We Found Love

Epilogue

I walked down the street of New York, a huge step up from the little town I’d grown up in. I walked through time square, my eyes focused on the ground beneath me. I’d walked this path what felt like a thousand times since I’d moved to New York in June. 

I walked up the stares of my office building, pulling my long brown hair back into a ponytail as I did so, my eyes still focused on the ground beneath me. I had another twenty minutes before my shift started, giving me just enough time to enjoy a cigarette on the roof of my building, a pass time I’d picked up somewhere in late August. I pushed through the heavy steel door that lead onto the roof, and took in a deep breath of the smog and anger that was New York.

I looked up from the ground to see a boy standing on the ledge of the building, his shoulders bobbing up and down quickly as he took deep breaths. I looked at him a while, studying his back. He was not much younger than I was, possibly even my age- that age being twenty three. I moved forward, somehow finding my voice gone.

“Excuse me?” I said. The boy jumped - not in the jump off the building literal sense, but in the fearful “I thought I was alone” sense. He turned to face me, tears in his eyes. I quirked my head, studying him more now that I could see his face.

“W-what?” He asked fearfully. I motioned for him to get down from the ledge, but he did not oblige. I sighed - this happened more frequently than it really needed to, my needing to stop the jumpers. I walked over, taking his hand and pulling him down from the edge.

“You picked a rather odd place to jump from,” I said, sitting him down on the cool ground beneath us, and lighting a cigarette. He quirked his head now, giving me a rather confused expression. I let out a breath of smoke, making sure to face as much away from him as I could without taking my eyes off of him.

“Killing yourself on the roof of a psychologist's office, I mean,” I said, a small smile on my lips. He looked surprised, but still allowed a small grin to form on his cheeks.

“I’m Annabelle,” I said, “It’s nice to meet you,” I smiled. He held a bewildered expression, one mixed with amount of sadness. I placed my hand on his shoulder, and gave a warm smile. He didn’t pull away though, but rather, stayed still under the small amount of pressure I was putting on his shoulder.

“Anthony,” He said smoothly. I nodded - Anthony. I loved that name, it was such a good name. 

“I once dated a boy named Anthony,” I said, pulling the pack of cigarettes from my purse again and pulling out yet another, as well as offering Anthony one. He held up his hand to decline, but kept a warm expression plain on his cheeks.

“Yeah? What happened to him?” He asked with the amount of curiosity you would find in a small child. I shrugged my shoulders, pulling my hand from his shoulder after having realized it had remained firmly placed there.

“There’s something about boys named Anthony and killing themselves, isn’t there?” I asked, a good amount of humor in my voice, “You’re the second I’ve met, but still,” I shrugged. Anthony nodded his head slightly, and then my words seemed to finally hit him as his expression changed from calm, maybe even bored, to sorry. I patted his shoulder, blowing out a ring of smoke as I did so.

“How old are you, Anthony?” I asked, looking straight into his dark brown eyes. They were more chesnut though, if you really allowed yourself to study them.

“Eighteen,” He said. I nodded my head, standing and holding out my hand to help him up. He took it, raising to his feet then.

“Much too young,” I said, smiling slightly, “Go home, change into something worth exercising in, go for a run, and then call me,” I said, pulling a pen from my bag and writing my phone number on his hand.

“If you don’t call me by the end of the day, I’m calling the police,” I said sternly, “We need not lose yet another beautiful Anthony,” I smiled. Anthony smiled back at me, only now did I realize how high he towered over me.

I stood on my tiptoes and placed a warm kiss on his cheek, my lips hovering just above his ear, “No matter what, Anthony, nobody is worth killing yourself over, no situation, nothing,” I said, “Call me if you need to talk, okay?” I said, pulling away from him and smiling. He nodded, and I walked him down the stairs and onto the main road. I watched him walk a while, before I was sure he was okay and would do as I had instructed him to do.

I walked up the stairs yet again into my building, this time entering my office. My receptionist, Elaine, gives me a warm smile, with a hint of stern jokingness in her eyes.

“You’re late,” She said.

“No actually, I was just on time,” I said, winking at her and entering my personal office.