Chapter Thirty-One
Chloe
The guilt finally hits when I come home and find Paul in his office. I look at his naked back as he types away at his keyboard. He isn’t aware I’m standing here. Tears fall down my cheeks. I ended our relationship today. I slept with another man. I’m falling in love with another man. The words haven’t been spoken to him yet, but I now know it’s over. I simply need to tell him.
How? How do people do this? How do they carry on affairs for weeks, months, or even, years? I don’t know. Maybe they grow numb to what they’re doing. Maybe Paul’s already been doing it for years, and that’s why he doesn’t sleep with me anymore. He’s simply accepted what he’s doing. I might never get to know either way.
I’m grateful Paul isn’t aware of my presence. I lean against the doorjamb and watch him for several minutes. If this was Mason, he’d have turned by now. We can feel each other’s presence when we’re within seeing distance of each other.
Paul’s muscles flex as he moves his fingers in a perfect rhythm, lost in the world of tech, creating something beautiful for the world to use. I do love him. But how? How do I love him? I have no problem thinking of him as my friend, my first lover, my partner. But what does this mean? Are these just words now? I remember how we felt ten years earlier when we started out. There was so much excitement and nervousness. There was disbelief in finding ourselves.
How has all of this faded? How have we become strangers? I know I’m going to lose him, and a part of me is so broken by this thought I have to grip the doorjamb to hold myself up.
I’ve spoken to Paul almost daily for ten years. Sure, we’ve spent time apart, and sure we live separate lives. But besides Audrey, he’s my oldest friend. What have we done to each other?
More tears fall as I stand in the doorway for minutes upon minutes. I can’t go to him, not after what I’ve done. I can’t look him in the eyes. He continues working in silence. I watch as words take shape on his monitor. What is he creating? Is it something beautiful that will lift the world up, or something terrible that will pull people under?
Does he know what’s happening between us? Does he know what I’ve done? Has he done the same? Is this new program he’s developing a new beginning for him? Is it a new beginning for me? His work has changed so much over the years, as he has. He’s gone from silly and sweet to darker and brooding. Has it been a slow progression?
He won’t share with me. He’s pulled within himself, and he hasn’t taken me along with him. Does this excuse what I’ve done? Does it excuse the way I’ve let things happen? I honestly don’t know. I believe no one can judge another until they walk in their shoes.
I finally move away from the doorway. I’m sadder now than ever. He hasn’t sensed me standing there, isn’t even aware when I’m around. It’s different with Mason. If I’m anywhere near him, he looks up and seeks me out. It’s been this way since we first met. The feelings have only grown stronger as we spend time together.
Have I ever felt this way with Paul? I think really hard. Sadly, I realize I haven’t. I was so young when we met — young, na?ve, and innocent. I haven’t ever felt a strong pull toward him, I’ve always only felt safe and taken care of. I thought that would be enough. It obviously isn’t — for either of us.
And now our lives are changing. We will go our separate ways and we might never see each other again, an almost unbearable reality I don’t want to face.
I’m awake for hours, taking a long, hot shower and changing into my most comfortable flannel pajamas. I try to read, but can’t concentrate on the words. I can’t watch television. I can’t seem to do much of anything. Finally, I climb into the bed I’ve shared with Paul for ten years.
I lie down, snuggle deeply under the blankets, and tremble. I don’t know how much time passes before Paul slides into bed behind me. He moves across the bed and places his arm around my middle, pulling me against him.
More tears fall as his breathing deepens, as his body relaxes. I still find comfort in his arms, as if we belong together. But not as a couple. I hate myself for being so weak, hate that I have this dark secret between us. I hate that I’m too selfish to let him go. I’m going to miss my friend when he’s gone. I won’t miss the lover, though.
I also realize even though I’m in agony for the way I’m doing this, that I’m not letting go of Mason either. I’m a fool, and I know I’ll eventually lose them both. I have no doubt I’ll lose myself too. Somehow, it’s still worth it, because I can’t walk away . . .