Shame

by Fiona Cole

  This was too much. Coming home, I knew my chances of seeing Kevin increased, but I figured I could avoid him. Avoid my emotions about how we’d ended things. Mostly my mind was consumed with my mom and being there for her. The transfer took up so much of my time, I hadn’t had too much of it to dwell on the possibilities.

  When I let myself, I’d thought I’d be angry and shun him. Faced with reality, I realized I just wanted to be in his presence again. I never took into consideration that the old feelings would be more prominent than the pain. The full force of my Kevin-centered emotions made it impossible to process anything with him staring at me.

  Either way, I shoved them down and made my way to him. Ever the gentleman, he stood and pulled out my chair. I ignored the way he tugged it around the table until I was practically next to him, rather than across. I sat and fiddled with my coffee cup, turning it in circles, waiting for him to talk.

  “Not gonna lie, I’m not sure where the hell to start.” His honesty allowed the muscles in my shoulders to relax, knowing I wasn’t alone with my nerves. He was always so good at portraying calm, I didn’t know what to think. In the past, I saw beyond it, but a lot had changed. It was stupid to assume I could still read him. “Honestly, all I can think to say to you is how sorry I am.” My heart stopped. No. No, no, no. I didn’t want to face this yet. “I’ve wanted to say it—” He stopped when he noticed my shaking head. “What?”

  “It’s okay. We don’t have to do this. Really. Let’s just . . .” Just what? I didn’t know. I inhaled as deeply as I could, exhaling the pressure building there and collected my thoughts. “Let’s just not, right now.”

  Kevin nodded his head slowly, his brows pinched. “Um, okay.” I swallowed the lump in my throat, calming my racing heart. “How about we start simple? How are you?”

  Simple? Ha. Nervous, nauseous, scared, overwhelmed, happy. They were all accurate. Instead, I settled on, “I’m good. How are you?”

  His eyes scanned my face and his smile grew wider. “I’m great, Ana. Better than I’ve been in a while.”

  “Good.” Seeing the sparkle in his eyes made my cheeks heat. Turned out it didn’t matter how long we’d spent apart, I could still read the look in his eyes and knew he was happy to see me. I would’ve known that look had we been separated a hundred years.

  “Well that didn’t last long.” He chuckled. “How was Vanderbilt?”

  “For the most part, stuck up.” He laughed again and the sound settled into my bones, making me feel weightless. I used to love making him laugh. It was like I’d won a reward for being me. “Not everyone. I made some good friends, but I didn’t always quite fit in. You know how I feel about country music.”

  “Oh, yeah. Living in the country music capital must have been awesome for you.”

  “It’s about seventy-five percent of all radio stations down there. I had to invest in Pandora.”

  “You poor thing.” He gasped, pulling his hand to his chest.

  I nodded. “Just horrible.”

  “Did you stick with teaching, like you’d originally planned?”

  “I did. I already did my student teaching in Tennessee, so I only have a few things to finish up here. What about you? What’s your major?”

  “Much to my parents’ dismay, I gave up soccer and eventually settled on marketing with a focus in sports marketing.”

  “That fits you.”

  A long pause fell over our table. The sparkle from his eyes faded into sadness while he stared at my face. I looked away as I took a drink of my coffee. My hands trembled and a knot formed in my throat.

  I could do this. I could keep it light. It was okay.

  I could do this.

  The repeated words did nothing to stop the ache from spreading through my chest. I needed to get the conversation going again, something to divert the attention away from how we were both so obviously remembering the past. My mind scrambled for a rope to grab on to. “How are your parents?” I finally asked.

  “They’re good. Dad retired around my sophomore year, so they’ve been traveling a lot.”

  I smiled, remembering all the times his mom talked about what they would do once she convinced his dad to retire. “I’m glad she’s finally getting what she wanted.”

  “Yeah, she’s enjoying herself.” He swallowed hard before asking a question of his own. “How was living with your dad? Or better yet, his girlfriend?”

  “Oh, you mean his wife?” I nodded as his eyebrows raised in question. “Yup, had a small ceremony last year. Said she didn’t need many people or a big wedding, as long as Jesus was there.”

  “Interesting.”

  “It sure was. But you know what?” Taking a deep breath, I admitted something that took me a while to accept. “I held onto blaming her for taking my mom’s spot, but it faded. She wasn’t that bad. She was easy to make fun of for all her weirdness and Jesus talk, but she was also hard to dislike because of how nice she was. Especially after we had the talk about how I wasn’t going to church with her anymore.”

  “Oh yeah? How did she take that?”

  “It was okay. She said she would say prayers for me and would hopefully meet me for brunch afterward. I decided that was an acceptable halfway point for us. It was nice since my dad wasn’t really around. Too busy with work. So, she was a decent companion while I was there.”

  “I’m sorry your dad wasn’t around more. I know how you missed him. I’m sure you hoped being there would allow you to get closer.”

  Of course he did. Just another thing that drove home how well he knew me. We sat across from each other and pretended like we were old friends just catching up.

  But the reality was that we were best friends who fell apart in the worst way. This man had known me better than I’d known myself and, even after three years, he probably still did. We’d shared our lives together and while we could put that aside for a little bit, it was bound to come up again.

  I wasn’t ready for that day.

  So, I brushed it off. “Yeah, it was okay. Same old, same old.” Shrugging, I prepared to make my exit. “Well, I better get going. I need to get some homework done and swing by to see my mom.”

  “How is she by the way?” he asked with concern, watching me sling my backpack over my shoulder as I stood.

  “She’s . . .” How did I explain it? Just trying caused a pinch in my chest. “She’s okay. It’s still treatable, and we’re going to begin chemo and radiation soon.”

  “I’m sorry, Ana.” He stood too and rested a hand on my shoulder. It was the first time we’d touched and it sent a blazing spark through my whole body. I couldn’t get my tongue to form words. Instead, I managed a tight-lipped smile and a quick nod.

  “Listen, I enjoyed seeing you. Really enjoyed it.” His throat bobbed when he swallowed. “Can I give you my number? We can keep in touch. You know if you need any help with calculus. Or I do.” He laughed.

  I nodded and pulled my phone out of my purse with shaking hands. This was more than a meet up to chat. He was asking to rekindle our friendship. I took a moment to assess the feelings rushing over me, trying to differentiate them. There was doubt and pain. But there was also hope and want. I wanted this.

  He gave me his number and I sent him a message. “There. Now you have mine, too.” He smiled and saved my contact into his phone.

  “Let’s do this again soon.” It wasn’t a question and the command held my eyes to his, allowing more than a suggestion to pass between us. It took all my willpower to divert my eyes and push back the memories of all the other commands he’d given me in the past.

  “Ye-,” my throat caught on the word and I cleared it, trying again. “Yeah. That sounds good. I’ll see you around.”

  I bolted and didn’t look back. But I didn’t need to. I could feel his eyes on me until I exited. It seemed all that time away hadn’t broken the connection we’d formed before, and it both excited and terrified me.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ke
vin

  Ana: I’m never going to make it through calculus. It’s a stupid course and I hate it.

  Me: Well, maybe if you stop staring at me during class and start listening, it wouldn’t be so bad.

  Ana: Ha. Ha.

  Me: I don’t blame you. I’m gorgeous.

  Ana: You’re something.

  Me: What am I Ana? *Stroke* my ego.

  Ana: You’re a riot.

  Me: I’m here for you.

  Me: We still on for dinner tomorrow night?

  Ana: Wouldn’t miss it for the world.

  Two weeks.

  It took us two weeks before we fell back into our routine from high school. The only difference was that we didn’t live right next door to each other anymore. It started as text messages the weekend after the coffee shop. Simple messages talking about our day. Then it switched to phone calls where we would watch shows or movies together, laughing until she couldn’t stay awake any longer. Part of me wanted to ask her to stay on the phone and lay it on the pillow next to her. I missed the sound of her next to me. But I didn’t want to freak her out. Hell, I was a little weirded out by that desire. It bordered along the lines of being a creeper.

  Most days we met for lunch, except for the ones she spent with Andrew. I hated the thought of them together, but we didn’t talk about it. Ana acted aloof about it and avoided the topic, so I followed her lead.

  I tried to subtly ask Katelyn about Andrew since she knew him, but she only had nice things to say. Which annoyed me more. Why couldn’t he be a dick and I could justifiably dislike him, aside from being jealous of his time with Ana.

  I had to stop asking questions, because Katelyn thought I was jealous and began hinting at having slept with him and asked if it would’ve bothered me. My negative answer disappointed her, and I knew it was time to officially break off any romantic connection we had. I didn’t want to lead her on and the closer we got to the end of the year, the more and more attention she sought from me. It was only fair to her.

  With Katelyn, there was no jealousy. But with Ana, it burned brightly, even though I had to push it into a corner. I struggled on the nights she told me she couldn’t meet for dinner, or the nights she called later than usual because she’d just gotten home.

  But no matter what, hearing her voice and her laugh soothed any issues I had. I was getting my friend back and that trumped all.

  We agreed to go out the next night and I could barely wait to pick her up for dinner.

  She looked stunning in simple skinny jeans and a black thermal. I couldn’t hold back the smile when I spotted her familiar black chucks.

  “Do you have a specific school you’re hoping to teach at?” I asked as we shared a pizza at one of my favorite restaurants.

  “I’d love to be outside of Cincinnati, more in the suburbs. They just have better funding and academics.” She took a bite of her pizza and held up her finger, wanting to continue. She didn’t wait to finish chewing before she mumbled out, “And a better crime rate. I’d hate to get shot or mugged in my first year.”

  “That would definitely be a downer.”

  “What about you?” she asked, lifting a glass of wine to her lips. It took me a second to answer because the way her lips wrapped around the glass distracted me. “Kev.”

  Shaking my head, I refocused on the conversation. “I’m not sure. I want to stay close to home. Hopefully in Cincinnati. I love it here.”

  “Yeah, it definitely feels good to be home.” She finished her slice of pizza before speaking again. “Do you keep in touch with any old friends?”

  “Not really. What about you?”

  “Gwen and I email. She gets on me for not having any social media, but I figure if I’m going to be a teacher, it’s better to not even have them.”

  “I noticed that,” I admitted.

  She raised her eyebrow at that, but didn’t say anything. “Do you still talk to Sean?”

  “No.” Lifting my beer, I took a long drink, giving myself time to think about my answer. But then I put my glass down and looked over at Ana. My Ana. I didn’t have to think through my words. “We didn’t keep in touch, and honestly, I took the opportunity to leave it behind. I had no one around expecting me to behave a certain way like they did in high school. It was like a fresh start for me.”

  “I know that’s what you always wanted.” She downed the rest of her wine in one gulp. “Besides, I’m sure it’s nice not having their accusations hanging over your head.”

  It took me a moment to understand what she was alluding to, but seeing the way she avoided my eyes and ran her thumb up and down the condensation on her glass, I knew she meant everything that was said the night of the party. “Ana . . .” I paused, not knowing what to say next. Not knowing how to formulate a big enough apology for what I did.

  “It’s nothing. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who’s sorry.” I thought about saying more, but a redness tinged her cheeks, and I didn’t want to make her any more uncomfortable than she was. Instead, I pulled out my wallet and counted off enough money to pay the bill and for the tip. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

  I held out my hand to help her from the booth, but she didn’t take it. I swallowed back the disappointment, and followed behind her to the door. We walked a few blocks in silence, enjoying the crisp air and clear night. When someone walked too close to me, I had to crush into her space to avoid getting plowed over, but she pulled back again as soon as the sidewalk cleared. Just the brief contact, even through a thick jacket, was enough to set my blood on fire.

  Despite all the time we’d spent together over the past few weeks, we hadn’t touched. She’d avoided every chance of contact and gave me wide berth, just like she did tonight. I hated it yet understood it at the same time. I tried not to push it, but shamelessly took advantage of every chance to walk close to her the rest of the way.

  We stopped outside of a five-story brick building. “This is my place.”

  Ana turned to me with wide eyes, the gray shining like silver under the lamppost. “Kev, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “We don’t have to go in. Just trust me.”

  After a pause, she gave a slight nod, licking her lips. The building didn’t have an elevator and we walked up the flights of stairs, passing my door on the fourth floor. When we reached the top, I swung open the metal door leading to the rooftop. She took in the benches, picnic tables, and loungers laying out on the gravel.

  “It’s no rooftop terrace, but everyone in the building is pretty cool about sharing the space.”

  “It’s amazing.”

  I led her to two pool chairs similar to the ones in my old backyard that we’d laid out on so often. I let Ana get settled first before I dragged mine next to hers. We didn’t talk, just stared up at the night sky and twinkling stars. If I closed my eyes, I almost could’ve been back four years ago.

  “God, I’ve missed this,” Ana whispered.

  “I missed you,” I confessed, the memories of the moment too much to hide my emotions behind. I’d missed her so much, and I needed her to know. I hoped she could hear the regret in my words. When she didn’t respond, I turned to look at her and saw her eyes pinched closed. Her chest rose on a deep breath before she spoke.

  “Let’s not talk about that tonight. Let’s just enjoy each other.”

  I wanted to pin her to the seat and make her listen to me. Hear my apologies and see my sorrow, make her forgive me. But I didn’t want to push her. I didn’t want the night to end. “Okay.”

  I almost swallowed my tongue when she spoke again, asking a question laced with more danger than the apology I wanted to force on her.

  “Have you found anyone else? Anyone like us?”

  Her whispered words sucked the air from my lungs, and I struggled to formulate a response. I knew exactly what she was asking. And maybe she felt brave in the dark of night. Maybe she felt brave to ask t
he question in the familiarity of the situation. I didn’t know, but I wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to get closer to her. I wanted to share my secrets again, so maybe she’d share hers.

  “No. Not really.” I thought over the past three years. Especially, the one after my dad retired from politics, relieving the pressure of being found out and causing a scandal. I laughed thinking of that year.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. Just thinking of the year after my dad retired. I felt a freedom I hadn’t before and really looked into . . . that part of myself.”

  “How so?”

  “I found a sex club.”

  “A what?” She jerked up in her seat and gaped at me.

  I laughed. “Calm down. It was . . . an interesting experience. And one I found was not for me. It was actually more enlightening than any internet research I could’ve done.”

  “How so?” she asked, laying back down.

  “Well, I’m not into whips and all the tools that come along with typical BDSM. I’m pretty sure I was a deer in headlights most of my visits, watching the people use the equipment.” I laughed again at how naive I felt walking through the club. “It was a cool place, and I met some interesting people, but not my scene. I’m more into privacy. I’m not into tying someone to a cross and whipping them as much as controlling someone and—” I cut off, feeling that old shame creep back into my chest. Looking over, I took Ana in, and was again reminded that this was Ana. My Ana. I could tell her anything. “And degradation. I liked to see how far someone was willing to go to please me. That was my kink. As well as some others here and there. But not enough to need to join a club.” I didn’t have to look at her to know my words affected her. I could hear her short, choppy breathing and it went straight to my dick. I subtly rearranged my hand over my lap, hoping she wouldn’t notice the boner stretching my jeans. “But it left me afloat again. Back to square one, trying to find someone who I wouldn’t scare away. I guess I just became less ashamed of who I was and ways to work around it.”