Chapter 37 #2
So I didn’t even try to fix it, instead disappearing into my cave, both mourning and celebrating when my friends finally left me alone with my thoughts, regrets, and digital photo album, full of images and videos from the summer of Teddy being passionate and intelligent and hot as hell.
I kept finding myself staring at the one I’d taken of her by the veg garden that one day towards the beginning, looking all windswept and wild.
She’d been so terrifying to me then, in completely different ways to how she terrified me now.
I’d wanted nothing more than for her to like me.
If I could have gone back and told the Teddy of that photo that she’d fall in love with me, I was pretty sure she would have laughed in my face.
Every time I looked at it, I felt more alone.
Because not only had my friends finally left me alone, but the person I loved had left me here, too.
Left me to try to exist – try to thrive – in a place where every corner held not just a memory of her but an actual photo.
Actual documented evidence of her caring about something that wasn’t me.
If I stayed at Gwenynen, which I still intended to do, I knew the hurt was far from over.
* * *
But my friends couldn’t actually manage to leave me alone, could they? Because less than twenty-four hours after Amy had left me, Morgan had showed up at my door with a determined expression and two dog leads.
“Come on,” she said without preamble. “Lauren isn’t working today, so we’re borrowing some new rescues named Chip and Dale for a walk. You need to get out of this flat.”
I frowned at her, smoothing my rat’s nest of hair. “How did you know I was even here? I could have been…” I racked my brain for something I could have conceivably been doing on a Sunday morning, but I came up empty. “Out?”
Morgan nodded at my TV. “Jack saw you were online. Figured you were still stewing.”
It was nice, actually, to know that my friends knew me so well.
A bit annoying in that exact moment, but still nice on some level.
So I let her in whilst I changed, then walked into the warm August morning with her.
She didn’t make me talk about Teddy, info-dumping instead about her and Jack’s next trip to Portugal, and I was grateful for it.
The spaniels were adorable – energetic and friendly, and completely obsessed with every smell and stick and leaf we encountered. But they just reminded me of Willow, which reminded me of Teddy, which made my chest ache in a way I didn’t have the energy to deal with.
“So,” Morgan said as we walked along the riverfront, with the tone of someone ready to get down to business, “you wanna talk about the other night?”
“Nope,” I said automatically, popping the P to punctuate the sentiment.
She sighed. “Okay, well, you didn’t tell Amy anything either, so I’m unfortunately going to have to pester you until you do talk about it. We might as well get it out of the way.”
So as we walked, I told Morgan everything.
She already knew about the wedding, but I told her about that night in the warehouse, and about what had happened at my party.
She had the good grace to pretend to be surprised; I was pretty sure they’d all heard us hooking up.
But when I told her we’d said that we loved each other, she lit up with joy for me.
“That’s amazing!” she said, her voice excited enough that the dogs started jumping up at her.
“Is it?” I asked. “It didn’t make a difference. She still left. Or is leaving this week. Whatever.”
“I suppose,” she conceded. “But I can’t say I understand why it couldn’t work anyway. Aren’t crazy long-distance relationships a classic lesbian thing?”
I glared at her, even as I cracked a smile. “That’s basically a microaggression, you know.”
She laughed. “Sorry. But seriously, you don’t have to break up over it. If you love each other, just be together long distance until you can figure something out.”
I scoffed. “Didn’t you break up with Jack because you thought you were moving a four-hour train ride away? We’re talking about an ocean and a whole-ass continent here.”
“Okay, that’s fair.” She laughed. “But like you said, you both want the same thing, right? It’s not like either of you is trying to keep the other from what they want. It’s just … circumstance.”
I frowned. “Yeah, well, circumstance can do one. If the tables were turned and I saw my girlfriend living my dream when I couldn’t, I’d resent her.
And Teddy feels the same way. Anyone who says otherwise is lying.
Neither of us wants anything more than to be at Gwenynen for good, and it would hurt to try to make something work when only one of us can have it. ”
Morgan pulled a face. “Really? You want that more than anything?” She sounded almost incredulous, and I stopped walking abruptly enough that Chip didn’t realise until he tugged on the end of the lead.
“Yes,” I said, indignant. “Really. This is the first thing I’ve felt this passionately about in … well, maybe ever.”
Morgan stopped a few feet ahead of me and shook her head. “I call bullshit on that.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up her free hand.
“Chloe,” she said, her voice tender and patient, “you are the most passionate person I know. And not just about things that matter. If someone asks what’s better, Jurassic Park or Alien, you’ll jump in with a strong opinion before you’ve even heard the argument.
Tea versus coffee, beach versus mountains, blue and black or white and gold – you’ll be mind-bendingly passionate about any of that. ”
“Okay, but that dress was absolutely blue and black,” I said, already feeling myself getting worked up.
Morgan held up her hands as if in surrender. “I agree with you, Chloe. But also, case in point.”
I scoffed. “Okay, so because I’m opinionated, my passion doesn’t matter? It’s inconsequential?”
Morgan took a step closer. “That’s not what I’m saying. I just mean that everything is consequential for you. You’re the human opposite of the phrase ‘it’s not that deep’. You make everything deeper just by the way you look at it. Which is beautiful, by the way.”
I bit my lips between my teeth, unsure what to say. I still didn’t like the idea that importance was measured on a different scale for me than it was for others. That something I cared about was trivial.
“You’re passionate about your friends,” Morgan said, her own voice intense and full of feeling.
“You make sure every one of us feels celebrated and loved. You’re passionate about the games we play.
About the way my boyfriend packs his bag for a camping trip.
About the films we watch together on Friday nights.
And no matter what you say, I know you were passionate about your job at the rescue.
You just hated that your passion was met with transactional bullshit by the rich arseholes who go to those events. ”
My face started to burn hot with emotion, and I looked away in an attempt to hide it.
“So, when you say you haven’t been passionate about anything else in a long time, I call bullshit.
You’re just applying that passion to something new, and for the first time in your professional life, it’s being matched by the people you’re working for.
You’ve found something worthy of your passion. ”
Tears started to prick at my eyes, so I looked up into the sun, risking retinal damage to try to keep them at bay.
“Yeah, well, that’s the problem,” I said. “It’s all that deep. Including wanting to be at Gwenynen, and including the way I feel about Teddy. And she feels the same way, apparently. That’s why it would hurt so much. So what am I supposed to do?”
Morgan shrugged sadly. “I honestly have no idea. It fucking sucks. But what you’re not supposed to do, I can say for certain, is cut your own happiness off at the pass and not let yourself enjoy something you’ve worked really fucking hard for.”
I sniffled, the tears determined to come out, and I couldn’t hold off any longer.
They spilled out over my cheeks as I looked back at Morgan.
She didn’t even know what I’d offered the council; that I was prepared to give it all up to give Teddy what she wanted.
That I would lay my own happiness on the altar of hers, because I loved her.
It was exactly what Patricia had told me not to do, but here I was doing it anyway.
“Even if it’s to protect someone I love?” I asked, my voice choking up. Morgan’s expression melted into sympathy, and she caught me as I bent over, sobbing into her arms.
“Especially then,” she said. “If Jack and I are any indication, it’s that when it’s right, you won’t have to give up any part of yourself in order to be with each other.
Either the universe will give you another way, or you can forge that path for yourself.
But you can’t sacrifice your own passion. Especially not you.”
We stood there for several minutes, me crying onto Morgan’s shoulder, dampening her curls with my tears.
People walked past, a few good Samaritans stopping to ask if we were okay and if we needed anything.
It was the fourth time this happened that I finally broke away from Morgan and dried my eyes.
They weren’t even wet anymore, just puffy and sore.
I was sure I looked like I’d had an allergic reaction.
My conversation with Morgan didn’t fix anything practically.
I was still in the same position I’d been in that morning.
But it fixed something inside me: the imposter syndrome I’d been feeling for months, watching how much love and passion Teddy poured into what she did.
But Morgan was right – I was passionate, too.
And competent. And I didn’t know if anything would work out with Teddy, but I wouldn’t let that stop things from working out for me.
* * *