The next morning, I walked across the lawn to Gatsby's house and greeted him inside.
"'Nothing happened,' he said wanly. 'I waited, and at about four o’clock, she came to the window and stood there for a minute and then turned out the light.'" (Fitzgerald, Ch. 7)
“Gatsby, I think you should leave town. The police will probably trace your car and you might be investigated or sent to jail.”
“I can’t leave Daisy now. After all this time, I can’t abandon her,” Gatsby let out an exasperated sigh. However, there was a tinge of apathy in his voice. Almost as if he wished she would just leave.
I checked my watch, there was fifteen minutes until my train. “I have to go to work. I’ll stop by later.”
“Already? It's not even eight yet!” Gatsby complained.
“I'll be here... as long as you want me to be," he replied.
But I wasn't so convinced by his words. It felt as though he was about to disappear in front of my eyes. Coveting his presence, I held his hand tightly for a moment. Then quickly let go.
"I'll see you soon." I said.
I left, feeling a strange emptiness in me. Walking back, I thought about the friendship we had established over the summer. Without thinking, I turned around and saw his tired figure. “‘They’re a rotten crowd,’ I shouted across the lawn. ‘You’re worth the whole damn bunch put together.’” (Fitzgerald, Ch. 8) I saw his face lighten up with a smile as he nodded his head.