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Walking back out toward the crowd, we part ways. She says she needs to check on a few things, leaving me to mingle alone for the first time tonight. I’m sure we can both feel it. The abrupt shift and a certain kind of staleness between us that’s never been here.
Ugh, what just happened?Ten minutes ago, everything was fine. I was on top of the world. I was happy. Happy with work, happy with Willette, even happy about this party despite not wanting to be. Things were good. Better than good. And now? Now, everything feels fucked up.
I wish she hadn’t told me. I wish the guys had never said anything. I wish we could hit rewind for just those brief minutes. Because now what? Now fucking what? I don’t love her back. I don’t mean that in a bad way; it’s just new. I mean, I’ve always loved Willette, but I haven’t beenin lovewith her. I’ve always cared for her. But in love romantically? I’m not there yet.
So now, I get to sit here, knowing she hopes one day I will be. And that’s a lot of fucking pressure. I barely function with regular relationship pressures. That kind of hope or expectation…I don’t know if I can handle that.
Most of all, she was right. I was better off not knowing. Because now I have no idea what the fuck to do.
* * *
The party windsdown a couple of hours later. People sang to me. I blew out candles. Willette plastered on a smile, though it didn’t light up her face like normal. I’m loading gifts into my trunk and we haven’t spoken more than two words to each other since the revelation. That can’t be good.
After what seemed like a very long car ride home, it’s still silent between us as we unload the gifts, climb the stairs, and unlock the door. All without saying a word. Each time I think I should say something, I feel so awkward due to the length of silence that I chicken out, swallowing the thoughts before they leave my lips. Which only seems to increase the amount of silence.
It’s a vicious cycle.
Once there’s nothing more to be done and we’ve stopped moving around, I stand awkwardly about two feet away from her. She’s looking at me, expectation in her eyes. I know she’s waiting for me to break the tension, to do something that proves nothing has changed, but I can’t.
I’m back at the party, suspended in time, in the moment right after Willette told me she’s been in love with me for more than half our lives. And I’m stuck. Because I have no idea what to say or do. I don’t know how to navigate this.What do you say to someone who expresses their love for you before you feel the same way?
“So…” I start. “Listen.”
“You don’t have to say anything. As for earlier, it’s no big deal. Just forget it,” she says. “Please.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” I admit.
“If you don’t love me back—and for the record, I don’t expect you to—then please, just don’t worry about formulating a response.”
I nod, sure of only one thing: this situation calls for less words. Less words means less chance of making it worse. I say nothing as she kicks her shoes off, sinking by nearly two inches. I say nothing as she moves closer, the hesitation clear in her slow, deliberate movements.
“It’s been a long day,” she says.
“Yeah,” I agree.
“Maybe we should go to bed,” she suggests.
I nod again, folding my hands into my pockets as we retreat down the hallway to her room.
I can’t say for sure whether it’s a good idea to sleep in there with her or not. On the one hand, if I don’t, it will be very clear that I’m not okay with the information I heard earlier. But if I do, I might never have the balls to tell her the truth.
As I step into her room, she turns.
“I’m pretty tired, actually,” she says. “And I know you have to get up early, so sleeping in your own room might be easier.”
The look she’s wearing in her eyes makes it clear that she’s sparing me. She’s sparing me the discomfort even though it hurts her. And I know it’s hurting her. I can see it everywhere, all over her. Her slumped shoulders, the avoidance of eye contact. Even the way she’s speaking, hushed and somber.
“Okay,” I say, because I don’t know anything else I could say in this moment. “I’ll see you in the morning then.” I lean toward her, pressing my lips to her temple.
Willette offers a halfhearted smile, only for a moment, before pressing her lips together and pulling her top lip between her teeth. I know this face. I’ve seen it time and time again throughout the years. She’s biting her tongue. And I’m not sure if it’s for her sake or mine.
Either way, it hurts.
HARD TO FORGET
WILL
Maybe he was running late for work. Maybe he was called in early. There are several reasons and possibilities as to why I woke up this morning to a completely empty apartment.
