by Ana Simons
“No, Liv, what’s really stupid is the fact you didn’t even consider the possibility I’d never do that to you,” I say without even looking at her.
“We should leave it at that, what’s the point? It’s all water under the bridge. I don’t want you to feel awkward; and honestly, I don’t need any lame excuses either. It’s been ages, who cares now?”
“Lame excuses?! You have to be bloody joking!” I finally turn to face her. “So let me see if I got this right: some moron I don’t even remember told you... no, wait! It’s crazier than that!
“Some random chick told you she’d heard some guy boasting he was going to have his way with you? The hottest and wildest ride between-the-sheets. And he came to such a conclusion because?
“Of course, I’d bragged about it. That’s what all guys do: tout their own accomplishments to one-up their mates! Right?”
Fury has filled my mind and a wave of sheer anger is rippling through me. No, something fiercer than anger, a feeling of absolute disappointment and rage all swirling around at the same time.
“Why would I keep it to myself and not spill it all out? Run my mouth about shagging some hot girl? I’m a narcissistic son of a bitch as it is – why wouldn’t I want the other guys to know about it and admire me? Why wouldn’t I play that card? It would surely raise me a few rungs higher on the cool guys’ ladder!”
Easy, you’re losing it.
“I really don’t appreciate the sarcasm, Brian.”
Oh, sod it. I’ve got shit to say!
“Oh, you don’t appreciate the sarcasm. I’m so sorry,” I blurt out with an extra dose of irony charging my tone. “Then this guy tells me he wants to be the next in line to stick his tongue into your throat and screw your brains out and, obviously, I say ‘Go for it!’? I was leaving the next day anyway and you were just a summer fling! Like I cared, right?”
“Brian, stop.”
She tries to hold my hand and calm me down, but I brush it away. Leaning in, I tell her with a deep harsh voice, “And all that crap made perfect sense in that crazy head of yours, correct?”
“Please.”
“Damn you, Olivia!”
She casts her gaze down, a long, uncomfortable pause falling between us.
“For Christ’s sake, that’s not nearly strong enough of a reason to do what you did: writing a bloody text telling me it was over? Not having the decency to say it looking at me? Or even worse, not giving me any chance to defend myself?
“I begged you to come and talk to me that night! I waited for you like an idiot on that beach. I waited way longer than you apparently deserved!”
“Oh, God.” She rubs her forehead nervously, the realisation she acted upon a lie hitting her hard.
“Goddammit, I wasn’t just a boyfriend! I was much more than that, I’d been your friend since... forever! You should have known me better than that!”
“I… I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.” She sinks into the couch. “But put yourself in my place for a moment. What would you feel if–”
“I’m trying, I’m trying really hard. But it’s difficult. Someone spouted some insane gibberish and you simply shut me out?” I throw my hands up into the air, frustrated. “You were never a two-month plummet, I was there for the long haul already. I thought you knew that.
“Loving you was just so easy: you were my friend, the one who knew me so damn well, who kept me grounded and balanced me out, my safe harbour, the calmest place in my life... The one I respected and trusted and would never, ever do anything to hurt.
“Probably I felt all those things because I was too young and immature, I don’t know. All I know is that, even despite the distance, you were always with me; there were no empty spaces or tiny cracks, we were in synch with one another... Until that day. The day I learned the person you love the most is also the one who can hurt you the worst.
“Yeah, I felt hurt, betrayed, and abandoned, if you care to know.”
I’ve just realised now that I’ve been pacing this room like a madman; this is consuming me in a way that goes way beyond my control. I have always kept this anger to myself – typical, I know, men don’t like to share their feelings, we’d rather let them eat up our souls – but, finally, after years of ruminating about it, I’m getting it all off my chest. If it is as liberating and cathartic as they say, I have my serious doubts: tearing the scars of these old wounds is hurting like hell.
I finally bring myself to sit down and take a deep breath.
Giving her a stern look, I ask, “Again, who’s this so-called best friend of yours who slipped you that nonsense?”
She comes closer and holds my hands between hers. “Please, Brian. You’ve already made your point...”
She’s fighting back the tears, but my raw-edged nerves have totally taken me over. I feel we’re getting to a point of no return, but I do need to go all the way down to the bottom of this. No loose ends, no more unanswered questions. This ends today.
“No, Olivia. We’re cleaning up the whole mess now.” I stand, and her startled eyes follow mine.
“Remember Laura?” she asks.
“Who the hell is that?”
“That girl who used to live down the street? The one who wanted to go to the London University of the Arts?”
“The clingy, barking mad pseudo artist chick who was already knocking on my door before breakfast? Who was so bitchy even your dog rolled his eyes?” I chuckle, a loud bitter chuckle of contempt. “That’s the Good Samaritan who came to your rescue, to warn you against me? Oh, for Christ’s sake…”
“Why would she make that up? That makes no sense either. And why would you be so different from the other guys, who only had one thing on their minds?”
“Oh boy, this just can’t get any better!” I let out another sarcastic chuckle, filled with nothing else but bitter resentment. “Sweetie, let me explain two things. First: men are territorial beasts; they don’t like to share anything, much less a woman. Second: behind your back, that friend of yours was always all over me like a bad rash! Did I bonk her? No, I didn’t. Did that piss her off? Immensely.”
There’s shock written all over her face. “No.”
“So much for sisterhood, eh?”
This woman is driving me insane, seriously. There’s this deep ache in my chest and I’m feeling more torn than ever. I need to leave immediately.
That or my head will explode.
“You know what’s the sad irony of all this?” I ask her as I walk towards the door. “In the end, your friend didn’t get what she wanted, but she managed to win anyway.”
“Where are you going? Please, don’t go. I need to ask you something else.”
“I don’t think there’s anything else to be said. At least not today. Maybe some other time. In another ten years if it suits you.”
She winces. “Hey, don’t you put all the blame on me! Neither of us is innocent. The way I reacted might have been silly and immature, I’ll give you that, but I did try to reach out to you, to talk things over.”
“When? Are you talking about when you showed up a year later, wanting to chat away as if nothing had happened?”
“Yes, that Christmas. I know you were home but didn’t bother to come down to see me. And the following year too. I went to see you again, but you were upstairs with some new girlfriend. I left as quickly as I could, but I’m sure your sister told you I’d been there.
“Now, did you call me back? Did you look for me? Did you answer to any of my texts? No, you didn’t! Didn’t I deserve an opportunity to be heard? For the sake of that long friendship you just mentioned? I probably did!”
It’s all true, but I don’t care. I’m seething, filled with a mix of anger and frustration I can barely control. I just want to get the hell out of here and not have to look at her face anytime soon.
I pace the entrance hall towards the lift with quick strides and push the call button, hard, way harder and more times than necessary.
; Olivia runs after me and shouts, “But is it true?”
“Yeah, sometimes I wish I was psychic too. I have no clue what you’re talking about. Honestly, I can’t read your mind, you have to be more explicit. And quickly, the lift is coming.” Sometime this week. Oh boy, this old shitheap is moaning and shrieking and again taking an eternity to arrive and I’m about to go bonkers here.
“You’re being such an arse!”
“So shoot me!”
“What you wrote on that card? Is it true?”
“What card?”
“The flower card.”
The sooner I accept the grim reality, the better. I need to let go, if possible, with some dignity. Or with what’s left of it.
“That was a mistake, Olivia. I apologise if I caused you any inconvenience.”
Finally, the cranky old lift announces itself with a mechanical hydraulic screaming, and I pull the door open.
“Goodbye, Olivia.”
With my heart beating wildly, I tilt my head slightly and glance at her out of the corner of my eye. I think she’s crying.
I swallow back the taste of hurt, nearly choking on it, but resolutely step in, telling myself that I’m not going to look back ever again.
23 FREE FALLING
HERE’S THE GREATEST title in the history of self-help literature: F*ck Feelings. No idea what it preaches, but my sister was reading it the other day and right now the two words do make perfect sense together.
I’ve got a pain in my chest the size of Siberia, and it’s consuming me in a way I didn’t think possible. I’m so stupid! Truly, what on earth was I thinking? Coming all the way down here for this? For someone I haven’t seen in ages, who’s certifiably crazy and hates me with all her heart?
This is an effing nightmare; I should just start slapping some sense into myself. That, or hammer all these bloody buttons instead.
Why aren’t you moving, you old piece of junk?
I give another furious punch on the button board, but the damned thing responds with a little jerk as if it doesn’t want to go down either.
Okay, let’s try this agai–
“No, wait!” Olivia says loudly from outside, then pulls the lift door open and jumps inside.
“What are you doing here?” I ask harshly, fighting to keep my composure. “Seriously, I’m in no mood for your crazy talk!”
“Don’t go. Please.”
“What possible good reason is there for me to stay? Want to make me feel even worse? Trust me, I feel bad enough already.”
“I need to tell you something.”
“Then, do it. This shit is so slow you may actually finish before we get all the way down.”
“Can’t we go back inside?”
“No, we can’t. I’m done talking to you and I really think you should go now. Forget I came here and move on with your life. I’ll try to do the sam–”
“You make me nervous too.” She tugs at my hand and lays it on her chest. It’s thumping hard inside. “Jesus, the moment I saw you that day when you left for New York, my heart almost skipped a beat. And then again at the wedding, it wouldn’t stop racing.
“My God, that day! There you were, after all those years, smiling, so handsome and charming. It felt as if the ground was taken from beneath my feet.
“You were sitting a few rows in front of me, and I spent the whole ceremony looking at you, thinking about what to tell you, how to react once you stood before me. The sheer thought of meeting you again, of talking to you almost made me dizzy, with an awful fluttery feeling I barely managed to keep under control... Well, handsome is an understatement, you really look good... And then when we talk, I crumble. I find myself struck dumb; I either sound rude or mentally deranged. The words get all mixed up or I open my mouth and there’s a flood of nonsense coming out... Like right now, for example, I don’t know what I’m saying anymore.
“I’m so sorry. For everything… All I know is that when you’re around I’m a quivering pile of clumsy jitters, that’s the truth. And it’s exciting and engulfing. Also wild, uncontrollable, overwhelming. Way too many things at the same time. Way more than I can deal with right now.”
Sweetheart...
“I’m a wreck, Brian. I feel like I’m on a road heading straight for disaster, and the worst is that I don’t know if I want to turn back or keep going. I spend my days replaying that weekend in my mind, daydreaming about the moment I get to see you again, imagining that you take me to dance again... and wishing you could be around to snuggle with me on the couch as we watch all Hugh Grant’s movies together. Yes, I’ve seen them all this past week. ‘Notting Hill’, twice already. It’s a blinking disgrace.”
I place a hand on her shoulder. “But, Olivia–”
“Let me finish. Please.” She shakes off my hand. “And I wake up and go to sleep thinking of you. I spend all my waking hours missing you. I wanted to see you again so badly – and not anytime soon. Not in a month or week. Not in an hour. I wanted to see you, like, right now. But then I start to think, oh, I’ll be damned if I let myself fall into some bloody whirlwind again and keep telling myself it has to stop. Like you said, I’m an adult, intelligent woman, goddammit! It should have stopped already!
“Except that, it hasn’t. And now it’s like a wave crashing over me, keeping me off-balance and it’s consuming me in a way that is beyond my willpower. And I really don’t know what to do with it, with this gut-wrenching mix of pain and fear and excitement because I know beforehand it will rip me apart.
“Shit! I shouldn’t have gone to the damn wedding, I shouldn’t have let it happen. Because you’re a problem I don’t really need in my life right now.”
Yes, you do.
“But isn’t it ironic? The moment I feel I’m getting back on my feet again, that I accept it’s better to be alone, even if a bit lonely sometimes, than in a soul-sucking relationship that’s taking me nowhere, life sends me you? For Christ’s sake, of all the men in the world, why would I want to fall for you all over again? God, fate or the bloody universe, or whatever forces are out there, they’re all merciless beasts with a very twisted sense of humour, I’m telling you! Because I’m perfectly aware, Brian – I know exactly what kind of life you’ve been living.”
“Liv–”
“Now look at me and tell me, do I need another playboy to break my heart? No, I don’t. I’ve had my share already! I need someone willing to respect me, to support me, to connect with me on a deeper level. Not another daft prick who’s stuck in his ego and can’t take me seriously.”
I don’t want to be that either.
“It feels like I was on the edge of a cliff, under a dark wide sky, finally determined to face my fear of heights, listening to the ocean roar, watching for stars to streak across the firmament.
“But then, the moment I spread my arms and close my eyes to feel the wind brush against my face, some stupid moron comes unnoticed from behind and pushes me. And now I’m free falling. Hard. Uncontrolled.
“And I’m so scared because I don’t know what to do when I hit the water. It’s dark! And if it is as they say, it will be as hard as cement and it will crush me. Or I’ll drown because I won’t have the strength to pull myself out, that’s what will happen.
“So I’m stuck now in a situation that is as broad as it’s long, and I’m feeling absolutely miserable. Because I want you out of my head, but no part of me wants you to leave. Because I want to be in your arms, but reason tells me to stay away from them. Because my broken heart, regardless if you leave or not today, will love you anyway... If this makes any sense... Shit, I’m babbling like crazy again...”
She folds her arms across her chest, as if bracing herself. “Aren’t you going to say anything? Please.”
My eyes are locked with hers and the brief silence that follows is powerful and intense. She’s waiting for my reaction, but the only truth is that I’m frozen, still fumbling for the right words in my mind.
“Brian?” My name comes ou
t in a smothered murmur followed by a sigh of apparent resignation, “You’re leaving anyway, aren’t you?” she asks, her voice emotion-choked. She closes her eyes, probably trying to internalise the possibility that her words haven’t affected me as much as she hoped.
My heart begins to hammer hard against my chest, my body surging with emotion as I reach up my hands to frame her face. I stare intently into her eyes, hoping she finds the truth behind mine.
That I’m not the kind of man she thinks I’ve become.
That leaving is the last thing I want.
That it’s always been her. Even knowing she’d never be mine, it’s always been her.
The next thing I know I’m holding her face steadily in my hands to crush my lips against hers. “I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.” And I kiss her again, hard, hungrily, pushing her back against the metallic wall and pinning her there with my body, breathing her name against her skin, letting her know I’m scared too – she’s not alone anymore.
The intense emotion that swirls through my veins is both special and exhilarating; I haven’t told her yet, but she should know she’s the only thing that matters in the entire world, a realisation that is frightening and exciting at the same time.
She clasps her hands at the back of my neck, buries her fingers in my hair, pulling it, pulling me against her, eagerly, with a desire that matches my own. And my body pulses, my mouth demands more from hers, and she claims me with the exact intensity I wished she would, our tongues stroking into a deep and demanding kiss, my senses reeling with the feel of her lips against mine, my emotions drenching me like a breaking tide.
I hear her breath catching, hitching and her body shudders as I bend further down to nuzzle against her neck, kissing it, sucking the tantalising soft skin, her scent gripping me, making my heart race and pound. I believe neither of us wants the moment to end.
I pull back and gasp for air. Her face is flushed, her lips parted in a way that makes me crazy. My eyes linger over her lips and then drop to study the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the swell of her breasts and every inch of her exposed shoulders, which I trail with kisses up until my mouth covers hers again, our breath mingling, our tongues intertwining in another passionate kiss.