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There’s no harm in giving this a try, preferably in a way that doesn’t make me look too interested. I stare at my hands, trying to gather my thoughts. Can I do it though? Can I be so close to him and feel nothing?
I don’t know how long we’ve been sitting here but it must be a while because eventually Dennis appears, followed by a concerned Brian. Rose moves to stand between us, but I whisper in her ear, “It’s okay, let me… let me see something.”
Rose gives me a side glance and nods, taking Dennis with her. There are still people around us, making this place less than ideal to have a talk with him, but that doesn’t deter Brian.
“I’m so sorry, Carol, I didn’t want to upset you. Are you—”
I appreciate the worry in his voice and the fact that he can’t finish that sentence. Looks like he’s starting to get how much his abandonment hurt me.
“I’m fine. I guess I needed to get it out of my system.”
“Do you want me to leave?” It’s more of a statement than a question. Brian has regained his composure and seems ready to take the rejection and leave. But I do want those answers, among other things.
“No, it’s okay. I already feel much better.” I chuckle and try to offer a warm smile. “Can we talk somewhere more private? I do have a lot of questions.”
He’s taken aback by the change in my behavior, the doubt crystal-clear in his eyes, but he doesn’t voice it. Instead, he offers me his arm. “Anything you want.”
I link my arm in his, feeling every bit of his tense muscles and shooing away all the memories that seek to resurface as we head to the other side, toward the private verandas.
Chapter Six
Brian
Ourbriefencounterafew days ago cannot compare to being so close to her and hearing the sound of her voice—even if that means coming face to face with how much I hurt her.
Carol has regained her composure but even now, as we sit in silence, I can feel her anger. She has always been genuine and forthcoming so it’s hard for her to maintain a polite façade. She bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes flashing with rage, hurt, and perhaps a little curiosity as she stares at the city lights. There’s also a twinkle in her gaze—she’s planning something. Maybe she wants to know more about the past and believes I’ll avoid answering her questions. Or maybe she’s just trying to find an alternative solution for the wedding so that she won’t have to go with me.
“So?” she asks, “I thought you wanted to explain why you left me like that.” Carol shifts her gaze from the view that has captivated her since she sat down and turns to me once more.
The trellis offers some privacy and at the same time, it feels as if we are up in the sky. The scent of the flowers combined with her powdery perfume is intoxicating. I sit next to her, making sure she can’t see how hard I am. That would definitely ruin my attempt at a sincere confession and perhaps reconciliation.
Or maybe not. I’ve rehearsed this conversation countless times these past few days, but my fantasy always ends up with us crashing into each other, consumed by desire.
I take a deep breath and shake my head. This is not the time nor the place to act like a horny teenager. This is my only chance to apologize and make her feel better about the past, to show her that me leaving had nothing to do with her.
“Before we met, I didn’t believe in— let’s just say I had a bit of a vulgar lifestyle. I guess I wasn’t sure what I was doing or what I was looking for in life and I did some stupid things.”
“Like what?” Carol asks but there’s no need for me to answer that question. Her eyes widen at the realization, and she leans back in her chair, a little smile of concern or disappointment on her lips.
I look away, my heart clenching heavily. Despite the chilly temperature, I can feel a thin layer of sweat forming on my forehead. Even after so many years, I still find it hard to gather my thoughts to tell her directly.
“One day, the girl from that one-night stand came to my door with a baby—my son, Daniel. I barely remembered her; more than a year had passed since we—” I take another deep breath and lean back too in an effort to calm down. My first memory of my son, as much as it was one of love, was also accompanied by the dread I felt at hearing I was a father. “I didn’t believe it at first. I mean, if that child was mine, she would surely have reached out immediately, not when he was five months old. It took me a few days to process everything, and I scheduled a DNA test just to be sure.”
I sigh, remembering that day. “The results came back as I was getting ready for work, and I felt like my heart would stop beating.”
Already certain that this was a mistake, I had arranged for a date with Carol later on, ready to continue my life as normal. Maybe it was just denial.
I called in sick and canceled our plans, meeting Jane instead. We talked for hours about our son and why she had waited that long to tell me. He was tiny back then, staring at me with those curious eyes of his, and even though I refused to acknowledge it, he was clearly a carbon copy of me. There’s no point in overwhelming Carol with these details, at least not now.
“There wasn’t much I could do. I had a responsibility to him and his mother. So—”
“You married her,” she finishes my sentence almost breathless.
“Not only that, I moved to New York, to my father, and started working with him.” I chuckle. This was perhaps the only good choice I made back then. In my desperation to make things right, I ended up doing almost everything else wrong. “No matter how prestigious the college, a professor doesn’t make enough to support three people. Or at least not the way I saw it.”
I don’t know what she was expecting to hear but this clearly wasn’t it. Carol taps her foot lightly, biting her lower lip again, trying to wrap her mind around what I have just told her, and perhaps wondering about the missing piece in my story: while everything is true, it doesn’t explain why I broke up with her like that.
“This doesn’t excuse how I left but— I was too ashamed to tell you what happened. I mean, I wasn’t some horny student who couldn’t spare five seconds to put on a condom.”
