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“I don’t fucking know! I honestly have no clue what’s going on with her. I’m not getting into this with you right now either. Go the hell home, Erica.”
“If I leave, it’s over.” She levels her gaze at me.
Without any hesitation, I turn and open the door for her. She huffs, snatches her clothes, and hurriedly puts them back on. She’s mumbling under her breath, but stops when I speak.
“This is over, Erica. Not because of Meredith, but because we’re not good together.”
She scoffs. “I don’t believe you. You expect me to believe that you breaking up with me all of a sudden doesn’t have a thing to do with Meredith?”
“Yes. Think about it, Erica. I’ve been shitty while I was back in Pittsburgh. I’ve been distancing myself all summer. We were headed there anyway. This is it; we’re over.”
Her eyes narrow as she tugs her shirt into place. She huffs again, shakes her head, but pushes past me. Finally, she’s gone. I hope it’s the end of the relationship because I can’t deal with her and us fighting all the time on top of Meredith showing up in my life again.
I lie down on the couch and sigh again. Meredith is a mess. She’s not herself. For her to wake up and decide to fly down to Raleigh for no other reason than she wanted to get away without even booking a hotel is the last thing she would do. Ever. It’s the kind of thing that would send her into a panic and cause her to break out in hives. And I wish that was my biggest concern.
There was a void in her dark green eyes. Her eyes used to be so bright, happy, and full of life and adventure. I swear on my life, they sparked. Something has happened to take that away. I’ll be damned if I don’t want to find out what. I want to know what she’s been through, what happened with her engagement, how she’s truly dealing with her injury, and why, out of all the U.S. cities, she chose Raleigh.
As far as I know, I’m the only person she knows here. Could she be here for me? To get back together? I can’t allow myself to think that. Mostly because I’m terrified if it’s true and equally terrified that’s not the reason why. People sometimes speak of the one who got away, how they often think about that person, and how they always regret letting them go.
Meredith is the one who walked away, but part of me has always hoped she’d return. Her leaving me is single-handedly the hardest thing I’ve had to deal with. I’ve tried moving on, but none of the relationships ever last. Some say it’s because I don’t give anyone a true chance. Some being ex-girlfriends, my mom, and my sister. My dad says it’s because Meredith is who I’m supposed to be with and no one else is ever going to be able to make me as happy as she did. No one is going to fulfill me like she did.
In the rare moments I decide to be honest with myself, I acknowledge that both sides are correct. I worry about being left, and I have a hard time trusting women while struggling with not wanting anyone but Meredith. It’s not like I could chase her regardless of what she told me. Trust me, I’ve thought about it more times than I can count over the years. How could I interfere with what she told me would make her happiest? How could I intrude with what she said she wanted? After she truly left, when I didn’t see or hear from her, when texts went unanswered, it hurt like a son of a bitch. I didn’t have the courage to put myself through finding her, pleading my case, and steeling myself for the rejection that was sure to come.
The struggle of wanting her but being unable to have her grew exponentially when I learned of her engagement.
Devastated is an understatement for how I felt when I learned she was engaged to some fellow tennis player. Her mom was the one to confirm the rumors were true. She didn’t seem as upset as I was, but she didn’t sound thrilled either, which was a telling sign for me. What mother wouldn’t be over the moon about her only daughter getting married? It didn’t make sense.
None of this makes sense.
I can still feel her hand in mine from when I briefly held it on the flight. It fit perfectly just like it used to. She would always dig her fingertips in a bit as if ensuring her hold on me. She did it again today, probably without realizing it. She has a hold on me now as strongly as she did when we broke up.
It was her who wanted it, of course. She first brought it up during our senior year of high school. Mere would start officially playing tennis full-time while taking a few college classes online. I would be going off to college to play hockey and go pro eventually. She wanted us to sever all ties, be free to see other people, and focus on our careers. She wanted to see the world while playing her game and without worrying about dealing with a boyfriend.
What kind of man would I be if I didn’t give her something that would make her happy, even if it was the one thing that would destroy me?
It wasn’t until after all communication with her ended that I realized just how much I loved her. How much of an idiot I was to let her go, while realizing it was exactly what I needed to do; for her, not for me. I remember calling my mom, whining like a baby about how I missed her. God, it was brutal. I never knew I could crave and ache for someone like that.
Mom told me to be grateful we ended o
n good terms because it meant that if there was ever a possibility of us getting together again in the future, it would make things easier. Since then, I’ve gone about my life like anyone would, but it was always, always, in the back of my mind that she would be mine again one day. One day, somehow, that woman would be mine, and would be until the day I die. My entire life since she left has felt like one long waiting period. Waiting for her to come back, or for the opportunity to arise where I could swoop in and take her back.
The day I first watched Meredith play tennis was the day I began thinking about her in my life. I was all in for the long haul. There was not one doubt in my mind that I had to have her, had to love her, had to get her to fall in love with me. The more time I spent with her, the more I wanted her, the more that feeling I had that day intensified. Even after our breakup and knowing how that affected me, I still couldn’t picture my life with anyone but her.
Life has been hell, and it’s all because she wasn’t in it. I have the career I love. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do, and I enjoy it. I’m surrounded by good people. My family is great; I couldn’t ask for better parents or for a greater sister.
But to be without Meredith? To not have her there? To not have her cheering for me as much as I’m cheering for her? To not be able to talk about my days with her? To not argue with her? To have a life completely void of the one person on this earth I want more than anyone, or anything, else?
Fuck, it’s been a struggle. Attempting to move on with someone is extremely difficult when there’s always someone else in the back of your mind whom you’d rather have. She’s been in my head since that fateful day when I saw her. Hell, she might as well be a part of my DNA. How do you move on from someone who is ingrained into your very being?
You don’t.
Not even a little bit.
I nearly gave up hope when I first heard the rumors that she was engaged. Meredith getting married would be the death of the hope I desperately held onto. However, hearing her mother tell me about it kept it alive. Her name is on my chest, for God’s sake! I needed her in my life again at some point. Maybe it would be different if I’d fallen for someone else in the meantime, but I haven’t. She’s the girl for me. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. No one else holds appeal for me like she does.
My phone rings in my pocket with a call from Meredith’s mother, Hope.
“Hello,” I answer.
