Chapter Fourteen Hindsight is Twenty/Twenty
Mirabelle found their seats and looked over her shoulder to see if Bastian was aboard yet. Part of her was nervous that he had walked away when she walked through the gate, even though she knew he would never leave her to go through with the trip to Ann Arbor by herself. Tucking her carry-on under the seat in front of her, she still kept one eye on the front of the plane until Bastian appeared, and she was able to let out the breath she was holding. He slowly made his way down the plane to her, and when he was seated and buckled in, she reached out and took his hand, loosely entwining their fingers. “I’m sorry, Bast, I really didn’t mean it as a bad thing.” She peeked up at him and saw he was looking down at their intertwined hands. When he didn’t respond, she swallowed and kept talking, determined to clear the air between them.
“I meant that you see me as more of something loveable and cuddly, like a cute baby animal that brings you comfort and you enjoy being around.” Bastian finally looked up at her. She could see he was torn between exasperation and amusement, and she decided to take it as encouragement to continue. “As for the other thing, you’re right, it’s been eight years and you were angry and hurting when you said it, but I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to think. You sleep with someone every six months or so, but you haven’t been in a relationship since Ana.”
“You think I sleep with someone every six months or so?” He raised an eyebrow, looking mildly insulted, and she winced. She didn’t actually know if he slept with them or not; she couldn’t imagine going eight years without sex and had just assumed that was what he was doing since she knew he wasn’t asexual and most people have needs. “Just find a random woman, screw her, and send her on her way?”
“You tell me you have a date every six months or so, and unless I ask how it went, you never bring them up again.” She shrugged, feeling uncomfortable and wishing she had kept her assumptions to herself. “And when I ask, you say it never worked out and don’t elaborate.”
The amusement and exasperation were back on his face, and he let out a small scoff. “Every six months or so, I attempt to date again; very few of them get past the first date, and I can count on one hand how many of them have actually made it back to my bed in the last eight years.”
“Oh.” Mirabelle wasn't sure how she felt about that. She was happier thinking he was getting off and leaving, and maybe that’s why she had believed her assumption. The thought of Bastian attempting to make a connection with another woman made her feel… Well, she wasn’t sure what she felt, but it almost hurt. She pushed it away; it wasn’t fair to feel that way, considering she had been married. “You never told me that.”
He shrugged, appearing to be unbothered by what she had assumed, but she could see he was miffed that she thought that way about him. “Didn't see a point since I never got serious about them.”
She squeezed his hand to show her remorse, knowing he would wave her off if she apologized again and more curious about why he never found someone to be serious about. “Why not?”
Bastian snorted and shook his head, pulling his hand free as he leaned down and pulled his carry-on out from under the seat. “I have impossibly high standards, and they never compare.”
“Compare to who?” she asked, watching as he got his laptop and set it up on the tray because that didn’t really make sense. Bastian dated all kinds of women physically. She could honestly say he didn’t have a type that way. Although he did tend to avoid redheads since his divorce, he was more interested in someone’s intelligence and personality.
“You have to ask?” He rolled his eyes and started clicking on his laptop. Mirabelle frowned, annoyance beginning to set in. Mirabelle was smart, but she was pretty sure Bastian had genius-level intelligence, something he brushed off and put down to having a good memory. He would occasionally act like she should know the answer to something and get annoyed when she didn’t, which never failed to irritate her.
“Well, I don't know! How am I supposed to know? You vaguely mention having a date to me, then don’t say anything else about it other than it didn’t work out!” Mirabelle burst out in frustration. “It’s not like we discuss our sex lives, Bast!”
Bastian shook his head, still looking like he couldn’t believe she didn’t know. “It doesn't matter.” He said firmly as he turned his laptop toward her. “Here. I did some research into things to do in Ann Arbor while we’re there that were supposed to give us a chance to show off our loving, happy relationship, but since we’re going as friends, let me know which ones you want to do.”
Distracted momentarily from his dating life, Mirabelle leaned over to read the schedule he had put together. In true Bastian fashion, it was an organized and in-depth spreadsheet.
AM PM Monday 10 AM: Arrival 11 AM: Check-In (Weber Hotel) 7 PM: Dinner Reservations (The Earle) Tuesday Art Galleries
Luna Beach
8 PM Tribute to Fleetwood Mac Wednesday The Creature Conservancy Matthaei Botanical Gardens Thursday 7 PM Oasis Hot Tub Gardens Friday White Lotus Farms 7:30 PM Dinner Reservations (Sava’s) Saturday 10 AM Check-in – (Stone Chalet) Wedding Sunday 11 AM – Flight to NYC
Mirabelle read through it quickly and immediately became much more excited about going to Ann Arbor. She had been so focused on her dread of seeing Eddie and Casey again, not to mention the inevitable awkwardness that would come with seeing her former in-laws, that she had completely forgotten to do her usual research into fun things to do there. She had to admit she was impressed with Bastian’s plans since he usually left the bulk of that to her. Not that he wasn’t capable of planning things, he was more organized about it than she was, but because he knew she liked to do it and surprise him with what she managed to find. Seeing the level of effort and thought he’d put into it, choosing things that he knew they would both enjoy. The fact that he left the occasional morning or afternoon empty so they could either do their own things or pick something together made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.
“Bast...” She didn’t know what to say and reached for his hand again, trying to convey her gratitude by squeezing it tightly. “You made reservations and bought tickets, too?”
Bastian nodded, looking faintly embarrassed. “Nothing that can't be cancelled if you’d rather not do them.”
“Why would we cancel them?” Mirabelle grinned as she reread the list, feeling the stress that had taken hold in the last few days ease off quite a bit. “This all looks amazing.”
“Then we'll do them all.” He gave her a small smile, but she could tell he was still upset. Now feeling guilty, she put his arm around her shoulders and rested her head on his chest while wrapping her arm around his waist. Looking up at him pleadingly, she tried to convey how sorry she was and that she was not above begging for forgiveness.
“Please don’t be upset anymore, Bast.” She murmured. “I'm sorry.”
Bastian finally gave her a genuine smile, the one that made the corner of his eyes crinkle and softened his whole face. “Next, you're gonna start pouting and begging.” He teased before kissing her forehead. “It's fine, Bunny. Don't worry about it.” Mirabelle relaxed and smiled back at him.
“That was the next step in my “please forgive me” plan; how did you know?”
“You have a pretty set repertoire.” He chuckled, squeezing her shoulder and resting his head on hers when she leaned against him. They were quiet for a few minutes, and Mirabelle found her thoughts going back to the fact that he was actually dating to find a new relationship, and she had no idea. She tried to let it go, telling herself that he didn’t have to tell her everything about his life, but she couldn’t do it and had to ask.
“Why didn't you tell me you were trying to find a serious relationship?”
Bastian let out a small sigh, and she knew he was hoping she would drop it. “It never got serious with anyone.” He repeated. “I didn’t think to mention it.” Mirabelle nodded. She guessed that made sense. He didn’t find someone he wanted to be with long-term, and she could see him not giving it any more thought than that. She was still curious about his comparison comment, though.
“Who are you comparing them to?”
This time, Bastian laughed, but it was dry with no amusement to it, making her lift her head to look at him in bewilderment. He huffed and shook his head when he met her eyes. “Mira, the fact that you even have to ask that question is making me wonder if I'm just that bad at expressing how I feel.” He leaned back into the headrest and closed his eyes, looking extremely reluctant to continue. “Or if you're deliberately ignoring me.”
Mirabelle was sure her heart stopped at that moment, and her hand unconsciously gripped his t-shirt. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Was he really comparing them to her? “Bast...” she whispered, not sure what to say or how to react. She had given up on the idea of them being together.
“Look, we don't have to talk about this now; I'd actually rather we didn't. Take some time and think about things. I'm not going anywhere.” He leaned down and kissed her temple. “Whenever you're ready, no matter what you tell me, I swear, I'm not going anywhere.” He murmured against her head.
Mirabelle nodded, still speechless and in shock, and cuddled tighter to him. Bastian rested his cheek on her head, shifting slightly to pull her closer, and closed his eyes again, letting her figure out her feelings. A lot of things suddenly made a lot of sense, including his behaviour following her divorce and especially since leaving Henderson. He was much more affectionate and loving, checking in, holding her all night, the movie nights, fancy dinners, and outings that she would have considered dates if it had been anyone other than Bastian, but she hadn't paid any attention to because she thought it was just Bastian being Bast, her Bast from before she married Eddie.
His attitude leading up to her wedding and the way he pulled away after, which she had just chalked up to his intense dislike of Eddie, suddenly made so much more sense, and dear lord, his intense dislike of Eddie, something she thought was because their personalities were so different, was clearly because he was, not jealous, Bastian was far too confident in himself and genuinely didn’t have a jealous bone in his body, he had been angry that Mirabelle didn’t see what he saw and chose to be with Eddie over him.
When Bastian said Disney made up passionate, romantic love, Mirabelle had decided they had another fundamental difference between them that would make a romantic relationship unsustainable between them. Mirabelle was a romantic at heart, and she loved big, romantic gestures, and for all Eddie’s faults, he was really good at them. He had proposed to her on Christmas Eve while on a horse-drawn carriage ride in Central Park by paying someone in park maintenance to write out “Marry me Mira” in Christmas lights in a stand of trees on the route. So, while Bastian was very loving and affectionate and showed he cared in a million small ways, they went unnoticed against Eddie’s far fewer but much more significant and louder declarations of love.
They were both quiet for the rest of the flight, and the conversations after landing all revolved around the logistics. Where to go to get their baggage, picking up the rental car Bastian had reserved and adding Mirabelle as a driver since he didn’t have her driver's license information when he booked it, the directions from the county airport to their hotel and small talk about the scenery as they drove. Things weren’t awkward, but they were both obviously wrapped up in their thoughts. Mirabelle didn’t know what Bastian was thinking; he mostly just seemed resigned that his feelings were now in the open, but she was still trying to figure out how she had missed all the - now - glaringly apparent signs.
Despite his reassurances that he wasn’t going anywhere, no matter what she said when she was ready to talk, she held his hand tightly throughout the rest of the flight, walking through the airport and driving to the hotel. She was almost afraid that if she let him go, he would disappear. She had resigned herself to the best friend role for years, and she found herself alternating between being angry that he hadn't just come out and told her how he felt and feeling like an idiot because she hadn’t looked any deeper than surface level with him.
For years, she thought they were incompatible as a couple, first because of the kid thing, then because she had to believe Disney hadn't gotten it wrong; it was possible and was out there for her, which she had to own was her fault. If she hadn’t been waiting for the big declaration and paid more attention to things… But still! Bastian knew her; if he wanted to get her attention, he knew what he had to do! But then she had to admit that it wasn’t Bastian’s personality to do that and asking him to be that way wasn’t fair to him, and Eddie’s grand displays had proven to be meaningless in the end, whereas Bastian had consistently proven to be committed and dependable. By the time they reached the hotel, Mirabelle was almost in a panic, no further ahead in figuring out how she felt about things than she had been on the plane.