25
THE TRIP HOME feels cursed before we even start. I somehow set my alarm to the wrong time at Mac’s house, in a post-orgasm haze. (We had sex as soon as I walked in the door the night before, pressed against the wall, hungry, almost insatiable, aware of the clock ticking—is this the last time, the second-last time, the third-last time?) And now I am scrambling, late again but it really matters this time, there’s a plane to catch and Mac is coming with me in the cab again. I tell him not to. We should just say goodbye here in his apartment. He says we can say goodbye at my hotel. And I’m glad, because I want the extra minutes with him. We’re counting in minutes now. He holds my hand in the cab. He presses it against his chest.
The traffic is terrible, the weather is terrible, and Hayley is frantic when I get to the hotel room. She can’t get everything in her bag. I packed mine yesterday, but I still seem to have things strewn everywhere. The trinkets from the Christmas market don’t fit but I have to take them with me. They’re sentimental, precious, the most important items in my life maybe.
Mac is waiting in the lobby downstairs. Every time I think we’re doing the final goodbye, he finds a way to stay a bit longer. Hayley and I get our suitcases closed, do a final room check, and head down to the lobby. Hayley goes to reception to check us out, and I stand in front of Mac.
‘So this is our real goodbye,’ I say.
‘This is it.’
I slip my arms around him. He is wearing a denim jacket with a sheepskin sherpa collar, which is the style of jacket I have always found irresistible on men. Have I ? Or am I in such a state, I’m rewriting my own history? I don’t know. He is irresistible to me in it now. Underneath the jacket, he has the grey zip hoodie I wore at his apartment, and I pull on the drawstrings.
‘Can I have this?’
‘Have what?’
‘Your hoodie? To wear home?’ I am aware it is probably an unreasonable request, but I don’t care. We are at the don’t-care stage. I need a piece of him, the ugly taxicab ornament isn’t enough, the badly designed snow globe isn’t enough, the photos won’t be enough, I need to peel something off his body as a memento.
He looks at me, takes off his jacket and then unzips the hoodie and gives it to me, even though he’s only wearing a white T-shirt underneath. I pull it on, over what I’m wearing, and it smells like him.
‘You look cute,’ he says.
‘You’ll freeze,’ I say.
He pulls on his jacket and shrugs. ‘I’ll survive.’
He gives me a quick smile.
‘So.’ My body is trembling a little. It must be the cold weather, the lack of sleep, the extreme amounts of caffeine—it’s all hitting me now.
‘What are you doing for the rest of the day?’ I ask. I don’t know why I’m making casual small talk. Well, yes I do. I’m in denial about saying goodbye. I want to act normal, like this is fine, like it’s nothing.
‘Uh, I have to reschedule some things and catch up on stuff,’ he says.
‘What things?’
‘Well,’ he says, half-smiling and half looking like he doesn’t want to say. ‘I cancelled a bunch of stuff this week.’
‘You did?’ I don’t know why I’m surprised.
‘You didn’t think it was weird I was free to hang out every day?’ he says.
‘I…don’t think I thought about it,’ I say, feeling somewhat dense. Of course it was odd, in hindsight. ‘What did you miss?’
‘Oh nothing big. I cancelled lunch with my agent, I no-showed a physio appointment, and I need to apologise to a few friends for bailing on things.’
‘That sounds like a lot. I’m sorry.’
‘I’m not.’
I can’t look at him properly because I’m scared he’ll see too much in my eyes.
‘Well, you should go before you get too cold.’ I am being almost awful, but I need him to just go, rip the band-aid off, I am scared of how I feel right now, let alone what I’ll be like when he’s gone. Just go, just go, just get out of here. Like chasing a wild animal you nursed back to health off into the woods. Go! Live your happy, free life without me! Leave me to dramatically collapse and have a breakdown!
I finally look up and meet his eyes.
Hayley walks over, and it feels like she’s interrupting a pivotal moment, but she’s not, because what more is there to say? We live on different sides of the world. We have different lives. Neither of us has any plans to move. This isn’t a big deal. We slept together a few times. It’s a very standard holiday fling.
‘Mac, it’s been so good to see you again,’ Hayley says, hugging him. I can feel her watching, assessing, trying to gauge the situation. She has noticed the hoodie for sure.
I smile brightly.
‘Bye,’ I say, hugging him again.
‘Bye,’ he says.
We hold on to each other for a long time, until I can feel missing-the-plane anxiety vibrating off Hayley from several paces away. I step back, swallowing down every emotion.
I want to say, ‘See you soon!’ or offer some sense that we will stay close. But we won’t.
‘Bye,’ I say again. ‘Until we see each other again one day.’
‘Until then,’ he says.
We look at each other for one last moment, and I leave.