by B. M. Sandy
She could remember the way it felt, wanting to say it: I love you. Like it was a living thing inside of her that needed to be noticed, needed to be seen. She almost said it, but in the end, she swallowed it down. There was no room for love when he was leaving.
“God, Cassie. How are you feeling?”
Cassie dropped her curtain, trailing back over to her bed, sitting down. She swallowed and looked at her knees.
“I’ve been better.”
The only reason she hadn’t spent last night with him was because he had to pack - he’d been putting it off, he said, all week, and he had to get his suitcases in order. He promised to call her today sometime, to meet up for a proper goodbye.
“Do you wanna get breakfast? I mean, you took the day off, didn’t you?”
“Um...I’m not hungry, but we could get a coffee I guess. And yeah, I did.”
“Let’s meet at the coffee shop in twenty minutes, then.”
Cassie agreed, ending the call and making her way to her closet, throwing on a pair of shorts and a tank top and pulling her hair back into a bun. She didn’t bother with makeup.
The coffee shop was unexpectedly busy for a Thursday morning. Not seeing Sam, Cassie waited near the door for her, scrolling through local news on her phone as she did so.
“Hey, Cassie!” she heard, and she looked up, seeing Sam heading toward her, waving.
They hugged briefly, Sam holding onto her stiffly for a moment before letting go. Cassie pulled back and tried to smile, knowing it wouldn’t fool her.
“C’mon, let’s get some coffee,” Sam said, and Cassie followed her into line. Through the noise of the espresso machine, Sam asked, “So, talk to me. Have you heard from him yet?”
She was worried; it was obvious. Cassie shook her head, shrugging at the same time. “No. He said he’d call me today, sometime. His flight is at 6:45.”
She nodded. Sam had met Jake a few more times over the last three weeks; they’d cooked a dinner at Sam’s place together about two weeks ago. Cassie had never seen Sam so happy in months, and, on top of it, she had finally gotten that autograph and photo she’d wanted, much to her delight. But Cassie knew that those things didn’t actually matter, and that Sam would gladly give up those things if it meant that Cassie wouldn’t be hurt.
It was too late to avoid being hurt; hurt was all Cassie felt.
“I really wish there was something else to be done about this. He makes you so happy.”
They were next, which meant that Cassie didn’t have to come up with a reply for that. They ordered their coffee, and a few moments later made their way, coffees in hand, to a free table.
It was far too hot to drink, and Cassie removed the lid in hopes of cooling it quicker. She breathed in the hearty scent, closing her eyes, wishing she could pretend she was somewhere else - perhaps she could pretend that it was eight weeks ago, the first week Jake was in town, before that night he asked her out for the first time. They’d sat in this very spot, discussing him, Sam intrigued and curious about Jake, asking questions about the dinner at the hotel the night before. It felt like so long ago - it felt like almost a lifetime ago. It didn’t feel like she was that same girl Jake had originally met.
“Well, I say we have a slumber party this weekend - we can invite Madison and just stay up all night drinking wine and watching shitty horror movies. Or maybe shitty comedies? I mean, it’s up to you, of course. But I think the most important thing is to tackle this head on, you know?”
Sam was talking a mile a minute, and Cassie simply nodded the whole way through, not even certain if she’d follow through with it.
“But, just out of curiosity...what would you do if Jake didn’t want to end things today?”
“I...I mean, he wouldn’t.” Cassie cleared her throat, refusing to think too hard about that particular scenario. “We talked about it last weekend again, I mean, a bit. We still think this is the best thing for both of us.”
“But did you tell him you loved him?” Sam asked, quietly.
“No. And I won’t. It’s better left unsaid.”
Just to do something, Cassie took a sip of her coffee - it burnt her tongue. She set her cup down quickly, wishing she had some way to redirect Sam’s intense stare.
“I won’t hound you on it, but I think Jake deserves to know how you feel about him. Have you thought that maybe he might feel the same way?”
“Yeah, I have. And if he does, then he doesn’t seem to think it needs saying either. And besides, it’d only complicate things,” Cassie replied, a hint of frustration in her voice. And then, for added effect, “He’s leaving. Today.”
“I - I know.” Sam sounded so forlorn, so downtrodden. “I just...I can’t help but feel that it’s better late than never. What if he’s your...your person? Your one true love, your great love? And you’re just...you’re letting him walk away. Once he gets on that plane, Cassie, he’s not coming back. You’ll never see him again.”
Sam’s words dried Cassie’s throat; these were all things that had crossed her mind from time to time but that she had refused to really think about. Floundering, she said weakly, “I mean, it’s not like I don’t have any way to contact him. I have his phone number, his email. He promised to keep in touch.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Do you think you guys are gonna have nightly calls from London, from Australia? Because I don’t.”
“I - I didn’t say that,” Cassie replied, taken aback by Sam’s sudden aggressiveness. She wondered if Sam was actually mad at her or just mad at the situation. “Look, Sam. I know you’re...frustrated by this. But...you and I have talked about this...and Jake and I have made our decision. Do I like it? No. But I wouldn’t like the alternative, either.”
Sighing, Sam bowed her head, staring at her coffee. She hadn’t touched it once, and now she made to remove the cap. Cassie could see the steam rising up, dissipating into the air.
“Yeah. I know, Cassie. I just don’t want to see you get hurt, but I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“No. No, you don’t,” she replied with a weak grin. She chanced another sip of her coffee, this time finding it much less hot. The aromatic flavor relaxed her, its familiarity a comfort.
“Well, as soon as he’s gone, I want you to call me. I’m here for you, you know. And, even though you don’t know her that well yet, Madison is too.”
Cassie felt a surge of warmth in the hollow of her chest at Sam’s words. Because even though everything felt like it was falling apart, one look at Sam’s worried face was enough to remind her that some things would remain intact.
Jake stood on Cassie’s porch, his mouth dry as his raised finger hovered above the doorbell.
He had to leave for the airport soon. He would have given anything to stay a few extra days - to savor his last moments with her, to actually give himself a chance to say a proper goodbye, not this bloody rushed thing he was about to do, but couldn’t. He’d promised Drew he’d be there tomorrow to sign the film contract. And he knew, deep down, that staying any longer was only prolonging the inevitable.
He had to say goodbye.
Jamming his finger on the doorbell harder than he had meant to, he took a step back, waiting for someone to answer the door. He didn’t need to wait long before he heard footsteps creaking beyond it and the sounds of the deadbolt coming undone.
Cassie opened the door, her face paler than usual. She smiled when they made eye contact, though it was strained. He smiled too, knowing it didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Jake. Come in,” she said, stepping back to give him space. He stepped in and she closed the door, and he followed her into the living room.
He felt very nervous. Not for the first time, he wondered why they had agreed to end things this way. It felt so cold, so...wrong. And looking at her now, so obviously in pain, made his heart drop in his chest.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t come sooner. Dan wanted to have a closing meeting, and it ran longer than I’d have liked. And
then, of course, packing to leave a shoot always seems to take longer than packing to leave for one.”
He watched her sit on the couch, the motion so slow and deliberate. “Don’t apologize. I understand.”
Jake sat next to her, careful not to get too close. He had only about twenty minutes to spend with her, and realizing this gave him a renewed sense of the hurt and despair he had told himself he shouldn’t feel. But looking at her now...
“So, this is it, then,” Cassie said quietly. The room was very quiet; Mrs. Mill’s cat, Max, had wandered in and was sitting on the floor by her empty chair, watching them. He looked away, finding the stare unnerving, accusing. You’re going to regret this, it seemed to say.
“Ah - yes,” Jake said, running a hand through his hair. “Where’s your mum?”
“She had to work,” Cassie replied. “What will you do with your time off? When you get back, before the shoot in December.”
“Oh, well, I’ll rest. I’ll visit my mum and dad, I’ll catch up on my reading. Maybe I’ll finish Crime and Punishment, once and for all.”
She giggled at this, the first genuine thing he’d seen from her since he got there. Without thinking, he leaned forward, wanting to kiss her, but realizing halfway there that he probably shouldn’t.
He froze but felt her hands on his face, pulling him all the way. Their lips met in a hurried kiss, her hands reaching to grip the back of his neck, keeping him in place. It was a heated and sorrowful kiss - he felt, despite his best efforts, his heart sinking even lower in his chest. He wished this could go on forever. He wished he didn’t have to leave. He wished he could tell her how he felt, how desperately in love with her he was, but he knew it would only hurt her more.
They pulled back, eyes meeting, and Jake forced a small smile onto his face. For a few long moments, they only watched each other, and Jake felt that underlying sense of time escaping him.
“What will you do with the rest of your summer?” he asked finally.
“I don’t really have a summer,” she said. “The new semester starts on Monday, and I...I decided to take an art class, just once a week.”
“Really? That’s brilliant. I’m happy to hear that.”
She nodded, her eyes shy. He smiled, this time the action quite genuine, reaching out to grip her hand.
“Cassie, I...” he trailed off, searching for what he wanted to say. His time with her was half gone already. “I wanted to...to thank you for everything you’ve done for me this summer.” He paused, feeling his throat tighten at that, and licked his lips. “You...you made me the happiest I’ve felt for a long time.”
He thought of the first time he ever saw her, that night at the hotel. He thought of the next night, the stunned look on her face when he asked her out. He thought of the way the sun reflected off her hair in the car as they drove to the park, the dress she wore to dinner in Pittsburgh. He thought of the way she felt in his arms, the feel of her body against his when they made love.
Cassie’s eyes shone at this; he saw the unforgiving buildup of tears and wished he could do something to stop them. He reached to grip her hands, holding them in his in a futile effort to comfort her.
“What is it, love?” he asked.
“It’s - it’s nothing,” Cassie replied, pulling one of her hands out of his grip to swipe under her eyes. She sniffed and sat back a little, as if to distance herself from him. She shook her head, a sad smile on her face. “It’s just that...I should be the one thanking you.”
He thought he understood that. He felt it, that sense of knowing that he’d helped her open up about her father, he’d helped her feel something other than the acute loss and pain.
“Well,” he said finally. “I suppose we can just settle for thanking each other.”
“Yeah. I suppose we can.”
There was an awkward silence at this; Jake struggled to find something to say to ease the uncertainty he felt. Releasing her hands, he stood up, realizing he only had a handful of minutes before he had to be on the road.
“Well...” he said. “I’m...I’m afraid I must be going now.”
Cassie’s face was quite blank as she stood. He assumed his face must look quite similar; he couldn’t trust himself to make any sort of expressions right then. They looked at each other for a brief moment before Jake began to make his way to the door, pausing when they stood before it.
“Cassie...” he started, looking at her, wondering very suddenly where the last eight weeks had gone. They had slipped through his fingers like water, no matter how hard he had tried to slow it down. “If you...if you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to call me. Despite everything, I’m still your friend, and...” he trailed off, that traitorous feeling of tightness in his throat returning. It wouldn’t help matters at all if he began to cry, which he had adamantly told himself he wouldn’t do. It was hard enough as it was without that.
“Me too, Jake,” she said, very quietly, and he felt her hand rest on his arm. Her eyes were shining again, and he had to look away. “I’ll always be here for you if you need it.”
He felt her step forward, the air shifting as she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. Weakly at first, he hugged her back, until he realized he wasn’t feeling enough, and he squeezed her tighter, wishing that somehow this moment could be frozen forever, that he could remain rooted in this spot. He breathed in the scent of her hair, feeling the warmth of her body seeping through him, knowing how cold he’d feel when she finally stepped away.
It was she who drew back first, looking hesitantly up at him, her brow knit. She tried a smile but failed; it looked like more of a grimace.
“Well, you...you have a plane to catch,” she said, almost a whisper.
I love you, he wanted to say. But instead, “Yes. I do.”
He leaned in, searching her face, wishing to feel her one last time before he left. She pulled his face lightly toward her and they met in a brief, soft kiss; he told himself that he would never forget the way she felt, or that shiver that passed between them.
“Goodbye, Cassie,” he said quietly when they parted. He watched her nod, and he reached for the door. He felt in that moment that they could say it a hundred times and it would not feel like enough; settling for one would have to do.
“Goodbye, Jake. I’ll...I’ll miss you.”
His hand paused on the doorknob, and he bit his lip. He nodded and turned his head to look at her.
“And I’ll miss you.”
He turned back and opened the door, leaving her to stand in the foyer as he shut it behind him. As he walked to his car, he thought in that moment that he had never before felt so acutely lonely; he wondered if Cassie was watching him go or if she was still standing there staring at the blank wooden door.
He got in the car, buckling up and fumbling with the GPS, jabbing at it harder than he normally would have, a fresh wave of anger surging through him as he berated himself for thinking that ending things was the proper thing to do. He frowned, gritting his teeth together, wishing so badly he could convince himself to walk back in there and confess his feelings and beg her to stay with him.
That’s just a fantasy, the voice in his head hissed. The both of you decided this, now deal with it, like an adult.
And without another glance toward her house, he backed out of the driveway, feeling a terrible chill at the uncanny absence of Cassie in the passenger seat.
It would be a very long ride to the airport indeed.
After Jake left, Cassie stared at the front door for a long time.
He was gone. Truly, irrevocably, permanently, gone. The thought was difficult to bear, and after what felt like forever, she turned around and went back to the living room, picking up her phone and unlocking it, hovering over Sam’s contact, staring at her picture until her eyes blurred over and she let out a strangled choking sob.
This was much more painful than she had thought it would be. She thought, knowing about and anticipating and
dreading it for so long, that it wouldn’t be so hard. That it’d be sad, but it wouldn’t feel like he had ripped out a piece of her and taken it with him. Clutching her, she pressed the call button on her phone. She didn’t have to wait very long before Sam picked up.
“Cassie? How are you?”
Through the phone, Cassie could just imagine Sam’s expression: that worried knit of her brow, that perfect frown. She could barely trust herself to speak.
“Well - he’s gone,” she replied. She turned and collapsed on the couch, not truly seeing the room before her.
“Oh, Cassie. I’m so sorry.”
“I did this to myself.” She felt tears building in her eyes, the steady trails two left as they fell down her face. The air felt cold and cruel against the path they marked.
Sam was oddly silent at this, obviously at a loss for words. Finally, she said, “You didn’t know you were going to fall in love with him, Cassie. You can’t blame yourself for that.”
Cassie was crying fully now, the helpless feeling that she couldn’t stop overtaking her completely.
“I’m coming to get you. We’ll do our slumber party early. I’ll call off work tomorrow. You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
She didn’t have it in her heart to argue, so she agreed, ended the call, and sluggishly made herself get off the couch and climb the stairs to pack a bag. The motions felt so automated, so robotic; she blinked away her tears as she packed a pair of pajamas and a change of clothes, her toothbrush and makeup bag. She wished she could find it in herself to be excited to spend the night with Sam drinking wine and watching movies and trying to forget about the pain she felt.
It was about twenty minutes later when Cassie and Sam were back at her apartment, stepping inside and being barked at by Scott. Cassie smiled weakly at him, kneeling down to scratch his ears. She barely felt the scratchy fur, barely registered the warmth.