For Both Are Infinite (Hearts in London Book 1)

by Stephanie Alba

  “I’m sorry I’m keeping you from your family.” He seemed overly sincere in his apology and his eyes were heavy with regret.

  I assured him by placing my hand in the air, “Don’t worry, you aren’t keeping me. I’d rather work anyways. I like staying distracted.”

  Unsure how to take that, Rhys nodded with his lips pursed and he contemplated it. Tired of talking about myself I asked him about his weekend, and he told me that he caught up with friends and family, that he loved being home in London. It made my apathy towards going home seem like I didn’t care for my family, but he just didn’t understand. Really, it couldn’t be further from the truth. If I could just go home and camp out at my parents, I would. But that wasn’t realistic or fair to others that would want to see me.

  “It must be nice to be able to stay in one place after being away from home.”

  “Definitely,” he agreed. “Again, it’s nice to be around those that are important to me.”

  “Who’s that? I know you mentioned that your parents were divorced.” I surprised myself by asking and regretted it immediately, worried that I seemed nosy.

  “Yes, they are. Both live here, so I’m lucky that I get to spend time with them when I’m home. My mother has a cottage in Scotland she visits throughout the year, but she’s home for the summer. I’m closer to her than my father. He wasn’t always supportive of my career choice and there’s lingering tension. I also visit with my sisters, my nieces, and some old friends from school.”

  “That’s unfortunate about your dad considering your success.”

  “Yeah, well…” he started, but didn’t voice the rest of his thought. He looked outside becoming the quietest I’d seen him as his eyes became vacant. Returning his attention a moment later he added, “It is what it is. I try not to dwell on it.”

  Just as he said that his phone rang and looking at the caller ID, he decided it was worth answering. Excusing himself, he walked to the terrace and answered the call. I tried watching him discreetly, witnessing him smirk consistently throughout the conversation.

  At one point he laughed loudly and seemed thrilled with whomever he was talking to. I felt slight disappointment and my foolishness quickly turned to guilt and self-annoyance. Why do you care who he’s talking to? I shook my head and distracted myself with my cell as he walked back in and our food was delivered.

  “Sorry, someone I couldn’t ignore.” He noted my curiosity and explained, “My mother. Sweet old gal wanted to see how the training was going.”

  My heart rushed at the thought that his mother knew about our meetings. “Oh, I assumed you meant a girlfriend. That’s nice that your mom is interested,” I said, trying to be nonchalant. I feared he saw right through me, or perhaps he believed I was trying to sell a story, because he tilted his head, intrigued I’d even implied it.

  Shaking his head with a devilish smile, he looked down at his food. “No girlfriends. I don’t have anyone special in my life as of yet.”

  I considered that perhaps there was someone he was trying to be with. Continuing unexpectedly he said, “It’s hard to date, I travel too much. I miss my family and friends. I can’t imagine how I’d miss a significant other. And I don’t date actresses, so it’s always long distance in some way or another.”

  “Why not? There are so many choices of gorgeous women. Plus it’s practical; they’d completely understand your line of work and lifestyle.”

  “You’re right,” he nodded. “But I want someone outside of all that. I want someone who will give me a normal life when I come home. My job is an amazing experience, but I want it to be a job, not something I live every second. Besides, there are equally beautiful women that aren’t actresses.”

  He looked up at me as he finished, an implication in his eyes that left me breathless.

  “I’m sure it’s difficult to trust people though.” I was so enthralled with the information he was feeding me, I didn’t think about what could come next in the conversation.

  “Yes, it is.” He paused. “What about you? Is there a special man in your life?” I flinched involuntarily which he noticed because immediately he said, “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be nosy. Just making conversation.”

  I tried to relax and say the closest thing to the truth. “There was someone, but he isn’t around anymore.”

  Rhys assumed that someone had hurt me. “Ah, that’s a shame. His loss.”

  And I couldn’t help but think, No, it was mine. He changed the subject after that and I listened, hearing him mention a script he had read, but mostly zoned out for the rest of lunch.

  We finished the day on campus and it was a relief avoiding personal questions even though lunch wasn’t that bad. The remainder of the afternoon went by quickly, and before leaving Rhys said that he had thought of a few things over the weekend and wanted to know if he could have my number.

  “Michael told me to ask John for it, but I find that a bit rude and assuming. The right thing is to ask you. This way, if I think of something I can text you and you can answer me whenever you have the chance.”

  I didn’t answer right away, having been years since a man asked me for my number. I knew he wasn’t asking in a flirtatious manner, but I still felt reminiscent for the time Aaron asked for it during Biology sophomore year.

  “Would that be alright, Ellie?” he asked, bringing me out of my daydream. I noticed he had a flash of embarrassment that he’d perhaps overstepped a boundary.

  “Yes, of course.” Rhys’ mouth curved in satisfaction as I recited my number to him.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The end of the semester was catching up to me. I was exhausted with tension collected in my shoulders and bags under my eyes. Looking forward to having the next day off, I showered and laid in bed that night, realizing it had been a trying day. Being around Rhys challenged me in ways I’d evaded. I was attracted to him, but my heart and brain tried resisting it to every extent.

  When I got home I looked at Aaron’s picture, stroking my fingers on the frame and staring into his eyes that were forever trapped in the image. I used to obsess over how I would never see those eyes smile, cry or blink again, but since moving here I was able to seclude my torture. My attraction felt betraying to the love of my life who was no longer in my life. My world felt tumbled with, and since Aaron’s passing I hadn’t felt completely in control of it. He left a gaping black hole in my universe, one that couldn’t be filled even if I’d allow anyone to try.

  When Rhys asked for my number, I hesitated. Not because it wasn’t a good idea, but because I immediately thought back to Aaron. I considered the memory, similar to a teenage chick flick, where the boy in braces asked the girl out, she’s still got baby fat on her face, but it’s clear they’re a perfect match. That was Aaron and I, and he was confident that day when he asked a nervous, awkward Ellie for her number.

  When I went home that day in tenth grade, I checked my phone every five minutes in hopes that he would call. He didn’t wait or play the game to text me, and it was one of my favorite memories of him. The following day in the hallway he messaged me and watched from the other side, observing my giddy smile as I glanced at my phone.

  Aaron: Will you be my girlfriend?

  Somewhere in between looking at my phone and reading the message, Aaron had joined me at my side and touched my smile with his fingertip. “Does this mean yes?” and I nodded eagerly, looking up and seeing his large grin. It was silly, the way we’d started our relationship, adolescent even, but it was who we were. We had dated all through high school and gone to the same university, graduating within one semester of each other. Shortly after that we became roommates and started our lives together.

  It didn’t take long for my memories to form tears in my eyes. I looked away from the picture and took care of work related emails before Googling Rhys with different hair colors. Curiosity got the best of me and I decided that the brunette was my preference. Shutting off the computer I headed for bed, disappointed tha
t I had just chosen a favorite hair color for the man I was avoiding complication and working with.

  The time before bed is when I felt closest and furthest from Aaron. I could still feel him by my side, picturing his sweet kisses before we slept, or the sound of his snoring in the night. It was always too loud and kept me up, but now the inevitable silence was torture. The bed was too empty, especially after four years of sharing it with another. My phone buzzed as I began my nightly routine of chasing sleep and I saw it was from Rhys.

  Rhys: Just wanted to say I had a great time learning about Hamlet and you. See you Thursday.

  I smirked as I read, not expecting him to text so soon. A tiny fleck of elation simmered in my smile as the pessimistic side of me scoffed. I knew I was being hard on myself, but I wasn’t about to ruin all the strength I’d gained over the last year. I replied “me too,” keeping it simple to avoid giving him the wrong idea. Then I tossed my phone, turned over and slowly dozed off.

  ∞

  I caught up with grading on Wednesday and went for a walk in the park, appreciating the appeal that London was a metropolitan city, with subways and skyscrapers that still provided the balance of outdoors and greenery-filled parks. The day passed quickly and the following morning I had trouble picking an outfit, suddenly caring about how I looked. I settled for a gray maxi skirt and a red tee, looking summery and casual enough to be comfortable at work. We would be spending the day watching film versions of Hamlet, analyzing actors’ portrayals and what Rhys could take from that.

  I was early again, but this time I was prepared for the possibility that he’d be there too and I saw him sitting through the glass. He stood up immediately and opened the door for me. Involuntarily, I smiled and murmured what hopefully sounded like a thank you.

  “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, Rhys.”

  “Aw,” he mumbled. Reading my perplexed expression he said, “It’s nice to hear you say my first name.”

  I looked down and the corners of my mouth tilted slightly as I shrugged. As I attempted to sit, he pulled out my chair for me and then handed me another coffee.

  “Rhys, you don’t have to bring coffee each time. I appreciate it, but it’s not necessary.”

  “I know, but I go for myself, so I’ll bring one for you as well.” He smiled with endearing warmth, reminding me of a sweet young boy that had no worries in the world. I was certain he saw a cold old lady when he looked at me, but it’s only because he didn’t understand and I wouldn’t let him.

  To keep myself from staring, I explained that we would be watching movies for the day and lead him to the viewing room on the floor above. The room was fit for twenty students, and I had mistakenly assumed he’d sit closer to the screen, only to be surprised when he plopped into the seat directly beside me in the back.

  “Rhys, you can sit closer if you like,” I nudged ahead in hopes to gain some space.

  He looked over at me in the dark, his blue eyes practically glowing as he whispered, “It’s all right. I like this seat.”

  The credits began, darkening the room so he could no longer see the blush on my cheeks. It was unnerving sitting in the darkness with him, but I was able to take him in safely in the shadows. It allowed me to observe his long legs and hear the rhythm of his breathing, the little moans and grunts he made in reaction to the film. I could also feel his forearm against mine and I remained frozen, worried that it would offend him if I moved, but uneasy because it was too close.

  This was the closest I had been to a man since Aaron, besides my father. Being that close to Rhys I could smell his cologne, a mix of citrus and woodsy scents that smelled intoxicating. I glanced over with just my eyes, afraid that if I turned my head he’d look back. I could see the veins in his hands, trailing up the forearms that were covered in an attractive amount of reddish-brown hairs. All the muscles were apparent, making his arms look subtly like a farm boy that worked outside all day. They were nice, a perfect balance of lithe and muscular, making it difficult to focus on the film.

  We broke for lunch after finishing the Mel Gibson version, and outside I took a deep breath. My abdominals were sore from trying to hold in my edgy breathing for two hours. I suggested a Thai place for lunch and told him to please let me pay for myself. Rhys’ lips pinched together as he said, “Absolutely not,” much to my dismay. Instead of fighting over it, I started walking and lead him on our way. We ordered quickly, the restaurant being a frequent stop of mine throughout the semester, and I tried explaining my desire to pay.

  “I know it’s expensive. That’s why I wanted to pay. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you.”

  “Not at all. I offered and I’m not offended by your attempt to compensate. I appreciate it.”

  I nodded shyly, and we sat in discomfited silence until Rhys looked up and chuckled. “I have an idea. Let’s play a form of twenty questions. I’ll ask ten and you ask ten, and we each have to answer. This way we can become more familiar with one another…break the ice so to speak.”

  I didn’t want to play, but then we would have to sit there and stare at each other uncomfortably, so half-heartedly I agreed. “You start.”

  He began by asking my favorite color, and the questions that followed were fairly comfortable. We discussed favorite movies, books, and food, staying in safe territory for the first 10 questions. I told him that it wasn’t easy to pick my favorite movies because I loved film and his eyebrows shot up.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he shrugged.

  “No, tell me. What is it?” I insisted.

  “Well,” he gestured with his hand. “I guess I’m surprised to hear you love movies that much. Most fanatics react differently around celebrities, and you don’t seem too excitable to work with me.”

  If he only knew how much he already affected me. He made me question myself, every movement, my words, and any other decision I made around him. He noticed my reflection and said, “I don’t mean to offend you. You just seem distant. Most people want to be my best friend.”

  “No.” I understood. I contemplated the best explanation I could offer. “I respect you and your work, Rhys, but I don’t really care for your fame. You’re just another person I have to work with.”

  He hummed with a smile, but it was forced and sad. “Maybe eventually a friend, too?”

  I couldn’t bear to break his heart, so I fibbed. “Yes, and a friend. Although I’m sure you’ll forget about me once our training is complete.”

  I caught my breath when Rhys leaned over and reached for my hand. “Never. I hope we can stay in touch after our work is done.”

  I was awed by him yet questioned his sincerity. I had no reason to doubt him and I couldn’t stop staring at our hands on the table and back to his face. He removed his from mine, concerned I was uncomfortable, but it felt nice. In fact, the only discomfort I felt was how at ease our hands felt joined. I couldn’t handle the exposure I felt as he watched me and reminded him, “next question,” in an attempt to move on.

  We continued discussing ourselves, comparing places we’ve traveled or wanted to visit. He told me that he had an apartment in Paris when I mentioned that it was going to be my first trip sometime soon. Rhys insisted that I use his place and even consider allowing him to be my personal tour guide. I smiled in false agreement, but knew there was no chance in hell I would take him up on the offer.

  He kept me distracted, offering bits of myself in order to learn more about him, and I was becoming hooked on discovering out each layer he gave me. I became so comfortable around him I wasn’t ready for his last question. It was general, and seemingly harmless, but to me it was like looking in the Mirror of Erised from Harry Potter. All the things I wanted, and all the things I didn’t have.

  “What’s been the happiest moment of your life so far?”

  I flinched when he asked, thinking of Aaron’s proposal and replaying it in my mind. Aaron and I knew since tenth grade that we wanted to get mar
ried, but life had other plans. He was always thoughtful and romantic, coming up with surprises for me. He had bought one of those blank books to write our love story in and filled the whole thing out.

  Giving it to me as a gift, I flipped through the pages, laughing at things he’d written, admiring photos he’d added to it. But when I got to the last section, a section set up for the future, I saw that Aaron had taped an engagement ring to it. I looked up from the page and saw he was already kneeling in front of me and I didn’t even let him ask. I just threw myself at him and whispered “yes.”

  I unconsciously grew emotional in front of Rhys as he became aware that I was not comfortable sharing the memory playing in my mind. He appeared guilty, trying to gauge the situation and attempted to comfort me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded, unconvincingly. “I don’t know how to answer that one.”

  I became flustered, blinking back the tears when he put his hand on mine and said, “Don’t worry about it, you don’t have to.”

  “No, it’s just a complicated answer. Sorry,” I said and he again squeezed my hand with reassurance.

  “It’s quite all right.”

  He left it at that, but I could tell that I had intrigued him, that he was respecting my privacy, but interested in what could cause such heavy emotion. We waited for the bill in tense silence, regret in his eyes for asking and I knew he felt that we had just taken a few steps backwards in becoming close. For the remainder of the day we functioned, or didn’t, in that manner—him walking on eggshells, and me avoiding his eyes.

  I gave him materials to look over during the weekend and when he took them he stared at me. “Thank you.”

  He lingered for a moment, hands at his side as he silently requested reconciliation. I swore his lower lip pouted as he hugged me, a short one this time and he whispered, “I’ll see you Tuesday.”