Monkey Business

russ has a fleeting regret

Wednesday, April 28, 10:40 a.m.

I put down my pencil and raise my hand. Third exam over. I stretch my legs under the desk. Wait for the proctor to come take my paper. Insert my student card into my front pocket.

Kimmy is sitting three rows ahead, scribbling furiously. It’s weird to think that after Friday I might never see her again. Nick told me she’s planning on going back to Arizona. She’s not taking the job at O’Donnel, either. I called last week to tell them I changed my mind because of family obligations, and they weren’t too thrilled. Oh, well.

Kimmy runs her fingers through her hair, and I feel a pang in my chest. Part of me still wants her, and probably always will. Maybe our paths will cross someday. Maybe we’ll both be visiting New York and will be crossing Fifth Avenue at the same time and our eyes will lock. If I expect Sharon to forgive me, or at least let me be a part of our baby’s life, I can’t have any contact with Kimmy. It’s the right thing to do. I care about her, but I have to be responsible.

I’m going to have to grovel. I asked Sharon if she wanted to get married and she told me to go to hell. But you never know, eh?

“All done?” the proctor asks, taking my exam.

“Yes.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I say. I’ll need it.