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“It’s not too late. It’s not like you’re fifty years old,” he said, and I may have been hallucinating but his voice sounded a bit hurt as he went on with his little speech. “And you care about him … a lot. I heard you crying about him the other day.”
I glowered at him. “Heol. I am so not okay with you butting into my personal life. How much did you actually hear?”
“Not sure … but I remember you crying and saying, ‘oh no, what if you die?’” He imitated me using his girly voice. “And then he was like—”
“What’s wrong with you?” Scrunching my face, I stepped back from him. “You’ve changed. You never talked this much, and I had no idea you eavesdropped on people.”
He chortled. “You had no idea I’m bi.”
“Don’t call yourself bi if you didn’t even love me,” I snapped, fighting the urge to hit him with my tiny little fists.
He was relentless and kept talking, “I did love you … I loved you, Aera.”
I froze.
Love?How could any of us know anything about love? But if he did, it could only mean one thing: he fell out of love with me. Tragic, isn’t it?
“Speaking of us … Back then, for some reason, I had to convince myself that we were not a good fit, and when I succeeded, my heart naturally opened up for someone else.” His voice cracked as he continued, “Aera, I may be infatuated with Keith right now, but my feelings for you have always been genuine. I loved you, and I still care about you.”
“Hold up. Forsomereason?” I snorted. The truth was nothing he said made sense.
Despite Cole doing his thing again, where he tells me something vague and makes me feel sorry for him by showing me his soft side or telling me a senseless sob story, I had no interest in the possibility of rekindling what was already over. The old Aera might have wanted that, but not this new Aera. It would have been nice if he told me his reasons about why he’d thought we were not a good fit, though.
“Oh, sweetheart,” I cooed. “I know everything.” That was a lie. “I knew you were bisexual too. I always had this strong feeling …” My voice trailed off momentarily before I continued on with more conviction. “A vivid suspicion. I never confirmed it, but my heart and my eyes saw all of you since day one. I just kept quiet.”
“You knew everything?”
“Half of what I just said was a lie. It’s up to you to choose which one is true.” I lifted my chin proudly. “Forget it. Just don’t be an earwig next time. It’s not cool—”
“Tell me,” he cut me off, “why didn’t you say anything before?”
I gritted my teeth. “A stupid part of me wanted to believe you more than anything so that I could keep your confused as fuck ass. I wanted to keep you.”
His smile fell. “Oh. That’s n—”
“Cole.” I sighed, internally regretting my choice of words. “I have nothing against your sexual preference, okay? I don’t care if you’re gay, bi, or whatever. I wanna be your friend. I wanna be Keith’s friend. But maybe not right now. I don’t think we should talk as if nothing happened, and I don’t think you should be telling me how you felt for me before now that we’re over. Do you even understand how I feel?”
He nodded slowly, lips parting and closing as he squeezed his eyes shut.
“This is the first and the last time I’m gonna say this …” I took a deep, courageous breath. “Cole, you couldn’t give me the closure I deserved. You had me thinking I wasn’t enough. That maybe I made you feel like you were walking on eggshells the entire time during our relationship. That I was the only one at fault. I was losing my mind trying to piece everything together because you couldn’t tell me. Whatever your reasons were, if you had just told me instead of leaving me in the dark, I would’ve understood. It would’ve hurt me, yeah, but I would have listened.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“I know!” I shouted, triggering a coughing fit that only served to fuel the rage rippling through me. “It’s too late now,” I gasped out, taking a moment to catch my breath and clear my throat as my rage subsided with the release of finally getting closure. “Don’t say it again or I will make sure I cough right in your face so you can be miserably sick too.”
He lifted his gaze as his eyes fluttered open, allowing him to witness the sheepish half-smile curving on my mouth before I let it fall.
“I mean it,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Seriously? I said I know.” It was never me. It washim, notme. Those were his exact words.
Hold on.
Okay, maybe it wasmetoo.
He bit his lip and looked down as he shoved his hands in his pocket. His awkward stillness and his hurt expression suggested that I somehow made him feel like a horrible human being. I should’ve celebrated because he was the first guy to ever break my heart, and he deserved a taste of my bitter, bottled-up feelings no matter how acidic. But seeing him pout like an innocent child didn’t feel as good as I wanted it to. My chest did feel a bit lighter, though, like I had just released fifty percent of heartache from my body.
I swallowed hard, trying to restrain myself from rambling and coughing. “What I mean is you can stop being sorry now,” I clarified. “I know I complain a lot, but that’s just me. I understand why you kept it from me. I tried to put myself in your shoes the other day, and honestly, I think I would’ve done the same. If I suddenly realized I didn’t love you anymore, or that I was no longer straight, I wouldn’t stay with you either.”
