irrational and idiotic, but when Clem leans into me in the café, with Heather just feet away from us, I subtly move back, just in case Heather looks over and sees us sitting there. But she doesn’t ever glance over, despite the willing of my desperate eyes. When our meeting is done, Heather is still sitting there, her caramel macchiato now empty and the notebook page full.
I know I shouldn’t. It could ruin everything. But I have to. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her. “Hey Clem, I’ll be right out,” I tell her, and then wait as they walk out of the café. I turn towards Heather and take a step, and then another, and another, all the while thinking about her hair that I had always said was brown and she had always insisted was auburn. Maybe she was right after all. How many arguments could I have avoided if I’d just agreed?
I’m standing beside her now, waiting for her to look up and meet my eyes, but she’s so engrossed in whatever she’s reading that she doesn’t look my way. I have to say something to get her attention, but I can’t think of one fucking thing after all this time. A flash of light catches my eye and it’s only then that I see the ring on her left hand; a huge rock glittering in the late afternoon sun. The possibility of her having moved on didn’t even cross my mind, but of course she moved on. She’s the one who left.
Without thinking, I take a step back. The corner of a chair catches my arm and makes the smallest of noises, but it’s enough to pull Heather’s attention in my direction. When she sees me, her mouth drops open and her hands still. “Nathan?” she whispers, surprise in her voice.
I run a hand through my hair and rub the back of my neck. “Hey, Heather.”
She looks around the café, like this is some sort of joke and she’s expecting someone to pop out of the walls and yell you just got punked . “What are you doing here?”
“I was, uh, meeting with some friends. From work. Coworkers.”
“Oh. Right.” She smiles slightly. “Wanna sit down for a bit? I need a break.” As she stretches out her hand, I take the seat across from her, careful to keep my expression blank. But there’s a diamond ring on her finger. A fucking rock.
“Congratulations,” I blurt out.
She looks up at me, taken aback, and then glances at the ring on her finger. “Oh, thanks,” she says, looking like she’s just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “It just happened a few days ago.”
I nod, and I try to smile, but I think it just comes out as a grimace. A few days ago . She’s engaged. She’s getting married. “How have you been?” I ask, trying to keep things from getting more awkward than they already are.
“Really good, actually. I just started a nursing program at a school up in Tampa. It’s a lot of work,” she gestures at the books and notes surrounding her, “but I really love it. I’m just here visiting my parents.” She puts her hands in front of her and fidgets with her ring. “How about you?”
“I’m good. I’ve been good. Busy, you know, but we’re good.” That was a lot of goods.
She doesn’t respond right away, but when she finally looks up at me, her eyes are glassy and red. “I’m sorry I didn’t- I’m sorry I wasn’t-” She stops and takes a deep breath. “You were so angry and so sad and I just didn’t know what to do or how to help. I ran, and I’m so sorry.”
It feels good to hear her apologize, like maybe we could make things right between us. But she’s engaged. She’s getting married. She sees me glancing at the ring and drops her hands underneath the table. “There were so many times when I would start to call you and hang up, or I would start to drive to your house and turn around. I wanted to talk to you so badly, but you never tried to contact me. You disappeared and I thought that meant you didn’t want-”
“My parents had just died, Heather. I didn’t think about anything other than getting
I know I shouldn’t. It could ruin everything. But I have to. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her. “Hey Clem, I’ll be right out,” I tell her, and then wait as they walk out of the café. I turn towards Heather and take a step, and then another, and another, all the while thinking about her hair that I had always said was brown and she had always insisted was auburn. Maybe she was right after all. How many arguments could I have avoided if I’d just agreed?
I’m standing beside her now, waiting for her to look up and meet my eyes, but she’s so engrossed in whatever she’s reading that she doesn’t look my way. I have to say something to get her attention, but I can’t think of one fucking thing after all this time. A flash of light catches my eye and it’s only then that I see the ring on her left hand; a huge rock glittering in the late afternoon sun. The possibility of her having moved on didn’t even cross my mind, but of course she moved on. She’s the one who left.
Without thinking, I take a step back. The corner of a chair catches my arm and makes the smallest of noises, but it’s enough to pull Heather’s attention in my direction. When she sees me, her mouth drops open and her hands still. “Nathan?” she whispers, surprise in her voice.
I run a hand through my hair and rub the back of my neck. “Hey, Heather.”
She looks around the café, like this is some sort of joke and she’s expecting someone to pop out of the walls and yell you just got punked . “What are you doing here?”
“I was, uh, meeting with some friends. From work. Coworkers.”
“Oh. Right.” She smiles slightly. “Wanna sit down for a bit? I need a break.” As she stretches out her hand, I take the seat across from her, careful to keep my expression blank. But there’s a diamond ring on her finger. A fucking rock.
“Congratulations,” I blurt out.
She looks up at me, taken aback, and then glances at the ring on her finger. “Oh, thanks,” she says, looking like she’s just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “It just happened a few days ago.”
I nod, and I try to smile, but I think it just comes out as a grimace. A few days ago . She’s engaged. She’s getting married. “How have you been?” I ask, trying to keep things from getting more awkward than they already are.
“Really good, actually. I just started a nursing program at a school up in Tampa. It’s a lot of work,” she gestures at the books and notes surrounding her, “but I really love it. I’m just here visiting my parents.” She puts her hands in front of her and fidgets with her ring. “How about you?”
“I’m good. I’ve been good. Busy, you know, but we’re good.” That was a lot of goods.
She doesn’t respond right away, but when she finally looks up at me, her eyes are glassy and red. “I’m sorry I didn’t- I’m sorry I wasn’t-” She stops and takes a deep breath. “You were so angry and so sad and I just didn’t know what to do or how to help. I ran, and I’m so sorry.”
It feels good to hear her apologize, like maybe we could make things right between us. But she’s engaged. She’s getting married. She sees me glancing at the ring and drops her hands underneath the table. “There were so many times when I would start to call you and hang up, or I would start to drive to your house and turn around. I wanted to talk to you so badly, but you never tried to contact me. You disappeared and I thought that meant you didn’t want-”
“My parents had just died, Heather. I didn’t think about anything other than getting
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