Green: a friends to lovers romantic comedy

by Kayley Loring

  “Mom. I would love to visit you. Believe me. But I can’t right now. Can you just answer my question?”

  “Have I been okay? That’s the question? Well, yeah. Isn’t it obvious? I mean. I know it was rough for a while there, at first. Okay, it really sucked at first. Your father was being an idiot for a couple of years. But I got to have another life. It wasn’t what I was looking for at the time, but I’m grateful now. I would never have been able to devote myself to finishing my Masters degree, and having a career. I would never have met so many nice men and found out for certain that I didn’t want to marry them…”

  “How many nice men are we talking about here? No, don’t tell me. But did you wish that Dad had fought harder? To stay married?”

  She was quiet for a bit before answering. I could hear her opening a bag of potato chips and then munching on them. Was every woman that I loved going to torture me?

  “I remember you always used to talk about how marathon runners can ‘hit the wall’ in the middle of a race, and how afraid you were of doing that at first, but then you realized that it was only after you hit the wall that you were strong enough to keep going past it.”

  “Yeah…”

  “I was so angry at your father for giving up on us when we hit the wall, but…it just took us both a really long time to realize we were strong enough to move past it.”

  “What are you saying—are you guys—”

  “I’m saying that it is very rare for two people to be able to run at the same pace all the time, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t on the same path. I wouldn’t give up on Gemma, if I were you. There’s more than one way to fight for something. Just get on with your life, and give her a chance to catch up.”

  I was about to tell my Mom that she was brilliant and ask her what the hell she meant about her and my Dad, but she told me someone was at the door and hung up.

  When I was sixteen, and hadn’t perfected my stride yet, I got Achilles tendinitis and didn’t rest my ankle long enough for it to heal as quickly as it should have. I was not going to make that mistake with this situation with Gemma now. I would keep the pressure off of it for as long as it took. No matter how much it hurt.

  “I’ll go first and I’ll be there waiting for you if you panic.”

  It’s what I told her before we jumped off of that cliff, and I meant it.

  24

  Gemma

  Here is a comprehensive list of all the things I’d done since I last saw Theo at the airport.

  1. Worked.

  2. Thought about Theo while working.

  3. Thought about Theo while crying and lying in bed at Chloe and Ethan’s.

  4. Thought about Theo while tidying up Chloe and Ethan’s apartment.

  5. Watched our marriage ceremony video over and over and over, crying and laughing like a lunatic, for approximately twenty-four hours.

  God, we looked so much younger then. So happy. It seemed like so long ago that we’d met. I felt so much older now that I was watching that video, but maybe I wasn’t all that naive when I told Theo I’d marry him. Maybe it really was that simple all along. It just took a while for my brain to catch up with my heart and soul.

  It was like remembering a long-forgotten dream. In my mind, I looked like a hot mess that entire day. From the morning I woke up and said to myself in the mirror: “You’re just doing this to help your best friend out. It’s not that big of a deal.” To the moment right before we walked into the Santa Barbara courthouse and I almost turned to Theo and said: “Wait. What if this is a bigger deal than we think it is?” To that moment in the suite at the ranch, when we shut the door after our friends and family left, and we were finally alone, as legal husband and wife, and he looked so handsome with his disheveled hair, his shirt, untucked and unbuttoned enough to show a glimpse of chest hair, his hands in his pockets, bare feet pointing directly at me, as he watched me, grinning and biting his lip.

  “So,” he said.

  “So,” I said.

  What followed was not the kind of comfortable silence we were used to. It was filled with questions, the kind that neither of us were ready to ask yet, and my answer was this: I held up my hand for a high-five and told him that I had to call Andrew to say goodnight.

  If I had played any of those moments differently, it could have changed everything.

  But it didn’t change anything between us. There was no sign of frustration or resentment then. We were being best friends. That’s how it felt to me, anyway.

  But in that video—on screen—we looked like we were so in love.

  Ethan had shot and edited together so many moments, leading up to the ceremony in the courthouse—little looks between me and Theo, looks that Theo gave me when I wasn’t watching him. The thing that really got me was that he barely ever took his eyes off of me that entire day, at least thanks to the magic of editing.

  Rather than questioning what was real and what wasn’t, I believed every single thing we said to each other in our vows. And that third kiss! I believed that kiss. I knew that everything I’d said and done that day was true. But I was so mad at myself for not following through on my promises to him.

  Maybe it hadn’t been a mistake, to strip everything away. Maybe this was exactly what I needed. Nothing felt complicated anymore. I could now see exactly what we had to work with. We had our friendship. That was and always would be the selling point. We just had to layer all those other elements back in. I was never a fan of monotone or black and white or color blocking. Our relationship could handle a beautiful mess of colors, all the shades, hot and muted. I would handle it.

  I finally reached for my phone and found myself calling someone that I hadn’t planned on calling ever again.

  “Gemma? What’s wrong?” I was planning on leaving a message, but he answered after the first ring.

  “Hi. Nothing. Are you busy?”

  “I’m just studying. What’s up? You never call. I thought it was an emergency or something.”

  “Well. Do emotional emergencies count?”

  “Is it Theo? Do you need me to come out there and beat him up?” Oh, Andrew. I could tell that he was smiling, but he wasn’t being an asshat. For once.

  “No. I just wanted to ask you something. We never really talked about…us. You know.”

  “Uh huhhhh.” Now he was probably regretting answering the call.

  “I guess I just finally want…”

  “Closure?”

  “A debriefing.”

  He didn’t even make a debriefing joke. “About?”

  “Me. As a girlfriend. What did I do wrong? How could I have improved? Be brutally honest. And don’t worry—I won’t reciprocate. Last time I saw you I think I expressed pretty clearly to you how I felt about you cheating on me for so long.”

  “Yeah. You were very expressive.”

  “You have full immunity now. That’s lawyer-talk, right?”

  “Sure.”

  “You can send me a list if you need to think about it.”

  “I’d rather not leave a paper trail.”

  “Ha ha. Lawyer humor. Is that one of the courses you’re taking?”

  “I could teach that class.”

  “So, do you want to think about it and then…”

  “I don’t need to think about.”

  “Oh.”

  “There’s no list, it was just one thing. You were a good girlfriend to me, Gem, I’ve never felt otherwise. It’s just that you weren’t completely in a relationship with me.”

  I sighed. “What about before I met Theo?”

  “I’m not even talking about that. Ever since we officially started dating, it’s like you were just my girlfriend, but you weren’t…in it. You weren’t interested in fighting with me or getting to know my dark side or finding out what really made me tick. So I didn’t get into it with you either. It’s like…I don’t know. It never got messy, so it never felt real. Honestly, we were the ones who had the fake relationship. But I still lov
ed ya.”

  The lump in my throat made some sort of noise, and eventually I was able to say, “Loved you too. Thank you.”

  After we’d hung up, I had a new respect for Andrew, and I definitely had closure.

  In my vows, I had promised to be there for Theo, no matter what. That wasn’t supposed to be a fake promise for the judge and the camera, but apparently I had lied. I wasn’t there for him when things got messy and tough for us. I wasn’t completely in it.

  I had so much restless energy, but I wasn’t ready to see Theo yet, because I still didn’t know what to say. Actually, I didn’t want to say anything. I wanted to show him that I was there for him, in a way that I hadn’t before.

  I looked out the window. The morning haze hadn’t burned off yet, and it didn’t look too hot. I pulled out my running shoes from my duffel bag. I double-tied the laces, so they wouldn’t come loose and trip me up.

  I did some stretches, and then I walked out the door with determination, and I started running. I paced myself. I was careful not to overstride, I used proper upper body form. I did all of the things that Theo had told me to do those few times I’d gone running with him.

  It made me feel closer to Theo. It made me feel like I was in his head, somehow, and in his body too. About fifteen minutes in, my quads were on fire and pretty much every joint in my body was like—WHY ARE YOU PUNISHING US?!?!?! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOGA, YOU BITCH?! But I thought about how Theo must have felt this when he started running, and he pushed through it.

  If really being married to Theo Walker meant putting up with him being jealous and jumping off of cliffs and running marathons together, then I was in.

  I wasn’t running alongside him yet, but I was training myself to.

  25

  Theo

  I had searched the online database of 5K runs in Southern California and found one in Ventura County on a Saturday. I hadn’t been to Ventura County since the weekend I’d married Gemma in Santa Barbara. So much had happened since then. She’d broken up with Andrew. I had become a naturalized American citizen. We’d had sex and told each other we were in love with each other. The beautiful ranch resort in Montecito where we stayed for our sham honeymoon had been severely damaged by mudslides. Our relationship had been severely damaged by confusion, fear, jealousy, mistrust, naïveté, the inability to just enjoy what we had and to push through the pain together.

  As bittersweet as it was to be back there, I was still holding onto the belief that we were capable of rebuilding, just like the San Ysidro Ranch was.

  I didn’t get to the event location as early as I would have liked. There were already a lot of people milling about and stretching to the usual Eighties pop songs that blared from two big speakers. It was a morning event, the marine layer hadn’t burned off yet, and I was looking forward to running near the beach. A quick run to clear the head was just what the doctor ordered.

  When I run I’m never in the right headspace to seriously check out women, not before a race anyway, but after picking up my registration packet and affixing my race number to myself, I caught a glimpse of a ponytailed lass in hot pink Fitness Nerd running gear. She was stretching her calf muscles. My body responded to seeing her before my brain did. All of a sudden my heart was racing even though I had barely been walking. She looked so pretty and perky, but determined—as opposed to annoyed and resentful, which is how she usually looked when I’d gotten her to run with me. She was looking around, and when she saw me, she didn’t look surprised, so much as relieved.

  She finished holding her stretch before casually sauntering over, as if we were always running into each other at races. It reminded me of the first time we met, the ease with which we began conversing, except I wasn’t naked, she didn’t appear to be stoned, and there were dozens of people around us.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hi.”

  “You’re here.”

  “I’m here.”

  “You’re here to run?”

  “Is that so surprising?”

  “You are constantly surprising me.”

  “Good. I intend to continue doing that. For a very long time.”

  Like forever?

  As if she knew my question, she scratched her nose with her left hand and I noticed that she was wearing her wedding band. On her left ring finger. On her right finger she wore the 3.0 ring.

  The man who’d organized this event got on the microphone and made an announcement for everyone to gather at the start line.

  I didn’t want to leave Gemma’s side, and it must have been obvious to her.

  “Don’t slow down for me, okay? I mean it. I’ll be fine.”

  “Really? Have you been training?”

  “Uh huh. For like a week.”

  “Did you eat? Are you hydrated?”

  “I had a chia seed pudding and drank tons of coconut water up until an hour ago. I’m fine. I’m gonna stay towards the back. Don’t worry about me.”

  “Okay.” I had to ask, to clarify. I couldn’t wait. “So this means you’ll stay married to me?”

  She grinned. “Yeah. I’ll see you at the finish line.”

  I did as she asked. I ran the race and placed third, which was fine considering I hadn’t really been training for a while. I was definitely pushed along, as always, by the thought of seeing Gemma after finishing, although this time I was excited to watch for her by the sidelines. I don’t think she could have picked a better way to come back to me. It meant everything.

  The thirty minutes I had to wait for Gemma to cross the finish line felt like an eternity, but as soon as I saw her round the bend, I was so proud of her. I started jumping and hooting and hollering, you’d think she’d just completed the Boston Marathon. Still, she was jogging, maintaining an upright posture, and most importantly—she was smiling and coming straight for me. She jumped up into my arms and I spun her around. It was a family-friendly event, so that was the extent of our public display of affection. Also, I wanted to make sure she rehydrated immediately and did some static stretches.

  But, while she was scarfing down the complimentary ice cream sandwich, I quietly mentioned that I was thinking about getting a room at a nearby hotel. To shower, or whatever.

  “Yes,” she said, mouth full, and already heading for her car.

  We held hands while I convinced the desk clerk to let us check into a room early, and I couldn’t even wait for the elevator doors to close before getting a salty taste of her gloriously perspired skin.

  “I just have to tell you,” she said, all breathless and groping me, “Everything that I’ve ever felt for you and with you is new and more and better. So much better than anything I’ve ever felt before.”

  “Same here,” I said.

  “I promise to love all of your messy feelings if you’ll love mine.”

  “I already do.”

  We barely even made it inside the room before peeling each other’s clothes off. Showering would have to wait. Everything else on earth would have to wait. I needed to be inside of my wife.

  “This is my finish line,” I said, as I pulled down her panties and lowered myself to that sweet secret part of her that was mine, all mine.

  We were all sweaty and tired, and had sex fast, like a couple who’ve been married for years, who knew we’d have a lifetime together to do it again and again, and it was perfect.

  Epilogue – Theo

  *One year later*

  We’re at an orchard, in Niagara on the Lake. It was Gemma’s idea to have our renewal vows ceremony here. We’re on the Canadian side, near the border. It’s the weekend of Canadian Thanksgiving. “The leaves will be turning, there will be so much beautiful color and we have so much to be thankful for!” As always, she was cheesy without even trying.

  All around us, it is indeed a symphony of green, red, orange, yellow and gold.

  The “wedding” colors match our natural surroundings. Not to brag, but my wife is a kickass designer.

  All of our relatives
are here, close friends and colleagues, old family friends—including Andrew, his parents and Andrew’s girlfriend. Both my Mom and my Dad are here. As a couple. Who are dating. So. That’s happening. The only person happier that we’re doing this in Canada than my Dad and my grandmother—is Grandma Kelly (I mean Gemma, not her actual Nana Kelly, who is also here).

  That day in Ventura, after the first 5K we ran in together, we eventually took a shower in that hotel and that’s when she told me she thought it could be good for her career, if she eventually had dual citizenship as well. At first I thought she was joking. She wasn’t.

  “I mean, say Martin Scorcese decides to do a sequel to The Departed and they shoot it in Toronto, for budget reasons and tax breaks.”

  “Sure. And what would that be called?” I poured shower gel onto my hands and then let my hands go wherever they wanted to, all over my wife’s gorgeous wet totally naked body.

  “Still Departed After All These Years, Eh? And you know how American productions in Canada get more tax breaks if they hire Canadians? Say it comes down to me and some American dude with the same amount of experience as me.”

  “But he’d have less talent, obviously.”

  She poured a generous amount of shower gel onto her hand and put her hand exactly where I was hoping she would.

  “Yeah, so that guy’s got a penis. Big deal, but what do I have that’s worth more than that?”

  “My penis.”

  “Which is a huge deal. But also—Canadian citizenship.”

  I was no longer capable of participating in the conversation with words, so I kissed her. I would marry her in every country on Earth if she wanted me to.

  When we got back to L.A., we stopped by Chloe and Ethan’s to pick up Gemma’s stuff to take back to our house. We ceremoniously burned the unfiled divorce documents in the fireplace, while she rearranged candles, plants and stacks of books on the mantle.