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“Hey. Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod, lying. What’s going on in my head shouldn’t be anyone’s worry, but my own. He extends his hand, placing the bag in front of me. My eyes follow, confused. What did he get? He sits down properly, next to me. My gaze returns to him, confusing lacing my expression.
“Open it.” He smiles.
I hesitate, before opening the bag and looking inside. There’s a cardboard cup holder with two plastic cups containing iced coffee.
“You don’t look great, and you said that iced coffee is your comfort drink. It took some time to find an open café at this time, but I did eventually,” he explains.
I’m unable to hide the smile tugging on my face. I reach in and grab one of the cups, taking a sip immediately. The cold substance passes down my throat, cooling my body.
The bag still has another cup inside. “Why two?” I ask, turning back to him.
“Well, that depends on what you want. Some people like drinking with a partner rather than alone, and if you’re one of those people, I’m happy to drink it. If not, they’re both yours,” he answers. He hates iced coffee. He drank it by force last time. Why would he even offer to drink it again?
“I don’t think I’ll be able to drink two, but you don’t like iced coffee.”
“Who told you that? I love it, I drink it every day, have since I was born,” he jokes.
The heaviness in my chest lifts slightly. I slide the bag toward him, and he takes the cup out. He takes a sip, grimacing at the taste. I laugh at his reaction and he turns to me. “It’s great,” he lies.
I take another sip of mine, savoring the taste.
“So, are you okay? The truth now,” he asks.
I stare at the drink in my hand. “I’m fine. I always am,” I answer.
Elias is quiet for a moment, before he continues. “I heard that you and Lorenzo talked.”
I inhale in a sharp breath, my heart pressure increasing. Lorenzo and I talked. And I messed up again, just as I did with Elias. Always messing up.
“Yeah, we did. How did you know?”
He lets out a sigh. “We had an argument of our own.” Lorenzo and Elias had an argument. Lorenzo knew Elias wasn’t lying anymore, so it had to be a good argument. A good outcome.
“Was it a good one or a bad one?”
“Well, he doesn’t hate me anymore, so I’m going to lean toward a good one,” he answers. Relief calms my body down. They’re not fighting anymore. At least there’s that. At least I didn’t completely ruin their friendship. “How about you?” he asks.
I raise the cup to my lips, taking another sip before I answer. “I don’t know. It wasn’t a good argument, but it wasn’t a bad one, either. At least, I don’t get to decide that because I started the argument,” I sigh, moving my legs so that they’re bent under me.
“I’m sure that wasn’t the case,” he states.
“How would you know?”
“You tend to blame yourself for things you didn’t do. A lot,” he mentions.
My skin feels colder. My mind doesn’t give me much of a choice. Everything was my fault at some point, and I’m still convinced it still is. It’s exhausting, and I hate myself for it. But I was the one that caused everything at the beginning, I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with the consequences.
“I know,” I utter. I return my focus to him, and find he’s already looking at me. His eyes lock with mine. Those eyes. Who knew the color brown could do so much. “I’m sorry. About Christmas.”
“It’s okay,” he says softly. “It’s not your fault. If anyone’s, it’s mine. I shouldn’t have put you in a position like that.”
I shake my head, pursing my lips. “No, it was. This time, I mean it. I shouldn’t have played along, I just ended up hurting you.”
“I’m fine, don’t worry,” he assures me. He’s fine now, but he wasn’t then. All the fights, the anger, the sadness. It was because of me. Because I couldn’t stick to my decision.
An urge hits me, and words rise in my throat. “You know, you were wrong. Before you left the other day, you said that you didn’t prove me wrong enough. About you being like Roland. I just want you to know that you did. You’re nothing like Roland. You are the complete opposite, actually. You aren’t the problem, I am.”
