Our Way

by Swan, T L

  We both stare out of the windscreen as the sad words sing out. It’s like it’s talking directly to my soul.

  And if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave.

  That’s exactly what I feel is happening to us.

  I watch Nathan as he drives, void of emotion, a shell of the man that I love, and I know what I need to do.

  I’m not going to let us hate each other.

  I’m going to give him the space that he needs. Soon, I will know if he loves me or not.

  Either way, I need answers.

  * * *

  It’s 8:00 p.m., and we’re sitting on the couch in silence. We had take-out, and I feel sick to my stomach.

  I frown as I try to work out how to broach the subject. “So, um… you know how I told you I wasn’t liking my new job?”

  His eyes come to me. “Yes.”

  “I’ve thought of a solution that might… help us both.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I applied for a job at the private hospital and I got the email today that said I was successful.”

  He nods as he listens. “Okay.”

  My eyes search his. “The job’s in New York.”

  “What?” He sits up abruptly. “What do you mean, it’s in New York?”

  “It’s only four days a week. And it would give us some time, you know.”

  “Time for what?” he snaps as he stands and marches into the kitchen.

  I run after him like a puppy. “You can sort out your baggage with Robert, and then we can start afresh. We moved in together too quickly, Nathan.”

  “What?” he explodes. “I don’t have any baggage with Robert.”

  “Yes, you do, Nathan. You’ve been distant ever since he came here.” His eyes hold mine.

  “And I know you would never leave me… so.”

  His face falls as if having an epiphany. “So, you’re going to step aside for him?”

  My eyes fill with tears. “I can’t compete with Robert. What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to fight for us, goddamn it!” he cries. “Why can’t you compete with Robert? Tell me why?” He demands.

  “If you want a man…” My voice breaks. “I can’t compete.”

  His face falls, and he steps back from me as if I’ve just delivered a physical blow. “And there it is again,” he whispers.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You are the last person.” He sneers in a whisper. “That I ever thought would judge me based on who I’ve loved in the past. That would gauge my capability to love based on what you think it should be.” His face falls. “I thought you knew me.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “You’re never going to drop this.” He shakes his head as if totally convinced.

  “Nathan.”

  “There’s always going to be this seed of doubt in your mind. I’ll never just be the person who loves you. I’ll always be a guy who gave up men for you.” His eyes fill with tears. “Love is love… until it isn’t.”

  My eyes search his. “That’s not what I mean.”

  “That’s what you said,” he whispers.

  “I can go to New York and… and give us both some time… maybe,” I stammer.

  “I don’t need time!” he cries. “I need you!”

  “I know you don’t see it at the moment but we need this time apart. I’ll be home every week, and we can make it work. It’s just a few months and then I’ll be back. We got together so quickly. It was a whirlwind, and I need to know that I’ve given you the space to contemplate your future.”

  “No.”

  “Nathan.”

  “I said no. You go to New York and that is it. We are fucking done.”

  “Stop it!” I yell. “Listen to my reasoning.”

  “I’m done listening to you, Eliza.” He picks up his keys.

  “Where are you going?” I cry in a panic.

  “Out.”

  “When will you be home?”

  “After you go to New York.”

  “Nathan.” I sigh.

  “I’m done.” His eyes hold mine.

  “Don’t say that.”

  His eyes meet mine. “I loved you with all of my heart.” He turns toward the door. “Goodbye, Eliza.”

  My face falls along with my tears. Nathan walks out the front door and doesn’t look back.

  It clicks shut with a final bang.

  24

  Eliza

  I sit and stare at the paper in front of me with the pen in my hand.

  What can I possibly write to make sense of this? I just want him to understand, although I’m not even sure myself.

  I’m just going to lay it all out on the table. He can decipher it as he wishes.

  Nathan.

  Timing hasn’t been kind to us, my darling.

  We met ten years ago by, what I thought at the time, was an accident.

  It was anything but an accident. I believe it was fate.

  I was meant to meet you, to be by your side as a friend for ten years. We were meant to fall in love, and in a perfect world we would have ruled that world together.

  But I have doubts, and not about my feelings for you, because they are set in concrete. I will love you for all of eternity.

  My fears are for you.

  You see, Nathan, I know how much you care about me, and I know that any man who sleeps beside a woman for a long period of time will develop feelings for her. You were blindsided by your attraction to me, and in the end, you couldn’t fight it. We moved quickly and fell in love, and the days I spent in your arms are the happiest times of my life.

  But things fell apart, and I’m broken-hearted, battling to get through the days. So, I’m going to explain things from my perspective. I’m not saying I’m right and you’re wrong or vice versa. I’m just trying to find a solution to this mess.

  And being honest with each other seems like the only thing we haven’t yet done.

  When you went to Stephanie when you had feelings for me, it broke something between us.

  The trust I had in my best friend was lost.

  I tried to get it back, but it never recovered. I was insecure about her, and then in Majorca, you told me that the biggest regret in your life was leaving Robert. It made me wonder if you’d ever gotten over him.

  A feeling that stayed with me throughout our time together.

  We came back to San Fran and moved in together immediately, I never resolved my Stephanie and Robert fears. This was entirely my fault, not yours. I blame myself for not talking to you and trying to resolve this earlier. I didn’t want to be the insecure girlfriend. I thought you deserved better.

  Then I found out that you spoke to Robert every day, and obviously still cared for him. That, coupled with the fact you were friends with Stephanie all along and had lied to me about it, left me feeling so betrayed and only fueled my fears even more so.

  While being desperately in love with you, my insecurities were spiralling of control.

  Then, I met Zavier at the conference.

  He was lovely, and we clicked straight away. I knew from the first moment that I talked to him that you and him were lovers. I wasn’t upset about it. I can see why. He’s beautiful.

  We met, we spoke, and he told me about the two of you, and I understood. He said you were a wonderful person and he wished us the best. But at the end of the conversation,when I told him about our friendship for ten years, he said that it made a lot of sense.

  All week at the conference, I wondered what he meant by it, and on the last day before I flew home to you, I asked him to elaborate as to what he meant.

  He said that perhaps he thought you wanted children and your body has started to crave mine to fulfill its destiny. He also said that you had told him that you were still in love with Robert.

  I was beyond devastated.

  Crushed that perhaps we had fallen in love under false pretences, and that, no matter how much we loved each othe
r, your love for Robert was never going to go away.

  I was selfish, too proud to tell you my fears, and I talked to my friends instead of you. I thought I could handle my insecurities myself. I didn’t want you to see how badly I was struggling with us.

  Because us was so, so beautiful, and you deserved better.

  Maybe when you love someone as much as I love you, fear is always present. An evil, waiting in the wings to steal happiness.

  I drop my head as a tear rolls down my cheek. God, this really is it for us. I blink to try and focus, and I begin to write again.

  Then Robert came to you and professed his love, and seeing your reaction to him, I know it hurt. It’s obvious that you still love him.

  You wouldn’t talk to me. You withdrew. Even through a pregnancy scare, we were distant. I died a little every day without you. At a time when I needed you the most, I was completely alone, faced with the possibility of having a child with a man who loved another.

  I understand why—you didn’t want to hurt me by leaving. That’s not who you are.

  Nathan, my darling, I’m giving you the time you deserve.

  I love you so much—I love you more than life itself—and I could never keep you held to me, knowing that your heart is aching for someone else.

  As your best friend, I need to sacrifice my happiness for yours.

  Hopefully, we will find a way back to each other and you will come to me in New York.

  I will wait for you. I will love you from across the country and pray that you return to me.

  But I understand if you can’t, and I wish you all the happiness you deserve.

  Please remember how much you are loved, and make the decision that is right for you.

  I’ll be okay.

  Always,

  Eliza

  xoxo

  * * *

  “Last call for flight 756 to New York.”

  I sit in the boarding lounge of the airport. I’ve been here for five hours. I couldn’t sit and wait in that apartment a moment longer.

  Nathan hasn’t been home for three days. I guess, if I was questioning whether I was doing the right thing, Nathan has answered me, loud and clear.

  He wanted me to stay and fight for us, but there are two people in a fight and I can’t do this alone.

  I wouldn’t want to.

  He needs to show up, too. He needs to see where I am coming from, and that shutting down on me isn’t the answer.

  Now, on reflection, I get his point. I see what he is upset about. But he’s wrong thinking that this is all in my head. I was there. I saw it with my own eyes how upset he was when Robert came to him, and I know he doesn’t understand any of this now, but hopefully, in time, he will.

  Our love was too fast, too passionate, and too blinding with its beauty.

  I smile sadly. Boy, was it beautiful. Nathan and I together, when things were going good, was a fairy tale.

  It doesn’t get any better than what we had, and if he can throw it away so easily without even showing up for the fight then I guess I did us all a favor by leaving.

  “Last call for flight 756 to New York,” sounds over the intercom once more and I exhale heavily.

  It doesn’t make it hurt less.

  I want the happy ending. I want the fairy tale where he runs through the airport to stop me from leaving. I glance up in the hope of seeing him. I long to see him frantically running to stop me from ruining everything.

  But he’s not here.

  He hasn’t been here since Robert came. Maybe even before that.

  He checked out on me when I needed him to stand up and tell me what I had done wrong.

  And he said that I had a prejudice. But maybe the complex is his, not mine.

  I’m not saying I’m in the right, but any woman who found out that their partner had spoken to his ex every day for ten years, and that he had always begged them to come back to him, would be rattled. Add to that, the ex came back professing his love, and the boyfriend has hardly spoken two words to you since. It’s not rocket science.

  I am doing the right thing.

  We need space. We need time.

  I need him.

  My eyes fill with tears.

  “Last call for flight 756 to New York,” repeats over the intercom.

  I stand, and with one last longing look over San Francisco airport, I drag myself on the plane. It feels like my world is ending, and maybe it is.

  Maybe this is the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever done.

  He didn’t come.

  * * *

  The text comes through from Jolie, and I scroll through the selections she’s sent to me:

  Furnished apartments.

  One bedroom, furnished, great location.

  Week to week, no lease.

  And btw, Santiago is a prick.

  Had a gangbang last night with four girls.

  He’s gone.

  I smirk, thank God, that’s over. I mark it down to go and look at it. I don’t want to be locked into anything long term.

  I’m in a café, and I’ve been in New York for three days. I’m staying at a hotel. I don’t start work until next week but I just had to get out of San Fran… away from him.

  The dust has settled, and the tears have stopped. I’m getting angry now.

  How could he do this to me?

  I thought after he read the letter that things would work out, or I would at least hear from him for closure. I was sure the letter explained everything: my thoughts and hopes and dreams for us. My undying love for him and how much I cherished what we had.

  I thought he would have called, if not as a lover, but as the best friend he’s always been. Nathan has always been my biggest supporter, the friend who loved me through anything.

  Except his own pride, apparently.

  Is he okay? What if something has happened to him?

  Stop it. Stop worrying about him.

  I called Alex the day I left. I explained that we had broken up and asked him to watch over Nathan for me. He promised me he would, but is he?

  Is Alex looking after him? My stomach twists. I know that nobody looks after Nathan as well as I do.

  He needs me.

  But then I remember that maybe he doesn’t, maybe this is his ticket out. And just maybe, he’s happy that I left. I let my mind go to the dark place it likes to visit at 3 a.m. and I wonder if he’s called Robert. He called him as a friend for all these years, yet he can’t even check in on me now.

  I’m alone in a city where he knows that I know nobody.

  It hurts to realize that he doesn’t care, and even if he does, he’s too proud to call me anyway.

  I fear the worst for us, I thought he would’ve called me by now and we would talk and work this out without being blinded by each other. I thought that once sex was taken off the table, he would be forced to open up to me. I honestly believed that he would need to look at things through my eyes.

  Guess I was wrong.

  The more time that passes, the sadder I get.

  I thought the day I left San Fran was the worst day and that it couldn’t possibly get any worse. I was wrong. Losing a little more faith in someone every day is insidious.

  The toxic poison of lost dreams and hopes is seeping into my bones.

  The taste of disappointment runs through my veins.

  I’m questioning everything: who I am, who he is, if he ever loved me. Perhaps I imagined the whole thing because no one could ever be this cold to someone they truly cared about. Ten years together, and now it’s like we never existed.

  I didn’t just lose my love. That would be bearable. That would be recoverable. I lost my best friend. I lost a part of myself. My identity as a person has somehow been altered. I need to get it back because I don’t want to live in a world where my best friend doesn’t care.

  A man comes into the café carrying a bunch of roses, and he orders a coffee. He’s in a suit and looks professional.

  I watch him wit
h a sad smile. Are those for his wife? Is it their anniversary? I watch him talking and laughing with the cashier. He seems so happy.

  I blink to stop the tears. I would give anything to feel happy again.

  I’m sick of fucking crying.

  I’ve been doing it for nine days now since this all began.

  This isn’t who I am.

  Nathan

  I close my eyes as I put the key into the door.

  I hate coming home.

  Coming home to an empty house is the worst kind of torture. It reminds me of what I don’t have. It hits me straight in the face as I walk in the door to a cold and lonely apartment without of the aroma of a home-cooked meal or Eliza’s infectious smile.

  The house is deathly silent.

  I throw my keys on the sideboard and go straight to the bar to pour myself a scotch—my only friend and constant companion. I’ve found if I drink enough, I can sleep.

  With a shaky hand, I sip my scotch as I walk out into the kitchen with the bottle, Eliza’s unopened letter sits on the bench where she left it. It’s taunting me, begging to be read.

  It’s this little game I play with myself every night. I call it the wheel of torture.

  I sit at the counter, drink in hand, as I stare at the letter. It taunts me with words unsaid.

  But I can’t read it. I will never read it.

  Because she didn’t love me enough to stay and fight, and I loved her too much to let her go.

  But she went anyway.

  So, it doesn’t matter.

  I tip my head back and drain my drink before I pour another immediately. I feel the heat of the spirit rolling down my throat.

  I’m done with love. I never want to feel this bad again.

  I get my laptop and I open it up to click on the history.

  Find My Phone.

  I switch it on and type in Eliza’s phone number. I watch the little red dot light up the screen. It blinks, the beat strong and consistent.