Are you holding back something that you're dying to say?
The phone call ends and the only thing that sticks with him is the last sentence that was said. "You have to tell her, Harvey, or it might be too late."
Maybe the truth is that they have been denying it since day one. The attraction is there, of course. They know it and everyone else sees it. But it is more than just that, more than just a call of the body at the end of the night, more than just an itch and a release one can cross off in a short span of time.
It is a connection from deep within, one that lasts longer than a lifetime. An understanding not just of the mind, but also of the heart. A rare occurrence in this world of coincidences and planned circumstances.
Maybe the denial comes from fear that stems from the past. The fear of getting it only to be taken away in a blink of an eye. The fear of having a beautiful thing only to be ruined by the cruelty of the world, of the inevitable mistakes and unwise decisions. The fear of being the one to make it only to be the same person to break it.
Maybe not acknowledging it is the easier route to take. For not giving words and actions any meaning, brushing them off as something a friend would usually say or do. For things to be immediately swept under the rug, for feelings to be buried under the box or stored in a tightly-capped jar until they are forgotten.
But they're never forgotten. They're never kept out of their minds. And they never die down.
Instead, they hit you in the most unexpected times. They consume you, in the morning while you drink your coffee or at night when you're lying in bed waiting for sleep to come by. They grow with each day that passes by, for every time your eyes meet or when your fingers brush, for every glass of scotch shared or that shitty Thai you ordered.
It doesn't go. It stays with you.
Until the day comes that you have to face it. Until the time arrives that you have to do something about it. Because it has reached the seams and you're just about to burst.
For him, that moment is now.
His feet move on their own accord, walking past her dark office and straight to the elevators. He catches her dropping a file at the front desk, just about to turn and end the day. He starts to slow down, stopping when he's just a foot away from her. Suddenly, the nerves rush through him but he masks them by letting out a deep breath. He calls softly, "Hey."
She turns around to face him, a slightly shocked expression on her face that she quickly hides away as she replies, "Hey."
His arms move by his side, not knowing how to keep them at bay with all the adrenaline running in him. He doesn't really know what to say, how to approach the subject he wants to talk about. And so he opts for common ground, their go-to conversation starter — work. He starts talking again, "I just wanted you to know..."
She cuts him off. "Scottie called to thank me, Harvey." There's slight hesitation in voice. The topic of the other woman still seems to be a sour subject between them at times.
He wasn't expecting that reply, his hand waving by his side again before placing it in his pocket. Quite weird, if he's being honest, to know that she received the call but he did. "That's funny. She just called me," he says.
She lets out a breath as she looks around before meeting his eyes. "Well, I guess she's grateful to the both of us."
"I guess so." His reply is short and feels like the conversation has ended. And he thinks 'this is it,' the time has come, the moment for him to say what he's come to say.
This is unfamiliar territory, for him to be the one bringing things up and not her taking them out of him. She is usually three steps ahead in every single thing, but now it seems he's the one taking the lead. He can't help but wonder if it's true or she's just really waiting for him to say something, for him to take the first step out of the two of them. She did get the call first so maybe she has a clue on what this is all about. But then, he'll never really know unless he asks. So, that's what he does.
"Uhm," he begins but then pauses. He looks down and gently rubs the tip of nose, a gesture she's all too familiar with to know that he is in fact nervous. The way he tries to shift his weight while standing is a dead give away as well. He looks up again and stares directly at her eyes, "Did she say something to you about…"
"About what?" Her reply is quick yet sounds very inquisitive. They hold each other's gazes in the moment that follows, silence settling in between them as their eyes try to continue the conversation. They used to be so good in this game, to only have one look and already be on the same page. But now seems to be different once again because they both seem lost, not quite at pace with each other and finding it difficult to meet halfway.
Well, 'there's a first time for everything,' as the others would say.
But they are not given the chance to explore that first time, to clear things out and find the answers to the unsaid questions because the elevator dings and the moment is long gone. A man walks out and approaches her, hand gently reaching for her arm.
The words at the tip of his tongue are now swallowed back down. There's no way they're coming back up as long as there's a man in her life, a man she's obviously seeing, and a man that is clearly not him.
Introductions are made and he's nothing but polite. But none of the interaction registers in his mind, not even the fact that she says goodnight just before she leaves with someone else. Everything starts to blur and suddenly nothing makes sense anymore as he tries to hold back the feelings he was finally ready to show.
Special thanks to May and Jil for sending me never ending prompts. I'll never understand why I keep saying yes.
And to you, reader, if you made it this far (hahahaha), thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts. :)