Why the hell am I stopping this again?
“This isn’t what you want,” I remind her. “And I won’t be like those other guys who just do things to get you in bed.”
My words break the spell because she pulls back and pushes her hands through her hair.
“You’re right.”
I climb off the sofa and turn to face the other direction so she can put her shirt back on. There’s a picture on the wall of a meadow with flowers in it. It looks way too generic to be something Anya would pick out. There must be a story behind it. Staring at the unfamiliar landscape only drives home how rare it was for us to spend time at her apartment.
Considering that her place is in the city, it actually would have been convenient to spend some of our weekdays here to save us the drive out to the suburbs. Why didn’t we ever do that? We always spent time at my house. Everything was on my turf. Everything was for my comfort. It never occurred to me how selfish that was which makes me feel e
ven worse.
How did I spend two years with Anya and never ask what she preferred?
“Was I a bad boyfriend?”
“You weren’t my boyfriend.”
“Anya, I’m being serious.”
When I turn around, she is sitting on the couch staring out the window. She doesn’t look at me but her foot tapping against the carpet gives away her agitation.
“No. I never would have loved you if you were.”
“Past tense?”
Immediately, I regret the question.
Anya walks to the front door and opens it, waiting. The warmth we generated has left behind a distinct chill. It’s something I need to get used to, being apart from her. This is going to be our new normal. I no longer have the right to touch her whenever I want and I’m not the one she’ll confide in when she has a secret.
The thought makes me unbelievably sad.
Even though this is what Anya wants, the thought of her feeling like she can’t talk to me makes me ill. What if she needs something?
When she doesn’t say anything else, I grab my coat from the back of the couch and shrug into it. I walk to where she’s standing, still avoiding my eyes. Without considering the wisdom of my actions, I take her arm gently. She tenses but still doesn’t look at me.
“I’m going now but I just wanted,” I clear my throat, unsure of exactly what it is I’m trying to say.
After this I’ll be keeping my distance so it suddenly seems even more important that I get this right.
“What is it, Law?” She looks at me finally, her eyes searching mine for something I can’t give.
“I just wanted to say that no matter what happens, I will always care about you. If you need me, I’m there. Any time. I hate to think of you stuck in a situation like yesterday with no one to call.”
She nods slowly as tears appear in her eyes. Just like always, she sees beyond the words to my true meaning.
“You really want me to call you when I’m out on a date with someone else?”
Pulling her forward, I press a kiss to her forehead. “I want you to call me whenever you want to. For whatever reason.”
A tear finally breaks free and rolls down her cheek. She flicks it away angrily. She still isn’t looking at me and I know I need to get out of there before I forget all the reasons I stopped us on the couch.
I’m walking down the hallway when she calls my name. I turn back to see her leaning against the doorframe.
“Eventually, I will find someone else. You need to be ready for that. And so do I.”
16