16
I’m brought back to the present and wonder how much I’ve ever actually known Alex.
Oblivious to my bittersweet trip down memory lane, Alex takes a slow sip of his coffee. ‘They’re coming.’
I follow his lead and start drinking my beverage. The sweetness tastes almost bitter on my tongue and I hmmm in approval.
Registering the approaching footsteps, I can’t stop my body from tensing.
‘By the way, I strongly approve of your band choice.’
I splutter into my cup. I hoped he hadn’t noticed my T-shirt.
‘Holly. I thought it was you,’ Aaron greets me as soon as he stops by our table.
I recognise the doll-like brunette next to him, even though the last time we met she had less clothing on and was significantly more flushed. Aaron towers over her, and I bet he loves it; he always hated I was a bit taller.
The woman, Eva, smiles at me good-naturedly, like we’re friends and not like she’s a dirty homewrecker who derailed my life. I hate everything about her, so I ignore her and focus on the spawn of Satan in front of me. I don’t understand why he’s come over to say hi in the first place, especially with the truncated conversation about repayment hanging over our heads. If I were him, I’d avoid me. If I were him, I’d dig myself a very deep hole, cover it with heavy rocks and finish it off with a layer of concrete. I’d stay there, marinating in my own guilt and shame and contemplate what a bad person I was until I ran out of oxygen.
‘Aaron.’ I’m pleased with myself because I sound almost dignified. As dignified as somebody can be wearing a faded Spice Girls top.
Aaron scans the table and ends at the emptied sachets of sugar in front of Alex, knowing full well how I drink my coffee. Then his face scrunches up and I’m forced to find the source of offence. Alex’s hand has ended up casually resting next to mine on the table. To a stranger, it might seem Alex and I are a couple, as preposterous as it sounds. I feel wounded that Aaron should be this aghast at me having a male companion.
Judging by his rigid posture, Aaron’s waiting for me to introduce Alex or for Alex to introduce himself, but neither of us makes a move. It’s like we’ve rehearsed this. Mirth makes my lip twitch, and my nausea retreats.
Unable to stand the tension, Eva smiles at Alex, but he’s doing his Lord Sugar impression, staring at her in that intimidatingly passive way he used to at me at school. With that performance, I’ll have to buy him a life-long supply of coffee and pastries.
‘How have you been?’ Aaron loses the game. He’s always been a people pleaser and could never stand the idea of people disapproving of him.
‘Great actually.’ I don’t elaborate, and I don’t ask him how he’s been. I hope he’s had the worst time ever.
‘Aaron has just been promoted.’ Eva pulls herself up to her full hobbit height. Aaron’s cheeks gain a subtle pink sheen, and he adjusts his watch; he’s embarrassed. Good.
‘Good for you.’ I take another sip of my coffee.
Eva rubs her rounded belly pressing against the blue cashmere jumper. I’ve tried studiously ignoring that part of her body for the last two minutes but failed. ‘Oh, dear. I have to pee. It’s the baby,’ she says jovially to Alex who remains stone-faced. Who says oh dear ? She pecks Aaron on the cheek before she strides towards the toilets at the back of the café. One of Aaron’s past comments rings in my head. He used to complain that I never kissed him in public. I guess he’s gotten everything he’s ever wanted.
Alex’s phone starts ringing. For a nanosecond, his brow furrows, the old Alex glimpsing through that gesture. He used to have that exact expression whenever his phone rang, always anticipating a catastrophe, but I guess Alex had to turn into a fatalist. When he pulls it out of his pocket, Jane lights up the screen.
‘Take it. It might be important,’ I say calmly, but on the inside, I’m screaming don’t leave me . I hate to admit it, but Alex’s presence has steadied me.
He weaves through the crowd that has just strode through the door and heads outside, disappearing from view.
Once Alex is gone, Aaron drops the pretence. ‘Can’t you be more civil? It’s not like we’re at war. We split up. That’s not the end of the world.’ He scolds me like we’re still together. ‘And what’s up with that?’ He points towards Alex’s vacated seat.
It takes me a while to process his words because a part of me still thinks he’s not being serious, but his expression and body language say otherwise. How had I missed seeing what a colossal arsehat he is?
‘How would you like me to be? Friendlier?’ My voice drips with sarcasm.
He scowls at my tone. ‘Eva has nothing to do with this.’
I don’t deign to react to his stupid comment because, of course, Eva has everything to do with this. ‘I’ve messaged you,’ I say to change the topic. The power balance has tipped slightly in my favour.
‘I’ve been busy.’ He rakes his hand through his hair, making the top stand up. That’s when I notice the subtle changes about him. His hair, usually immaculately styled, looks messy, and his T-shirt is creased. His stubble has also seen better days. I wonder how he’s been enjoying his new life, but I’m not petty enough to ask him that and give him the satisfaction of making me the villain.
He exhales loudly and sits in Alex’s seat. A breath whooshes out of me. Have I given him the wrong impression?
He leans over the table, moving the coffee cups to one side. He invades my space by parking his arms so close I have to move my hands to my lap. It feels almost like the old times, when he says, ‘Let’s not fight. It’s the promotion and all the baby stuff. It’s exhausting. It’s a scan here, a pre-natal course there.’ He rubs his stubble and waits for my reaction.
I’ve never realised it until now, but Aaron is an emotional vampire. He drains but doesn’t give in return. We were never a good match.
I press my lips together until they feel numb. ‘What does that have to do with my money?’
A sullen expression forces itself onto his features. Did he really expect sympathy from me? He sits up in his seat, his back ramrod straight.
‘We can’t afford it right now. Maybe we can revisit this discussion next year?’ He sounds a degree less assured.
‘That’s not acceptable.’ His posture changes with my answer. He pulls himself to his feet, playing the height game, but I’m not going to stoop so low as to stand up.
‘I liked Eva’s cashmere jumper and her Timberland boots.’
He glowers at me. ‘You’ve always been mean-spirited. I shouldn’t have expected sympathy from you.’ He inhales deeply. ‘You always look down on people, thinking you’re better than everyone else.’ I try to interject because that’s not true, but he doesn’t give me a chance. ‘Finally, you’re showing your true colours. Casually drinking your coffee with some bloke you probably found and shagged five minutes after we split up. You are your daddy’s girl, after all.’
That is the lowest blow he could have dished out and it lands right smack in the middle of my chest. I go light-headed, and my vision starts swimming. The inside of my mouth feels like sandpaper. I feel so exhausted I can’t muster a single word.
Judging by the determined glint in his eyes, Aaron’s ready to give me some more.
‘I would be very careful about what you say next,’ Alex warns coolly, managing to loom over Aaron. He crosses his long arms in front of him in a casual stance, but his face is impregnable permafrost. My mind goes completely blank.
‘Who are you to be telling me what to do?’ Aaron barks. Either he’s brave or he’s an idiot. I would bet on the second.
Alex is nothing but calm when he answers, ‘That’s none of your business.’
Aaron measures his options but comes up short because Alex gives out raw male energy whereas Aaron just looks pathetic.
Alex finishes with a carefully enunciated, ‘Now, you’re standing in my way. I suggest that you move and take your bimbo with you.’
I cough in surprise at his wording, so unlike Alex.
Before Aaron flips his lid, I implore, ‘Just go.’ I hate the defeated tone in my voice, but it propels Aaron to spin on his heel and leave.
From the corner of my eye, I see my ex walking towards Eva who has just come out of the toilets. He whispers something in her ear at which she grimaces, and they both exit the café without a single backwards glance.
I slump in my seat, feeling drained, like I’ve just finished a double Les Mills session. My head is swirling with a myriad of emotions firing into each other, causing a chemical reaction similar to Mentos mixed with cola.
Alex seats himself opposite me with deep indignation in his usually stoic expression. Looking like golden dust, all his freckles stand out against the paleness of his complexion. I take a gulp of coffee to ease my swollen throat.
For a long moment, we sit there in silence, neither of us feeling the need to fill it with small talk. Even though I do feel the need to fill it with profanities. I have an inkling that Alex is giving me space to process what has just happened. I’m starting to gather that despite the thick layer of ice and hostility, Alex is actually a decent human being underneath. Then the past floods in and sweeps over my newly acquired idea of Alex, and his image warps and tarnishes like silver in humidity.
Unaware of my emotional turmoil, Alex curses, ‘What a scumbag.’ Abandoning his coffee, he studies me solemnly. ‘I’m sorry. That was very inconsiderate of me.’
‘But apt – that was a very accurate assessment of Aaron’s character.’ Something gave in within me after his offer of truce yesterday and now I cannot rebuild the walls I so carefully put up around myself. ‘Shame I didn’t reach the same conclusion when I met him five years ago.’
He looks nonplussed at my forthcoming comment, but my openness must unlock something within him, too, because he says, ‘I presume he’s the reason why your current address didn’t match the original paperwork?’ I nod.
He considers this before he’s ready to continue. ‘I want you to know that what I am going to say next is meant in good faith, not condescending or dismissive as it will probably come out as. I know that we don’t exactly have a good track record of communicating effectively or understanding what the other person is trying to say.’ That’s a mild way of putting it, I think to myself. ‘He did you a favour by doing what I think he did and you discovering the truth because otherwise you’d still be stuck with him and not know any better.’
Alex has always been pragmatic and said things how they were. The past and present merge together and become entwined and blurred.
Something that got broken inside me with Aaron cheating has been mended over the past two months without me noticing. I feel brand-new, reborn and raw at the same time, whole but ready to be hurt all over again. I’m a kintsugi vessel, all the broken fragments of me fused together with veins of gold. Looking at the man in front of me, unbearable vulnerability hijacks my entire being.
A peculiar fragile sensation balloons in my chest. I could fall apart with a single word. With paralysing fear, I realise I want this version of Alex to be the real Alex. I get a sudden need to run, to escape him and then run some more to dodge my crashing epiphany.
Exasperation lances my insides at being caught in Alex’s trap once again, and the last thing I want right now is his pity. Before I say something I might regret, I start gathering my things.
‘I need to go.’ I’m a trapped animal.
‘What?’ He looks genuinely puzzled at my sudden one-eighty turn. He follows my movements as I zip up my bag and slide it over my shoulder.
‘Whoa. What have I done?’ He stands up abruptly, making the chair scrape in his wake. I don’t see what he does next because self-preservation makes me storm out of the café.
I take a shortcut through the high street and cut across the car park behind the main row of shops. The temperature has unexpectedly dropped, and gravel mixed with mulchy leaves crunch and squish under my boots as I gain distance from Alex. The car park is brimming with cars, but there’s not a soul in sight. Steps sound behind me, and when I realise who it is, my heart jolts in my ribcage and then starts racing.
He must have run here because Alex’s cheeks are flushed, his chest heaving, and his eyebrows drawn together in an angry line. He’s standing so close yellow specks are glinting in his green eyes. ‘You forgot your purse.’ He shoves the familiar polka-dotted item in my hand. I deserved it.
‘See you later.’ He’s about to turn but changes his mind at the last minute and halts. ‘Actually, a thank you would do before I go.’ He carries on, ‘I thought we agreed on a truce. You asked me to help, and I did. I don’t understand you.’ He takes a gulp of air, all pretended composure wiped off his face and replaced by exasperation. ‘Are you angry with me?’
‘I’m not angry with you. I’m angry…’ I half-shout, echoing his words at the farm, but then my voice falters.
He becomes still, waiting for me to finish the sentence, but I can’t do that without compromising myself.
I take a step back to gain some composure, but he immediately takes a step forward. It’s like we’re dancing the waltz. ‘Why are you angry?’ His words come out as a gruff whisper. Familiar restless energy takes over my limbs and empties my head of any thoughts other than Alex and his closeness.
I’m done fighting. ‘I’m angry with myself because I don’t know whether this is real. And I’m angry because I still get affected by you like this.’ Stunned by my confession, he shrinks back, but I don’t stop now. ‘I don’t know which one is the real you. Is it the Alex who puts me down in front of a class or the one who asks me for a truce and admits he was wrong? Is it the one who tells me I’m a mess or the one who stands up for me against my cheating ex-boyfriend?’ I land the final blow. ‘Is it the considerate and caring teenager who seemed to like me or the boy who got bored of me and found another toy to play with five minutes after we were finished? You can’t have it both ways, Alex. You can either be an arsehole or not. I find you and your motives conflicting and confusing. The most confusing thing is that I don’t know what you want from me.’
His shoulders lift when a breath whooshes out of him at my confession. I don’t know what possesses me next, but I breach the space between us, stand on my tiptoes and draw him to me. Then I bring my lips to his. I don’t give him a chance to push me away or pull me close, because either reaction would shatter something inside me. I press my lips to his, masochistically waiting for the electric current to singe them and when it does, I pull away.
Alex’s face acquires a strange expression, dark storms stirring behind his eyes. He makes a move, but I turn around before he decides what to do and leave him standing there, dishevelled and confused.