Chapter 25 Luc
I’m not sure how I ended up at the train station. I hardly ever come here, at Bruxelles Midi as we call it, so it doesn’t really make sense. Because it’s not as if I’m actually going to board a train that leaves the country . . . right?
Before today, I’d already established that I can’t afford a place to live in Besancon.
As things are now, I barely have enough money for a train ticket and a hotel room for a night.
I also don’t have any luggage with me, not even a toothbrush.
All I have is my wallet, keys, phone, and the clothes I’m wearing, so boarding a train to central France would be far from the smartest thing to do.
But what, then? I have no idea. I only came here because I panicked and didn’t know where else to go.
Cody called me twice, but I didn’t answer.
It’s too humiliating. I proposed to him as a romantic gesture, and he treated me like I was tricking him.
The worst part is that in the past, I was also left hurt and embarrassed after what was supposed to be a romantic moment.
The first time I tried having sex ended in disaster.
At some point, I’ll have to accept that it most likely has to do with me; I’m the problem.
No matter how much I may want it, it’s impossible for me to have a normal romantic relationship—just my luck.
I let out a deep sigh. My dad will have seen it coming. After all, this will be the second time I told him I’m never coming back, just to end up begging on his doorstep. Maybe, if I’m lucky, he’ll recognize my broken heart and go easy on me. Goodness, what a depressing thing to hope for.
I hate that my dad is my only choice right now. I’m still angry with him for brushing off my relationship with Cody and treating me like a child, but I have no choice. I burned bridges I shouldn’t have burned. I acted too rashly and put my faith in the wrong person.
As if to remind me of that, the automatic voice on the intercom announces that the train to Lyon will depart in five minutes.
Lyon is the station that would connect me to Besancon, but there’s no point in getting on that train.
I’m stuck here, trapped between the metaphorical railroads that make up my life.
Then, just as I think it, a voice sounds nearby, one I don’t recognize.
“Are you alright?” the male voice asks softly. “You look upset.”
I look up, meeting the gaze of a guy around my age. He has a kind face and a chubby physique. When he talked to me, he sounded concerned. I don’t know him, but he seems trustworthy for reasons I can’t quite explain.
“Je suis francais,” I say to him. “Vous pouvez me parler en francais.”
The guy looks at me, confused. “Sorry, I don’t speak French. I’m Dutch,” he replies. “I only wanted to check if you’re okay.”
“Oh. I’m . . . fine,” I hear myself say, not believing it. “Just having a rough day.”
The guy sits beside me. “That sucks. Do you want to talk about it?”
I frown at him. “With a complete stranger? Why would I?”
He shrugs. “We’re at a train station, if you know what I mean. I wouldn’t feel comfortable continuing on my way without making sure you’re okay.”
I frown at him, not understanding at all. Why does it matter that we’re at a train station? I think about it, trying to decipher what he means, and when I do, my eyes widen. Hang on, is he actually worried I’ll jump in front of a train and take my own life? Mon Dieu, just how miserable do I look?
“No, it’s nothing like that!” I say quickly. “I only recently had my heart broken, and I was thinking about leaving the country. I’m definitely not thinking about ending things! Wow . . .”
“Okay, sorry,” he says quickly. “It’s just, I live close to a busy railway and um . . . things happen there. So I was worried.”
I shake my head. “I wasn’t thinking about that at all.”
“Okay, good. Sorry,” he says again. “Still, do you want to talk about it? I know a thing or two about broken hearts, and I have some time left before visiting someone. I’m Hugo, by the way.”
He extends his hand, so I shake it briefly. “I’m Luc.” I wasn’t planning to talk to him, or anyone for that matter, but before I’m aware of it, I’m in a conversation with him. I’m not sure why, but he’s just approachable. Very non-threatening.
“Well, if you must know, the guy I want to be with is very different from me,” I tell Hugo. “I knew that from the start, but I still want him. Perhaps even more because of it, but something happened and he hurt me. Perhaps not intentionally, but badly. I’m afraid it’s not going to work.”
Hugo nods. “I can relate. The person I’m visiting in this city is someone I was in love with years ago. I always feared they’d realize we were too different, and the chances of that are even bigger now. They’re a model, you see. And I’m not.”
He looks down at himself, and I’m guessing he’s talking about his plus-size body. I’m at a loss for what to say. I don’t know Hugo, but I think he’s nice, and I don’t want to say anything insulting or perhaps weirdly complimentary. Luckily, he continues, and I don’t have to reply.
“They’re impulsive, passionate, much more adventurous than I am. They have a wild heart, so to speak, and won’t be tempered. Is your guy like that as well?
I sniff softly. “No, quite the opposite, actually. I’m the impulsive one between the two of us.”
“Oh,” Hugo replies, a little taken aback. “Then why did it not work?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, perhaps I scared him off,” I reply, sighing. “I acted impulsively, just like your crush.”
For some time, Hugo remains silent. “Crush . . .” he eventually repeats, softly.
“Yeah, I suppose you could call them that. Max always had a special place in my heart despite . . .” He silences himself and shakes his head.
“Never mind, not important. Maybe you could um, I don’t know, just spend quality time with your boyfriend.
Back in the day, that’s all I wanted with Max, just to be with them, get to know them.
But they always wanted to go out and try new things, often something exciting or risky. It made me sad.”
I look away from Hugo, staring into the distance.
He has a point, actually. This morning, Cody asked me to have brunch and spend the day with him.
That was all he wanted. I’m the one who suggested introducing him to my dad, the one who proposed.
I meant for it to be a romantic gesture, but I realize now that wasn’t what Cody was looking for.
He only wished to spend time with me and get to know me, the same way Hugo wanted with his person.
“That makes a lot of sense, actually. I think you helped me figure something out.”
Hugo’s face lights up. “Great, that was the whole point. Do you think you and your guy can make it work?”
“I don’t know,” I reply, sighing. It may be that I better understand what Cody wants, but he still said some mean things. He said I used him, and that’s the part that hurts the most.
“What you said helped me understand,” I tell Hugo. “But it doesn’t necessarily mean he and I will get together. Maybe we’re just too different, and too much has happened.”
Hugo nods. “I hope you can work it out. And who knows, maybe Max and I can too. Someday . . . if they want.” He stands up and sighs. “I’ll leave you to it, then. I don’t want to bother you more than I already did.”
“Thank you. Good luck to you as well. I hope you can still make things right.”
He gives me a slight smile that seems different from his previous ones. Almost a little sad. “We’ll see. Bye, Luc.”
And just as quick as he entered my life, Hugo walks out of it again. Strange how some short, unexpected encounters can have a huge impact on a person.
***
Hugo left several minutes ago. As a result of talking to him, I’ve abandoned the thought of boarding a train and leaving the country. He somehow reminded me that running won’t solve anything; I’d probably feel even more alone than I do now. Just like he did without his crush, whoever that is . . .
But if I’m not leaving, what will I do? Honestly, I have no idea.
I stay where I am, sitting and thinking on the bench in the hall of the train station. Will Hugo and his crush work out their differences? Will Cody and I? I’m not sure. I don’t even know what I want at this point.
Apart from Hugo, nobody talks to me as I sit here, and I automatically get lost in the buzz of the crowded station, lost in my thoughts. But then, when I least expect it, someone approaches me again . . . and this time, it’s a voice I recognize.
“Luc?”
I glance up, staring straight into the surprised, worried eyes of the person who drove me here: Cody. My mind boggles at the sight of him. How is he here? And what does it mean?
“How did you find me?” I ask, shocked and confused.
Part of me knows that telling him I loved him and proposing to him in front of my dad was a bad idea, but I still feel like he betrayed me.
He said one of the most hurtful things anyone has ever said to me, and he did it right after I proposed.
I was at my most vulnerable, and given what I told him about my past, he should have known better.
I’m angry with him and try to show him that by throwing him a glare, although I think I end up mostly looking sad.
“I looked everywhere for you, lastly at your dad’s place, but you weren’t there,” Cody says. “And since you mentioned wanting to go home, I figured I’d look for you here at the station and . . . I suppose I got lucky.”
My jaw tenses. Lucky, he said. I don’t know why, but something about that word feels wrong.
Irritation wells up inside me. Maybe it’s like I told Hugo: Cody and I are just too different.
Perhaps too much has happened. After all, love is supposed to be easier, isn’t it?
Or is it always like this? I have no idea; I only know that it hurts.
“Leave me alone,” I mutter, standing up. “You’ve already said enough.”
He shakes his head, his gaze hopeful. “No, I haven’t. I said things I shouldn’t have said, but I haven’t said nearly enough. Will you please hear me out?”
Merde, I can already feel tears welling up in my eyes again and my throat clogging. “Whatever it is,” I reply, trying to keep my voice from breaking. “I don’t want to hear it, so don’t try to follow me.”
I turn around and walk away from him, even though it feels like a knife twisting in my chest, and even though I regret telling him not to follow me as soon as I say it.
Because the truth is, deep down, I want him to follow me.
I want to be with him, but I also want to be in control, and both having him and being in control of my emotions is apparently impossible . . . so I don’t know what to do.
“Wait, don’t go!” Cody shouts behind me.
I ignore him, heading in the direction of the platforms. I stay to the side, walking behind large pillars where there are fewer people. With no clear idea of where I’m going, I keep walking until, after a minute or so, someone suddenly grabs my hand, preventing me from continuing.
“Please, Luc, can we just talk?”
I turn to face him, and I must say, he looks as lost as I feel.
“I’m sorry about what I said,” he adds before I can say anything. “I just didn’t expect a proposal. Tell me, did I miss a cultural difference here or something? Is it a European or French thing to get engaged incredibly fast?”
I scoff at him. “You know better than that.”
“Yeah, well, I thought I did, but I’ve been questioning everything since it happened.”
My jaw tenses. “I’ll admit I acted impulsively, but you made me feel like a jerk for doing it, while I was only trying to be romantic!”
He shakes his head. “I wasn’t looking for a big, bold, romantic gesture, Luc. I only wanted us to be together.”
“Yes, I know that now.”
When I realize something, my insides turn to ice.
Hang on . . . Wanted, he said, not want.
Does that mean he doesn’t want it anymore?
God, this is so confusing. For a minute, when I was talking to Hugo, it felt like this might be easy.
But how can love ever be easy, especially when it involves me?
With my track record, I don’t know how I ever believed it could be.
There’s only one way this can end: I’m getting dumped.