Our Way

by Swan, T L

  “We will have two margaritas with Agave top-shelf tequila, please,” he says.

  I clench my jaw. I hate that he knows my drinks. “I don’t want to drink with you.” I bark.

  “Fine. I’ll drink both.” He snaps.

  The waitress raises her eyebrows as if surprised by my bitch antics, and I clench my jaw. I give her my best, You don’t know the whole story look.

  He’s a jerk, okay?

  I twist my fingers on my lap. I don’t want to blurt out nasty things so I’ll just stay as quiet as I can.

  His eyes come to mine, and he smiles softly. “It’s good to see you, Lize.”

  I clench my teeth shut and give a curt nod.

  It’s so good to see you.

  His brow furrows as if he’s searching for the right thing to say. “You’ve lost a lot of weight.”

  “Couple of kilos. I’ve been going to the gym.”

  He fakes a smile and scratches his head.

  “You wanted to talk, so talk,” I say.

  “Did you mean it? The letter?”

  I shake my head as disappointment fills me. “I can’t believe you didn’t read it until now.”

  “Neither can I.” He sighs. “I just… .” his voice trails off.

  “You just, what Nathan?”

  “I didn’t handle things as well as I could have.”

  “You think?”

  We stare at each other, and I know that this is it: my moment of truth where I need to say all the things I didn’t say before. I have so many regrets, and I need to be honest now, or forever hold my peace.

  “Neither did I, Nathe. This isn’t all your fault. I’m to blame as well.” I shrug sadly. “I shouldn’t have left a letter. I should have said it to your face.”

  “Can you say it now?”

  “It’s too late.” I sigh. “It won’t mean the same now as it did then so just forget it.”

  We stare at each other and sadness rolls over me. It really is too late for us.

  There is nothing left to say that can erase the hurt between us.

  He takes my hand in his and rests it on my thigh. “Please.” He closes his eyes as if steeling himself to hear it. “Eliza, you said you’d wait forever.”

  I get a lump in my throat. Seeing him in the flesh brings it all back. The happiness, the heartache, and everything in between.

  “I wanted you to know that I understood that you needed time, and that as your friend, I wanted to give it to you.”

  His eyes hold mine. “Why would you say that?” he asks softly.

  “Because I was watching you struggle.”

  He squeezes my hand in his as if prompting me to speak openly. “How was I struggling?”

  “Nathe.” I smile over at the beautiful man in front of me. I know it’s too late for us but I still adore him. “You were going along as normal, and then all of a sudden you got these feelings of attraction for me. And you acted on them almost instantly.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Oh, what, you waited a few weeks?”

  “That was a long time not telling you, Lize.”

  “Anyway, my point is that once we were together and in love—and I do know that you loved me—it was full speed ahead. But I also knew that you wouldn’t leave me, and that, even if you had feelings for Robert, you would never have left me for him. That’s not the kind of person you are.”

  His brow furrows as we stare at each other.

  “I wanted to give you a choice, Nathan.”

  “Why?” He whispers.

  “Because ten years being your best friend has taught me one thing: your happiness was more important to me than our relationship.” I get a lump in my throat. “I could never let you give up your happiness for mine. I loved you too much for that.”

  He drops his head.

  “And then you wouldn’t talk to me when I was terrified that I was pregnant.”

  He closes his eyes in regret.

  I squeeze his hand. “It’s okay, Nathan. I understand.”

  His eyes shoot back up to mine. “You understand what?”

  “I know why you had to force me to leave you.”

  “Eliza, I never meant to make you leave me. Just the opposite.” He pauses for a moment as he collects his thoughts. “When Jolie said those things to me… ” His voice trails off.

  “What?” I prompt him to continue.

  “I don’t know.” He shakes his head as if unable to articulate himself. “Something happened.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I didn’t shut you out because I wanted Robert. I was devastated by you. I wasn’t able to….” He cuts himself off.

  I squeeze his hand in mine. “What Nathe?”

  “How could you think that I would use you for children?” His eyes search mine. “How could you possibly think that? You know me. Better than anyone else, you know me.”

  Oh God, he’s still hurt about this.

  He clenches his jaw. “I couldn’t get my head around it, Eliza. I still can’t. It was the most hurtful thing that anyone has ever thought of me.”

  Guilt fills me. “Nathe, I knew that deep down. I was looking for a reason. I wasn’t afraid of you. I was afraid of me. I knew that I wouldn’t be okay if we didn’t work out. And I was right, I wasn’t.”

  We stare at each other, and deep regret swirls between us. He dusts his thumb back and forth over the back of my hand. “So, you’re with Morgan now?”

  “No.” I roll my eyes. “Tonight, was the first time I’ve seen him since I left. You’re with Robert?” I ask.

  “I’m not with Robert!” he snaps, annoyed. “How many times do I have to fucking tell you that?”

  “But you’ve been with Robert?”

  “Not physically, no. I’ve seen him but not how you think.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Ibiza was a nightmare. We were never going to work if we got back together. That was done ten years ago. And besides, we fight every time we see each other now.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he came to our home to upset you and it worked. You left me.”

  “What about Stephanie?”

  “I haven’t touched either of them, I swear on my mother’s life,” he growls in frustration.

  “Who have you been with?” I know I shouldn’t ask but the masochist in me wants some pain.

  “You don’t want to know the answer to that question.” His eyes hold mine.

  That means a lot of people.

  I get a lump in my throat and drop my head. This is why we can’t be together.

  I’m weak as fuck when he’s around.

  He cups my cheek in his hand and brings my face up to his. “But it cemented something for me.”

  His eyes search mine.

  “It’s you Eliza. It’s always been you. And I know that my love for you started out platonic, but you have owned me since the day we met.”

  We stare at each other and, God, I want to take back the last six months. I want to throw myself into his arms and kiss and make up.

  But I need to have some backbone and stand up for myself. “What are you saying, Nathan?”

  “I love you. I will always love you.”

  I stare at him.

  “I want us to try again.”

  “No.” I shake my head, the hurt all still too raw to even contemplate it. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?’

  “Because I can’t depend on you like I did. It’s not healthy to be as we were, and of course, we failed. It was a car crash waiting to happen. We know each other too well, Nathan.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “I don’t want to get back together.”

  He frowns, and I see a glimmer of his temper hovering just below the surface. “You can’t know each other too well.” He spits. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “I want to be friends,” I announce. “I’m moving back to San Francisco next week.”

  “You’r
e moving home?” he asks hopefully.

  “No, I’ve got my own apartment.”

  He sits back in his seat, affronted. “Well, this is nice, isn’t it?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I come here and lay my heart out for you, and you reject me again anyway.”

  “What?” I snap. “Don’t you dare get angry with me for not jumping back into your arms.” I pick up my drink and take a huge gulp. I’m getting angry, too, now. Does he think I should jump into his arms at the snap of his fingers? “While you’ve been fucking yourself better, I’ve been devastated. So, forgive me for not wanting to jump back into bed with you, Nathan.”

  He rolls his eyes. “How long are you going to throw that in my face for?”

  “You know what?” I stand in a huff. “I’m not. That was the last time.” I turn and storm out of the bar. Who the hell does he think he is?

  Nathan Mercer is still an asshole.

  27

  Eliza

  I march up the sidewalk, toward the cab rank.

  “I can’t believe I wasted my time even talking to him,” I mutter as I storm along. “Comes back here, says a few pretty words, and thinks I should drop to my knees and suck his second-hand dick. How many people has he fucked while we were apart? I’m done. So fucking done with him.” I’m banged hard on the shoulder by a man walking past me. “Ouch.”

  “Sorry,” he calls.

  I keep storming and see the cab rank up ahead. There are two people waiting in line but no cabs. It begins to sprinkle with rain.

  “Oh, great, this is just what I need.”

  How many times are you going to throw that in my face?

  I narrow my eyes as my blood begins to boil, and this is exactly my point.

  Nathan Mercer is a selfish fuckface who only cares about himself.

  “Eliza!” he pants as he reaches me. He must have been running to find me.

  I cross my arms in front of me. “Go away, I have nothing to say to you.”

  “What?” He breathes heavily. “We haven’t finished talking.”

  “Yes, we have.”

  The rain begins to get heavier, and I roll my eyes. Is this for real? It hasn’t rained for weeks, and the one fucking night I’m out without a cab, it decides to come down.

  “Why can’t we try again?” he asks.

  “Because you’re an entitled asshole, that’s why.” I snap.

  “How am I entitled?” He gasps.

  “You break my fucking heart, turn up here and demand I come back to you at the snap of your fingers.”

  “You said you loved me.”

  “I said I loved you back then, asshole.”

  He narrows his eyes. I know he doesn’t like being called an asshole. Well, too bad, because he is. “So, you don’t love me now?”

  “No.” I stare straight ahead. “I don’t, actually.”

  “Liar.”

  “Just go away, Nathan.”

  The rain begins to really come down.

  “Are you fucking serious?” I cry to the Gods. I storm over to stand under an awning, and I take out my phone.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Calling an Uber. What does it look like?”

  “Why are you being such a fucking bitch?” He whispers angrily.

  I lower my phone and glare at him. “Your mouth is too big for your own good.”

  His eyes bulge.

  “You’re an ostrich.” I go back to my phone.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means”—I huff—“that you bury your head in the sand, and that your eyeball is bigger than your fucking brain.”

  “Listen.” He sneers, and the rain really begins to pour down now, bouncing up from the sidewalk and hitting us as we stand under the awning. It’s loud, and we have to yell to hear each other. “Okay, I asked you to come back to me. That doesn’t make me fucking stupid.”

  “No. What makes you stupid is the fact that you think I would come back to you like this.”

  He frowns and opens his mouth to say something, and then shuts it again. I’ve got him.

  I book my Uber, and put my phone back in my handbag.

  “What do you want from me?” he asks.

  “Nothing.”

  “So how do we fix this?”

  “I don’t want to fix this.”

  He puts his hands on his hips. “I’m one minute away from dragging you back into the fucking bar, Eliza. Tell me how to fucking fix this?” He growls in frustration.

  “I’m not looking for a boyfriend, Nathan. You can be my friend but that’s it, and with your track record, I’m not even sure I want you as that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I’ve been in a city where I know nobody for six months, and you haven’t fucking checked on me once. You’re a shitty friend, that’s what.”

  He clenches his jaw as he glares at me.

  “But that’s okay. I know you were busy.” I flick my hair over my collar as I stare straight ahead. I’m going for an Oscar here. I’m being overdramatic but to hell with it. He deserves it.

  “Meaning what?”

  My blood pressure rises to boiling point. “Let’s just say that your last six months look very different from mine.”

  “Okay, right.” He throws his hands up in frustration. “So, let’s put each other through another six months of hell then, shall we? Because proving a fucking point is so much more important than being happy.” He yells as he loses control of himself.

  I roll my eyes. “Go away.”

  “I am away. I’ve flown all this way to see you and you won’t even talk to me.”

  “And there it is again.” I smile to myself with a shake of my head. “Unfucking believable.”

  “What?” he yells. “What’s that supposed to fucking mean?”

  “It’s all about you, Nathan. Everything is all about you. For once…,” I yell, “just fucking once, can you put my wishes before your own?”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want to be friends. Listen to me when I speak. I can’t say it any clearer than that. I want to be friends.”

  “I don’t want you as a fucking friend, Eliza. I want you as my wife!” he shouts.

  What?

  He steps back as if shocked that he just said that out loud.

  “Well, that’s not happening,” I say quietly. “Because at the moment, I only want a friend. Having you as a husband is the very last thing on my mind.”

  His eyes hold mine.

  “Friendship. Take it or leave it,” I say.

  He clenches his jaw. “Leave it.”

  “Like I knew you would.” The Uber pulls up. I get in and slam the door.

  Nathan stands on the sidewalk, his face is murderous, and he glares at me as the car pulls out into the traffic.

  I’m not even joking. Nathan Mercer really is an asshole.

  * * *

  Sleep: the wonder drug. I wish they sold it in bottles.

  I walk down the sidewalk and smile. I’m feeling weirdly relaxed today.

  I don’t feel regret. I don’t feel anxious at all about Nathan’s and my fight last night.

  I feel in control. I feel like myself. Liberated, even.

  Being a bitch is empowering.

  I’ve been to the gym this morning. I did my last grocery shop, and now I’ve just bought another two cheap suitcases to take my extra things home.

  I walk into my building and take the elevator to my floor. My phone pings with a message in my handbag. It’s probably the girls about tonight. I have my farewell dinner tonight at a restaurant, and I’m looking forward to it.

  The elevator doors open. I wheel the empty suitcases down to my apartment and dump them next to my door. I take out my phone to see the text. It’s from Nathan.

  Okay, fine.

  Friends.

  I twist my lips to stop myself from smiling. I reply.

  Thank you.


  Another text bounces in.

  Can we have lunch?

  I roll my eyes. Great. I throw my phone onto the couch and don’t reply. I flick the kettle on. Another text bounces in.

  Friends eat lunches together,

  you know?

  I narrow my eyes. What will I reply with? I put my phone down again. God, he’s going to play on the friend’s thing now, isn’t he?

  Another text bounces in.

  This is your last chance to have lunch with an ostrich before he flies out this afternoon.

  I smile at his ostrich analogy. Okay, he’s going home. There’s no chance of me giving in, and he gets it.

  I text back.

  Fine.

  Where do you want to meet?

  A text comes back.

  What do you feel like?

  Hmm, he’s being nice today.

  Meet me at Hugo’s on 42nd in an hour?

  A reply comes straight back in.

  Sounds good.

  See you then.

  I walk into Hugo’s at 1:00 p.m, and Nathan stands when I arrive. He’s at a table near the window.

  “Hello.” He puts his hand out to shake mine.

  I look at his outstretched hand. Nathan has never shaken my hand apart from the first day we met. Oh God, here we go.

  I shake his hand and fake a smile. “Nice to see you again so soon, Nathan.”

  “Likewise, Eliza.” He smiles sweetly.

  I take a seat, and he sips his coffee. “You ordered already?” I ask.

  “Yes, ” he replies casually. “And I told them that we’ll split the bill.”

  “Okay, good, that makes it easier.” I pick up the menu and look at my choices as I try to hide my smirk. This is him being friends. “What are you having?”

  “The lasagne.”

  Of course, he would have that.

  I look through the choices. “I’ll have the salad. Lasagne is too heavy for me.”

  “You don’t like lasagne anymore?” He asks dryly.

  “Too heavy,” I repeat casually. “Leaves me with a bitter aftertaste.”