He steps close to me and I feel my heart rate increase.
What is he doing. I think to myself. Why is he so close.
He reaches out a tentative hand and pushes a curl away from my face.
He tucks it behind my ear.
His fingers brush the skin on my cheek and I feel myself shiver.
He steps closer once more, leaning in to pull me to him.
But I jerk back.
Pull away.
Push him off.
"Ian," I say, my pulse rapid in my ears. "What are you doing."
He hangs his head, voice quiet, eyes glassy.
I see the battle he is waging within himself and it breaks my heart.
Regardless of the way my life turned out, I will always care for him.
That's not something that can just be turned off; forgotten.
"I miss you." he says.
My heart literally stops in my chest.
These words.
These words that I waited so long to hear from him.
They throw me off.
Catch me off guard.
Mix me up.
There was a time when they would have sent me spinning; made me dizzy.
But not now.
Not anymore.
I wish there was a way to tell him these things without hurting him.
I wish I could reach out and comfort him in the way I know he needs to be comforted, but I can't.
And to be quite honest, I don't think it's fair for him to expect me to.
"You missed your chance." I say, my voice is so quiet I'm not even sure if I said it out loud.
He nods.
Runs his hand over his face.
"It was lovely to see you, bella mio." he breathes.
The use of the old Italian pet name makes my heart ache in a familiar way.
And that is exactly the problem.
This hurt is familiar.
He made it familiar.
I nod, and run my hands subconsciously over my rounded stomach.
"You as well."
He smiles a weak smile at me and I feel guilty.
I feel so guilty that he feels so guilty.
"I'm sorry about Jane." I say feebly. "She's just really protective."
He laughs a laugh that sounds like pure nostalgia.
"She is good for you, Maura." he says. "She loves you."
I nod. "I love her."
He nods too.
This whole encounter seems to be quickly becoming a mixture of fake nods and forced smiles.
But I guess that was inevitable.
Old flames never die easy.
They burn out with a hiss and a crack and leave both people wondering.
Both people different; scarred.
And in the flames of that old love there are so many things.
So many mixed feelings.
So many what if's and maybes that make you wonder.
Make you nostalgic for the way it could have been.
He turns to walk away, but just before he does I call him back.
"Ian." I say. "Thank you."
His eyebrow cocks up, confused. "For what?"
"For giving me up."
He laughs again, and I realize that this is the last time I'll ever hear it.
Hear his laugh.
But somehow, it doesn't bother me.
Because as I hear the sound of his smile rising and falling, I also realize that I'd rather be hearing Jane's.
His deep rumbling laugh doesn't even hold a candle to her light airy one.
Not even a match.
"If you had stayed- if you had convinced me to come to Africa with you, I would have never found Jane. I would have never found the happiness that I did."
He nods and crosses his arms over his chest, urging me to continue with a swoop of his eyes.
"She loves me, Ian. She stays for me. And you..."
I trail off, not wanting to say the words that I'm thinking.
But he hears them.
He hears them without me even needing to open my mouth.
"I didn't stay for you."
I shake my head.
"No, you didn't."
"Maura," my name from his lips is like water. "Be happy."
I reach my hand out and grab his with my own, squeezing it gently before letting it fall back to his side.
"You too."
He hugs me, and his classic Ian scent overcomes me one last time.
Then he turns and walks from me.
Walking from my house to a world where I no longer exist in correlation to him.
And I realize that I am okay.
I am satisfied.
This goodbye is just like every other.
Except this one isn't leaving me broken; shattered.
Every other moment him and I ever shared ended with me watching his back as he walked away.
Leaving me with nothing.
But not this time.
This time, I am the one leaving him with nothing.
And I am the one standing here with everything.
I am the one closing the door.
Saying goodbye.
Because this time I am doing something for myself.
I am choosing happiness.
I am choosing Jane.
And I think, that somewhere inside of me, I always was.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I've been choosing her all along.
I let him walk away, because I knew something better was coming.
Someone better was coming.
And she did.
And she is everything I ever dreamed she'd be.
I quietly place small round dishes into the drying rack next to the sink and wipe my hands clean.
Above me, I hear Jane walking to and from, going about her nightly routine.
It's late.
So late
And I am so tired.
I ascend the stairs slowly, gripping the railing hard as the tightness in my lower back decides to get tighter.
After today, after everything, all I want to do is see her.
Feel her.
Fall asleep tucked into her.
I push our bedroom door open and hear the water in the bathroom running steady.
I change quickly, taking in the contents of our bedroom
Our life.
Gently I pick her teeshirt up from the ground and fold it.
And I've never been so happy about folding anything in my entire life.
I look around me and realize how current she is.
How alive.
My home vibrates with the presence of this other woman and it fills me so completely.
So finally.
And I smile.
Right then, she emerges from the bathroom, light spilling into the otherwise dark room.
"Hey," I say, my voice all breathy and excited.
God, she is so beautiful.
She doesn't respond, only stands there, in the light of the doorway, looking at me.
Her gaze makes me squirm.
I place her shirt down on the dresser and take a step closer.
She takes a step back.
"Jane?" I call to her, worried. "Is everything okay?"
The look on her face is sending anxiety up and down my spine.
She shakes her head.
"Why don't you tell me."
Her tone is court, angry.
My heart is pounding.
I open my mouth to speak but close it immediately.
I have no idea.
"Oh what, Miss-know-it-all is finally at a loss?" she spits.
"Jane?" I question, suddenly shocked and awake. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" she shouts. "What's wrong is that my wife practically ripped her clothes off in front of another man down there, Maura!"
"Wh- what are you talking about?" My voice catches and breaks.
Stuttering.
I can hear my frantic tone and it makes me sound so weak.
So pathetic.
"And then, to make it even worse, she comes up here all smiley and giddy like a little school girl."
"That's not even a little bit true." I tell her.
I feel confusion rising within me, and with it, comes a tiny droplet of anger.
I am dizzy.
So dizzy with fear and anger and confusion.
And something else.
Something soft and nagging.
Something kicking and pulling and squirming in the pit of my stomach.
"Of course it isn't! Of course he just showed up at our house. Of fucking course you had to apologize to him for your lower class wife who is clearly so below him. So less qualified to be with you."
"That's not true!" I yell, the white hot fury building rapidly in my chest. "I didn't even know he was in town!"
She laughs, a maniacal, cynical, angry laugh that makes my blood turn to ice.
She takes a step towards me, and my heart pounds harder than it's ever pounded before.
For a moment, I forget what it is to breathe
For a moment, I feel like my chest is going to rip open.
My stomach going to combust.
It might as well.
She points her finger at me as she comes closer, closing the distance faster than I would have liked.
I back up, moving away from her as she just continues getting closer.
"You were happy to see him." she growls. "You're glad he came back for you."
"He didn't come back for me," I spit. "He came back to come back. It has nothing to do with me."
My back hits the wall and I have nowhere left to go.
I'm trapped in.
Caged.
"Do you still love him?" She whispers.
It is so quiet but so powerful.
So heated.
So. damn. mad.
"Of course not." I gasp. "It's you. It's always been you."
My mind is a battlefield, my heart so full of some kind of hybrid emotion that doesn't make any logical sense and it scares me.
The love of my life is questioning if I love her.
How is that even possible?
How could she ever think that I don't?
"I do not believe you, Maura."
She doesn't believe me.
She. doesn't. trust. me.
Her words are so precise, so measured.
It feels like a slap in the face.
A punch in the gut.
I don't want to fight.
I don't want to yell.
I ball my hands into fists ad dig my nails into my palms.
Everything inside me is going crazy.
And she will not stop squirming.
Will not stop kicking her feet into my ribcage.
And it hurts.
"Just go to bed," I breathe. "You're all flustered and angry. You'll be clearer in the morning." I tell her.
My voice is shaking.
I want more than anything to stop.
To sit.
To breathe.
I can. not. breathe.
She shakes her head and pulls away, simultaneously slamming her fist into the wall across from me.
The fury in her eyes is unbelievable.
It is though I can practically taste the venom she is spitting at me.
"Stop treating me like a child!" she bellows, voice dark and angry and unsure.
"Then stop acting like one." I yell back.
Then something snaps.
Metaphorically.
Literally.
I see her mouth moving but I don't hear the words.
Because I am feeling something else.
Something other than the fear pulsing through my veins.
Something other than my heart beat racing in my ears.
Something other than the blinding anger making my chest tight.
No.
What I feel is worse.
Much worse.
At first it was soft. Soft and gentle and innocent.
But every little bit as evil.
Every little but as disgusting.
Like a rope being pulled, seized from within me.
Suddenly, I gasp at the cramping.
The tugging.
I reach my hand out to find something solid to catch me as I feel my knees go weak.
And then she is there.
Her hands under my arms.
Breathing my name down my neck.
I hear her asking me what's wrong.
Where it hurts.
Everywhere, I want to say.
Somewhere outside the realm of my understanding I can her someone shreiking.
Someone making the kind of noises that should not even exist within the human body.
The kind of noises that sound like pain itself has been given a voice.
A platform.
And then I realize.
I realize with a swift kick that they're coming from me.
I'm the one screaming.
And then the pain consumes me.
Swallows me whole.
Puts
me
to
sleep.
I love you all more than words can even describe.
Thank you for your feedback, and I look forward to hearing more.
Blessings
O