I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I blinked a few times, spent a moment wishing I wasn’t actually in this position, and then settled against the pillows with a hollow ache in my chest. I tried to accept the fact that it was happening no matter how hard I wished it would stop.
“I want to go far away from here,” he said, his voice sounding lost. He stared straight ahead and hardly acknowledged that I had even woken up. He could have been speaking to himself, save the small twitch in his hand, an almost unnoticeable reach in my direction before he pulled it back.
“I know,” I said. And that was all for a while. We listened to the sound of his teammates getting up around us. There were banging doors and the zippers pulled harshly on suitcases, the sound of teasing and laughter and closet doors sliding as quickly as the tracks would allow. Somewhere to our left, Gerard was waking up with no idea where Cesc was. Neither of us made a move to change that.
When he spoke again, his voice was more conversational, almost spoken with indifference, “It sucks that we don’t live in a world where I love you and you love me and everything... balances.”
His hand tightened around the comforter in a fist and something squeezed painfully in my chest. It felt like something was sitting on it, which would have been a fairly awkwardly entertaining concept if it weren’t so painful.
“That’s not it, Cesc,” I answered with a quiet sigh. “It sucks that we can’t be together.”
There was a long pause and his hands gripped the comforter harder than before, but when I looked up, his face was a perfect mask of calm. “Is that the I love you I get?” His voice was soft and questioning and he demanded no more than I offered.
I sighed quietly again because it wasn’t so hard to admit now, that I loved him. It had been right in front of me from the start and just because I hadn’t spoken it didn’t mean it wasn’t there. It was something that had been growing for a while now and I didn’t feel a sense of relief. I didn’t feel like I reached an epiphany because I knew it all along and only now was I brave enough to let him in on the secret.
“That’s the sort you want, isn’t it? With an air of unattainability and unavailability? Why would you ever want something within reach?”
“Within reach is boring,” he muttered, running a hand over his eyes to remove the sleep. “Why not take something with some actual risk?”
“Because it might already be taken. Which obviously means nothing to you.”
“Obviously,” he replied sarcastically. He tugged at the comforter for something to look at and it reminded me of the previous night when he pulled on my shirt and laughed and kissed me and I felt absolutely invincible, like we’d talked about so long ago at my place.
I knew I was wrong about “taken” meaning nothing, so I shut up and pulled the covers over my arms to cover the goosebumps. I had hardly thought about how Cesc was feeling throughout all this. I had hardly thought about what I was putting him through and how it must feel to be dragged along into this whirlwind of sin and lies and betrayal. The broken trust was scattered everywhere and I didn’t even know where to start to repair.
“I thought it was bad before, but this is a whole new level of self-loathing, drama, despair... you know, the never-ending pit of sorrows,” he said mildly.
That made me smile. “Not dramatic at all.”
He returned the smile, but his was a sad sort. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m always serious.”
His hand fell into place over mine and it was the most heartbreaking kind of warmth because I knew it wasn’t going to last, but I would crave it even as I chased it away.
“It’s funny because I was just thinking about this fortune cookie I got with my takeout the night before I left. I got like three of them, but the one that just...” He shook his head with a wry grin. “The one that just really got me was the one that said Your true character is shown when no one is looking. And you were talking about taking things that weren’t mine to take in the first place and it just got me thinking about--”
“Your fortune cookies?” I asked, for once hoping to keep it light.
He shook his head. “It got me thinking about my character, how I’m not a very good person. How I can’t really be that person for you. I understand why you aren’t staying. I accept that. I accept that this will end and your affection for me will grow into indifference, but never hate because hate would be too much to ask for. But my acceptance doesn’t make me a good person. You’ve seen me when no one else is looking. You know what I am.”
I shook my head. “No. No, I don’t buy that, I’m always looking, so this doesn’t count.”
“You hardly count,” he said, waving his hand haphazardly. “You’re like an extension of me already, so when you’re watching it’s like no one is. There’s nothing I can hide from you, even if I want to.”
His shoulder brushed mine and I instinctively leaned towards him, but he was already moving away and saying, “Of course. Sometimes I want to change what I’ve done, maybe lie about it. I want to seem better for you. Good, upstanding guy who would never make a mistake, who would never be stupid enough to meet you so late.”
“It’s--” I started, but he just shook his head.
“Can we not right now? Can we just sit for once and not argue?”
I tried that for a moment, but the silence of the room was deafening and his eyes were that burned gold color again, reminding me of the first time we kissed and how guilty I felt. It’s funny because I thought that was the worst I would ever feel. If given the opportunity, I’d take that awful feeling over this one because at least back then I didn’t love him.
“I just remember that...” I paused because no matter what I did I was betraying someone. If I went on, I was betraying Jack. If I stayed silent, I was betraying myself. And Cesc was always caught in the crossfire because I keep denying how I feel, denying that I would be happier... I’m just in a violent storm of denial and all the while, I move closer to what I’m denying.
I started again, most likely making the worst decision I possibly could. “I just remember that it felt different when you kissed me, like suddenly all the love songs in the world were about you and me, like we were the only people to ever exist. It’s a selfish way of thinking, but selfish is how we’ve been since we met.”
“Selfish enough to love one another.” He picked at the comforter. His dark hair was curling at the nape of his neck and he reached back up to brush it away from his eyes. “Reminds me of something you said once: Our love stories are always the most compelling.”
“Well,” I said carefully, looking up at him, “this one is.”
He just looked at me for the longest time and didn’t answer. His eyes burned into mine and he looked like he wanted to kiss me, but he didn’t and that was what I pictured every day without him would be like. The moment before a kiss that will never happen. When he finally looked down, he picked at the comforter again and said, “Nothing is permanent when you think about it.”
“Marriage is a little more permanent than you think,” I replied with a nervous laugh.
He made a vaguely disinterested noise and then, “Does he love you the way you want to be loved?”
“It’s not a matter of how I want to be loved. It’s who I want to be loved by.” And that person was most definitely not Jack, but stability and responsibility and absolutely everything that had defined my life up until I met Cesc was standing in my way.
“And who would that be?” he teased gently, bumping my shoulder lightly with his own.
I smiled. “You know what I’ve decided?” He left his shoulder against mine. “I sort of do like the morning after.”
“You just like it because I look particularly handsome in the mornings.” He sighed contentedly and leaned back against the pillows.
“With your hair all over your face and sleep in your eyes? Absolutely, that’s it.” I brushed my hand against his because this was my grace period. I had a little more time left to pretend I didn’t live in the real world where the end was neither disparaging nor perfect.
He laughed and his eyes did that thing where they crinkle at the edges and if I thought it killed me before, now I felt the death a thousand times over. When the laughter died on his lips, I looked over and he was staring out the window.
“Last day here,” he said in that way where I knew he was trying to sound positive, but something was crumbling inside.
“Thank God,” I tried to joke, but something caught in my throat and it came out more like a desperate plea for more time. “What are you going to do when I’m gone?”
“Miss you like you’ll never know,” he murmured, settling his hands in his lap, probably so he didn’t have to touch me. I stayed silent. I didn’t want to break down again like yesterday because it led to last night which was incredible and torturous in its own way.
“London’s nice though. You’ll like it. You’ll like the rain. And... there’s this old bookstore I can give you the address to and you should see Arsenal’s home stadium. Well, you should see all the stadiums, but ours is the best....”
He kept talking and talking about London and everything I would like there and I think he knew I wasn’t listening and maybe that made it easier to pretend to be happier because the smile didn’t seem so forced once I’d dropped off.
“....Obviously you should see that. I mean, everyone goes to see that in London...”
I tried to listen but I was lost in my thoughts again and I didn’t want to think about London anyway. The only memory I felt comfortable losing myself in was the one from last night. The tangled sheets and sweaty bodies and whispered words. The promises broken and the promises made. The loyalties lost, the trust betrayed, and how I’d struggled to keep my eyes open after that because he was speaking quietly about small things, trivial things, almost like he was dodging the fact that we’d just gone too far, but it seemed so important not to miss a word. I fell asleep in the end like I knew I would and even if I was too tired to remember every little detail, there was some pull in my chest that knew, that just knew that if it ever happened again, I would have his body memorized like my map to salvation.
When I finally pulled myself out of my thoughts, Cesc was quiet again and leaning back against his pillow; He looked amused.
“Sorry.” I pulled my knees up and hugged them to my chest. “I’m just tired. And I don’t want to think about London.”
“Not the city, idiot,” I said with a grin. “I just don’t want to be away from you.”
He leaned in slowly and his lips brushed mine. It was hesitant and slow and utterly perfect. My hands settled into fists against his back as if I were grabbing at an invisible shirt. His eyelashes ticked my cheeks and he bit my lip lightly. He muttered something too quickly for me to understand and then he released me and sat back, shutting his eyes and leaning back against the pillow again.
There was a long stretch of silence save our breath and then his eyes fluttered open. “Promise you’ll go?”
Cesc’s look was pleading and there was a sharp pain to it, like he was finally stripping away a layer to show me some of the pain and, once I’d seen it, there was no way I could refuse him anything.
“I mean it, Noelle. After everything, if you’re not going to leave him, promise me you’ll agree. You’ll go to London. You’ll go wherever he wants to go. You’ll leave. Please just give me that much.”
His hand was gripping the comforter again, but I didn’t even have to look there. Everything was always, always written in his eyes. He wasn’t good enough at manipulating people to learn how to hide it and I much preferred it that way. There’s something quite wonderful about being able to read him like a book and loving everything I see. But I had to remind myself that it wasn’t always going to be like this, that years down the road, I would be with Jack and he would find someone and maybe we’d meet up again eventually. I would find that he had changed entirely. His eyes would be empty, his smile would be different, and his cheeks wouldn’t turn pink when he got embarrassed. I would forever miss this one with the stupid crazy hair and the lips that were shaped to fit against mine.
I couldn’t look at him as I answered, so I just shrugged and leaned against the pillows and watched my beautiful boy one last time. “I’ll tell him when I get back tonight.”
Gerard was standing near the minibar when I returned, sneaking a few of the chocolates I’d told him to save for me for after the game. I gave him a suspicious look and he hid them behind his back. His expression was serious, however, and I got the feeling that it might not be about the chocolates, although if you asked me that was quite a serious matter.
“Where were you? I didn’t hear you come in last night.” He set the chocolates down on the table behind him, the wrapper loud against his sticky fingers.
“Well. That’s because I didn’t.” I crossed over to my bed and grabbed the same training clothes from yesterday. It didn’t smell that bad, did it? I raised it cautiously to my nose and, almost at once, set it down hastily.
“So, where were you? Did you just sleep on the side of the road or something?” There was something tense in his voice that I really wasn’t in the mood for.
“Yes, Gerard,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, “I slept on the side of the fucking road.” I opened the closet and grabbed a new shirt. Gerard was still there and he almost looked... hurt. I looked away quickly. Was there any end to the damage I would cause?
“I’m just asking,” he said quietly. He picked back up the chocolate, unwrapped it, and stuffed it in his mouth. Chewing is now a form of guilt-tripping. “I’ll meet you downstairs,” he said mournfully.
I shut my eyes. I hate him. I really do. “Gerard, wait--”
He turned around and I could see the triumph in his eyes. “Yeah?” He flopped down on the bed with a thump and raised his eyebrows expectantly.
“Do you ever think that maybe things were put in our life simply to make us miserable?” I asked, thinking of Noelle and how every time I kissed her it was like being burned in a thousand ways, each more painful and more brilliant than the last.
His expression softened and he looked away. “We’re having one of these conversations, are we?” He shrugged uncomfortably. “I mean, yeah, of course I do. You remember when I almost had to miss that match because my passport had expired a few days before?”
“I don’t mean stuff like that.” I avoided his eyes.
I dressed quickly and Gerard was quiet. I turned to the mirror and ran my fingers through my hair, decided that was enough, and returned my gaze to Gerard to find him looking at me like he’d looked at me for a long time now: worried like I was spinning entirely out of control, like people are meant to be controlled in any way.
“You okay?” he asked carefully.
I shrugged and left without giving an answer because I honestly didn’t have one.
Cesc and I had already talked about it before and we agreed I wouldn’t be able to see the game. The media would be out in full force and, because rumors about him having a new girlfriend were circulating, they would be on a manhunt. Or rather, a womanhunt.
I would have to leave before the game, possibly without a goodbye. When I thought about the morning as the goodbye, I felt a little better, but it fell into that gray area of not accepting reality.
I rolled my suitcase back and forth as I waited for the elevator, making a face as I heard someone approaching. He was tall and muscular and stupidly attractive. I gave him a polite smile. He returned it with a ridiculous amount of energy.
“Hello,” he said. “Cesc is shit at introducing people, but I’m pretty sure you arrived with him, yeah?”
“Sergio,” he said sticking out his hand to shake mine. “I hope Cesc didn’t say horrible things about me because I play for Madrid.”
“Oh, no, he didn’t--” I started off hurriedly and then cut off, realizing he was joking. His features split into a pleasant smile and he laughed, dropping his outstretched hand. I returned the smile uncomfortably.
“I’m only joking,” he said cheerfully. The elevator doors opened and I thought about going back to my room under the pretense of having forgotten something, but that would only delay my exit and it had to happen eventually.
Sergio stepped inside with his training bag and stretched out his arm to hold the door for me. “So how long have you and Cesc known each other?”
“A few months,” I replied, pressing the close door button. I wasn’t going to risk anyone else hopping in. One excited, overly-talkative teammate of Cesc’s was enough.
“A few months,” he repeated with the smile still etched on his features. It didn’t seem forced and his polite exterior wasn’t just that. His pleasant demeanor was as deep as it goes and I began to feel a little guilty for my short replies.
“You’ll take care of our Cesc, won’t you?” He was smiling and it wasn’t a serious question, but I just stared at him for a moment, alarmed and worried that somehow he knew I was the main reason Cesc needed taking care of in the first place.
“Yes,” I said finally with some difficulty. “Of course I will.” I’ll take care of him by leaving and moving to London and not inviting him to my wedding because some things just need to be left alone. I’ll keep him safe by leaving and never looking back.
“Good.” Sergio shifted his training bag, but there was still no trace of discomfort. His social skills were frighteningly good and his smile looked suspiciously genuine. “So are you enjoying your vacation here?”
“Yes, very much.” I stared straight ahead and tried not to think about kissing Cesc in the rain like some cheesy romantic novel, but it played over and over again in my head and I thought about how maybe people are all the same when they’re in love: completely and utterly without their wits. Love blinds me in this case and with Jack it was always an eye-opener. He showed me the mistakes in my work; I showed him his mistakes. We helped one another. People marry for different reasons. Sometimes for companionship, financial security, to have a family, and occasionally for love.
The doors opened and I practically breathed a sigh of relief. Sergio smiled at me one last time. “So you’re not staying for the game?” He put his hand between the doors to stop them from closing.
“No, uhm, I really have to get back to work, but tell Cesc I said goodbye.” My face turned slightly pink and I felt a lump form in my throat as I thought about leaving without talking to him, without telling him now was the time to cut all ties.
“Oh, he’s right out here,” Sergio said, pointing to the restaurant. “You can go say goodbye yourself.”
I shook my head and backed up a step. “I’m going down one more floor, to the lobby. But tell him I said goodbye if you can, if you get a chance.”
His smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. “Of course. I’m sure you’ll see him in a few days anyway.”
I didn’t answer and Sergio stepped back, letting the elevator doors slide shut. Before they closed completely, I heard his shout of, “Hey, Cesc!”
“What?” I looked up distractedly to see Sergio walking towards me. It’s not like we weren’t friends, but we rarely talked and he certainly didn’t seek me out at breakfast. He bypassed Iker and Xabi completely and took the seat next to me.
Gerard nudged me and breathed, “Looks like you have a secret admirer. Are you and Sergio going steady now?”
“We are at that point in our friendship when you should realize how intensely I despise you,” I returned with a smile.
Sergio nudged my arm and I turned to him without even trying to look happy. “I met your girlfriend in the elevator.” And of course, because Sergio cannot and will not ever have any volume control over his own voice, half the table heard.
The reactions were mixed. Gerard looked mildly surprised, Iker looked cautious, Sergio was still smiling, and Xavi grimaced.
I sighed and thought about just letting my face fall in my plate. Gerard smirked. “I could set you on fire to create a distraction.”
“Again, I hate you.” I smiled mildly at Sergio who was either oblivious to Gerard’s remarks or just chose to ignore them. They normally didn’t see eye to eye and when they did, they often didn’t realize it. They were civil, but when El Clasico came around, I wanted to be far, far away when the two of them met.
“She was on her way to the lobby and she told me to tell you bye for her.” Sergio smiled again and it struck me what a smiley person he was. I wondered what his reason was to smile and why his reason wasn’t ever taken away from him. My reason to smile wasn’t something concrete. It was taken away from me-- or rather, never mine to begin with. And so the smiles were few and far between.
I knew she had to leave before the game, but I expected something. A big teary goodbye and a long speech about how much she loved me would have made me feel slightly gratified for about five seconds before I remembered my life is shit.
“Thanks, Sergio,” I said, staring down at my plate, hyperaware of everyone staring at me.
“She’s not coming to the game?” asked Alvaro from the end of the table, a clear sign that I should use this fork as a weapon against Sergio.
“She has work,” I said shortly. I picked at the bread on my plate until the topic changed and they began to talk about the upcoming match and who would be starting. Someone was teasing Sergio about his new haircut and he moved to sit with Iker, giving me a clap on the shoulder.
Gerard nudged my arm and I looked up. “What?”
“Don’t be a little bitch about this, okay?” He stole some of my coffee and he was so goddamn casual about everything I felt like throwing one of the hotel’s vases at his head.
“Because you were in such a good mood when shit happened between you and Marisa,” I snapped. Gerard fell silent and I didn’t look up. I moved the bread around my plate some more and finally stood up, the silence too painful. As I walked past, I heard Sergio relating his story about Noelle in the elevator to Iker, Alvaro, and Fernando.
I walked past them and the worst part was that I didn’t even feel like forgetting. That’s all I ever wanted when I loved Marisa. I didn’t want to ever see her smile again; I just wanted to forget I had ever loved it. With Noelle, I never wanted to forget, even if the memories were like taking a bath in saltwater after taking a dive off a cliff onto rocks below. Well. Maybe that was a bit much, but it was exceedingly painful. And I wanted every bit of it to happen all over again. I wondered if people could live in memories.
While I waited for the elevator, Gerard walked up beside me. His hands were in his pockets and he looked perfectly relaxed, but there was some invisible tension in his shoulders that I knew, after years and years, meant something was weighing heavily on his mind. Just as he knew me too well to ignore how distant I’d been the past few months.
“Why?” he asked simply and it was a why that meant Please tell me. I’m here to listen like I wasn’t before. But it was less awkward and in fewer words, so I liked the why a lot better.
The elevator doors opened and closed and I watched them fall shut with a thud. “Noelle gives me what I really am, you know? When you feel lost and you can’t paint a picture of yourself, you just can’t find what your real character is, you need someone like her. She doesn’t paint a good picture, but at least I’m no longer blind.”
“Are you happy though?” His tone was more accusatory now, more Gerard-like. “With this image she gives you of yourself? Are you happy with the sort of person she makes you? Because I have to tell you Cesc, I’m not.” There was anger in his eyes. Anger and disbelief and maybe a little hurt. It’s funny how my actions have affected me, the woman I love, and somehow my best friend because he cares too much. He cares too much about my destructive personality even though he normally prides himself on being so unfeeling.
“I already know you’re disappointed--” I started, sounding like a sulky teenager.
“I’m not disappointed,” he snapped and he pushed me, actually pushed me like he meant to start a fight right in the lobby of the hotel. He pushed me again and I was pressed against the wall next to the elevator, glaring up at him, but I didn’t resist because I just didn’t care. “You cheated. She cheated. You somehow rationalized it in your head. Or maybe you didn’t. Maybe the whole time you knew it was wrong and you went ahead and did it anyway. Either way, I’m not disappointed, Cesc. I am so far beyond that. I know you care about her, but she’s engaged. Taken, Cesc. Taken and loved and not yours. She has never been yours and you’re deluding yourself into thinking this is love.”
I pushed him off me and he let me, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He didn’t move forward again, but he continued, his voice pleading and insistent.
“You can’t do this to yourself and you can’t do this to her. The only smart decision you’ve made through this entire thing was telling her to leave.” He shook his head sadly, his eyes begging me to understand what I was doing, maybe begging me to care, but I was too far gone to see that clearly.
I winced and he noticed. His voice softened. “Look, Cesc, I’m sorry I gave you the impression that I was okay with this because I listened before and I didn’t say any of this. I just... I should have told you right from the start that this wasn’t a good idea, but I thought maybe you would see it on your own... Or, I didn’t care. I just thought you were back to normal maybe. You were telling me things, coming over to my place. It was like old times except you were fucking up your life and I was selfish enough to take that as normal. I was selfish enough to realize I had you back and so I overlooked what a giant mistake you’re making.”
“What mistake,” I said bitterly, trying to ignore the fact that he was talking about the disintegration of our friendship. “The mistake is over, Gerard. She’s moving to London. Getting married. Marriage is more permanent than I thought.”
Her words from this morning echoed in my mind and I thought that even if I wasn’t lucky enough to make her hate me that maybe, just maybe, I might be able to hate her if given the time. Hatred is better than indifference and memories there simply for memory’s sake. But then the images of her last night and this morning filtered through my brain and I knew there was no way I could ever feel differently. No hatred, no indifference, no loss of trust could ever change the fact that I love her. I began to realize that loving someone is never simply in your past and it’s more like a life raft than a knife to your chest. It twists painfully, but it’s not love unless it saves you.
“Don’t be in love with her,” I finished with a forced half-smile. “Ger, her being engaged doesn’t change a thing. Neither does her moving away. She will be gone and I will still love her just as I do now and that’s okay. It will be okay.”
There was some icy coolness to his gaze that shattered when I said that and the real anger flooded in. “It’s not okay. You did all this to make yourself happy and....Are you, Cesc? Are you happier than how you started out?”
I just looked at him, expressionless, because I know how much he hates that in an argument. The anger left his features entirely and he sighed, took another step back, and his hands returned to his pockets. He stood there for a moment, looking at me with the same worried look he’d used when I’d broken my leg so long ago and he’d rushed over even though we were on different sides and the two of us are as competitive as they come. The worry was there again and I could almost feel the grass beneath my feet, feel the pain that blurred my vision, and hear the roar of the fans as I went to the ground.
“Maybe it’s best if we get back to the team,” Gerard said like I was a lost cause.
He watched me until I looked back up at him and it struck me how much of my pain I brought upon myself. Gerard walked away and I felt guilty again like I was putting him through all this along with Noelle and me. How fucking horrible it must be for him to have to cover for me. When the team asked, he could have revealed everything, but he stayed quiet and true.
It’s funny how I always considered myself to be morally superior to him and it turns out he’s completely averse to the idea of betraying someone and I’ve aided Noelle in just that.
When I finally landed, the game had already passed and it was too early to call Jack, so I waited for a taxi outside the airport. It was mostly empty this early in the morning, save a few flights that had been delayed like mine and I thought it was much nicer at this time, a few people milling around and for a moment, I pretended they were just as lost as I was. The automatic doors slid open and I could hear the loud speaker echoing through the near empty airport.
When one hadn’t come for ten minutes, I pulled out my phone and fiddled with it, scrolling through just to see the sole picture I had of Cesc there. It was right before we’d visited The Louvre. The wind was blowing his hair all over the place and he was scrunching his face up all tight. I remembered him complaining about the weather and then pulling me in, stealing my phone from my pocket, and forcing me to take the picture with him. The flash had gone off a second late and caught an intensely embarrassing photo of the both of us. I like it this way, he’d said, so I kept it.
Once that memory played, there was a tightness in my chest and I shut my eyes, trying not to think anymore about him because this was supposed to be it. This was supposed to be the end. I said three days and three days only. Not three days of being with him and a continuation of my betrayal.
I called him, only thinking of hearing his voice and forgetting the time. It would be my last call. My last call ever and that was how it had to be. I had to promise myself that.
(I was already planning on not keeping it.)
He didn’t pick up, of course he didn’t pick up. He was exhausted from the game and probably wouldn’t want to speak to me anyway. Not after I left without a goodbye. Not after the white sheets were twisted so tightly around the both of us and it was like nothing could rip through that. Well, morning could, I suppose, but it never felt like that when the stars were out.
“This is Cesc’s phone. Leave a message...” There was a faint crash in the background. “Uhm, leave a message. If you want. Yeah, after the beep. Okay.”
I smiled, missed the beep, and started the message a moment later, too thrown off to plan out what I was going to say. “Hey, it’s Noelle. I just wanted to say that...I...” I was about to say miss him, but that wouldn’t help either of us. “....landed. I just landed.” I winced at the sound of my own voice. “The flight was delayed and I heard someone talking about the game and I asked if you started and they said you had. So. Congratulations on the start. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say. I miss--”
Startled, I stood up from my perch on the bench and looked around. Jack was striding towards me in a dark coat, the rain soaking him through. His shoes were drenched and made a squeaking sound every time he took a step. His suit underneath his rain jacket was spotted with dark drops, but his tie was as immaculately straight as always.
“Jack?” I hastily ended the call and shoved my phone in my pocket. “What are you doing here?”
“You said your flight got in at ten. I was... I’ve been waiting.” He scratched his forehead like he was confused, his wet hand leaving a trail of rainwater. A drop made its way down his face and he reached up to brush it away.
“Yeah. I thought, you know, maybe your flight was delayed or something.” He shifted uncomfortably and stuffed his hands into his pockets, straightening up and nodding at me awkwardly.
“It was,” I said, the guilt building in my chest. He’d waited for hours upon hours and he was still pleased to see me. And I was coming home from cheating on him. The universe sure knows how to stick it to me. I guess it’s something I deserve though, so I’m happy to shoulder the karma. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to pick me up. I feel bad you’ve been waiting here all this time.”
He shrugged and a smile lit up his features. “I missed you. I hope you had a good time with your sister though.”
I just looked at him for a moment before nodding. “I had a great time. She says hi and she’s excited for the wedding. She’s already planning out what dress she wants to wear.” If only I could brand that a little white lie. If only I could brand all this simply a mistaken affair.
Jack smiled and pulled me towards him, his arm sliding around my waist and for once his sentences were tossed hastily together, coming out all in a wild scramble of “uhms” and “yeahs” and awkward pauses. “I can’t wait for the wedding. Uhm, even if we don’t move. I’m fine here if you’re here...I just... I realized, while you were away, even if it only was three days...” He put his head closer to mine and kissed my cheek. “We can always just visit London. I’m not so hellbent on moving there that I want to sacrifice your happiness... I... uh... yeah.”
Startled still from the kiss, I didn’t speak yet. I allowed him to pull me into his chest as we walked out to the car, but mostly because I was frozen with guilt and shock. Jack, the same old Jack who hated to kiss me in front of large groups of people, who refused to talk about our plans for the evening until after work, who threw away shirts because they had a small coffee stain, was kissing me on the cheek like he was in love. I knew there was love between us, but I had never deluded myself into thinking it was anything other than a friendly love and a need for companionship.
“Actually, Jack,” I said, thinking of Cesc and how bleary he’d been in the morning, talking about moving far away and how he was miserable because of me, “I was thinking while I was away too and I think we should go to London.” I remembered my promise and promises were supposed to be a good thing, but this one felt like a death sentence.
Jack stopped in his tracks and turned to look at me with indescribable joy. I underestimated his desire to go home even more than I underestimated his ability to love. “Are you sure? You seemed so against it earlier. You have to understand that your happiness is important to me.”
I knew he was trying his best and he genuinely cared and I should be so grateful, but all I could do was compare him to Cesc. You have to understand that your happiness is important to me. Cesc would have said something about how happiness was the thing we all worked towards and happiness (and I say this bitterly) made it all worth it. He would have said that my happiness made his own seem unimportant, that he would give the world to make me happy, that he would never speak to me again if that would make me smile. Something overly dramatic and outlandish and wildly unbelievable. But I had to clear my mind of Cesc because this was the path I had chosen and whether I was happy with it or not, it was laid out in front of me with mortar bricks of regret to light the way.
“Of course I’m sure,” I said finally. “I love you. Of course I’m sure.”
“Hey, it’s Noelle. I just wanted to say that...I...”
My hand tightened around the phone as if I could somehow pull us into a different dimension where there were no complications, I was more eloquent than I knew how to be, and far braver than anyone had the right to be.
“...landed. I just landed. The flight was delayed and I heard someone talking about the game and I asked if you started and they said you had. So. Congratulations on the start. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say. I miss--”
And then my favorite part came next. Jack in the background. Him calling to her, the sound of the rain pounding in the background, her saying his name, and shutting the phone hastily because I was something to forget, something to shove to the back of her mind, nothing worth remembering.
She made me completely and utterly miserable and I was violently in love with her.
