The Things We Never Knew

by Megan Mayfair

  “Do you want me to take you home?” he asked.

  “Can we go back to your apartment?” she nestled into his arm.

  “If you can put up with my snoring.”

  She laughed. “More like if you can put up with mine.”

  “Of course, I can. I love you.”

  She froze. He loved her? She swallowed. The sound of blood pumping rapidly through her eardrums overtook the noise of the streets. Love? No. Surely he didn’t just say that. She’d misheard him.

  But he did say it. She knew that was what he said. She glanced at him, and he looked down at the pavement as they continued to walk. His hand was tense and rigid in hers.

  Taking a deep breath, she tried to steady herself. Should she say something, pretend that she hadn’t heard it? Or address it? Love? No. She liked him. She thought he was cute and funny and fun to be around. But love? No. That was something completely different.

  They walked half a block in a strange silence before he stopped and turned to her. He pulled her into him.

  She played with the button on his jacket.

  “Bebe, look at me.”

  She glanced up. Their eyes met.

  “I have to be honest with you. I didn’t mean to say that to you now.”

  Relief swept over her. “I thought it was a bit soon. I love hanging out with you, but love? No, this is just fun, isn’t it? I’m going to New York soon, and it’s not like this was going to last forever.” She gave him a bright smile. There was no reason for things to be awkward. Sometimes things slipped out accidentally, or the wrong thing was said. It wasn’t a problem. It wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe they could even have a bit of a laugh about it.

  But Harry wasn’t laughing. His face had fallen and even in the streetlight, he looked pale. He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose before replacing them.

  “Harry? Please say something,” she pleaded. There was a way out of this. It could be ‘unsaid’. It wasn’t too late.

  He blinked a couple of times. “I didn’t mean to tell you that now, as in today, but one day …”

  It was like being hit in the stomach by a baseball bat. Swift and brisk, but the pain rippled, causing little waves of nausea. She’d frozen when he’d said it, and then after he’d raised it again, she’d laughed it off. If there were a way to hurt the man any further, she didn’t know it.

  He walked to a bench that was near a taxi rank and slumped down. “I never thought of you as just a bit of fun,” he said, quietly.

  She took a deep breath as she sat next to him. “I didn’t mean it like that, but I don’t want to hurt you or lead you on.”

  “I take it back then,” he said. “Just pretend I never said it. Pretend I said that I loved your earrings or your dress.”

  “You did say it,” she said. “And I’m not sure if we can ever have that. I am leading you on.”

  “I’m not imagining what we have though?”

  No. He wasn’t imagining it. There was an undeniable spark, but what good was that? Or what was to say it would last? Perhaps it would come and go as quickly as things had escalated between them. “No, you’re not. But we always knew this wouldn’t be forever. I’m going to New York soon.”

  Harry took off his glasses again and rubbed his eyes before replacing them. “I knew that, but I thought that maybe …”

  “What? I’d stay here and give up everything?”

  “No.” He said this slowly and carefully. “I didn’t think about the logistics.”

  “I’ve lived my entire life on the move. I don’t know, settling down just seems like something that may not ever happen for me.”

  “Settling down? I never asked you to ‘settle down’. I’m not asking you to give anything up, but I thought you wanted to see where this went and then figure things out, not mark it up as a fling and forget about it.”

  “I never said it was a fling,” she protested.

  “That’s what you meant.”

  Had she? Perhaps she had, but when it was said with such a bitter tone in mid-argument, it sounded far different from what she’d ever intended.

  Harry removed his mobile phone from his pocket. “I’ll call you a taxi.”

  “I thought you were going to come back with me on the train.”

  “That’s not a good idea.” His voice was flat. His usual energy had evaporated. “I don’t want to confuse things further, and if that’s how things are between us, I think it’s best to walk away now.”

  “Oh.” She swallowed. She didn’t want to walk away, but she couldn’t give him what he wanted. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  He gestured to a taxi that pulled up to the curb.

  “I’m so sorry, Harry. All the time we’ve spent together means so much to me.” She leaned in to kiss him but he didn’t move. She planted a kiss on his cheek and got into the cab.

  Harry leaned through the front window and gave the driver the address. He looked in the cabin towards her, and gave her a solemn nod before stepping back to the sidewalk.

  The driver pushed the indicator down and pulled the car into the next lane.

  Bebe looked back, watching as Harry went farther and farther away, her heart and head trying to catch up with what had just happened.

  It was over. She had wanted that, hadn’t she? She’d known it couldn’t go on, but why did it feel so painful?

  Chapter 37

  Michelle looked at her reflection in the mirror and shuddered. Her eyes were dark and puffy. She looked like a panda thanks to the eyeliner and mascara smudged across her face.

  She heard the doorbell ring, followed by a knock on her bedroom door.

  “It’s Alfred for you,” her father said when she opened it.

  “Who’s Alfred?”

  “Tall guy.” He gestured to his own height. “He was here the other day.” He frowned, as if now uncertain.

  Her heart leapt. “Leon?”

  “That’s the chap. He’s in the living room.” He rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure why I thought his name was Alfred.”

  Michelle looked down at her pyjamas and brought her hands to her black-streaked eyes. “Now?”

  “Now.”

  “I look terrible,” she hissed, throwing a dressing gown around herself. She plucked a tissue from the box on her dresser and rubbed at her eyes.

  Her father shifted his weight. “Should I send him away?”

  “No!” She had to speak to him and as much as she wanted to make herself presentable, she couldn’t risk him leaving before she’d apologised. “I’m coming.”

  She walked out to the living room, where Leon was talking with her mother about someone called ‘Bob.’

  “I’m not sure if he still lives here, but I can ask Mum,” he was telling her.

  “Leon?” Michelle asked, pushing her hands into the pockets of her gown.

  Here he was looking hot in jeans and a polo shirt, and she looked hungover with last night’s make-up smeared over her face. She hadn’t even brushed her teeth that morning, or her hair.

  “Can we talk?”

  She nodded, relieved he was here. This was a good sign that he’d calmed down. Maybe they could apologise and start again, and take away this heavy feeling that sat in her stomach.

  Her parents were still standing in the living room and she gestured at her father, who nodded back.

  “Ah, Jennifer. I need you to help me with something in the garage.” He put his arm around her mother’s waist and led her out of the room.

  “What do you need my help with?” her mother asked loudly.

  “I’ll explain out there.”

  “Sorry,” she said, focusing on Leon. “I wasn’t expecting you, but I’m glad you’re here. I’m so sorry about last night.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t play games. I knew you had exes. I wish you had told me you were seeing him.”

  “I didn’t want to upset you.”

  “He kisse
d you?”

  She swallowed, and nodded. “It didn’t mean anything.”

  “I still wish you’d told me. I stood there like an idiot while he bragged about it.”

  Michelle’s heart ached at Leon’s hurt and at Ashton’s cruelty. “I’m so sorry.”

  “If you told him it was over; why did he show up last night? Did he think that he had a chance?”

  “I don’t know. He’d come all this way and I rejected him. He’s a brat. He’s used to getting whatever he wants.”

  Leon exhaled. “Look, Michelle. I care about you, but I need to be able to trust you, and after last night, I don’t think I can.”

  Her heart froze, and when it started beating again, it was so loud it was all she could hear. “You don’t trust me?”

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, and walked towards the door. He paused, and looked back. “I really wanted this to work.”

  “Leon, please!” She heard herself plead as the door slammed.

  She brought a hand to her mouth and ran back to her room, where she fell onto her bed, and cried as she cursed Ashton for not only hurting her, but causing her relationship with Leon to destruct.

  But as she rolled onto her back, she chastised herself. Ashton wasn’t to blame. She’d hurt Leon by hiding the truth from him and broken his trust in her.

  And for that, like failing her courses, getting thrown out of her degree and finding herself broke back on her parents’ doorstep, she had to take responsibility.

  After she’d cried so much that she gave herself a headache, she heard voices in the living room and walked down the hallway to find Mum, Dad, Pete and Clare were sitting on the couch, looking over at the entrance to the ‘good’ room. It was formal dining room —they only ate in there at Christmas. The rest of the year they ate at the kitchen table.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “Look!” Pete stabbed a finger towards the ‘good’ room where Timothy was crawling around the table, cooing in amazement as if extraordinarily impressed by his own feats. He paused and looked back towards his adoring audience and gave them a gummy, dribbly smile, as if perfectly cued for the camera before continuing on, making surprised-sounding gurgling noises.

  “He’s crawling.” Tears stung at the back of Michelle’s eyes. “That’s amazing.”

  “He’s so clever,” Mum beamed. “I told you he was. Just like you were, Pete.”

  “Were? I’m not clever now?” Pete asked.

  “Oh, you know what I mean.”

  Michelle watched as Timothy explored the floor of the ‘good’ room, and the legs of the chairs. He seemed so impressed with himself, and overawed by the dining table as he strained his little neck up to examine it, a somewhat confused look on his face.

  He turned and crawled back, eventually falling into Clare’s waiting arms, and was welcomed back by his parents with warm praises and kisses over his chubby cheeks.

  Michelle let out a sob, and everyone looked up at her.

  “Are you okay, honey?” Dad asked.

  She used her index finger to wipe away a tear. “That’s so amazing he went off exploring the world and then wanted to go home where it was safe and his parents were.” She struggled over the last word as she hiccupped.

  “Michelle, are you okay?” her brother asked, almost hesitantly.

  “Things are over with Leon.” She let out a sniff as the tears clogged her eyes and caused a lump to form in her throat. How were there still tears left to cry?

  “Oh, no! What happened?” Mum asked. “He’s such a nice boy.”

  “Too nice for me.”

  Clare raised an eyebrow and looked sideways at Pete. Mum stood and pulled her into a hug. “Sit down and tell us what happened.”

  “Maybe we should go,” Clare offered.

  Michelle shook her head. “It’s fine. I was stupid. Leon is a nice boy and I broke his heart, and mine.” More tears filled her eyes, and she wiped them away with her sleeve.

  “So, I take it that he didn’t calm down after last night?” Pete asked as Clare fumbled around in a giant baby bag, produced a small packet of tissues and handed them to her.

  Michelle stared at them absently. Her sister-in-law was always so prepared with things like that. It was probably why she had a degree, a solid career, a husband, a baby, and a lovely house. All those things required a certain level of practical wisdom that seemed to elude Michelle. She wasn’t even sure where one would purchase such neat little packets of tissues. The supermarket? A pharmacy?

  “What happened?” Mum looked around the room. She narrowed her eyes. “Did something happen last night at the party?”

  Michelle sniffed.

  “Honey?”

  She looked up from the tissues to her father and shrugged. “Ashton arrived from Canada asking to get back together the other day. I met him for a drink after the cooking competition and he said he wanted to try again and he kissed me.” She blushed at having to say this to her family. “I told him no and it was over, but last night he showed up at the engagement party, and Leon was hurt that I didn’t tell him any of this.”

  “How did Ashton find you at the engagement party?” Dad asked.

  “He tracked me down after I posted some photos online.”

  “That’s what happens when you put every moment of your life on the internet.” Pete shook his head.

  Clare put her hand on her husband’s arm. “It wasn’t her fault. Ashton shouldn’t have crashed a private party.”

  “I don’t care about Ashton. It’s Leon I hurt.” Michelle knotted the tissue into a ball. “He won’t forgive me.”

  “Did you tell him the whole story?” Mum asked. “He seems like an understanding—”

  “I did. He said he couldn’t trust me if I keep things from him. I thought I was protecting him, but clearly not.”

  “Maybe I could talk to his mother.”

  Everyone looked at Mum. Pete’s mouth fell open. Even baby Timothy let out a harsh squeal as if to chastise his grandmother for such a hare-brained suggestion.

  “Mum! He’s not a kid in the playground who you can march up to and demand to be my friend,” Michelle hissed.

  “Well,” Mum scoffed and clasped her hands together. “It worked when that Alice was being a little madam to Pete here. I made that princess apologise for throwing apples at him.”

  Michelle had forgotten about that. Yes, her mother had form on this.

  Pete groaned. “Mum!”

  “Or was it oranges? I can’t remember.” Mum looked to Dad for guidance.

  “I think it was apples,” Dad patted Mum’s leg. “Was it the whole apple, or just the core?”

  “Does it matter?” Pete muttered.

  “How are you feeling?” Clare asked.

  Pete rubbed his neck. “I’m fine now, I mean, it hurt when I was hit on the head with them, but it was so embarrassing when Mum told her off at pick-up time.”

  Clare gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Okay. I meant, Michelle. How are you feeling about this?”

  The sound of her name seemed to refocus the attention on Michelle away from Pete’s school day woes.

  “Like I’ve destroyed yet another thing in my life. Michelle Fitzgerald: the screw up of the family.” She shrugged. “It’s time I take responsibility for all the terrible choices I make.”

  “Don’t say that,” Pete said. “You’ve had a bad run of luck, that’s all.”

  “Losing my phone or breaking a heel—that’s bad luck. This is just hurting people and wasting everyone’s time and money. No wonder no-one believes in me.”

  She stood and retreated into the kitchen where she could try to find a snack and prepare to eat away her feelings. How much cheese could she manage to eat in one sitting, and more importantly, would it make her feel better?

  She heard footsteps behind her and knew it was her dad. Would he finally tell her he was disappointed in how everything had been for so many years? All the failures and wasting of family
money spent on her in Canada and university fees, and for what? Or about hurting such a decent man like Leon.

  “I believe in you, honey.”

  She turned to him and hugged him as further tears fell.

  When all the pieces of her life fell shattered, she could always rely on her family.

  Chapter 38

  Bebe swallowed two smooth, white tablets with her coffee. Aspirin was next to useless these days with her headaches, yet the act of taking it made her feel she was at least doing something to fight the pain.

  Aside from her headache, she knew the pills wouldn’t take away the heavy feeling at the pit of her stomach, which had been firmly in place since she’d ended things with Harry. There was no tablet to ease the uncertainty and emptiness.

  She ran a hand through the dresses in her wardrobe and finally settled on one she’d made a few months earlier. It was pink and covered in sequins. And despite working in a highly creative industry, it was still a bit much for work. But today, she needed sequins. She needed something to set her spirits soaring in such a miserable time, and if a beautiful dress couldn’t help, she was well and truly in trouble.

  After accessorising it with a bright pink cardigan and white boots, she walked towards the tram stop, trying to breathe in the cool morning air to ground herself and connect with the earth and its cycles.

  “Good morning.” Cole looked at the dress as she walked into the studio. “Did you just put that on or have you come straight from a club?”

  “I put it on today.” She looked down. “I ended things with Harry on the weekend, and I needed a bright look that didn’t make me feel terrible.”

  Cole’s mouth fell open, but he promptly shut it again and gave her a concerned look. “I’m sorry to hear that. Are you okay?”

  She placed her bag down at her desk and ran her hands through her hair. “I’m fine. It was the right decision.”

  “Let me make you a tea, and we’ll talk.”

  She didn’t want tea. Hot drinks reminded her too much of Harry, but Cole was already boiling the kettle and selecting mugs.