Always a Love Song

by Charley Clarke

It was an opening. A small, silent one, but more than she’d had a second ago.

  She seized it, careful to sit as far away from Alex as possible so as not to spook her. Even so, Alex draped the blanket over Bridget’s shoulders, too, so they shared it. Bridget’s heartrate hadn’t come down yet. If anything, it had increased. Being this close to Alex without being able to reach out and touch her was miserable. How could she ever have given this up? What a damned fool she’d been.

  “We need to talk,” Alex said, voice soft.

  Bridget blinked. Was this the part where Alex asked her to leave town? She wouldn’t be wrong to do it. Alex had given so much to this town, and Bridget hadn’t even thought about giving back until someone had told her to. If Alex didn’t want her around, she would go.

  Alex’s shoulders shook as she breathed in and out deeply. “That night at the theater, we, uh, we left a lot of things unsaid.”

  Bridget nodded, hardly breathing, hardly letting herself hope. Alex had cut that conversation short, but here she was opening it up again.

  “You said something that made me question how I’d been looking at things all this time. You, uh…” Alex cleared her throat. “You told me you’d give up your career to take back your decision.”

  Bridget didn’t have to ask for clarification on which decision Alex meant. She’d tried not to think much about that night, instead focusing on the future—on music and writing and the fall festival. Along the way, she’d pushed out memories of what had happened in Alex’s office, the kiss that had left her knees weak and her body aching for the ghost of what might have been.

  Her chest tightened. This was the moment she’d been dreading since she came home, the moment she’d have to explain herself. She didn’t want to hurt Alex any more than she already had. “I told you. I was young and stupid. Of course I regret it.”

  “That’s not an explanation.”

  No, it wasn’t, and Alex deserved an explanation. Bridget bit her lip. Alex probably couldn’t hate her any more than she already did.

  “I know I wasn’t in the best state of mind,” Alex said, her voice dangerously close to breaking, “but I guess I just can’t understand why you gave up on something so great unless…unless you didn’t think it was good.”

  Bridget shook her head. “That’s not it at all. Most of the time, we were fantastic together.”

  “Then you fell out of love with me? Because I couldn’t give you what you wanted, or…?”

  “No, no, no.” Bridget swiped a hand through her hair and swallowed thickly. “I didn’t do it because I didn’t love you anymore. I did it because I loved you.”

  Alex’s brow creased. “What? You thought leaving me would somehow benefit me?”

  Oh, this wasn’t going well at all. Hearing it out loud made Bridget cringe. She sighed, thinking back to the moment she made the stupidest and most well-intentioned decision of her life. All that had been in her mind was that she couldn’t keep doing the same thing day in and day out, couldn’t see how things would change unless she forced them to.

  She hung her head in her hands and rubbed her face. “I didn’t know what else to do,” she finally said. “We weren’t… We were just broken, and I couldn’t figure out how to fix us. So I tried to force it, but I did it in the worst possible way.”

  Alex stared at the ground.

  Bridget didn’t blame her. What could anyone say to that? But not all of the blame belonged to her. “For the longest time, I could imagine a future with you. It was just a given. But all of a sudden, I couldn’t imagine it anymore.”

  Her voice cracked on the last word. A flash of a future that she’d dreamed of but never was—where they said their vows in front of their closest family and hosted holidays at their home and fell asleep with their hands intertwined, their rings clinking against one another. She ached for what could have been. She ached for what their youthfully stupid selves had thrown away so callously.

  Alex still hadn’t replied. Instead, she’d buried her head in her hands.

  Bridget took a deep, shaky breath. At least Alex wasn’t running away, and that meant she had to say all the hard things they agreed on saying. “You told me you didn’t get the job.” And even though Alex didn’t need the details, she added, “That interpreting job in D.C. that you’d interviewed three times for, the one that was pretty much the only thing you’d been excited about in months. You turned it down, and then you lied to me about it.”

  Alex frowned, but she didn’t reply.

  It was answer enough.

  “That’s when I knew,” Bridget said. “That’s when I knew we couldn’t keep on like we were. You lied about that job, and maybe you didn’t exactly lie about selling your dad’s business, but at some point, you stopped planning on that and didn’t acknowledge it.” She wanted to cry. She breathed deeply until the urge passed, at least for now. What she would give to go back to that day and handle things differently. “When did we start lying to each other?”

  Alex, like always, was stoic to the point of being emotionless. “So, you left me? That wasn’t a very smart plan.”

  “I was twenty-three. Everything I did was dumb,” Bridget said. “But at least I had a plan. You weren’t making any decisions at all. Something needed to change, and you refused to even talk about it. What choice did you give me?”

  She stood up, letting the blanket flutter onto the swing. She needed distance from Alex, from that blank expression that infuriated Bridget more than anything. It was like she didn’t even care.

  As the frustration flared up, she leaned her bum against the railing and crossed her arms. “And I didn’t leave you. I left the situation. I’m not the one who didn’t pick up my phone for a year, remember?”

  Alex deflated. “Right. So, it’s all my fault. That’s what it always comes back to, isn’t it?”

  Oh, shit. Bridget had just made everything worse. What Alex needed wasn’t anger and accusations. It was understanding. Understanding that they’d both fucked up and that they both needed to change. “No, Alex…”

  “I know I shut down. I know I shut you out. And I know it wasn’t fair to you,” Alex said. “But can you honestly tell me you did it for me? To knock some sense into me and not because of any selfish reasons? Because from where I’m standing, as soon as you ditched me, your life took an upturn, and if you really wanted to fix us, somehow I don’t think me not picking up the phone would’ve stopped you.”

  Bridget’s first instinct was to deny, to protest, but she fought that. The slight hesitation was enough for the realization to sink in. She’d given up on them, and she’d left Alex behind.

  “No,” Bridget said, “I guess not.”

  “I need to go,” Alex said, heading down the back porch steps and toward the side of the house to bypass everyone sitting inside.

  Bridget walked after her. “What? Alex, wait.”

  “Apologize to your family for me.”

  “Alex, please don’t do this. Please don’t run away again.” Bridget’s voice was thick with emotion because this was what Alex did. She ran. And yes, they both shared the blame, but how were they ever going to move past it if they couldn’t face it, no matter how scary it was? “I know it’s hard, but if we try, we can get past this.”

  Alex stopped. She didn’t turn around, but she stopped. Sniffling, she brought her hands to her face, and her voice was muffled when she said, “Can we? I pushed you away—so far away that you went to a different state so you didn’t have to deal with me.”

  Bridget bit her lip. Hard. If she wasn’t careful, she’d start crying, too, and if she started, she might never stop. “You were in pain.”

  “So were you.” When Alex turned, there were no tearstains on her cheeks.

  Bridget nodded. “Yeah, I was, and our pain got in the way of us being able to give each other what we needed, and that’s no one’s faul
t.”

  “Isn’t it?” Alex chuckled mirthlessly. “I was the one who pushed you away. I was the one who could never talk about it. I was the one who blamed you for giving up on me. I was the one who didn’t pick up the phone after you left.” Her voice was even softer when she added, “And I’ve been running from that all this time. How is that not my fault?”

  All Bridget wanted to do was hold Alex, hold her tight until the tears came and went and all their hurt went with them. But Alex needed her space more than Bridget needed her touch. So she said, “There’s no shame in the truth, Alex. We loved each other, but we were young, and we let all the things that stressed us out and hurt us get in the way, and we lost sight of what mattered most—each other.”

  Alex took a moment to absorb her words. She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jeans, hunched her shoulders against the chill. Finally, her brown eyes met Bridget’s. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the part I played, for all the pain I caused you. I’m so sorry.”

  Bridget let the tears that had been threatening fall now. Fuck, did this hurt, like cleaning glass out of a wound before it could heal. The pain was necessary, but that didn’t make it any less excruciating.

  Alex gestured vaguely toward the street. “I need to go.”

  Nodding, Bridget followed her around the side of the house to where her truck was parked at the curb.

  “Thank you for being honest with me,” Alex said.

  She hopped in and barely got buckled up before pulling away, leaving Bridget standing on the sidewalk, feeling completely useless. Bridget watched the truck until it turned the corner. No matter what she did to try to make things better, she only ended up making them worse. At least it was out in the open now. No more hiding from the pain they’d caused each other. No more hiding from the blame. Maybe now they could finally move forward.

  If Alex ever wanted to talk to her again.

  Alex didn’t even get to the intersection before the tears started, and once they started, it quickly became a deluge. She turned the corner and pulled over, unbuckling as the sobs started, fast and violent.

  Shame ricocheted through her. Bridget did blame her. If only she hadn’t been depressed. If only she hadn’t been so emotionally stunted that she couldn’t have a proper conversation. If only she had picked up the phone after the breakup. That was all it would have taken. But no, she’d let her pain—over her dad’s death, over the split—cloud her judgment.

  What an absolute mess she’d made of her life.

  Bridget’s question from the other night echoed in her mind.

  What do you want?

  What did she want? The only way she could move forward was if she figured that out, but nothing had ever terrified her so much.

  Chapter Ten

  Then

  As Alex left her supervisor’s office, she sent Bridget a quick text telling her not to wait up. Like so many days over the past few months, she’d go straight to the café after her shift here. At first, it had been a way to stay close to her dad. But now, seven weeks out from his death, it was about the work. The work was the only thing that kept her mind busy, kept it off how empty she felt all the time.

  She sank into her desk chair and pulled on her headphones. That was the worst part—the emptiness. Right after it happened, she’d wake up with an ache in her chest like someone had cut her open during the night. Now, she worked a lot. She slept a lot. She drank a lot. At least it made the pain go away. It was the only way she knew how to get through it.

  But in two weeks, it would get better. She wouldn’t have to do all this back-and-forth anymore and would be able to devote herself full-time to the business her dad had loved. Not that Bridget would be happy about the new arrangement. Alex knew she was worried, but they just had to be patient. This would blow over in a few months, wouldn’t it?

  Her phone buzzed. Bridget had texted back a quick, emotionless, “Okay.”

  Alex ignored all the other notifications—a plethora of texts, some missed calls, even a handful of voicemails. She didn’t want to talk to anyone.

  When she arrived at the apartment after closing up the cafe, her eyes were tired and her feet were heavy. Good. That meant she could fall into bed and not care about anything. She was just marking time until the day she could feel something again. Now that she was armed with an action plan, she hoped that day would be sooner rather than later.

  She found a plate of chicken and potatoes in the microwave. After warming it, she dropped onto the couch to eat. Benny padded out into the living room to keep her company as she ate, lying on her feet. She turned on the news in the background but barely paid attention. So Bridget had gone to bed without her. She’d both wished for that and feared it. She had to tell Bridget eventually. And if Bridget didn’t want to move back home, well, they could do long distance. It was only an hour. They could make it work.

  And she could make Bridget understand that her dad had left the café to her, that the assistant manager could only act as the unofficial manager for so long, that decisions had to be made and Alex was the one who had to make them.

  She knew that now, even though at the beginning, a part of her had thought that if she never addressed it, it’d never be real, not entirely. Now, she hated that it meant he was really gone, but still, she would carry on his legacy.

  She let out a long breath, turned off the TV, and got up to load her plate into the dishwasher. She opened a bottle of beer and, leaning against the counter, gulped a third of it down.

  Oh, God. Tears pricked at her eyes. Her mom had died when she was so little that she hadn’t properly understood. But this wound was still fresh. She held her breath to hold back the tears.

  But she couldn’t hold her breath forever.

  She took another fortifying sip of beer, swallowing the rock in her throat at the same time, and went into the bedroom, where she got ready and slipped into bed beside Bridget, who was fast asleep. Benny jumped up, too, and settled at the bottom of the mattress.

  Even in the darkness, Bridget’s golden hair haloed her head. When Alex brushed a lock behind her ear, Bridget moved into the touch and stirred awake.

  Alex sighed. Would she want to come along?

  “Hey, baby,” Bridget murmured. She curled into Alex, tiredly burrowing into her neck and snaking an arm around her waist.

  “Hey,” Alex said. “Sorry I woke you.”

  “S’okay.”

  Biting her bottom lip, Alex ran her fingers up and down Bridget’s arm. The more she put this off, the harder it would get. “Since you are, though—awake—I should tell you that my schedule should get easier soon.”

  Opening her eyes, Bridget shifted to look at Alex properly. “Does that mean you’re stepping back from the café? Good. I’ve missed you.”

  “No. It means I put in my two weeks.”

  Bridget propped herself up on an elbow. “What? Why? I thought you were selling the café?”

  “I still can. I might. But I want to experience it before I make a decision, and I don’t want to do that hastily.”

  Bridget ran her fingers through her hair. “You don’t want to make a hasty decision, but you quit your job to focus on a café that you’re going to sell?”

  “Might. I said I might sell it.”

  Bridget lay back against the pillows, farther away from Alex now.

  Alex flipped on her side to face her. “What?”

  “I don’t know. You quitting your job seems like something we should’ve talked about, doesn’t it?”

  “I’m not asking you to move back home.”

  “Not yet.”

  Alex blinked in surprise. Could Bridget be that opposed to the idea? Lots of people commuted an hour to work. But it worked both ways. If it meant staying with Bridget, Alex would gladly drive an hour to and from the café each day.

  “Then we won’t move.
”

  “And you’ll never be here.”

  “Bridget…”

  “It’s not just that. Should you really have given up a steady job with health insurance? And what about that interview for the translating job? What if you get that? What then?”

  Alex hadn’t been able to think about that, really. That job was one her old self had wanted. It didn’t seem so important now, but that didn’t mean she’d discount it entirely. “I don’t even know if I’ve made it past the first round of interviews yet. It’s too early to take it into consideration.”

  “And when were you going to take me into consideration?” Bridget asked.

  Alex reached out, but Bridget shifted her hand away. She’d thought Bridget would want what was best for her.

  She pursed her lips. “You don’t want to move back home, but you’d move to D.C. if I got that job?”

  Bridget stared at the ceiling. A couple months ago, when Alex had applied, she wouldn’t have even had to ask. But that was before her world had tilted on its axis. It scared her that she didn’t know the answer now.

  “I don’t know. So much has changed since we first talked about it,” Bridget said, rolling onto her side, away from Alex. “I have an early shift. We should talk about this another time.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Alex stared at Bridget’s back until her breathing evened out. Then she settled onto her back and closed her eyes, knowing whatever sleep she got tonight would be restless.

  Now

  Alex was two glasses of scotch deep when Jaya appeared at her door.

  She held out a bag. “Evelyn asked me to drop these off for you. Leftovers.”

  “Right. Thank you.” Alex brushed her hair out of her eyes and took the bag. “I’m sorry I ran out.”

  Jaya held up a hand. “No explanation necessary. Healing takes time. Just make sure you give yourself enough of it.”

  Alex nodded even though platitudes didn’t get through to her anymore. Wasn’t five years long enough? Jaya meant well, though, and Jaya loved her. That counted for something.