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This Jamie was closed off. His expression hardened, unmoving. A fortress, deep and mighty, plastered all over his being. I swallowed, anxiety creeping through me, my limbs tight from the awkwardness of seeing an ex who quite obviously didn’t want me around.
“Uh, well, come in, I guess?” Jamie asked. He retreated into his apartment.
I followed after him cautiously, glancing around at an apartment full of empty beer bottles, similar to what I’d seen in his car. Laundry littered the floor. A red love seat with a burn mark in the upper right rested against the back wall. A circular table butted up against a window at the other side of the apartment.
When I turned back to look at Jamie, he’d grabbed a bong—I now understood this to be the bubbling noise I’d heard in the background—and he was toking up once more. Like I wasn’t even in here with him. Like he was still all alone in a shitty world and me showing up here did absolutely nothing to help him.
“God… of course… this is the worst day of your life,” I said, letting the words slip through my lips before I could even catch myself. I’d grown so accustomed to being open with Jamie, so used to having my entire guard down in front of him, that I’d forgotten how to not be like that with him.
“What?” he asked, coughing as he placed the bong back on the table. Our eyes locked for a moment before he turned away. I caught his blue eyes which no longer held the liveliness I’d known for the last so many weeks. Instead, his eyes were lifeless, full of a void. As if he were already gone.
“Nothing,” I said.
He gestured toward the loveseat. “Go ahead and sit down, if you want. I’ll take a seat over here.”
As if following his command, I worked my way to the loveseat and sank down into the cushions. Jamie mirrored my actions, sliding down to the chair next to the table with the bong.
We stared at each other, saying nothing. His eyes full of remoteness. We eyed each other up. As if we hadn’t seen each other in years. As if these last few weeks hadn’t ever happened.
“You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” I said, managing a tremulous smile.
“Yeah.” A tiny, quick laugh escaped his lips before a sour grin formed across his face. “You could say that. It’s been, what, fifteen or so years, right?”
“Right.”
Well, not really. But, yeah, sure Jamie. In your world, it’s been fifteen.
“What? Am I wrong or something?” Jamie asked. I lit up, hoping he’d heard the thoughts in my mind. Until he added, “Your face betrays you, that’s all.”
The hope inside me deflated. Not that Jamie had to read my mind but… how else was I going to save him if he couldn’t see into my mind to know what we’d been through together? What we could share.
“Oh. No. I mean… no, you’re not technically wrong,” I said, figuring in his reality fifteen years was the complete truth. His brows furrowed, but I moved the conversation forward. “How are you?” I asked.
“Did my mom put you up to this?” he asked, completely disregarding my question. “Or one of my brothers or something?”
“Huh?”
“I’m wondering why you’re here, Jemma. How you even know where I live.”
“My mom gave me your address,” I said. “Did you know our parents keep in touch sometimes?”
Their contact will increase tenfold if you die.
“I was sort of aware of this,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “So, what, my mom talked to your mom who sent your or something? To try and talk to me and make sure I was good? Well, I’m doing fine. You can go back and give them a full report. Tell them whatever the hell you think. It won’t change a damn thing.”
“That’s not why I’m here,” I said softly. “No one sent me. I came on my own… to see you.”
He crossed one leg over the other, unfolding his hands and letting his arms dangle by his sides. Though his core posture still seemed firm, my admission that I’d come on my own seemed to get him to relax. Either that or it was the pot kicking in.
He sank into the seat a little more, allowing his back to fall against the rest behind him, and he shut his eyes. Even with closed eyes, I could feel his zoned-out energy, as if his mind had gone somewhere else, drifting away to a place where I may never be able to reach him.
“Sorry I’m not better company,” he said, voice mellow. “If I’d known that today, of all days, my ex-girlfriend was going to show up at my door… I may have prepared a little bit more, ya know?”
“I’m… I’m so sorry I came unannounced,” I said.
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault, you didn’t know you’d be walking in on such a mess. Anyway, really, how are you? What’ve you been up to all this time? Kids? Married?”
I let out a laugh, snorting through my nose.
