As I walked to my car I noticed the skies had turned gray which, under the circumstances, suited the occasion. I got into my car, turned off the radio, and took off toward my apartment. Amazingly enough, not a thought came into my head. I managed to block out all images from the day and drove home on autopilot. Rain started to fall in tiny, harmless drops that didn't even skew my visibility enough for me to turn on the windshield wipers. I hated that. I hated when it rained just enough to leave droplets that you notice even though you shouldn't, but not enough to turn on the windshield wipers.
I arrived at my apartment and took a deep breath. What to do now? I suddenly felt like packing. I was supposed to leave for Stamford in a month, but why not get a head start? Maybe I could go ahead and move early since I wouldn't be in Australia. I searched the house, finally finding a plastic bin with a cracked lid to begin my packing. I made a mental note to buy actual packing boxes in the morning.
I went around my room, picking up random pieces of my past, wrapping some in newspaper and throwing some in the trash can. I never realized how much I held on to things. My eyes grazed over my yearbook and finally I couldn't hold back the tidal wave of emotion that I had held at bay for so long. I picked it up, remembering how Pam had poured over it the night of my party. I threw the yearbook into the bin, angry at my weakness. That's when the doorbell rang.
She was soaking wet and absolutely stunning. Her hair was plastered to her forehead and her wedding dress was beyond repair. As Pam stood in my doorway looking at me with that look she gave me from the reception area sometimes. I took a step back, almost scared that she was here to apologize for hurting me. I couldn't take another apology, another "I'm sorry but I can't." She stepped inside and we just continued to stare at each other until I was unable to stand it.
"So, did you swim here?"
Her laughter was so loud it almost sounded out of place.
"I'm sorry that I let you go."
I blinked, trying to make sure I hadn't made up her reply in my head. She gathered up the extra material of her dress and walked towards the couch. I noticed she was barefoot and I couldn't help but grin. I followed her and we sat, not on the couch, but on the floor in front of it. She spread her dress out around her on the floor.
"I'm not sure that drying it is going to help," I said not knowing what else to say.
"So," she said, definitely trying to buy more time. I just sat, figuring that I had said all I needed to say. Just watching her fight for words made my stomach knot. She was even more beautiful when she bit her lip in frustration.
"I have tried and tried to convince myself that I was doing the right thing. I had made a commitment and I felt that Roy had done nothing to deserve my betrayal. That's when you came along."
A tear fell down her face and my hand twitched to wipe it away. I decided physical contact was a terrible idea.
Her voice was barely a whisper now. "You're my best friend. That night you kissed me and I kissed you back, but I was scared. You have to understand why. I have to make you understand."
I swallowed, trying not to break down.
"Do you remember that day that my mom came and you came to my desk, got a jellybean, and left? Why did you do that? Why didn't you meet her? You are the one she most wanted to meet."
Finally I had a reason to speak. "Roy was the one she needed to know, not me."
She looked down at her dress. It was beginning to wrinkle, and she smoothed it out with her shaking hands.
"Is there anyway…"
She paused, and my heart tottered on the edge of a cliff.
"I know that I said yes. I was prepared to sacrifice everything to keep up the perfect image I had created for Roy and I. Yet, I was relieved when he did what he did." She ran her fingers through her hair, and I realized how badly I wanted to do the same.
I cleared my throat and scooted closer to her. "Pam, you know that I'm in love with you. You know that everything we've been through and everything about you makes me love you more every day. But I can't be second. I've been second to him for three years and I can't live with that." My tears finally fell like the rain trickling immediately beyond my windows.
She struggled to stand without stepping on her dress. I stood quickly and helped her up. She refused to look me in the eye. I waited and waited, for an eternity it seemed, and when she didn't say anything I didn't know what more to do. I walked to my room, knowing that this was extremely awkward, but I couldn't watch her walk away again. It was time to finish packing.
I picked up my yearbook, hoping that my earlier impatience hadn't torn it. As I placed it back in my cheap packing bin, I felt a hand on my lower back. I turned and she was so close I could breathe in the scent of rain from her hair. She reached up and pulled my face toward her. Our lips softly met for a painfully brief moment, and she pulled back and whispered the sweetest four words I had ever heard.
"You were never second."
The kiss that I had always imagined, the deep, never-ending, moan inducing kiss was all I ever thought it would be and more.
