Special - Celeste POV - Almost, Again #2
Then cried again.
Quiet this time.
Exhausted.
"I could've made you happy."
There.
Ugly thought.
Dangerous thought.
Maybe true.
Maybe not.
I didn't know.
"I think I could've."
And that was what hurt.
Not—
I deserved her.
No.
Lia wasn't a prize.
Not—
Tori stole her.
She didn't.
Not—
Lia made the wrong choice.
I didn't know that either.
Just—
I could see the life.
That was all.
I could see it.
Lia coming home.
Me stealing kisses in the kitchen.
Her forgetting medicine and me standing there until she took it.
Her pretending she didn't need rest.
Me winning.
Obviously.
Maybe marriage.
Maybe children.
Maybe not.
Sunday mornings.
Her businesses.
Mine.
Separate.
Together.
Her looking intimidating outside.
Me looking worse.
Both of us coming home and immediately becoming ridiculous.
I could see it so clearly.
Maybe because I had wanted it before I knew I was allowed to.
Maybe because we'd been almost for so long that my brain had already furnished the house.
I laughed through tears.
Stupid.
There wasn't even a house.
Still—
I could see it.
It could've been us.
That was the grief.
Not that it had been promised.
That it had been possible.
My phone buzzed.
I looked at it.
For one horrifying second—
I hoped it was Lia.
Then hated myself for hoping.
It wasn't.
Friend.
I ignored it.
Another buzz.
Dad.
From downstairs.
eat something
I stared.
Then—
not hungry
Immediate.
not asking
I laughed.
Asshole.
I stood eventually.
Washed my face.
Very carefully.
All that good makeup—
gone.
I stared at my clean face.
Swollen eyes.
Red nose.
Terrible.
At least honest.
Then my phone buzzed again.
This time—
Lia.
My entire body reacted before my brain did.
I stared at the screen.
Just her name.
Fuck.
Don't.
I opened it.
home?
That's all.
Of course.
Because she cared.
Because she was Lia.
Because apparently heartbreak had not revoked her concern.
I stared for a long time.
Wanted to say—
yes.
Wanted to say—
no, actually, I died somewhere between the restaurant and my bathroom floor.
Wanted to say—
come here.
Worst one.
Wanted to say—
choose me instead.
No.
No.
I had already asked the only question that mattered.
She answered.
I typed—
home
Pause.
Then her reply:
okay
Nothing else.
Thank you.
Thank God.
Because if she had said—
are you okay?
I might have lied.
Or worse—
told the truth.
I put the phone face down.
Then whispered to the empty room—
"No more."
There.
My boundary.
No more kissing.
No holding hands because we forgot.
No stupid dinners where I went home hoping she'd change her mind.
No becoming the woman waiting beside a closed door and calling it friendship.
I loved myself too much for that.
Even if tonight—
it didn't feel like enough.
For the next three days, I did not message Lia.
Not punishment.
Survival.
I worked.
Answered emails.
Reviewed numbers.
Had meetings.
Nobody died because I was heartbroken.
Very rude.
One employee asked if I was tired.
I said—
"Yes."
Technically true.
Dad sent food to my office.
Of course.
No note.
Just food.
I ate it.
Also growth.
At night—
harder.
My hand would reach for my phone whenever something funny happened.
Because Lia.
Then stop.
When something annoying happened—
same.
When I saw something she would have liked—
same.
I kept discovering all the little places where I had started putting her.
That was almost worse than the big grief.
Habit.
Expectation.
The casual assumption that—
I'll tell Lia later.
No.
Not later.
Not yet.
Maybe eventually.
When I could say her name without my chest doing that.
Friday, Dad came into my office.
No appointment.
Terrible governance.
I looked up.
"What?"
He sat.
"Coffee."
He put one in front of me.
I stared.
"My usual?"
"Yes."
"Thank you."
He watched me for a second.
Then—
"How are you?"
"Fine."
His eyebrows lifted.
I sighed.
"Better."
"That's different."
"Yes."
He nodded.
Then—
"Still sad?"
"Yes."
No point lying.
"Still want her?"
My eyes burned immediately.
Fuck him.
"Yes."
Dad nodded slowly.
Then—
"Okay."
I stared.
"That's it?"
"What do you want me to do?"
"I don't know."
"Fight her?"
I laughed.
"No."
"Tori?"
"Absolutely not."
"Good. I don't know her."
I took a drink.
Then Dad said—
"You know what I think?"
"Dangerous."
"I think you did well."
That surprised me.
"At what?"
"Leaving."
I looked at him.
He shrugged.
"You wanted her."
"Yes."
"You didn't get what you wanted."
Thanks.
Very delicate.
"And you still didn't make yourself small just so you could stay near her."
Oh.
I looked down.
Dad continued—
"You could've agreed to friendship immediately."
"I did."
"No."
I looked at him.
"You agreed to friendship with rules."
There.
Right.
No kissing.
No accidental handholding.
No half-in.
He smiled slightly.
"That's different."
I swallowed.
"Doesn't feel impressive."
"It isn't."
I laughed.
"Thanks."
"It's just healthy."
"Worse."
"Sorry."
I looked out the window.
Then whispered—
"I miss her."
Dad didn't make a joke.
"I know."
"I really miss her."
"I know."
I closed my eyes.
"That's so stupid."
"No."
"She has a girlfriend now."
"Yes."
"I know."
"I know."
"And I still..."
My voice broke.
Dad waited.
"I keep thinking it could've been us."
There.
Again.
He nodded.
"Maybe it could've."
I looked at him.
No comforting lie.
No—
everything happens for a reason.
Just—
maybe.
That hurt.
But strangely—
less.
Dad continued—
"And maybe that doesn't mean it was supposed to be."
Silence.
God.
I hated him.
That was good.
I wiped under one eye.
"Who taught you emotional maturity?"
"You."
I laughed.
"Liar."
"Your mother."
"Better."
Then Dad stood.
Before leaving, he kissed the top of my head.
"Take your time."
"I will."
"And if Lia changes her mind—"
"Dad."
"What?"
"No."
He looked surprised.
I surprised myself too.
I thought about it.
Then said—
"If she changes her mind while she's with Tori, no."
Dad nodded.
Good.
"And if someday they're not together?"
I stopped.
That—
different question.
Dangerous.
Future.
Not mine.
"I don't know."
Honest.
Dad smiled.
"Okay."
Then left.
I sat alone for a while.
Thinking about that.
Not—
waiting.
Absolutely not.
I would not build my life around the possibility that Lia and Tori failed.
That would make me exactly the kind of person I didn't want to become.
I wanted Lia to be happy.
Even if—
God—
even if it wasn't with me.
That thought still hurt badly enough that I needed a minute.
But I meant it.
I did.
And maybe someday—
I would see her again.
Maybe she'd say—
How are you?
And I could answer—
Good.
Actually good.
Maybe I'd ask about Tori.
Maybe it would hurt only a little.
Maybe not at all.
Maybe I'd love somebody else.
Maybe I wouldn't for a while.
No rush.
No replacement required.
I had already learned one thing from Lia—
people were not vacancies.
I looked down at my coffee.
Then whispered—
"One day."
Not—
one day Lia will choose me.
No.
I couldn't live like that.
Just—
one day this won't hurt like this.
That was enough.
For now.
Still—
I looked toward the empty chair across from my desk.
Imagined Lia sitting there.
Smirking.
Annoying.
Pretty.
Mine—
No.
Never mine.
Not like that.
I corrected myself.
Lia.
Just Lia.
And because apparently healing did not require lying—
I let myself think it one more time.
It could have been us.
My eyes filled.
I smiled anyway.
"Almost."
Again.
Then, very quietly—
"Fuck you, Lia."
Pause.
My smile broke.
"I really wanted it to be me."
And this time—
when I cried—
I didn't fight it.