“You’re awfully quiet over there,” I say, watching how she’s leaning back against the counter, arms across her chest, staring out across my apartment like she can see to the ends of the earth.
“Sorry, just got lost in my brain there for a minute.”
“Yeah, I noticed. Want to share any of those big thoughts with me?” I ask, knowing I’m holding back my own.
Her shoulders lift with a big inhale and then she sags back against the counter as she blows it out, her eyes dropping to her shoes. “I don’t know where to start. Honestly, I think I just need to be alone to sort through some things. Is that okay?”
“Of course that’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, Joss, you know that.”
She nods. “Yeah, thanks. I better go back to my place. I should clean up over there. You probably want your apartment back anyway. I’ll come over tomorrow to move my stuff out.”
She’s still not looking at me, at least not directly. What the hell happened? The space between us yawns open again, growing even wider. Maybe everything I’m feeling is one-sided and I’m alone in wanting our arrangement to change and develop.
“There’s no rush, Joss, don’t worry about that.”
I knew this was fake. I knew it was supposed to just be a show for her parents, but her moving her stuff out feels final. Like the end of something we never really had.
“Yeah, okay.” Her hands tighten on the counter before she pushes away. I can’t just let her leave like this.
“Joss?”
“Yeah?”
“I know you feel like you need to do this on your own right now, and that’s alright. But I need you to know something.” I finally have her attention, eyes fully on mine, and there’s something stirring underneath. I slowly step closer. “You deserve to have people in your life who will be there for you no matter what, okay?” Her eyes turn misty, a single tear sliding down her cheek that I can’t resist swiping away, leaving my hand cupping her face. “Do you believe me, sweetheart? I need to hear that you understand I’m not going anywhere. I’m willing to share the burden if you want me to. Tell me you believe that.”
She shakes her head, another tear escaping when her lids close tight. She’s breaking and I don’t know how to hold her together.
“I don’t know how to believe that, Wes. I just don’t.”
For the second time today, she turns away from me and walks out, shoulders shaking under the weight of everything she’s always had to carry alone.
I pace my apartment. The hours between Joss walking out of here and now have stretched on for what feels like an eternity. My stomach chooses this moment to rumble, and the thought of eating alone, not sharing dinner with her like we do almost every night, feels like one more punch to the gut.
Every minute of the last few days runs on a loop in my head. The way she let me in, telling me about her family. Our first kiss on the couch. Waking up this morning tangled in each other. The taste of her skin, the feel of her body. How she let me hold her on the bathroom floor, and the way she handled her parents. The look in her eyes when they finally left. The way she just shut me out. All of it, again and again and again.
If today felt overwhelming for me, it was a hundredfold harder for Joss. I wish she would talk it out with me, let me carry some of it. She trusted me enough to let me in, and it was an honor that she did. I don’t understand what happened between then and now, how I somehow lost that trust. I’m desperate to find a way to fix it.
I run my hands through my hair, knowing it must be a mess by now. I take in each and every item that she placed in the apartment. I want to hold them all, these pieces of her that she left behind. The blankets, the pillows, the books, the frames—
A jolt goes through me. Walking with purpose to the kitchen, I grab the paper bag that’s been sitting there since last night when I came home with the pizzas. I’d completely forgotten about it when Breck and Talia showed up. Pulling out the contents, my fingers caress the smooth metal, coasting just above the glass.
My heart clenches as I take in every detail. The picture is one Breck sent me. It’s a candid of Joss and me at the bonfire. Her legsare draped over the arm of her chair so they lie in my lap and my hand rests on her thigh possessively. Our faces are lit by the firelight, and we aren’t looking anywhere near the camera. No—we only have eyes for each other.
I don’t remember that exact moment or what we were talking about, but my heart yearns for it. A stolen moment, forever immortalized. I had it printed and framed yesterday. At the time, I told myself it was just a part of the ruse, a way to prove our relationship to Joss’s mom. But looking at it now, I understand it better.
I saw this picture and it let me in on a secret I’ve been keeping from myself: none of this is fake. That thefakingis what we’ve been doing all along, well before this weekend. Pretending that our connection is less than it is when really, it’s everything.
Holding the picture, I walk to the couch and pick up my phone. I’m ready to call Joss and force her to talk to me, to share this revelation with her. I flip it over in my hand only to see my little sister’s face on the screen, her FaceTime call coming through. I try to remember the last time we talked. Too long. I hang my head, feeling guilty. I haven’t been the best brother the last couple months. I slide my finger across the screen, setting the frame on the table as I sink down into the couch.
“Hey, Roars,” I say, and she grimaces.
“Hey there, stranger,” she says. She’s always hated that nickname. As she takes me in, her face softens. “I’ve missed you.”
“I know, I miss you too. I’m sorry I haven’t been great about calling. I’ve just been really busy.”
“How are things going? How’s the flying?” I can feel her worry through the phone.
“It’s going great. I love taking these groups up, it’s so chill. Nothing like it was in the Navy. And working with Breck, getting to do life so closely with my best friend… it’s freaking cool.”
