by Sarah White
“Noah,” Leah says softly. I turn around. “This is Lyle. Lyle, this is my friend Noah.” I swallow down the bile that rises in my throat and reach my hand out to shake his. I should say something like, ‘it’s nice to meet you’ or ‘it’s great you made it here safe,’ but really I want to punch him in the face and tell him to go home.
Leah turns back to him and quietly says, “I just need to grab a few things and then we can stay at my place.” I don’t have to look at him to know that he is smiling at her words. I unlock my door and hold it open for her as she steps inside. Her eyes never leave mine and I know she is waiting for me to tell her it’s okay, but I can’t. It’s not okay. I love her and she is going to walk out of my life.
I stand out in the hallway while she packs her bag. Lyle looks uncomfortable and tries not to make eye contact.
“Listen,” I say as I tuck my hands into my pockets, “Leah is a friend of mine and I care about her. It’s not my business what’s going on with you two, but I do know one thing: either you love her or you don’t. That makes you either the luckiest man alive or the biggest fool. Don’t break her heart. Figure out what you want and then either fight for her or let her go.” Lyle opens his mouth to respond, but the door creaks open and Leah steps out between us.
I can feel Leah looking at Lyle and I quizzically as we stare each other down.
“Noah, I’ll come by in the morning to get the rest of my things.” I don’t trust myself to speak so I just nod and step into my apartment, closing the door softly behind me. I stand still in the entryway and wait until I hear her door close, then head straight for the liquor with the hope that its slow burn will help take away the sting of my broken heart.
Chapter 29
Leah
Lyle wanders around my living room, and I realize that it doesn’t even feel like my place anymore. We could both easily be visitors here now that I’ve had the experience of living next door. The newly painted walls are stark, white and bare. Noah’s walls have personality—a smudge here and there from where something has brushed up against them. The sharp smell of bleach and glue lingers in the air around us. The place feels sterile and unwelcoming.
“This place is…nice,” Lyle says. He turns to face me and I find myself taking a step back.
“Thanks,” I manage. I used to love this man, but right now the only feeling in my heart is the ache from watching Noah shut that door. I didn’t have a chance to explain that I just needed time alone with Lyle to tell him I’ve changed my mind. Short of saying it in the hallway, I was left with no other choice but to let Noah think I had chosen to be with Lyle.
“I need to grab a towel,” I say, backing out of the room. I take a towel from the linen closet and wrap the ends of my hair so I’m not dripping all over the new carpet. I find myself facing the wall that separates my apartment from Noah’s and I badly want to know what’s happening on the other side.
“Leah, did I miss something?” Lyle comes up behind me in the hallway. I turn to face him and nod my head slowly. I’m not going to lie to him.
“I’m not sure what yet, but it’s something.” My voice sounds stronger than I feel as I cross my arms and lean against the wall. “We need to talk. Let me get out of this wet dress and I’ll be out in a minute. I think there might still be a few drinks in the fridge, but I’m not sure.” He hesitates a minute and puts his hands in his pockets before turning to make his way back into the living area.
In my bedroom I strip out of my wet dress and dry myself off. Most of my clothes are still at Noah’s, but I find a pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt. I take a minute to wipe the makeup off my face, although the sprinklers have washed most of it away. My hair is a tangled mess but I don’t want to take the time to fix it so I just twist it into a loose bun at the base of my neck.
I steel myself for the talk and go out to face Lyle. He’s sitting on the new couch with his duffle bag on the floor beside him. I indicate the glass of water he’s poured for himself.
“I haven’t had a chance to stock up on groceries yet.” I say apologetically. I make my way over to him and sit at the opposite end of the sofa, grabbing a pillow and holding it in my lap. “I’m sorry you drove all the way here, Lyle. When we talked last, I was in a different place. I was going to call you tomorrow morning and let you know it would be best if you didn’t make the trip. I guess your surprise was a little more of a surprise than you meant it to be.”
He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, dropping his eyes to the floor. “Are you saying that you don’t want us to try to work things out? Is it because of that guy?” He gestures in the direction of Noah’s place.
“Yes and no. I think I’d eventually have reached this decision regardless, but I’ll admit that spending time with Noah has helped me to see the faults in our relationship a little more clearly.” I can see that Lyle is hurt and that makes my own heart clench. “I loved you. For a long time it was just you; my whole world revolved around you. Lately I’ve been experiencing what it would be like not to be dependent on a relationship, but to be a partner in one.”
“You haven’t known him long enough to be in love, Leah. It’s just a rebound thing. Trust me. I know how fun it is to hook up with—” I put my hand up before he can finish. I shake my head no and drop my eyes to the pillow.
“I don’t want to hear about any of that. I think maybe we’d just be falling back on our relationship because it’s familiar. I know you, or knew you. We don’t share the same dreams anymore and I’m not interested in starting over every time you think you want to take a break. You broke my heart, which was your first mistake. The second was breaking me down so far that I needed someone to help me pick up the pieces.” He leans back.
“So just like that we’re finished? We have a history, Leah.” I can’t tell if he’s angry or desperate, but neither is going to get him anywhere with me. My heart is next door and there’s nothing he can do about that.
“We were finished a long time ago, Lyle. I just didn’t want to believe it. Our history is just that, history. I love the memories I have with you, but they’re not enough of a foundation to build a future.” He looks me in the eyes and I can see the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he tries to contain his emotion. Outside I hear a door open and close, then the sound of footsteps as they hit the stairs. I know without looking that it’s Noah, but I need to finish this conversation so I can move on with my life. The ties to Lyle need to be cut because there’s no room in any relationship I have with Noah, whether it be friendly or romantic, for Lyle to be there.
“Now what?” he asks without any anger.
“Now we get some sleep and tomorrow I’ll move on with my life and you’ll go back home to yours. We had a good run.” It’s obvious that this is not what he wanted to hear, but even if he doesn’t realize it now, I’m sure there must be a part of him that’s relieved. He can move on without the heavy baggage of the broken ex-girlfriend. That has to be a little freeing.
“Are you going to start seeing this Noah guy?” Lyle asks. I hesitate for a minute and then shrug my shoulders. I’m really not sure where Noah and I stand. I want so badly to believe that the things Noah said at dinner are going to come true. I’m hoping he was serious about believing in working to make love long-lasting and wanting to share his life with someone again.
“I’d like to. We’ve been getting to know each other over the last few weeks. I’m not sure if it’s going anywhere, but I’d like to give it a shot.” I watch Lyle suck in a breath and know that my honesty has wounded him. He closes his eyes and it dawns on me that I have no desire to reach out to him. My mind flashes to the couples from Noah’s videos. We have just become the statistic I fought so hard to deny.
“I don’t think I can stay here tonight.” Lyle’s voice is flat. “I’m going to stop off at Tony’s, maybe crash there before I head home.” He stands up and I do the same. There’s an awkward moment when we aren’t sure what to do, but finally he p
ulls me into a hug and I don’t resist. I needed this conversation, and I needed to know he and I would be okay. I may not want him in my life as a partner, but we have too much history not to part as friends.
“Drive safe. Oh! Wait just a second.” I fetch his father’s knife out of a nearly empty drawer in the kitchen. It is the last reason we have to see each other, so handing it over to him feels very liberating. I see him out, and with a small wave and a pained smile, he walks away. I close the door once he is out sight and lean my back up against it, listening to the silence. I wonder where Noah went and when he might be back. There’s no way I could ever fall asleep right now, so I retrieve the video out of my bag that I took from the stack at Noah’s, thinking I might as well use this time to get some coding work done.
The video begins with a shot of the couple sitting close together on the couch, but their proximity doesn’t feel natural. My heart twinges with the thought that they are trying to capture something that has already been lost. Noah is their therapist and he begins by asking how their week has been. It worries me when the woman fidgets and begins wringing her hands in her lap. This isn’t just any couple; it’s the couple I was counting on to make it. I’ve seen all of their videos and until now, I thought they would be the ones that would help me prove Noah’s theory wrong. Their body language says a lot before they even speak: her shoulders are slumped and the man clears his throat and slowly turns away from her.
“Why don’t you start, Joe?” Noah prompts.
The man looks down before raising his eyes to meet Noah’s. “We had another fight. It was a big one.” It’s clear from his facial expression that he is holding back anger and frustration, and tears begin to flow down the woman’s cheeks. Joe turns and looks at his partner but instead of reaching out to her, he readjusts his position and throws an arm over the back of the couch, leaning away from her.
“Tell me about it.” Noah’s voice sounds professional and unemotional but I know that watching couples break up is not easy.
“I just can’t do this anymore,” Joe says, sounding defeated. “I came to counseling because we agreed we would be honest with each other, but maybe I haven’t been honest with myself.” He looks to Noah, and continues when Noah nods. “There’s nothing left. We aren’t who we were when we started dating. I want to go out and have fun; she likes to stay home and read. I want to work hard to make money so we can have great things; she argues that all that work makes our things seem trivial.”
The woman, Lucy, wipes at her face and reaches for a tissue. She twists her body away and settles in the corner of the sofa opposite Joe. I feel like screaming at them, but I know it wouldn’t do any good. She cuts in, “We used to see our differences as strengths, but now they are just perpetual and ever so apparent all the time. We are completely different people. Now that the spark is dying down,” she glances briefly at her partner and he nods his head in agreement, “we’re finding we aren’t even good friends.”
There it is. The moment they could have reached out to each other. They could have fought to get the spark back, or to find common ground from which to build a friendship. It is a choice, but they don’t choose it.
Noah is quiet for a long moment. Please, Noah, I think. Please, do something to fix this. But it’s not his job to fix anything—they have to do it themselves. I see my hope for my future relationships vanishing before my eyes. “What is the goal for us this session?” Noah asks, as if he already knows what they will say.
“We’ve already figured out how to separate our belongings,” Lucy answers. “What we need help with is knowing how to get through this. What do we do to move forward? What do we tell our families?” She reaches for another tissue, clearly hurting over the thought of letting go of all they have built. Noah says nothing, knowing that they need to keep talking.
The man smiles at her, but it isn’t warm with love, it is just a small gesture of understanding. “We have a lot of shared friends, you know.” His voice is clear as he begins to map out how he thinks things should go. “I can be around her, but I don’t think I can handle hearing about anyone new right now.” She sighs as if finding someone new is the last thing on her mind.
“Really?” She huffs. He rolls his eyes and holds a hand out as if to show Noah that her emotions are another reason he can’t stay in the relationship. “I’m not going to start dating anyone else right now! Let’s just agree that NEITHER of us will bring anyone new around for a while.”
Noah leans forward a little in his seat. “I’m hearing that you are going to end this relationship.” The couple glances quickly at each other, then they both nod their heads. Noah continues, “Then the goal of this session will be termination of our couples’ counseling. We will create a plan for telling your family and friends, perhaps share a few concerns about the aftermath and then I’m going to give you each three referrals to individual therapists.”
The couple seems shocked at his blunt words and for a moment it almost seems like they will argue with him.
“If you really want,” Noah offers, “We can have more sessions where I act as a mediator to help you divide up the life you have created together, but in the end your break-up experience is going to be an individual process. If you really think you can work together to make this easy on each other, if you care enough about one another to put aside your feelings and sacrifice for the other’s happiness, then I have to wonder why you aren’t going to use that energy to work on your relationship.”
I have never heard him speak to a couple like this, but I know he isn’t angry with them, just practical. He looks to both of them again and then calmly repeats, “So what is our goal going to be this session?”
Joe looks into Lucy’s eyes and says, “She can tell our friends and family whatever she wants. You’re right. I don’t have the energy to spend one more day in this relationship, fixing it or coming to counseling to try not to hurt each other. I want to move on. I don’t want to waste one more day feeling this alone. Our goal for this session is termination.” I wait for the woman’s response, knowing that when she agrees, all my arguments for relationships working long term are going to blow up in my face. She slowly brings her eyes to Noah’s and nods her head.
A tear runs down my cheek, but I wipe it away and complete the coding task. I have the final lines of the script memorized and mouth the words as Noah recites them. “Thank you very much for participating in this study. We hope you have gained some insight into your relationship and wish you luck in your future.”
This is not the first time one of the couples from the videos has decided to end their relationship—in fact, most of them go their separate ways. Noah has told me there are couples in his study that are married, even a few with kids, but the numbers are still working out to prove his theory correct. Maybe it’s because of the timing, or because I really thought this couple would make it, but this one affects me deeply. Maybe Noah’s theory is true.
I set my pencil down and stand up from my position on the floor next to the couch. Systematically I shut down the TV and DVD player, then find a blanket in the hall closet. I make my way back to the living room and turn out the lights. In the darkness, I curl up on the couch and wrap the blanket over me. With the weight of the world on my shoulders, I close my eyes tight and pray that sleep will come soon.
Chapter 30
Noah
The beat of the music pounds from the speakers around the bar. I’m trying hard to forget about what Leah might be doing right now, but as soon as I push one image from my mind another comes floating in. The five shots of whiskey didn’t clear them out, so I’ve moved on to a steady flow of beer. I’m hopeful that eventually I’ll be too drunk to care anymore, or maybe even passed out.
Mandy rubs up against me. The place is packed with far too many people, and we’re pressed to the bar by the swarm of bodies around us. She reaches up and kisses my lips and I feel nothing. It’s more than being physically numb from the alcohol, although that is defi
nitely happening; I’ve felt numb since the moment Leah took Lyle into her apartment and closed the door.
The crowd shifts abruptly and a girl is shoved into my side. I laugh at how ridiculous this whole scene is. I hate this. I want to be at home with Leah, not out in an inebriated crowd being pushed around. Mandy gets pissed when the girl doesn’t remove herself quickly enough. She grabs my hand and pulls me toward the exit.
“Let’s get out of here,” she shouts above the music.
“No, I don’t want to go home yet. Let’s have a couple more drinks.”
“Noah, you’re stumbling as it is. If you drink any more you won’t even remember your own name. How are you going to make it home?” She’s got a point. I nod and follow her out of the bar.
It’s a good thing I live close by, because neither of us is in any condition to drive. I begin the walk to my place on autopilot, letting my hand slide from hers. I fight the urge to wipe it on my pants. It doesn’t feel right touching her, and that makes me laugh without humor. I’ve never had that problem before, but now that I’ve held Leah’s hand in mine it’s the only one I want. Mandy tries not to act offended.
When we reach my building I get a sick feeling in my stomach. I don’t know if I can spend the night here knowing they’re together on the other side of the wall. When Mandy sees me hesitate, she grabs my arm and pulls it over her shoulder.
“Come on. I’ll help you up the steps,” she offers, steering me toward them.
“You know what? Why don’t we go to your place. We could call a cab.” I reach for my cell phone, but she stops me.
“Noah, what’s the matter with you?” She laughs. “We’re right here. Let’s go inside.”
I don’t want this. I don’t want her here, but I’m the one who called her to come out tonight and I’m in no shape to see her home safely. Against my better judgment, I take hold of the railing to help get my footing before beginning the half-hike, half-stumble up the stairs.