Ars Amatoria Romance Challenge

#41:"Let me tell you a story"

Jen didn't understand. It was just beyond her and the only reason she could think of was that he hadn't really loved her, ever.

She didn't know why it bothered her so much, she didn't have an answer to that question, but it did. She couldn't stop wondering why and she felt somewhat hurt that he hadn't asked her.

After thinking about it for days, she decided she wouldn't find any peace of mind unless she asked him directly and found out his reasons. So she put on some clothes and walked out of her apartment towards his, which was barely a couple of blocks away.

A few minutes later she was standing in front of his door. Filled with decision, she rang the doorbell and waited for him to come out, hoping he wouldn't just slam the door in her face. She rang twice and could hear his voice, so soft, saying, "I'm coming."

A few seconds later, the door opened and he looked at her for a second, before smiling, welcoming. "Jen," he said softly. "Is something wrong?"

"No," she smiled too, wondering what he was thinking that made him smile in the first place. "I just wanted to talk to you about something that's been eating at me," she admitted.

He moved from the door to let her in, and she walked into his apartment for the first time in a year. He had redecorated, changing the color of the walls, and some of the furniture. She smiled as she saw the couch where they had shared so many special moments was still there. Instinctively she moved towards it and sat down.

He stood in front of her for a moment, looking peaceful, and handsome, she had to admit that too. He was wearing a tank top and some pajama pants which she knew he had just put on, for he slept in his underwear.

"Can I get you anything?" he offered.

"Some water, please."

He disappeared in the kitchen for a couple of minutes and walked out with two glasses of water, one of which he handed to her. He sat down on the couch next to her, and looked at her in a way she found loving, the way he looked at her before they became a couple.

"You wanted to talk to me; I'm listening," he said softly.

She looked down, took a deep breath and then looked at him. He was so peaceful. He didn't look like he had been hurting or anything, he just looked calm. "You are not hurting," it was an accusation.

"I am," he answered calmly. "Is that what you wanted to know?"

She looked at him and said: "I want to know why you haven't asked me…" she trailed off, losing her nerve.

"Asked you what? To take me back? I couldn't, you would take me back not because you want me back, but because you feel sorry for me, so no, I won't ask for a second chance. I had mine and I wasted it." He was very calm while he said all this. Jen wished she knew his secret, because she had a knot in her throat and felt tears building up in the back of her eyes.

"I've been thinking for the past few days that you weren't hurting because you never loved me," she admitted.

He smiled understandingly. Taking her hand in his, he said: "I did love you." He looked at her eyes for a moment and rephrased: "I do love you."

"And yet you never demanded anything from me. Don't you want to know why I broke up with you?" she took her hand out of his grasp and putting it on his shoulder.

"I won't ask that because you don't know the answer," he smiled again.

"How did you—"

"I won't ask a question I couldn't answer myself," he said. "Have no right to ask you to answer me something I know you don't know."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Let me tell you a story," he began, taking her hand in his. "Years ago I had a girlfriend." When he saw her roll her eyes, he clarified, "It wasn't you." She smiled and he continued. "She was a great girlfriend, and I loved her very much. We were very happy together, we trusted each other, we were friends, it was a great relationship; we even began making plans to get more serious. And suddenly things began to cool down and three months later, I broke up with her."

"What?" Jen looked into his eyes, trying to see if he was lying.

"I fell in love with someone else, a beautiful girl, sweet, adorable, and with absolutely nothing more and nothing less than my girlfriend." He pointed at her. "That was you."

"Me?"

"Yes. I fell madly in love with you, and suddenly I woke up not loving my absolutely great girlfriend anymore. It happens, people fall out of love with other people, and in love with new people. It happened to me, and it happened to you." He caressed her cheek softly. "I love you very much, and I wish with all my heart you loved me back, but you don't, and I might not like it, but I get it," he assured her. "And I am hurting, very much, but it'll go away, I have to be convinced that it will go away."

She found herself looking into his eyes and seeing for a moment just how much he truly loved her, and a tear finally escaped her eye. "What happened?"

He dried her tear. "It doesn't matter." He kissed her forehead softly. "But what we had is gone, and it may or may not come back. You can sleep well tonight, knowing that I did love you and that I am hurting, and if it makes you feel better, I'll even ask: what does he have that I don't? Why do you love him now and not me? What did I do to drive you away?"

She looked at him with a few more tears in her eyes. He was still peaceful; she wanted him to cry, to beg, to do something. She answered his questions honestly. "I don't know."

"I knew that," he said, drying her tears. Finally, his eyes got tearful, and he even let one tear slide down his cheek for her.

She suddenly kissed him, and he kissed her back, briefly, before softly pushing her away. "No, we can't give it another try," he answered before she even asked. "Not yet, maybe later."

"What if I made a mistake?"

"If you had made a mistake, you would know."

"I think I do."

"You can't know yet, it's too soon."

"I think I'd better leave," she got to her feet and walked towards the door, Alex right behind her. She stopped at the door and turned to look at him. "I want you to know that I miss you and that I'm hurting too."

"I'll always be here for you, Jen. Before we were a couple, we were friends. To me, you'll always be the one who got away," he assured her as she opened the door.

"I wouldn't be so sure I got away," she said sadly and walked out, still looking at him.

"I shouldn't be either. Call me when you get home, I want to know you made it back all right."

"Will do."

She walked away and he closed the door. He walked towards the couch and sat there, drinking the water he had poured for himself and had never drunk. He took off his tank top and turned on the TV. A few minutes later, she called to say with a broken voice she had made it home just fine. He hung up, took off his pajama pants and got into bed, falling asleep after a while.

In her own apartment she put on her pajamas and got into bed, but unlike him, she couldn't fall asleep so easily.