13
I arrive at Whitebird right at six.
I don’t want to be here. Though Ben passed out thirty minutes ago, exhausted from his afternoon, I still thought about canceling.
I don’t need a walk down memory lane. I don’t need to catch up with Liam. But for some reason, here I am.
Liam has changed into a graphic T-shirt and black pants. It reminds me of his Ramones T-shirt on the first day we met. Even
in Chattanooga, he looks fashionable and cool, so completely New York. I glance down at my own summer dress and sandals, suddenly
feeling self-conscious. He smiles when he sees me, that dimple a pronounced comma in his cheek.
My stomach flips, and I feel momentarily caught. I haven’t been looked at this way by another man in years. Ben flashes through
my head like a neon sign, and I almost turn around on the spot, crawl into bed, and beg Ben to let me skip this entire week.
“Hi.” He stands respectfully at a distance, and so do I.
“Hi.” I feel foolish being here, and my entire body wants to bolt. Instead, I motion to the hostess stand. “Shall we?” After I give Liam’s name, we are led to a lovely table outside. The sounds of the city swell around us, and I realize how much I miss going out to dinner with Ben, not a care in the world except what’s on the menu.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I say when we’re settled. It seems like a safe enough place to start.
He unfolds his napkin and drapes it across his lap. “I can’t believe I’m here either.” He steeples his hands together and
looks at me intently. “I’m really sorry for what you’re going through. I can only imagine how hard this is.”
I have no words for that. A giant knot lodges itself in my throat. “It’s the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever been through,”
I say. The emotion fills my voice, and I’m desperate to change the subject. I wonder if Liam has suffered any great losses
other than the death of his mother. I glance at his ring finger, which is bare. I realize I know absolutely nothing about
his life. “But Ben has been so strong through it all,” I add. If the situation were reversed, I’d have probably given up.
“And you don’t think there’s any way he can still reach remission?”
The question takes me by surprise. “No.” I shake my head. “The doctors all confirmed it’s too late.”
He fiddles with the corner of his menu. “Well, doctors can be wrong.”
“I know, but it’s already spread to his organs. Stage four.”
“And yet he’s still here.”
“He is.” For the moment.
“I’m excited to get to know him better and learn more about his journey,” Liam says. “I think his story can inspire a lot
of people.”
Though Liam is here to write an article about Ben, there’s no way he can capture the greatness of him. The truth of who he was before the cancer and who he is beyond it. Who we once were together. Who we have become. I want to scream from the rooftops how exceptional he is, how he’s a person this world needs , how I selfishly wish the universe would sacrifice someone else. But I don’t say any of that and quickly push the thoughts
away, because every time I think about losing Ben, it feels like pieces of me are literally dying too. “Tell me about your
life,” I say.
He sits back and taps his fingers against the chair arms, playing them like a piano’s keys. “Well, there’s not that much to
tell. I got a job at the New Yorker , then moved over to the Times . I’ve really made a home there.” He shrugs. “I’ve gotten to travel and meet some amazing people. I still love the city. It
suits me. Though I can see the appeal in a place like this.”
“Are you still in the same loft?”
He grins. “Believe it or not, I am. I finally bought it about five years ago.”
This gives me some strange bit of satisfaction, to know that I didn’t imagine that loft or that week. I take a sip of water
and wait to ask more questions until after we order wine and dinner. Once the server is gone, I motion to his bare left hand.
“Married? Divorced?”
Something like regret passes over his face and is gone just as quickly. “Neither,” he says.
“I find that hard to believe,” I respond honestly.
“Why is that?” He cocks his head, and I remember that gesture well.
“I don’t know. Because you’re one of the good ones.” This I am sure of, even if our time together was brief.
He laughs. “I appreciate that. But if I’m being honest, I haven’t been lucky in love. Career, yes. The rest? Eh.” It seems
there’s more he wants to say, but I don’t press.
The server brings us our wine, and we clink our glasses and take a long sip. The alcohol loosens my nerves as we move on to other topics: my art, teaching, our life in Chattanooga. He listens intently, asking the right questions, but the whole time, I can’t stop thinking about Ben.
“So this crazy idea Ben had,” Liam says, as if reading my mind. “What do you think of it?”
“I think it’s insane,” I say. “Obviously.”
“But completely romantic,” Liam adds. “It takes a very selfless, secure man to want to do something like that for his wife.
He seems like a very stand-up guy.”
“He is. He’s the best.” I swirl my wine. “But he knows there’s no way I could fall in love with anyone else.” I know that’s
the truth, even though someone I used to love is sitting right across from me.
He folds and unfolds his napkin. “Earlier you said not to say anything about us. I’m curious. Does Ben not know about New
York?”
The question, while innocent, makes me feel like we’re doing something wrong. Suddenly it hits me: Ben unknowingly sent me
to dinner with someone I used to have feelings for. Would he still do that if he knew what Liam once meant to me?
“No, he doesn’t,” I say simply. “Look, I know Ben says he wants me to find someone else,” I continue, circling back to his
initial question, “but he doesn’t mean it. Not really. And my whole heart is with him.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to
tell Liam this, maybe to prove that I really have moved on and I’m okay.
I wait for Liam to say more or ask another question. Does he think fate has brought us together again, or that this is all just some wild coincidence? Or maybe he wants to talk about our breakup all those years ago so that we can finally get into all of the hard things that were never said. All the blame and hurt. Have some closure.
Sensing my discomfort, Liam changes the subject, and before I know it, I’m laughing as he recalls hilarious stories from his
travels. Then we’re ordering another bottle of wine. Everything leaves my brain: the stress, the sadness, my unending grief.
“I forgot what it’s like,” I finally say, dabbing at my eyes with a napkin.
He looks at me quizzically. “Forgot what it’s like to what?”
“To laugh.” My words are loose and free. “To just relax for a little while.”
He sighs, swirls his wine glass, then lifts his gaze, taking a bated breath. “I’m so sorry you’re both going through this,
Harper. I can relate. Not completely,” he rushes to add. “But I remember how hard it was.”
I nod. “I know you can.” Losing a parent isn’t the same as losing a spouse, but loss is never easy, no matter who it is. The
air charges between us in the silence, and for one fleeting moment, I remember how Liam could make me feel better. It still
lives somewhere deep inside me, bubbling to the surface as though it never left.
Once the check comes, Liam insists on paying. “Can I walk you back?”
The question takes me right back to that first day we met, when he took me into his home, no questions asked. “Sure.”
We cross the street, and he leans against the front of my building, closing his eyes for a moment before settling his gaze on me. “I know this is all so strange, Harper. Me being here. Doing this interview. I don’t take any of it lightly. But for what it’s worth...” His voice trails off before continuing. “It really is good to see you again.” I can tell there’s more he wants to say, but thankfully he doesn’t.
We’ve both had wine. I know that’s why he’s being so honest, and it feels like we are walking a tightrope. I have to be careful
of what I say, how I respond. I think of Ben, upstairs, the love of my life, the man who trusts me enough to go out to dinner
with another man while he’s sleeping.
“You too, Liam.” His name should feel dirty on my tongue, like a secret. I haven’t said his name in so long, but I find that
it’s a relief to say it again, to validate his existence in my world, however short.
“Well, get some rest.” He pushes off the wall and walks toward me. For one excruciating moment, I think he’s going to lean
down and kiss my cheek, but he merely pulls me into a hug. I fold into him, breathing in his clean, sharp scent. Time slows.
I rest my head on his shoulder and grip him uncertainly, our history pressed between us, everything that was once a memory
now alive again. He is taller than Ben, built so differently, but still, I fit.
I pull away and take a few steps back. “Sleep well,” I say.
I move inside and wait for the elevator. It was just a dinner, just a hug, but I still feel like I’ve done something wrong.
I try to center myself as I walk down the hall toward our condo. When I open the door, the living room is dark. I peek inside
our bedroom to find Ben still asleep. My heart aches as I see him tucked in our bed. I should have been here tonight. I shouldn’t
have gone to dinner without him.
I don’t feel tired yet, and the last thing I want to do is disturb Ben if he’s already asleep. I walk out onto our balcony,
which overlooks the Edwin. I scan the many hotel windows and, shockingly, find Liam on his balcony too, arms draped loosely
over the railing, staring right at me. My breath catches as I lift my hand in a small wave.
He waves back, his eyes piercing mine even from across the street. I don’t know how long we stand like that, but eventually I go back inside. Confusion and guilt consume me as I get ready for bed and crawl in beside Ben. He stirs as I lie there and offers me a sleepy smile.
“Hey, you,” he says. “Have fun?”
I smirk, outlining his jaw in the dark. “Define fun.”
He reaches for my hand and kisses the back of it. “It’s okay to have fun without me.” He closes his eyes again. “You deserve
to have fun,” he murmurs.
Do I? Tears fill my eyes and trickle down my cheeks, as if by having a good time with a man I once loved, I have betrayed the man
I love now.
I watch his breath deepen as he falls back to sleep, twitching every so often. I trace the outline of his eyebrow and lean
in to kiss him softly on the forehead.
Here is my present. Not my future, as I would have thought or as I planned. But now, with Liam suddenly back in my life, everything
feels muddled. I close my eyes and will my brain to stop turning. Liam will only be here a short time and then return to New
York and his big, successful life there.
I am no longer a twentysomething, and we are no longer in each other’s lives.
I am a married woman, to the love of my life, who is sleeping beside me. I grip his hand and snuggle in closer as our body
heat mingles and rises.
Liam flashes through my mind again, but I ignore it and think only of Ben.
After a while, I drift to sleep.