Through Your Eyes

by Ali Merci

  “Yeah.”

  Silence fell on them once again, this time stretching for a little longer than before. A small part of Asa knew lunch break was already over by now, but the more dominant part of him simply didn’t care just then.

  “Hey, Asa?” Wyatt spoke after a while. “How’d you fall in love if you never got to know all of her? Like how does that work?”

  “Because when you fall for someone, it’s never for every single part of them,” Asa said seriously, his voice low. “You fall in love slowly, one piece of them at a time. You never get all of someone at the beginning itself. Whether it’s one week from now, or a month, or even a year, there’ll always be something you haven’t yet discovered in the person you love. There’s still another piece buried in them that’s going to make you fall a little bit more. The start of a relationship doesn’t mean the end of falling in love.”

  “So even if she didn’t let you all the way in...” Wyatt let the question hang in the air between them, tilting his head to glance at Asa.

  “Even if she didn’t let me all the way in, it doesn’t mean I fell in love with an illusion or a mirage. Whatever pieces of her she gave me, they were real. Her not opening up to me doesn’t invalidate my feelings. It just doesn’t let me love her the way she deserves to be loved. It creates a barrier in our relationship that sort of leaves us…stagnant. We couldn’t move forward. And you know me, I don’t do half measures. I can’t.”

  “But it was real.” Wyatt smiled, eyes warm.

  Asa let out a small laugh, and even to his own ears, it sounded a little broken. “Of course it was real,” he murmured, feeling that hollow space inside him ache for a fleeting moment.

  It was real. Asa knew it was real.

  Because the pain was real.

  That knife with the jagged edge twisting into his chest was real. That emptiness in his rib cage where his heart had once been was real because Carmen goddamn West was real. And when you fell in love with someone as real as her, there was just no going back.

  “Look, man,” Wyatt sighed heavily, debating with himself for a few seconds before speaking again, “I’m not a romantic, just a good listener, really. But I’m also smart enough to know that this world lacks realness right now. Genuineness. So if you’re lucky enough to stumble across something as real as what you have, then you don’t let that kind of shit slip through your fingers. You fight for it. You hold on and you never let go.”

  “Even if it feels like I’m the only one fighting?” he asked quietly.

  Wyatt shrugged. “You can’t fight by yourself forever. She’ll either join you or tell you there’s nothing left to fight for. But yeah, until one of those two happens, you keep fighting.”

  Asa thought about Carmen, then: her hands on his face, asking him to tear down his armour because she believed there was beauty in what was inside; defending him from his own self; and her thumb caressing his cheek when she told him that he made this world a better place.

  And it hit him then: the cold unforgiving truth that there was no letting go of the one person to whom you’ve showed your soul.

  55.

  The Unforgiving Truth

  That dark cloud which had been hanging over Asa and following him around for the past week seemed to dissipate momentarily—not completely gone, but lingering in the distance. But he was still thankful because that gloomy haze seemed to have stopped clouding his vision and allowed him to see things a little clearer.

  The chat with Wyatt seemed to have released some of that pressure in Asa’s chest, allowing him some breathing space. Asa found that he could walk a little straighter, a little taller—like the whole world wasn’t about to cave in around him just then.

  It wasn’t so much about that he was actually considering the possibility of them having another shot together, but the simple discovery that Asa didn’t need Carmen to relieve that pressure in his chest.

  Yes, she might have put it there and she might have been the one who made him feel like he’d been holding his breath ever since that god-awful morning after Thanksgiving. But letting some of that hurt out, opening up to Wyatt—that was what made him feel like he could breathe a little again.

  So yes, it was nice for him to know he didn’t depend on her, but the fact still remained that if he could choose, he would choose for her to be the one he spilled his heart to. And he’d keep choosing her.

  Asa was choosing her now. He was choosing to plant his feet into the ground and to fight. Because, after all, their foundation had always been solid, hadn’t it? They’d started off right. It was only somewhere along the middle that they’d started to crumble. A place where Asa knew he wanted to keep going and Carmen couldn’t make up her mind. That was what had hindered the progress of wherever it was that they’d been heading towards.

  Asa’s mind kept flickering back to that morning, wondering if maybe he could’ve approached the matter in a gentler manner, if maybe he should’ve subdued his usual aggressiveness.

  Perhaps he should have toned down the yelling. Perhaps he shouldn’t have allowed much of his hurt to be seen so that Carmen wouldn’t have the guilt factor added to everything else she seemed to be going through.

  But these were all things that were of a fixable nature. They—Carmen and Asa—were fixable. He should know. He’d been broken one too many times only to patch himself together, and something told him Carmen had done so too.

  The morning of the fight was fixable. Because if Asa went to her now, without feeling ambushed the way he had when he’d run into Hunter there, he knew they could have the same conversation again with the benefit of a clearer mind.

  Carmen would’ve also had time to think things through by now, and if he were to ask her once more whether she would be willing to let him in sometime in the foreseeable future, then maybe the two of them weren’t so hopeless after all.

  They were fighters, the two of them. And so he knew—he knew—that they had it in them to work this out.

  Love alone may not be enough but if he loved her and she him, then didn’t that mean there was still something worth fighting for?

  Asa hadn’t seen Carmen so far today but school was almost over now, and he was glad he didn’t have anything for last period.

  He was even more grateful towards the fact that it was one of those days when his spare period fell on the same hour as Carmen’s. And didn’t she always spend hers in the art room?

  He hesitated once he reached the familiar classroom and it struck him right then, in that split second, that the walls of the room he was about to walk into probably knew more of Carmen than he did, that it held pieces of her that he’d never so much as get a peek into.

  It was kind of sad.

  But he shook it off, and with his heart in his throat, pushed the door open.

  She wasn’t there.

  The empty classroom greeted him, all the chairs tucked under the tables and supply closet closed; there weren’t any materials out, nothing to imply that Carmen had been there.

  Maybe she was still making her way to the class or she decided she didn’t want to spend her spare in the art room today.

  Asa didn’t really know why she wasn’t there, but maybe that should’ve been the first red flag, because if Carmen wasn’t there yet, it either meant that she hadn’t attended school or that she was deliberately avoiding him—two scenarios that were completely unlike her.

  But Asa gave her the benefit of the doubt and shook the unsettling feeling off.

  He stood in the doorway for a few more minutes before turning around and letting the door close shut behind him, when he bumped into someone.

  Asa’s body must have registered who it was before his eyes did, because his right hand instinctively went around the shorter person’s waist and steadied them. And even during the heartbeat that it took for Asa to drink in Carmen’s face, his hand was somehow pulling her closer against him at the same time.

  But that was always how it had been so far, right? His sen
ses were always aware of her presence before he ever had a chance to see her for himself.

  Whether it was his eyes beginning their search for her the instant he stepped into the cafeteria, or the way he breathed easier when she was just an arm’s distance away, or even how he felt a wave of warmth wash over his insides when he felt her eyes on him.

  Why was he still surprised by it all? Hadn’t he already acknowledged Carmen was in his bloodstream and there was no flushing her out of his system?

  “Hey,” he breathed, face tilted down as his eyes searched hers for something—anything—but they just stared back, unblinking.

  Those eyes of hers looked just like they would any other day, but Asa was beginning to realise it wasn’t that they held no particular emotion in them. It was that they were guarded.

  But that was okay. It was okay. Nothing time and effort couldn’t mend.

  “H-hi.” Carmen blinked, obviously taken aback at running into him. But it was only a matter of seconds before she regained her composure, and then her hands came to rest on his hips as she straightened herself and found her footing.

  Carmen stepped back, clearing her throat, as she removed her hands from his body, causing his to fall away from her waist too.

  “Um.” She tried to smile. “I went to the pool. Thought you’d be there cause it’s a spare period.”

  “You went looking for me?” he asked with a tilt of his head, a fluttery feeling in his chest. She was here. Carmen was here. And that gaping hole in his chest didn’t feel so hollow anymore. It still hurt, but in the most beautiful way possible—if that even made sense.

  She nodded. “Yeah, I wanted to talk to you.”

  Asa offered her a small smile. “Good,” he murmured. “I wanted to too.”

  He moved his hand behind him, feeling around for the doorknob without taking his eyes off her, eventually succeeding in getting the door open and pressing his back against it as he stepped aside to let Carmen in.

  She walked past him, their torsos and arms brushing together for a fleeting second before the moment was gone and then she was inside the room, with Asa following right behind.

  “Listen…” Asa sighed, sitting on the edge of one of the tables and scratching the back of his head. “About last week.” His voice trailed off when he lifted his head and met Carmen’s eyes.

  Because it felt like—literally felt like—an eternity since he’d last seen her and the sudden overwhelming wave of affection and longing that hit him right then made him falter in his speech.

  His chest swelled, feeling like it was about to combust with all the emotions blending into one gigantic knot there. But one emotion—one single emotion—stood out from the rest that were colliding into each other within him.

  And it was that heartbreaking but also heart-mending emotion that made whatever he’d wanted to say slip away as he leant forward and wrapped his hand around Carmen’s forearm.

  Asa slid his hand down her arm slowly, feeling the smooth skin under his rough and calloused palm, stopping its descent only when he reached her wrist. He unwrapped his hand from around it and then laced his fingers through hers, before tugging her forward closer to him.

  Carmen looked like she wanted to say something, but he watched her snap her mouth shut when he rested his forehead against hers. Asa lifted his other hand and ran his thumb along the apple of her cheek, feeling his breathing grow heavier.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, cupping her face with both hands and raising his chin to place a lingering, heartfelt kiss on her forehead. “I shouldn’t have yelled.” He winced at the memory, and then brushed the tip of his nose against hers. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?” Carmen frowned, blinking in confusion.

  “Not for what the fight was about,” he told her, a hesitant smile on his face. “But the way I approached the matter.” He pressed his lips together, thinking through what he was about to say instead of letting his emotions get the better of him this time. “I just—that morning, I came over to make sure you were doing okay, but then Hunter was there and everything else just flew out of my mind. I don’t—I think I—I just felt cornered, I guess? It was like a sudden slap to the face, seeing him there, and the disbelief and anger took over my want to make sure you were all right…”

  “Asa—”

  He shook his head, wordlessly asking her to let him just say whatever he needed to say. “No, I just—I wanted to make sure you didn’t feel like I was coming down too hard on you—or—or that I was pressurising you to tell me everything then and there. Because that wasn’t my intention, you need to believe that. I wouldn’t… wouldn’t intentionally put you on the spot like that—”

  “Those are all fixable things, Asa,” Carmen muttered, averting her gaze.

  “Yes.” The word left Asa’s mouth in a breath of immense relief because yes yes yes they were on the same page. “And we can do that, I know we can. So if you need time to start letting me in, then—then it’s okay. It’s okay. But just tell me that its time you need. Tell me that, and we can get through this, okay?”

  He watched as Carmen’s lips parted, that happy twinkle in her eye lighting up the way it did the night of the party and then again on the night of their date. He watched as her face softened and a smile began to form on her lips.

  And then Asa also watched as the smile froze midway as if it was severed by a startling realisation. He watched as the tenderness in her expression morphed into a guarded one instead, and then saw that spark he’d ignited in her grey irises fade out and die.

  That should’ve been the second red flag.

  But hope was a dangerous thing, and Asa clung to it like it was a lifeboat instead.

  Carmen’s eyes filled with a tangible kind of sadness, and she closed them with a deep sigh, shaking her head that was nestled in Asa’s hands. Then, ripping apart that lifeboat inside Asa into smithereens, Carmen placed both her hands on each of Asa’s and pulled them away from her face.

  There was a sinking feeling in Asa’s stomach but his grip on that lifeboat tightened. For a brief moment, he wondered if perhaps they weren’t on the same page after all. If it was just him grasping at straws in the wind now.

  “You’re right,” Carmen told him slowly, as if she was fighting to keep her voice steady and neutral. It disappointed Asa, that even now when they’re trying to talk it out, she was masking her feelings.

  But he pushed away the disappointment, reminding himself that this was probably new to her, that she needed to adjust to the whole notion of talking about what she was really feeling.

  “I do need time with the whole letting-other-people-in issue…” Carmen’s tone was cautious, as if she was weighing each word before they left her mouth, and Asa wanted to hug her, to tell her she didn’t need to walk on eggshells around him of all people.

  “Okay,” Asa whispered, nodding his head while his lips stretched into a tiny, endearing smile. “Okay, Carmen. See, this is good. It’s good. You’re telling me what you want. That’s all I could ask from you. That’s all I needed you to say the morning after Thanksgiving.”

  But when he noticed the sadness in her eyes only grew heavier, it began to get harder to ignore those red flags.

  “Asa,” she struggled to say, her voice tight and pained, “Asa—we—that’s not the problem. My need for time to open up completely isn’t…it isn’t where we went wrong.” Carmen shook her head and took a step back. “That’s not the problem,” she repeated.

  Asa’s brows knitted, the v on his forehead becoming prominent as his confusion increased and his mind replayed every single second of their fight with utmost clarity.

  “Is this about Hunter, then?” he asked quietly, turning his face the other way and pursing his lips for a while before he met her eyes again. “Because if it is, well, I—I can work on that. I’m not saying I can forgive him. But I can tone down on my hostility towards him when we’re in your presence.” Asa paused, looking down at his lap and scratching the rou
gh material of his jeans near his kneecap. “That whole scene in the kitchen when you offered to walk Hunter to the door, that, uh, it won’t happen again.” He looked back up at her and shot her an apologetic, lopsided smile. “Well, at least I’ll try to behave.”

  Carmen just stared at Asa, the look on her face being the definition of heartbreak as he watched her resolve to remain neutral and unfazed began to crumble.

  “Carmen…?” he began worriedly, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach and leaving his bones cold at the same time.

  She shook her head in response, as if she simply couldn’t bring herself to speak yet. And when she did finally manage to find her voice, Asa wished he could un-hear the helplessness and remorse woven through every word that fell out of her mouth.

  “That’s not the problem either, Asa,” she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. And then something in her expression broke, and she squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head repeatedly as apologies after apologies kept tumbling out her mouth uncontrollably.

  “Oh my God,” she was muttering frantically to herself. “What have I done? What have I done? I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t —Asa, I’m so goddamn sorry—”

  “Hey.” Asa jumped off the table and moved towards her, placing his hands on her shoulders in worry. “Hey, look at me. Look at me.” He took a hold of Carmen’s chin but she still wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Mírame. Mírame, Carmen.”

  Carmen grabbed Asa’s hand which was cupping her chin, her fingers holding on to it so tight he wondered if their imprints would be left around his wrist. Her eyes met his, and the raw but unidentifiable emotion in them knocked the air out of Asa’s lungs.

  “I did something,” Carmen told Asa in a barely audible voice, her breaths sounding laboured even to his own ears.

  Asa frowned, tilting his head slightly to the right as he observed her. Why did she sound so scared and worried? There wasn’t anything truly terrible that Carmen could’ve done to elicit such a deep sense of remorse from her.