the waiter brought over two Boston Sours. “These are from those gentlemen there,” he told us with a playful smile, pointing at two 6-foot tall thirty-something year-old brunettes standing at the bar, with vests over dress shirts. Katie nodded at them and grinned coyly, and they waved back, eyeing her from head to foot. I giggled, amused by my company. Going out with Katie really had its benefits.
I thought that Katie might have wanted to go talk to the handsome men who so kindly bought us drinks, but clearly she was unfazed by the attention she was so used to getting. She instead immediately turned her full focus to me. “Okay, enough small talk. Spill. Now.”
I paused and stirred my drink. My lighthearted, positive mood from hanging out with Katie so far began to fade as the guilt that I had been suppressing all week began to overwhelm me. I sighed, closing my eyes as I told her, “I broke his heart.”
Katie stared me straight into my eyes as they started avoiding hers. Her friendly tone suddenly became frustrated and sad. “What made you do it?”
I contemplated how honest I should be about what had happened. After all, Katie and I weren’t too close, and since I wanted to avoid the agony, I hadn’t even shared how I was truly feeling with any of my family or friends. But something about Katie made me feel like I wanted to open up to her –maybe it was because I felt she could relate and understand from a shared pain.
Taking a long sip of my cocktail, I started telling Katie my story. The alcohol made my words come out unfiltered, loose. “We loved each other, don’t get me wrong. I still love him, truly I do. Dylan’s my best friend, and I’m his.
“But I just…couldn’t go through with it. I saw our lives before us…the cookie-cutter house, trimmed lawns, popping out a couple of kids. It was all so easy and for the taking…but it just didn’t feel right. I couldn’t see us getting to where we needed to be. For the rest of our lives is a long time.
“There was this path in front of us that just felt too…vanilla…too buttoned up. I felt suffocated…like I was entering an endless, monotonous routine that I didn’t know if I wanted. We’ve been together for five years. People are surprised we’re not engaged by now. Our friends are all getting married left and right.
“But, I felt that if that day came and he were to drop down on one knee and ask me that question…I wasn’t sure if I’d say yes. And even if I did, I’d wonder if I had said yes because it was the convenient thing to do…the thing that all our parents and friends expected…rather than because it was what I truly wanted.
“So I had to end it…it had to be done. I couldn’t live the rest of my life thinking about what could have been, and whether I would have been happier had I not just gone along with it.”
I stopped, catching my breath, feeling a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. I had just purged suppressed thoughts I hadn’t shared with anyone. They were emotions I couldn’t get myself to fully express to Dylan, who had always been my closest confidante I’d share my deepest feelings with.
I finally met Katie’s black almond-shaped eyes, searching for a response. She gulped down the rest of her drink, and suddenly, she slammed down her glass, so hard I was wondering if it broke. Her eyes were fiery, filled with fury and pain. True to the Katie I knew, she didn’t hold any of her words back. “So…it just didn’t feel right? And so, after years, you just walked out, just like that? How could you, shatter someone’s heart into a million pieces? After all you’ve been through, all the memories? You just couldn’t take the next step?” A beautiful shimmer welled over her lower eyelids as her tears reflected the restaurant’s dim lighting.
I looked down at my hands. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, not fully sure why I was apologizing to her. But it just seemed like the natural thing to say.
Katie stood up from the table and threw on her coat as she started to leave. “I can’t believe you did what you did. You must have completely blindsided him.” And with that, she walked out of the restaurant without another word.
As I took the subway home, I contemplated Katie’s melodramatic reaction. I was so used to the cheery and carefree version of her, so I felt quite surprised. Troy must have really cut her deep. For the first time, I truly grasped the pain I must have caused with my decision. Katie’s eyes matched Dylan’s from the night I had ended things with him.
As I opened the door to my empty apartment for two, I felt my iPhone vibrating and clicked the green “answer” button. I heard the sincerity in Katie’s voice from the other side of the line as she said, “I’m sorry I acted the way I did. It’s just…I’m still completely shocked and hurt. I took it out on you, and I shouldn’t have. I also didn’t have much to eat before we drank the whiskey and was a bit tipsy…and so I overreacted.”
I let out a sob and sank on my couch. Relief swam through my body. “Can you forgive me?”
Katie replied, “There’s nothing to forgive. You did the right thing. I actually think you were really brave. Not a lot of girls would have the balls to do that…they’d just go along with it and choose the comfortable life.”
We both paused, not saying anything for a while. I heard Katie sniffle as she murmured, “That life was everything I wanted with Troy. And he just couldn’t give it to me.”
I had never seen or heard Katie cry before. I shook my head as I answered confidently, “But Katie…don’t you see? You can make it on your own, by yourself.”
Katie asked shakily, “How? I was supposed to quit my job in several years and take care of our kids! I need him in my life!”
I wasn’t used to Katie acting so insecure. Clearly, the breakup was taking a huge toll on her. I assured her, “Katie, you don’t need him. You don’t need anyone. Look how far you had gotten in your life before Troy was a part of it! You entered a higher paying career than all our Dartmouth classmates by far, even though you’ve grown up with way more less than they did…and you’re making it in one of the toughest, most male-dominated fields. You’re a complete badass, always unafraid to tell it as it is. If there’s anyone who can survive being on her own, it’s you, Katie Li.”
Katie laughed. “I’m so glad you’re here for me, Lizzy.”
“I’m so lucky to have you too, Katie.” I could tell I was legitimately making her feel better, and I felt a closeness to her that I hadn’t felt before. “Katie…when you’re ready…you know you can talk to me…”
She suggested, “Let’s go on a walk around Washington Square Park after work tomorrow? I’ll tell you everything that happened. I’d love to chat with you more now, but I have a Barry’s Bootcamp class at 5 AM tomorrow morning.”
I cringed at the thought of her getting up so early to do an intense gym class, but I was impressed. I barely rolled out of bed at 8 AM nowadays. Maybe life wasn’t actually so easy for her. She had the perfect body, but she also worked hard for it.
I responded, “I’ll be there tomorrow.”
When I woke up the next morning, I subconsciously reached over to the right side of the bed where Dylan usually slept, expecting to feel the warmth of his body. But he wasn’t there. I felt completely hollow inside and wanted to curl up and cry, but then it hit me that Katie had already burned 1,000 calories at a workout class this morning while I was asleep. I promptly rolled out of bed and got ready for work.