From the moment she crawled into my bed, puzzle pieces slotted into place. Her body tucked into mine, lips against lips. I lived in a barefaced glee.
We shared months of the purest moments, impervious to the outside world, while a life grew inside her, steady and sure, making itself known in a soft swelling. Cheek against a belly button, I introduced myself, speaking in fairy tales and stories of days gone by. New ultrasound pictures showed arms, legs. Our tiny dot was becoming more.
We were playing hide and seek with the truth, behind closed doors, hiding at home in oversized sweaters.
Us. Three of us, a haphazard family living in the shadows.
But eventually, no matter how much we tried, someone was bound to find out.
I arrived home to slippered feet nestling behind a precarious pile of papers.
"Honey, I'm home," I sang, unloading a paper bag of fruit and vegetables.
The slippered feet approached, wearing my sweater, and stole an apple, peeling off the sticker. Joey's hip hit the counter, and she took a bite. I leaned forward, kissing her apple breath.
She sniffed at my hair and said, "You smell like manicotti."
I chuckled, impressed at her honed pregnancy senses, holding out a container. "Close - moussaka."
Joey rolled her eyes in pleasure, reaching for the silverware drawer and collecting a fork before her apple was even half finished.
"Did you have a good day?" I asked while nesting bananas in a bowl.
"It was okay," she shrugged, taking a mouthful of moussaka. "It's better now."
After depositing the paper bag in the recycling, I swooped behind her, my palms feeling the hard skin of her rounded belly beneath my shirt - a quick hello.
Joey sighed between chews. "Bessie called today," she said.
"And? Did you tell her?"
She replied with a shake of the head before walking to the fridge. Rifling through bills, ultrasound printouts, and appointment reminder notices, she located my parents' wedding anniversary invitation. Releasing the magnet she slapped it onto the counter.
"This weekend," she said.
"What about it?" I asked. Joey knew I wasn't going.
"What if we went?"
My brow creased. "You want to go to my parent's wedding anniversary party?"
"Not especially no, but I thought we could go, and I could talk to Bessie, in person, tell her, in person."
I felt a rush of anticipation and fear in equal measure.
"What about my parents?" I asked, pointing to her stomach.
Joey sighed. "I can still hide it underneath bigger clothes. We can cross that bridge when we get there. And hopefully, we get there a lot later than we get to Bessie."
I gripped the counter, pondering the realities of a group celebration with the Witters, and the realities of arriving with one Joey Potter.
"We could go anytime. Does it really need to coincide with celebrating the worst marriage in human history?"
"It doesn't, but it wouldn't hurt to see your family, Pace. I'd be there for moral support."
I knew that Joey was looking for an opportunity to speak to Jack. Since learning of our affair, he had severed all contact. She wanted to smooth things over before the next bout of shocking news we were due to deliver.
"Are you prepared for the questions? Not even about the baby, but about us?" I asked.
Joey shrugged. "I'll probably never be prepared for that, but I guess it has to happen sometime."
I dragged my hands down my face dramatically.
Joey continued. "How about I offer my support services to deal with your family, and you offer yours to deal with mine?"
It seemed like a bad idea, capital B. But she rubbed her face against my beard, serious brown eyes holding mine. No wasn't really an option, even if it was presented as one.
"Okay. Fine."
Joey smiled and said. "You and I, in Capeside together. It's going to be surreal."
"One step at a time."
Bessie awaited our arrival, sitting on the porch swing with a dogeared paperback in her lap. I slowed the car on the grass, put it into park, and undid my seatbelt. Tingles of excitement grew.
"I've changed my mind." Joey stared at her sister out the windshield, picking at the skin under her fingernails.
"About what?"
"Can we not tell Bessie right now?" she said.
I glanced at her in shock. The tingles turned to dread. "The window to not tell people is closing swiftly, Jo. You're four months pregnant, nearly five. Are you sure you don't want to get it over with? Just tell her. I'm here for support, remember? And it's Bessie. She loves you."
Joey shook her head vehemently, suddenly terrified at the thought.
"What if she notices?" I asked.
"I'll make sure she doesn't."
I didn't let my mind wander over the questions. If she couldn't tell her own sister, how could we progress to telling others?
I sighed, opening the car door to a waiting Bessie, trying to ignore the warning bells that alarmed in my head.
Bessie hugged her sister, and Joey used only her arms, not letting their midsections intersect. She asked about the drive and then wrapped her arms around me while Joey went into the house.
"Good to see you two out and about officially," said Bessie. "I'm not sure Capeside is ready for you, or ever will be, but I guess you've got to start somewhere."
"Nothing like dipping your toes in at a Witter family event," I said, a forced smile plastered on my face.
"Your bravery knows no bounds."
Bessie escorted us inside to mugs of hot coffee and a plate of fresh brownies. I could tell how pleased she was to have her sister with her, if only for a night.
Joey nestled herself inside the jacket she refused to remove, blowing on the coffee to cool it.
"How have things been?" Bessie asked.
"Good. Work has been busy. Pacey's new restaurant is doing fantastically."
Bessie nodded, "I read the review in the Globe, impressive."
"Thanks," I said, reaching for some brownies.
"You said you had something to tell me?" Bessie looked at Joey expectantly.
Joey just cast back a blank stare. "No, I don't think so."
I sipped the coffee to quell my unease.
"Are you sure?" Bessie asked, and I wondered if she was well aware of what was going on. Her slim sister, suddenly overcome with a fashion pivot to bulky, oversized clothes. It seemed so obvious, to me at least.
"Whatever it was, I've forgotten, so it mustn't have been important," said Joey.
Bessie let the subject tumble away with offers of more brownies and a side dish of Capeside gossip while I watched the woman I loved and feared for what awaited us.
The anniversary was at a local bar, complete with sticky tabletops, a jukebox blasting Journey's greatest hits, and a gaggle of drunks. My father was one of them.
Joey and I bought drinks from a surly bartender. A whiskey for me. A club soda for her. We stood by the bar, watching the party unfold. Her hand held mine, steadfast.
She was a breath of fresh air in this place, drawing in her lip for a nervous nibble. Joey didn't belong here.
"Well, well, well. Only Pacey would RSVP a no and then show up anyway." Gretchen appeared behind us, pinching my back on arrival.
I flinched at the pain. "Don't you know by now, everything is a no? It covers for when I come to my senses at the last minute and ditch."
"I was sure it was fame. A couple of magazine articles about your culinary prowess and you're too good for us." Gretchen took Joey in a hug. I waited for the inevitable shock when my sister noticed the growing stomach, but it never came.
She had hidden it well. Jeans paired with an oversize wool sweater, topped with a long scarf trailing down over her belly. If I looked really hard, I could see it. But I was looking, most people weren't.
"So, you've come together, you are holding hands. Can I assume that this means that you are now officially a couple?" Gretchen asked.
Joey nodded.
"Congratulations guys. I mean, we can all be adults here and ignore the dubious circumstances surrounding your get-together."
I groaned. "Way to politely skirt the matter, sister."
"I'm the least of your worries, little brother."
My eyes scanned the room, resting on Doug sitting in a booth, my cousin Aiden on one side, and Jack on the other. I looked away. Joey's eyes locked onto them.
Gretchen tracked our gaze. "Seriously though, I'm really happy that you are both happy. Someone from this goddamn town deserves it."
"Gee Gretch, you make Capeside seem like a hellscape," I said.
"I speak the truth," she smiled.
My mother made a bee-line for us.
Gretchen saw her, wished us godspeed, and disappeared into the crowd.
"Pacey! I thought you weren't coming!?" said Mom. She didn't offer a greeting hug.
"Well, I wasn't. I thought I'd have to work, but here I am. Happy Anniversary," I said.
Mom scoffed, "Happy? He's already so drunk I'm set to murder him. The only reason he agreed to this soiree was the prospect of a bar with a constant stream of ESPN and free-flowing beer. The true celebration today is that after forty years of marriage, I have not smothered his snoring face in his sleep."
Mom paused for a minute, registering Joey's presence.
"Joey Potter?"
"Hi," Joey managed an awkward wave. "Happy anniversary."
"Thank you, dear," Mom replied, an arm on Joey's shoulder. "I'm confused. Are you two dating now?" She looked between us.
"We are," I answered. "I have told you this before."
Mom's eyes crinkled in confusion. "Wasn't Joey married to Dawson?"
"She was," I replied, summoning the little patience I had. "They're separated."
Mom didn't know how to respond to this, so she sipped her Chardonnay and made snide comments about the shade of Aunt Beatrice's dress.
Dad moved across the room. I was sure he was staggering to the bar, but his direction changed mid-way and he made his way toward us.
"Brace yourself," I warned Joey in a whisper, downing the rest of my whiskey. Mom departed as swiftly as she came, their relationship unable to withstand a minute side by side.
"Pacey. I was told you weren't satisfied that this was an event worth celebrating."
It wasn't, but I plastered a smile and answered. "I thought I'd have to work."
Dad laughed. It smelled like Budweiser, breath fermented. He snapped back, "Still pedaling that bullshit when you own the business. Nice try."
"Gee, I can't imagine why I don't come running to these heartwarming affairs," I replied, glancing into my empty drink, wishing for a bottle.
Joey held a wary smile and tried to diffuse the situation. "It must be so nice to celebrate forty years. Congratulations."
Dad screwed up his face and shook his head. "Thanks."
He wasn't just a few beers on his La-Z-Boy drunk, he was mean drunk. The point when his eyes went from glassy to dead, where every word he said was an invitation to battle.
I put my glass on the bar and took Joey's hand. "Well, on this jovial note, I think we'll depart. Happy Anniversary and all of that, I'll see you at Christmas."
The EXIT sign looked so inviting. I didn't care that I hadn't spoken to Doug, Kerry, or any of my family members, really. I just wanted to leave, and that red and white sign was lighting the way.
Before we could move towards it, Dad said. "What is it, Pacey? Couldn't find yourself a girlfriend, so had to go steal somebody else's?"
My hand balled into a fist at my side. Joey's arm reached across, making reassuring contact with my back. My hand released.
John poked a gnarled finger into my bicep, and his face became a crinkled smile. I flinched at the touch, the muscle memory of punishments years ago.
"Relax, I'm just joking," he blew it all off in a few words. "Although I'm not surprised. You've been sniffing around after that one for years!"
Joey's fingers gripped my wrist, tugging me away from him.
"You have no idea what you're talking about," I spat.
I wanted to lodge my whiskey glass into his face. To push him to the ground, to yell at him, to ignore him, to have everyone in the room turn to see what an absolute drunken asshole he really was.
Dad held my gaze, steely. The beer made him sway. It wouldn't take much, just a shove, and he'd go down. But Joey was pulling me away, and I was following and that EXIT sign was above us, and then it was gone.
In the alley beside the bar, it was suddenly quiet. The air was chilled. Joey pulled me towards the car, opened the door, and sat me down in it. She climbed into the driver's seat.
"You deserve better than him," she said. "Than all of them."
I could tell she was mad too. There was an edge to her voice.
I laughed, sardonic. "I don't know why I expect it to be different. Every time I drive down, I think maybe, someday, it won't be like this and I'll leave not feeling this way."
"I think we need to avoid large family gatherings for a while."
"Agreed."
Joey's hands were on the wheel, but she didn't start the car. Her voice broke as she spoke. "I know it's too early to ask this, and that we're only at the beginning of this roller-coaster, but do you think there will come a day when we can just be normal? That we can be Joey and Pacey and be a couple, and people won't talk about what our lives were and about the past and they will just see us as ourselves, without history clouding it?"
"I honestly don't know," I answered, feeling the adrenaline waning, my body relaxing in the tight space beside her.
She lifted my hand, raised my knuckles to her lips, and held them there. "I hope that one day when people think of me, they don't think about Dawson's Joey anymore. That they just think of me as Joey, who happens to love Pacey."
"I hope so too."
Joey drove back to the B&B.
Bessie regarded us curiously as we walked through the door. "Back after such a short time. It must have been eventful?"
I nodded. "As it turns out, half an hour of Witter time is all I can handle these days."
Joey shot Bessie a look that told her not to pry further.
"Well, now that you're not partying into the late hours on a Saturday, what do you want to do?" Bessie asked, her keen senses honed on when a distraction was necessary.
I flopped onto the sofa. Joey went to the sideboard and collected a stack of games.
"Monopoly?" She pulled it from the pile and placed it on the kitchen table.
I groaned.
"Come on. Nothing like a little capitalism to let you forget about your family woes." Joey came over and took my hand, trying to pull me from the couch.
"Fine." I stood and walked over. "As long as I can be the thimble."
"Who the hell wants to be the thimble?" asked Joey.
I shrugged.
"Fine, I'm the top hat."
Bessie was the dog.
And we played monopoly until hotels lined the board and our yawns grew more frequent. Eventually, my thimble reined supreme.
Joey and I climbed into a bed at the B&B for the first time ever, her head resting in the crook of my arm.
The Capeside sign was not long behind us. We pulled up for gas. I pumped while Joey strolled the aisles, seeking sour candies to quell the cravings.
Winter was approaching, the days grew dark impatiently. I watched her from outside, collecting items in the fluorescent glow.
Inside, I followed the soft brown hair, visible above the aisles. Joey turned to me, arms full of multicolored snacks, not a natural color or flavor in sight.
"Nutritious dinner tonight, I see?" I said, regarding the pile.
"Don't judge a pregnant woman," she warned.
"I wouldn't dare."
We moved from sugary snacks to salty snacks, collecting a packet each and dumping the loot onto the counter. The attendant, an uninterested teen with a dozen facial piercings, scanned the items with sloth-like speed. I wrapped my arms around Joey from behind, cradling her belly in my palms while we waited. She leaned into me.
"That'll be $32.50," said the attendant, and I reached for my wallet.
A throat cleared behind us.
I ignored it at first, handing over my credit card. When I grabbed the plastic bag of items, the noise came again.
When I turned, Joey was already facing away, staring at someone.
Gail Leery.
Joey was face to face with Gail, hands wringing, all the while Gail's eyes were firmly on Joey's stomach, exposed in a tight-fitting shirt. I'd turned the heat too high in the car when we'd driven past Capeside High. She'd loosened her seatbelt and wriggled out of the cable-knit sweater that had served as her secret keeper for the better part of two days.
"Gail," I smiled nervously.
"Joey, please tell me that isn't what I think it is," Gail was shaking her head, staring at Joey's stomach.
The attendant was observing the exchange, suddenly interested.
Joey froze. "Gail, I can explain-"
"Is it Dawsons?" she interrupted, hope etched in her tone.
Joey shook her head.
Gail's face whipped up, glaring at me, daring me to speak.
"What the hell is this, Joey? I don't understand how you could do this. When Dawson told me what happened, he was devastated, and now this…" She was lost for words, speaking to a woman she once treated like her own child, regarding her as though she didn't know her at all.
Joey searched for an answer, panic rising.
"We never meant for this to happen, Gail, it was unintentional," I offered, grasping at ways to quantify, to explain away the circumstances of Joey and me. But all Gail could see was her daughter-in-law, pregnant with another man's baby, and even with days of explanations, it wouldn't be enough.
Gail lifted a pointed finger at me, vitriolic. "Don't you dare speak to me!"
The automatic doors beeped, parting, welcoming a man in a trucker cap to pay for fuel. He stepped around us.
"There is nothing I can say, Gail, that will make this better. That will fix what has happened," said Joey.
Gail shook with rage, her keys jingling in her grip.
" You are going to tell Dawson about this, Joey. You have to. After all, you two went through with IVF, you have to tell him. I can't tell him this. I can't tell him that I found you two, acting like a couple, with a baby on the way, on the outskirts of his hometown. I can't do it."
Joey looked panicked but agreed. "Of course I will tell him."
Gail shook her head.
"I love you, Joey. I have loved you since you were a child. I held your mother when your dad cheated on her, time and time again. You watched that unfold. You saw what it did to her. And then you did the exact same thing and kept doing it? I don't understand it at all. I don't understand you, Joey. Why him? "
Him. That word triggered a long-forgotten memory, and I shot back. "How is this different from what you did to Mitch? You cheated on him, right? Now you're here berating us for the exact thing you did yourself."
The air crackled with animosity. Gail took a step back.
"How dare you bring that up? This isn't a comparison. You have no idea what was happening in my relationship at the time."
Joey found her voice. "He may be your son but you have no idea what was happening in mine."
"Dawson is my child and I'm allowed to be mad as hell about this." Gail grappled with her thoughts, eyes unbelieving, and continued. "When Dawson told me you two slept together, I didn't dare tell him about Pacey's wedding or the moments I witnessed when you were teenagers. I knew there was something between you, but I never thought, in my worst nightmares, that you would act on them."
The man in the trucker cap was listening now, not masking his eavesdropping.
Joey shrunk herself towards the floor, trying to melt into it, to disappear.
I held out my hand and barked, "enough!"
The attendant looked disappointed.
"Is there anything Joey or I can say to fix this?" I asked Gail.
She didn't reply, her mouth in a stern line.
I continued. "No. There isn't. So we're going to leave. We ask that you keep this to yourself right now. We will tell Dawson. We will tell everyone."
Gail took a deep breath, swiped at her bangs, and shook her head. She was done with this conversation, and so were we.
"Come on, Jo," we waited for the automatic doors to part and walked back to the car.
I opened the door for Joey, threw the forgotten snacks onto the backseat, and slumped into the driver's seat.
Joey was pale. She reached for her sweater and pulled it over her head, letting it swallow her up, covering our child and our secrets, now exposed.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
Joey shook her head, muttering out a weak, "no."
I wanted to comfort her, to make her look at me, hold her hand, something, anything, to make it okay. But I could see Gail watching us through the gas station windows, and I knew we had to get away.
With the car in drive, I steered into a grocery store parking lot a few miles away.
We sat, sandwiched between cars and Joey asked, "Is this what it's going to be like?"
"No. It won't be like this with everyone."
Joey turned her head towards me. "That's a lie, Pacey. This is just the beginning. We're going to have to re-live this over and over with everyone we know. And I don't know if I have it in me."
"Joey-" I began.
"Just drive me home, Pace."
"It's because it's Gail, it won't always be this emotional response-"
"Pacey!" Joey interrupted. "I just want to go home."
She faced away from me, watching out the window. We had driven all this way to tell Bessie, who remained none the wiser. Instead, Gail Leery knew our secret, and it was devastating.
For the silent drive, I tried to think of something to do, something to say to soften this blow.
We knew it was coming, that eventually, everyone would know, but it felt like a drive-by. We were unarmed and unprepared.
I thought about Gail's venom. The way she said him, like poison on her tongue. I'd heard my name being spoken like that before.
It felt like yesterday.
It was not long after the summer I'd spent on True Love traversing the coast solo.
After Joey chose Dawson, I'd licked my wounds, returning to find Capeside exactly as I'd left it, despite the re-coupling of Joey and Dawson. I'd made peace with the decision, or tried to. Joey had made her choice. It was time for me to move on. So I made a concerted effort to restore our friendship and settle back into the Capeside tried-and-true existence.
The usual assortment of angst-ridden teens littered Dawson's bedroom that day, debating if we should go to the cinemas, or stay at Dawson's house and be subjected to an afternoon of DVDs of his choosing.
"Think of the money we'll save," said Dawson, making his case for in-house movies.
"Whatever." Joey lost interest in this battle fast. "Can we please do something? Our Sunday is evaporating at warp speed. Soon it will be Monday morning contemporary literature and I'd like to sit in class and at least pretend I did something of note on the weekend other than scrubbing toilets and changing sheets at the B&B."
Dawson put his hands together and pleaded with the group. "It will be awesome. I promise. I'll even let you choose one of the movies."
"Boo!" Jen threw a pillow at him. "That is a bald-faced lie, Dawson Leery. You always say we can choose and then overrule based on the need to show us some terrible noir film that perfectly encapsulates the auteur theory."
Dawson considered his options for a moment. "What if I go to the grocery store and get us all snacks? It'll be like a cinema in my bedroom, at bargain basement prices."
"Decent snacks," I said, "I'm talking Snickers, Twix, skittles."
"Of course," said Dawson.
Everyone murmured in begrudged agreement.
Dawson left, taking Jack and Jen as self-proclaimed 'snack consultants' for the journey.
Joey and I stayed behind, tasked with the DVD setup. It took all of two minutes and we lazed side by side on the floor of Dawson's bedroom. It was the first time we'd been alone since my departure. I was both dreading and wishing for this moment for weeks in equal measure.
"Can I make a confession?" Joey spoke to the ceiling and my body froze at her words.
"Sure."
"I don't really even like movies anymore. So I couldn't care less if we went out in public to watch, or stayed here."
I laughed, expelling the nervous tension.
"You realize what you just said, right? And in whose room you just said it. It's sacrilege! Dawson just got an icy shiver down his spine, and he doesn't know why."
Joey covered her eyes and laughed. "I'm going to blame it on overexposure."
"Fair call. Too much of anything can't be a good thing."
"A bit like you, now that you're back," she grinned.
"Ha-ha," I said, happy that she was back to antagonistic Pacey teasing.
"Do you know how many movies I watched this summer? I lost count."
"Well, I'm boring. I watched none."
She sighed. "That sounds like bliss."
"Well, you could have come." I threw the comment out like a discarded napkin, with no thought.
Joey blinked, turned over, and nudged me playfully. "I'm sure you were too busy on beaches with babes all summer for movies."
I played along. "Oh yeah, babes, as far as the eye could see."
"Lucky you."
"Are you jealous, Joey Potter?"
She scoffed, "unlikely."
I rested on my elbow, looking over at her. She reached for the empty DVD case and began opening and closing the case, the plastic spine cracking.
"Did you find any babes, you know, for yourself?" She asked, not looking at me.
"No babes." I shook my head.
Joey nodded. She was jealous.
I delved into my pocket, feeling for the item that I'd kept in there for the last few weeks. Dawson perpetually attached to her side, I didn't feel comfortable bestowing gifts in front of him. Grabbing at the shell's rugged surface I pulled it out.
"I found something on my trip for you."
I handed it to Joey. Her fingers brushed mine. "It's stupid, really, but I'd just anchored and made my way in for supplies, not far from Hatteras Island. I spotted it in the sand, and I thought of you."
Joey felt it beneath her fingertips, turning it over, inspecting the tortoiseshell pattern that covered the entire surface. It was only two inches long with a conical shape. Striped ridges of white, beige, and brown ran from one end to the other. In the light, it glistened almost translucent at the fine edges.
"It's beautiful."
I bit my lip. "It's a lightning whelk. The shell coils counterclockwise. It's one of the few species in the entire world to do so."
She felt the knobs that jutted out and peered inside.
I kept talking, "You would have loved the beach there. Miles of sand and not a soul on it. Where I anchored turtles surrounded True Love, dancing in the seagrass."
Joey didn't speak, just turning the shell over above her face, her hair fanning out on the floor.
"I missed you, Pace." She said finally, keeping her eyes on the shell. I kept my eyes on her.
I took a breath. "I missed you too."
As I lay mesmerized by the shades of caramel in her hair, I didn't notice the figure in the doorway, observing us in silence.
Joey spotted Gail in the periphery before I did.
She sat up, burying the shell in her jean jacket like an illicit substance.
"Joey, can I have a word?" Gail's tone was light, but I felt its underlying edge.
"Sure," Joey followed Gail out the door before I had a chance to sit up.
I moved onto Dawson's bed, fumbling with the DVD case while listening to Gail's hushed voice on the stairs. "You need to be careful with him. What would Dawson think if he walked in to see you like that?"
Their voices descended until I couldn't hear anymore, no matter how hard I strained.
We had ended things before they began. I left, sailing miles away to give them the space to breathe, and still, I was a him, an other, a badness that Joey didn't deserve. Since childhood I had been a regular in the Leery house, and Gail didn't have the decency to use my name.
I climbed out the window, walking home while everyone ate their snacks and watched Dawson's terrible DVDs.
Years later, I'd forgotten all about the shell, about Gail's words. I'd buried the memory of it, along with my feelings for Joey Potter. Everything was hidden under the bravado of a new life, a new restaurant, a new start. I thought I could go right back to my old high school friends and forget that tangled history.
Dawson invited me to have dinner in their home, to stay while I found an apartment. I drifted back into the group that night and we laughed over brimming wine glasses and plates full of food. Joey sat across from me, more beautiful than the last time I'd seen her, if that was even possible.
She was nervous in my presence, her eyes only daring to meet mine in snatched intervals.
Everyone left. Joey showed me the spare room, handed me fresh towels. My heart hammered just the same in her presence. Five years without her couldn't settle it.
The words escape from my lips. "I'm sorry I didn't call. I'm sorry I missed your wedding. I'm sorry I've been MIA. Things just got…" I stopped, swallowing. "I needed to get myself in order, my life, my marriage. Not that much of anything could have saved that."
"It's fine," she shook her head, touching her neck.
"No, it's not. I was a shitty friend. I'm sorry." I meant every word of it. I had taken the easy way out.
"Bygones," she said with a wave of her hand and left the room, my heart leaving with her.
I walked to their bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror until my reflection blurred into nothingness. Why was I really back here after so long? I knew the answer, but let it evade my consciousness.
Two toothbrushes rested side by side, two towels. The compact white bathroom told the tale of the fated couple I'd heard about since my memories began. A perfect space for them, for their perfect life.
Dawson and Joey. Joey and Dawson. Their names were always uttered as one.
I washed my face, running my fingers across the wet stubble, and then saw it. Blinking rapidly I leaned closer.
In a small decorative bowl beside the bathtub, a few items rested. A gold necklace, a bracelet, and - a lightning whelk shell. I picked it up, remembering in pure clarity the way it looked between her fingers well over a decade ago. It still had the same luster, the same zig-zagged tortoiseshell pattern.
Why was it there, sitting amongst their life? Watching them brush their teeth, shower, watching a gentle caress shared in the mirror's reflection.
I put it back gently and went to bed that night, where Dawson and Joey slept side by side on the other side of the drywall.
When I closed my eyes I dreamed of Hatteras beach.
We pulled up to Joey's apartment. I carried the bags up the stairs behind her, sure that she was going to tell me to go home, back to my apartment, alone.
But she said, "Can you please stay tonight?"
Relief flooded through me. "Of course."
Joey showered. I sat in the dark kitchen and drank a beer.
When she was tucked into bed, I went into the bathroom, washed my face and collected my toothbrush, which now sat beside Joey's.
I looked at the ceramic bowl. Inside it still laid her mother's bracelet, a gold necklace. Her engagement ring from Dawson now sat in the pile, and beside it rested the shell.
I walked down the hall, climbed into the bed. Joey molded into my arms. I wrapped my hands across her warm stomach and closed my eyes.
"I love you, Pace," she whispered into the night.
I kissed her hair. "I love you too."
I was still him . I would always be him. But at least for now, I had her.
