~ Cut or Stitch ~
Pov Aubrey
I close the door behind me and head quickly to the car parked in front of Beca's house, so that I can go to Chloe. It's so absurd, you can't think of one without the other in mind. It's always been like that, and I knew it from the very first moment that something would happen between the two. I feel so guilty about making things more and more complicated, about not seeing Mitchell with different eyes and always rowing against her. I made a mistake, but now I hope I've done the right thing. For once. I've seen how much she cares about her, how deeply she's still bonded to Chloe. I just wanted to see it sooner, maybe I could have saved both of them a lot of suffering. Maybe I could have brought my best friend to her senses and not put gasoline on the fire. And that letter.. Damn it. I was an asshole. I just wish I could go back and get it back. Give it to her now. It would be the right push to make her understand what she's really doing, which is the biggest mess of her life. And as her best friend, or former best friend, who mattered, although I've supported this relationship with Chicago so far, I have to make her open her eyes. She can' t go on like this. I'm sure she loves him, but I'm also more than convinced that in her heart, there is and will always be the alternative girl from the Barden activities fair. Nothing can change this and she just has to admit it to herself. My father always says "age wrinkles your body, but quitting wrinkles your soul". Well, I don't want to see one of the most important people for me living a life with regrets. I should have done it sooner, but better late than never. Right?
I expected a different attitude from Beca, I had imagined the most disparate scenarios in which she would have done nothing but argue against me or slam the door in my face, and instead it was the exact opposite. She was really better than me once again. Just like Chloe told me a few weeks ago. God, I feel so stupid that I haven't given her any more credit in all these years. Maybe I've always seen her more as a rival than a friend, as someone who could take my place at any moment with an almost disarming ease, and what's worse is the belief that one has in these situations, that something like that can happen. And I've built walls around me, and even around Chloe as much as possible, I've been selfish and a bad friend, but my overprotective side, when it comes to her, always takes over. I just want her to understand once and for all, that I really feel guilty for everything I've done, for lying to her and betraying her trust. There is no worse. The only and perhaps even last thing, I can do now for her, is to rub reality in her face, and make her understand that she is wasting the opportunity to live her life with her one true love. It may be that we will argue again, and that I will be kicked out of her house only after 2 seconds, but trying does not hurt. I have nothing to lose. Not anymore. Fortunately, the streets at this time of the afternoon are not very crowded, and the two lovebirds do not even live a few blocks from each other. It's something incredible the case. Some people don't believe it, but I think sometimes the forces of the universe focus so much on something that eventually happens, like a coincidence. And the fact that Chloe unknowingly found home next to the DJ's is clearly a sign.
After about 20 minutes I reach the house that hosted me for a long time when Chicago was not there, and luckily I notice how there is parked Chloe's car in the driveway. It means she's there and I didn't drive away in vain. I pull my car over to the sidewalk opposite their house and head quickly towards the porch. As I get closer I hear more and more distinct voices and especially tones that do not seem to be very peaceful. What the hell is going on?
What the fuck does that mean? Why didn't you ever tell me anything?
CK I.. Please let me explain...
I lean a little close to the door and bring my ear closer so I can understand what's going on. I don't want to get involved but Chloe seems to be crying and Chicago doesn't seem to calm down at all, quite the opposite.
Chloe, I asked you to marry me, for fuck's sake! And you're hiding something like that from me?
Chicago I-
Silence. No. There was a noise and I would have liked not to hear it. I rapidly look for the keys in my bag that Chloe had given me when I came to stay with her here. The idea was to give them back to her today, but at this point I use them directly to go in. I don't like the situation at all. I insert the key into the lock and quickly open the door. What's in front of me is not what I ever wanted to see. He still has his hand in mid-air and she has her hand on her face. I can see that on CK's face the feeling of guilt is making its way, but he should not have even allowed himself to do such a thing.
They seem not to have noticed my presence until I step forward and both turn their eyes to me and hear the noises of my footsteps.
Maybe you should go for a walk, don't you think?
I tell him lapidary staring at him, not leaking any emotion. He could do anything, but he couldn't even imagine to hit Chloe. I could burn him in place if I spit fire.
I... Chloe, I'm sor-
Weren't you going?
I stand between him and Chloe, putting myself in front of her as a shield, with my arms folded. She doesn't say a word, she just has a red cheek and shiny eyes. How could she after all? I never thought I would experience it, but it seems to be exactly the same situation as it was more than 2 years ago, with Beca. Only in that case it was Chloe who slapped her, and no one was there to defend the brunette. It was really so unfair. I can't imagine how she felt.
I'll... I'll call you later.
With this Chicago moves away and retrieving his bag, leaves home with only an almost religious silence, which I am also a little afraid to break. I don't know if she's relieved of my presence or not. Her face only seems to reflect sadness, almost bewilderment. What the hell happened?
Chloe?
She lifts her eyes immediately, it almost seems that now she has noticed me. Her face is streaked with a few tears that I think and imagine are only the first of a long series, and as if it were an automatic action, she reaches out to me to be embraced. Just like two years ago, like all the time I spent comforting her. If there's one thing I promised myself was not to let anyone hurt Chloe anymore. That I should see her again in this state. And instead I failed in that too.
Hey hey, tell me. What is the problem?
I tell her by squeezing her hard and stroking her shoulder slowly to calm her down. If she is in this state it means that something serious has happened, and maybe I also suspect what it's going on. Damn it.
Bree... I... It happened... a mess. Beca... I-
She answers me briefly because she's shaken by the hiccups of crying, but it's enough for me to understand that Chicago has discovered something about them. I never supported her hiding something as important as her past relationship with Beca, but it was her choice, and I couldn't push her too much.
Breathe, Chlo. Calm down. What happened with Beca? And why was Chicago so angry?
The messages... The ones she sent me... He read them and... and... My God, I ruined everything!
Messages? Since when have they been texting? Or do they keep in touch? And above all, what were they about in order to make the situation so much worse between the two?
Chloe, talk to me. Only in this way can we find a solution together. Come on, sweetheart. Stop crying!
We approach the couch to sit next to each other, she with her hands on her legs and her head down facing me, while I remain silent respecting her time and waiting for her to calm down. I don't want her to feel obliged to tell me something she doesn't want, or to feel oppressed by me. Not anymore. I want to be more helpful and open to her.
I.. You know I never mentioned Chicago about me and... Beca, and I was going to do it, to explain everything to him before the wedding, so we wouldn't have any secrets, but...
Did he read these messages?
Yes... Well, when the platinum party took place, I arrived late because I stayed at work until 11pm...a horrible day. And.. Well, when I got there, she was in the basement alone and uhm-...
I notice how she is clearing her throat, probably out of shame for what she is about to tell me. Although I've actually already imagined what happened in that pub, but maybe letting her say it out loud may make her realize something she's too afraid to admit.
Here we go... There was something... Between us, but as you can deduce, there was no good ending...at all.
What do you mean?
We didn't have the best ending of the night. I... I think I really hurt her and... Then she got drunk, I imagine until she didn't even remember who she was anymore, and she sent me messages... That I'm an idiot I haven't even deleted.
The silence in the house falls again, I don't know if she will continue to explain the situation to me or that's all there is to know. The thing that I can perceive, however, is the sense of guilt that leaks from her face. And what's important is that I don't think it's for Chicago.
Um... Although there are a few points that are not very clear in all of this. Chloe...did you want there to be a different outcome for that evening?
What? No! I mean, yes, well, I would have preferred that we had left each other in a more 'friendly' way if you could say so, but... I couldn't expect any more from her.
She's looking down on her legs and she can't face me. She can't keep doing this, she's been lying to herself for too long, and unfortunately I helped her as well. That's enough.
Chlo, look at me. Why couldn't you expect anything else?
Because...I.. I broke her heart... Again.
She answers me with a low and trembling voice. Until a few moments ago she had calmed down, now it's as if the patch she had put on to stop the spillage of water from a dam, had broken and everything is inevitably flowing fast. As well as all her anxiety and worries right now.
Chloe... I do not know what happened, but I do know for sure what is between you two. And you know it too. You just have to be brave and say it to yourself.
I... I can't Bree, I can't. I have to solve the situation with Chicago and...and in two weeks we get married, we have to finish the preparations.
She gets up from the sofa to start walking without a real need, except to dig a hole in the floor. She is running away, not literally, but she is. And I can't let her doing it again.
Chlo stop! Enough. Do you realize that you're just hurting yourself in this way? One second you are desperate for Beca and for what you did to her, and you are too afraid to admit what you really feel, and the second after you raise the very high walls around you, and return to play the part of the future bride, too busy, to think even for a moment about what goes through her head.
It's like I blew up. I couldn't hold myself back anymore. She is destroying herself, and in the end she won't be able to recognize herself in the mirror if she continues to live a life that is not her own. She seems dismayed. Actually, I rarely have such exploits, but I only reserve them in extremely necessary cases. And this is of vital importance, I dare say. Her eyes are wide, glossy, and her mouth is half-open. She certainly didn't expect me to tell her this kind of thing, since my line of thought has always been totally different. I supported her when it came to leaving everything behind, leaving Beca behind, and just seeing the beautiful future with Chicago, but I didn't realize that she was getting further and further away from her authenticity in order to live a planned life. Beautiful, but not fully heartfelt.
Aubrey.. I...
Chloe, please think carefully about what you're doing. I... I'm sorry for hurting you and not being a good friend to you all this time, even though I was doing my best to put the pieces back together with you.
Bree really, there's no need-
I raise my hand to stop her, now she has to listen to me. And I hope that my words will have any effect on her, preferably the desired one. I just want her to see things differently, and to really see how this situation can no longer go on. There are two possibilities: cutting or stitching.
Let me finish... I.. I realized the enormous mistake I made, well, the many mistakes, but I'm here because I want to make up for it and try to be a better person, a better friend.
I take a deep breath and intertwine the fingers of my hands, extending my arms downwards and lowering my eyes for a moment. The most difficult thing for someone like me is to admit that you're wrong, and put aside your pride, even for a moment. But Chloe deserves this and more.
All this to tell you that... I know for a fact that you've changed, that the life you've been looking forward to alongside Chicago is perfect, and that you almost seem to be waiting for nothing more than to start a family with him. Surely it's a good project, which can work, but I don't think it's the right one for you.
What does that mean? Shouldn't I start thinking about wanting a family?
Of course you do, but that's not the point. I meant that... Chicago, he's not the one for you.
I notice how she locks her jaw and keeps her gaze fixed on me, as if I had said something she would never want to hear. She was convinced that he was the right one, that they would spend their whole lives together, but it doesn't take long to break convictions when they aren't based on something true, and that's the result. Her serious and striking glimpses give the impression that there is still something to defend, when actually it is already all crumbled.
Chloe, I know you're afraid, but the only thing that makes this life a little less horrible is to do what the heart tells us. And we both know that Chicago is not the one to whom your heart belongs.
I.. I thought I could forget her and move on. I had almost succeeded...
It's in the almost that lies the difference.
I guess.
I turned around for a moment to pick up the bag left on the coffee table, I didn't imagine having to spend all this time with her and I'm late for my flight. Fortunately, the luggage is already in the car.
I... Um... In a few hours I have a flight to New York, I go home.
What? Why? Are you kidding?
I hear the surprise mixed with worry in Chloe's voice. Coming here I didn't imagine she would be interested in my departure, but maybe I was wrong, maybe she's not completely angry with me.
Well, no. I'm going back there for a while, they contacted me for work and I accepted.
How long will you be gone? Why didn't you tell me?
I get a little closer to her, giving her a one-handed arm grip. We've always been next to each other, for years, it's going to be hard to get away.
Well, Chloe... We haven't talked for weeks and I thought you didn't want to have anything to do with me anymore, so...
Oh, no Bree, what the heck are you talking about? That's absolutely not true, I was just angry with you... I just needed time to, you know, process it.
She responds by raising her shoulder slightly and smiling gently as usual. This is the authentic Chloe, the real Chloe, the one who smiles with her eyes. I hope she chooses her.
I have to go now. Promise me one thing though. Please, please, follow your heart, and be brave.
I'll try Bree, I promise.
We hug each other strongly, as if to be able to erase all the discussions, disappointments and bitterness that have been between us in this last period. As if we wanted to restore what was before. That was my intention in coming here. And fortunately, at least in this I succeeded.
Do you love her?
Yes, I do.
I notice how she waited a few moments to answer, perhaps because she wanted to take some time before admitting out loud what she has been suppressing all this time. Finally.
You know, it may seem weird to you, but it's the same thing she said to me. See you, dearie!
I wink at her and leave, leaving her in her thoughts with an old, but always deep-rooted awareness: her love for Beca.
Pov Chloe
It's been at least two hours since I've been sitting on the couch staring at my cell phone on the table in front of me. Chicago has not come home yet, and I sincerely wish he would not show up for a while, although this situation needs to be resolved. I feel as if I have taken a weight off my chest, as if the flame I tried to smother with ashes had suddenly caught fire in me.
I love her, God, I've always loved her. I was just looking for an excuse to escape from this feeling so huge that it was scary. Especially after everything that has happened between us. But I can't run to her now, even though I would like to. I first have to solve all the mess I made with Chicago, and then try to get close to her. That is, if she still wants me. I'm not sure if she wants to see my face, or hear my voice, not after the party of almost a month ago. I don't know if I would have ever had the courage to admit to myself the love I still feel for her, had it not been for Aubrey. Surely if she hadn't intervened I would be looking for something to justify Beca's messages to Chicago at this time, or probably now I would be having make-up sex with him. I'm a coward. I don't think she deserves such a person. My God, she risked everything when we lived together in New York to protect me, and I paid her back by just kicking her ass. I know the story may seem absurd, but I believe her, I want to believe her. And I want her to know. I can't imagine how much time she spent blaming herself for our breakup, and how much pain she inflicted because of me. And I thought she was the perpetrator. I've been unfair. I only saw what I wanted, perhaps because at that moment, acting in this way, I managed to get the attention that I missed again from her at that time. But that's definitely not the way to get attention from your own girlfriend. Not by slamming the door in her face, or by slapping her.
I was wrong.
And what makes me even more angry is to think that only after 2 years I have come to this conclusion. Only after being involved in the Sabrina case. If it hadn't been for this, I'd probably still be irreparably convinced of my ideas now, I'd be convinced that Beca cheated on me, and that leaving her, albeit with all the pain that came with it, was the best thing that ever happened to me. And I would still be convinced that what I felt, deep down, under my skin, every time I thought even for a moment about her, was just pain, sadness and resentment. Surely everything has not disappeared by magic, it is a wound, which has been made, and in these two years has had the opportunity to grow more and more, ignoring it.
But now, it's different.
It is still there, but admitting to be in love with her and giving a bit of credit to her words has made the wound less bleeding. I've been suffocating her memory for too long, and perhaps I should have foreseen that sooner or later everything would come back to the surface. You can't stop loving a person, not if that person has stolen your heart and you haven't even had the strength to take it back. I have fooled myself that I have done it in these 2 years, but the truth is that what I was building was just a wall, around an empty space, to protect what was left of her.
Because when you lose someone, you do everything you can to keep as much as possible this person has left leaving, and I had only that to keep, the void.
I'm not saying that these 2 years with Chicago were totally negative or that I pretended to love him. No. I was fine, he helped me a lot not to think, to focus on the present, and although with him I faced the worst that comes after a breakup, I never managed to move forward. Not entirely. It's like when something gets stuck on you, like a piece of paper a little wet under your shoe.
That no matter how hard you try to get it out, you can't. So ask someone for help. And that someone was Chicago to me, he only removed the sides that protrude from the sole, but what was not visible remained, and sealed well.
You believe that by not seeing someone for so long, you automatically forget them, or you don't think about them so often. There have been days when it happened, when I've been so busy that I didn't give a single second to her, and to what she had been for me. And I feel so guilty now, I should have called her, talked to her, I should have been there. I wanted to be there for her. When she signed her contract here in LA, her first night as a DJ, the release of the song became a platinum. When she didn't feel enough. In which she felt broken by the too much weight of expectations.
I've missed so many things, too much. And all because I was blind and deaf. I pushed her to go away, because at that moment the pain I felt was so strong that having her close to me would have driven me crazy, more than I already was. I remember every single moment, every sleepless night spent in the bed turned towards the part that was hers, every lunch or dinner spent staring at the empty chair of that tiny table, that no one and especially not me, tried to occupy in some way. It was terrible. But I don't know how awful it was for her here. And I would love to know it, to catch up on every little detail of her, which I have lost over time. God, I was so stupid.
I bring a hand to my forehead so I can rest my head and close my eyes. What's waiting for me now? I don't know. It's all a mess. What should I say to Chicago? I think he deserves the truth after all, but I'm afraid of his reaction. I know that the slap he threw at me before, was just the result of the anger of the moment, but that doesn't justify the violence. And thinking about it, I feel even more like crap because I behaved exactly like him two years ago with Beca, and I didn't even apologize to her. How could she want to be with me? Wait, I don't even know if she wants to be with me. You can love and hate a person, and above all it is not said that if you love a person then it means that you necessarily want to spend the rest of your life together. Wooow. Chloe. Calm down. You're running a little too fast. You don't even know if she's going to look at you anymore. Are you already thinking about living with her? Two minutes ago you still wanted to get married to Chicago. I have to make it clear. I can't just jump headfirst and run to Beca's without having solved the mess in my head. She doesn't deserve it. And I probably don't deserve her. Stacie was right that night, I can't treat her as a second choice. I don't want her to feel like a second choice. An object. Because I'm sure that's what she felt when we kissed and then I treated her twice as if she was something to stay away from. Something dangerous. Dirty. To hide. When in actually it's not like that at all. And the one that should bury herself in the sand is me, and end up my days under there.
I hear the sound of the door lock clicking, slowly, almost as if those who are entering were afraid to put even a step inside the house. I already know it's him. I recognize him from the noise, from the way he opens the door and then closes it. After 2 years you get used to these things, so simple and daily. I would also like to be able to recognize Beca's pace and noises one day, because what I have in my memory dates back to more than 2 years ago, and I am sure that something has changed. Just as she has changed.
Chloe...
He approaches slowly, with his hands half raised as if he were approaching a ferocious beast. Perhaps he does not imagine how I could react to his presence, the times that we discussed never came to these terms.
Hey...
I stand still, look down for a moment on my legs and then go back to looking at him in front of me. I don't want to scream, argue, I just want to talk.
Look, I'm sorry about earlier. I absolutely shouldn't have hurt you. I... I was angry. I'm sorry.
I know CK... Forget it. We need to talk.
I'm making a hand signal on the couch to invite him to sit next to me. He seems to have calmed down, so he shouldn't have a reaction like before. If things get worse, I won't wait a moment to go away. He sits next to me with his arms resting on his legs apart and his hands intertwined. His head is low, I don't know what he expects to happen from here in a few minutes, but from the way he behaves, imagine it's not good.
How come you never told me about this?
I.. I really wanted to do that. But there was always something stopping me, I was afraid of ruining everything. To be seen with different eyes from you...
Come on, Chloe. If you say things like that, you'll never get to the point. It's called -beating about the bush- what you're doing. I only deceive him that way. He needs the truth. Come on.
Yes, Chloe, but it was important for me to know. I'm marrying you... I, I now feel like I don't know you at all. So it was the disastrous relationship you were recovering from 2 years ago with her?
Yes.. It's her. I.. Ck... Those messages you read... It's because something happened between us and it didn't end well...
I cross his gaze that every moment that passes seems to become more and more confused and uncertain. His forehead is frowned upon, but not in an irritated, almost curious, naive way. As if he wasn't really understanding what I'm trying to tell him. I feel like a horrible person.
You... Um... what do you mean? I don't understand, the messages were pretty confusing, but they looked like those of a drunk person with a broken heart-...
His voice is slowly slipping into a silence oblivion, perhaps because he is finally realizing what is happening. Or that it has happened. And my fixed gaze on his shoes certainly does not help in any way to deny the situation. Not that I wanted to. But sometimes I just wish I could be braver and not be afraid to hurt others.
You... She... Um... What, what was there, Chloe? don't... Tell me the truth, please.
Ck I... I don't know how to tell you, we... That night at the party...
Did you sleep together?
I almost choke on my own spit, because I didn't expect such a direct question. Or rather, I should have imagined that it would come, but it is definitely not our case. But I can't control the blush that I feel on my cheeks as I remember us, in bed, rolling between our sheets as if it were the only possible place to live. Each one in the arms of the other. The warmth and smell of her body. I wish I could remember them perfectly. Damn.
What? No. Absolutely not!
Good ... So you kissed?
Good thing? Why did he say "good"? I don't understand. Does he really think it was just something of the moment? He seems almost certain that it was irrelevant. It's probably what he kept repeating while he wasn't at home.
CK... Yes, we kissed, but that's not what matters. Or rather it is, but that's not all.
Oh... So do you? Um... I... You know, I thought that my reaction before had been exaggerated because, well, those messages are clear but I said to myself: "she loves me, she's getting married with me, that's what counts. We'll face it together". But... It's not like that, is it?
Involuntarily I find myself playing with the ring I've been wearing all these months on my finger, and I'm thinking of how much I don't deserve it. Because in front of me I have a man who really loves me, and to whom I care about a lot, but who I risked misleading for the rest of my life. Or for the time we would have spent together anyway. I would have liked to have noticed it sooner. Admit it first.
I don't answer. Perhaps my behavior is already a more than eloquent answer to his question. What a strenuous situation. My God.
Chloe... Look at me. Do you love her?
I lift my eyes from the ring and cross his, which almost seems to fight to hold back the tears and not seem weak, even more so than he already does. I can't imagine how hard it is for him to deal with all this. I feel my heart in my throat, as if it wanted to explode at any moment. But I have to do it, he deserves to have someone next to him who loves him more than I do.
I.. I think this is yours. I'm sorry CK...
I take off the ring and place it on the table in front of us, noticing how carefully he follows my movements, incredulous of what's happening to him. I'm a horrible person. And I'm sure there's a circle just for those like me in Hell. I have never experienced such great contempt for myself. How bad it is to have to go through the executioner of the situation.
At home there is a dull, heavy silence, marked only by the ticking of Chicago's clock. He doesn't speak, I can feel how much he is suffering right now. After spending time with someone next to you, you can also understand their state of mind just by looking at them. And in this situation it can only be equal to a rug trampled on. I am so sorry. I could cry at any moment.
I.. Maybe I should go.
I get up from the couch so I can go to the bedroom and pick up my bag with a jacket and go away. I don't want my presence to make him feel worse than he already is.
No wait... Don't go.
He answers me in a low voice, weak, I don't even know how I could hear him. I instantly stop and turn to him who still has his eyes fixed on the engagement ring. I feel so sorry for him.
You..um..You can stay. This is your home too. Go to the bedroom, I'll be in the guest room tonight.
Chicago I don't know if-
He stands up quickly and comes towards me, taking my hands in his. He's a broken man. He still loves me. What have I done to deserve him, and what has he done not to deserve a better person than me?
I mean it. Please. Stay. It's your home, it always will be.
Okay...
I answer whispering as we look at each other for a moment that seems never to end, then we hug so tight and let the tears flow by themselves without anything that stops them any longer. We're letting ourselves go, he's letting me go. And I couldn't be more grateful for that.
Thank you, Ck.
