All Again

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
BECCA

Now.

The next day, the drive to my old Malibu condo is long and uneasy.
I am exhausted from my lack of sleep, and my mind is all over the place.
I have tried putting on my favorite CD and putting the top down, but it does not ease my tensions.
Harry Styles prescene surrounds me and I’m not even around him yet.
Earlier in the morning, he had texted me for a confirmation that I was still coming. For a slight second, my fingers froze wanting to cancel.
It all seemed too much too fast.
In two days, he had completely barged his way into my life again and I felt like I was starting to suffocate.
For so long I had pushed him away and now he was everywhere.
Though, I partially had something to do with that.
After he had left my house, I had been a wreck.
Seeing him walk away from me again had damn near destroyed me. To know that he was not only walking away from me again, but going to be with his fiancé had affected me in a way I couldn’t have imagined.
Minutes after he had left, I had headed to my office, and opened up a small docs folder. Hidden deep in my computer was the ‘Harry Flies’. Over one hundred pictures of our time together.
Scrolling through the pictures of us reaffirmed what I already knew; I missed him.
And what scared me the most, was that I still cared.
Maybe I was still in love with him, and now, he was in love with someone else.
I needed to understand it though.
Why her?
After everything we had went through, why was she the one who got to have him in the end?
Why after all of the makeup and breakups, had it led us to this point?
What was the damn point? So he could end up with Malibu Barbie?
So she could profit off of everything I taught?
No.
Hell no.
It wasn’t fair.
Where was the happily ever after promised in books?
This Julie St. Clair, the blonde bubbly supermodel, wasn’t even good enough for him. Sure she was beautiful, and could handle the spotlight, and would give him beautiful children one day- but, could she raise them?
Would she be a good mother?
Could she even be a good wife?
I sincerely didn’t think so.
She probably couldn’t even screw in a light bulb.
As my mouse hovered over our final picture, a half hour later, I was taken back to our final week together. I could see the fights and the screaming, and me walking away telling him to never contact me again.
That particular breakup, he had finally listened and kept a far distance from me.
I didn’t hear from him again, and the traces of our relationship seemed to be quickly demolished.
Within a month, the public knew and his management team quickly scrubbed our personal links. Due to Harry’s team, our breakup was a small blip on the news radar- thankfully- yet, he refused to talk about me ever again.
Becca who? was the new mantra of Sir Harry Styles.

That was what I wanted to feel again- that anger and pain.
That disposable feeling he made me feel towards the end.
I needed to remember why I had hated him for two years and why we hadn’t worked.
I needed to get over this ‘spell’ he had temporarily cast me under.
I began to look up quotes. ‘Quotes to get over your ex’.
I saw many that helped:
Hey remember that person you thought you couldn’t live without? Well look at you, living and shit.
Well, yes. I was. And I was living beautifully…
An ‘ex’ is called an ‘ex’ because it is an Example of what you shouldn’t have again in the future.
And I knew more than ever I didn’t need Harry again.
I think that part of the reason we hold on to something so tight, is because we fear something so great won’t happen twice.
Yes. That could be exactly what this was.
I kept scrolling down.
And then, I saw it. The one that hit me so profoundly that all of my tears temporarily dried up.
Don’t stress the could haves, if it should have, it would have…and I realized how true that quote was. I had always been a firm believer of what’s meant to be, will be and Harry was obviously not the one meant for me. If he was, we would have worked out.
I posted the quote on my private Instagram, so I would always have the reminder, and tried to push all thoughts of him to the back of my mind. I put on some music, and opened a new word document to update my column since I was quickly approaching my deadline. A call from my agent was coming soon I was sure.
Yet, as I typed my forth sentence, getting into the groove, my phone buzzed beside me.
A Twitter notification had let me know Harry had updated his profile.
I still followed him, even today, but at first and even a second and third glance, you couldn’t tell the profile was mine. I didn’t have a picture up, and my name had no link to ‘Becca Johnson’. My Twitter URL was now Calichick1994, a name so ridiculous that no one would ever tie it to me. And my twitter name was Ella- the name of my dog who had died when I was ten years old.
I quickly read his tweet.
If I could, I would.
Depending on the way you read it, it could have been a direct response to me, and the ‘could have‘ in my Instagram quote. However, Harry had once been known for cryptic and random tweets and I was sure the correlation was coincidence.
Still….what if it was for me?
He needed to know I had seen it.
So then, in a moment of temporary insanity, I had tweeted him back on my old account. The public one I had when we dated. Some stupid One Direction lyrics that would not only directly link to what he said, but would also have a cryptic undertone as well.
I wasn’t an idiot.
I knew exactly what I was doing.
Then.
Now I was regretting it.
I was terrified to look at my Twitter to see the damage I had caused yesterday and I was pretty sure Harry had seen it.
Harry was one of those celebrity trolls who browsed his mentions, but would never let you know.
9 times out of 10, he saw most of the stuff posted about himself and he got a personal kick out of the ridiculousness of it all sometimes.
I didn’t receive any more 'Harry' notifications, so he didn’t tweet anything further.
Still I was nervous for what the day would bring.
What if I started to fall for him again and what if he unleashed that ‘Harry charm‘ on me?
Could I easily walk away again?
I had spent so long running from the mess we had made, but now I was doing it all over again. I was at his complete beck and call. It was just like the old days when he consumed every thought and it bothered me that after five years, he still had this hold on me.
Lost in my Harry thoughts in the car, I suddenly hear my phone chime on the seat beside me. I pick it up and see it is a text from him.
Glancing quickly between the screen and the road, I read his message.
*Almost here?*
I glance at the clock on the dash and notice it is twenty minutes from eleven.
I pick up my phone, tapping the speaker button. I turn down my music and began to speak.
*You should learn patience Styles. I will be there.*
I feel my phone buzz again but I don’t check the text. He would see me soon enough.
Fifteen minutes later I pull into our old neighborhood. The silver lettering of our old building looks back at me. It is a luxury condo that Harry surprised me with a year and a half into our relationship.
I pull into the private parking ramp and hand my keys over to the valet. Along with 24 hour doorman service, the residential lobby is secured by an officer. I quickly flash my old key and pass and head upstairs to our floor.
When me and Harry split, we agreed to let the condo go, so I am still confused as to why I am here.
When I reach our private floor, memories instantly flood me.
It doesn’t help that a piece of our history stares back at me.
Stepping onto the Welcome mat I purchased long ago, I knock on the door.
I look down at the mat, studying how perfectly preserved it seems for its four years of life, when the door opens.
My eyes travel up and meet Harry.
My God, is he still an Adonis.
He is dressed up more today than yesterday in a oversized cream sweater and his darkwash skinny blue jeans. A pair of black sunglasses rest on top of his head, and his silver iPhone is attached to his ear.
He smiles at me and gestures me in.
“Yeah, okay I will.” He says into the phone, as I step inside. “I’ve already approved that budget though.”
I can tell then the call is work- related.
Forcing myself to not stare at him, I break my eyes away and take in the condo I once called home.
Nothing has changed.
I mean, absolutely nothing.
It is exactly how I left it two years ago.
My decorations, my touch, some of my things…
I’m instantly confused.
I turn to look back at Harry as he wraps up his call, and his eyes are all over me.
Today I have chosen to wear a casual sundress and a lightweight blue jean jacket. He smiles at me as if he approves of my outfit choice.
When his eyes linger a little too long on my bare legs, I turn back away from him.
It is then I hear him end the call behind me.
“You made it.” he says, moving past me and dropping his phone on a nearby table.
Our eyes meet and I instantly gesture to the condo.
“Yeah I did…what is this Harry?”
His eyes follow my gesture and he checks the condo.
“What?” he asks.
“This condo.”
His wide green eyes take in the condo quickly, inspecting.
He doesn’t see it.
He smiles back at me and doesn‘t say anything right away.
I sigh in slight frustration as he just looks at me; not getting it. I gesture again and his eyes travel between me and the room.
“Well Becca, I’m confused by the question.” he finally says. “What are we talking about?”
His voice is playful and his smile is wide.
“Nothing is different.” I point out.
He continues to just look back at me. “So?”
“Do you even live here?” I ask in disbelief.
“Sometimes.” he says and goes into the kitchen behind me. I follow him.
“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” he asks.
I shake my head no.
“Are you sure? I’m making BLT sandwiches, and have the cheese that you like, and I even went to the store and got those cheddar chips you use to eat.” And then he looks up at me with a wide smile, “You still like them right?”
I stare back at him. I take him in for a moment.
He is in a good mood today. A really good mood. His energy is infectious.
I want to ask him what is up with him, but instead I just nod yes.
I sit on one of the stools at the bar, and he pulls out a pan.
He sets it to the side, and I casually observe him as he cuts up an apple.
It’s a task he appeared to be doing before I came. Yet with the way he sways back and forth and smiles to himself, I’m half expecting him to break out into a song and dance.
His energy is so unsettled, but in a good way.
He catches my curious stare and I quickly turn, pretending to still look at the condo.
“A penny for your thoughts,” he says.
I look back at him.
Once again, I try not to get wrapped up in the face that use to hold me captive and focus on what’s important.
I gesture back to the condo.
“I thought we agreed to get rid of this place?” I ask instantly.
He shrugs. “We did, but I couldn’t.”
“But you obviously don’t live here, I mean…nothing has changed Harry.”
He heads to the fridge and pulls out some turkey bacon.
“Maybe I like your decorations.” he argues.
I look around again.
“But she’s not here… like at all. Doesn’t Julie want to change anything?”
“Julie has never been here.” he says and I turn back to him in surprise. “And she never will be. She doesn’t need to know about this place.”
“You’re not going to tell your fiancé about this house?” I ask in disbelief.
He nods no.
“Well that‘s deceptive.” I say.
“How?”
“You’re lying to her Harry. This is like a secret life or something.”
He picks up an apple slice and pops it in his mouth. “No I’m not.”
“Well why would you keep it? Is this suppose to be some ‘in case’ pad?”
“In case what?” he asks, opening the bacon pack and pulling strips into a pan.
“In case it doesn’t work out.”
He chuckles.
“No. I just…It’s comfy.” he says simply. “It’s nice to have.”
He lays the strips like he is creating a canvas and I watch him again in interest. It has been a while since I have seen Harry cook and today, he has my complete attention.
Still, he has not answered my question. Comfy, doesn’t describe why he keeps this place. It has to be costly.
“So you still pay for two houses in the city then? Or do you rent this out?”
“No.” he says. “I don’t let anyone in here.”
His tone is serious.
“Since you left, I’ve been the only one that stays here, and it‘s not that often as you can tell.”
“But why?” I ask. “Why do you like this place so much?”
Again he shrugs but gives no answer. I shake my head to myself. This makes no sense to me.
Another great Harry Styles mystery.
“So…” he begins, moving on. “I talked to my Mum today. She says hello.”
“You actually told her we were meeting?”
“Yeah why not?” he asks, eating another apple. “It’s not like she hates you or anything.”
He then shifts the plate to me to have some.
I show him quickly I’m not interested, moving it away.
“It’s just weird.” I say. “Did she seem upset?”
“Not at all.” he says gently. "I think she was kind of happy."
As I process his response, he surprises me and moves around the counter taking a seat right beside me.
His Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille cologne is warm and smells good.
He smells like Harry. The old one.
He rests his hands on the counter, folding them and locks his eyes on me.
A beautiful swirl of green and black looks back at me.
I look down almost instantly.
For a second, my eyes focus on the cross tattoo on his left hand. It is my favorite tattoo still to this day. My eyes trail past his anchor tattoo that is slightly showing, and the other tattoo I like to pretend he doesn’t have.
That one, I try not to think about; another personal ode to me.
My eyes move up his arms until I’m looking into his eyes again.
Today, despite his cheery demeanor, his eyes look grayer, and there is more black than green. He is tired.
“You didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” I note reading his eyes.
He smiles and rolls his tongue over his lip. His eyes light up slightly.
“That’s good.” he says. He plays with the tips of his fingers and studies them.
“See, I told you that you know me well. You can just look at me and know things like that.“ he turns back to me, giving me a sincere look. “It‘s nice.” he says softly.
His statement makes me feel something. Something I’m not sure I like.
I quickly fight the feeling and roll my eyes.
“You have bags under your eyes.” I say as disgusted as possible. “Anyone can see that.”
“Well Jeff came over last night- to my other house.” he emphasizes. “Spent the night.”
I face him. Good Ol’ Jeff.
“How is he?”
“He’s good.”
I nod. That is good. I liked him. He was a genuine friend and always looked out for Harry.
“We talked about you.” Harry offers, keeping his attention completely on me.
I smile. “I’m sure you did. Did he tell you to run?”
Harry chuckles and nods yes. “He did. Threatened to cancel my tour if I saw you.”
His voice is light and I know he is partially joking.
Still, I wasn’t Jeff’s biggest fan in the end so I know Jeff was probably serious in a small way. I guess I had hurt Harry way too many times for him.
Now, whenever I saw Jeff out and about, we pretended not to see each other.
I rest my elbows on the table.
“Then what am I doing here?” I ask. Jeff is like a brother, and normally he listens to him.
He smiles widely and turns his body towards me. “I guess I can’t get enough of you.”
His tone is flirtatious and for a second, I think about playing back, but then decide against it. It wouldn’t be good to give him ammo.
I climb off the stool and prepare to go over to the couch.
“Well let’s get this over with.” I say.
“No.” he says looking back at me. “I have to ask you something first.”
“What?” I ask.
“About your tweet yesterday.”
I instantly clam up.
He did see it as I imagined.
“What did it mean?” he continues.
I play the dumb card first.
“Tweet?” I question. “What do you mean?”
His eyes narrow, and he’s not going to play that game.
He waits for me to quickly catch back up.
I swallow and look away from him conjuring a quick lie.
What can I say, what can I say, what can I say?
How can I lie, how can I lie, how can I lie?
He calls my name, pulling me back.
Our eyes meet.
“Just answer the question.” he says. “No bullshit or clever responses. Just tell me the truth,” he says softly.
I move away from him slightly.
“Um…What did yours mean?” I ask instead.
He smiles. Widely.
“So you saw mine too?”
“Obviously.” I say.
“How?” he asks curiously. “You don’t follow me anymore.”
“How do you know? You have forty million followers. I‘m not exactly going to stand out that easily.”
This makes him smile wider; a whole mouth of teeth is practically showing.
“You check?” he questions. “My stats?”
“No.” I say. “I’m only guessing.”
He rolls his eyes. He shifts in his seat and wipes away invisible dust.
“Well,” he says. “Then tell me. No matter what you say, I know for a fact you don’t follow me anymore.”
It must mean he checks from time to time. The idea makes me a little happy. After all, I do too. I’m well aware that he still follows my Instagram.
One day, about a year ago, he liked a photo, and then about a minute later unliked it. If he thought no one saw it, then he was wrong. That one small action had made my whole day. Still, he can’t know that. He can’t know how he still affects me.
So, being as coy and casual as possible, I answer.
“I don’t remember how I saw it.” I say.
“Of course you don’t.” His voice is filled with sarcasm, but surprisingly his tone is not upset or cold. His tone lets me know he already expected me to lie.
He lifts off the stool and faces me.
“Well I sent mine, because I saw your Instagram. Your lovely quote.”
His voice is riddled with disdain.
“That wasn’t for you.” I throw out quickly.
“No?” he asks curiously.
“No.”
“So why did you post it?” he demands softly.
“Why are we talking about this?” I ask in growing frustration. I just want to move on from the subject.
“Because you sent your tweet. Those were my lyrics right?”
I roll my eyes this time.
“I hardly think you wrote them.”
“My band wrote them.” he points out.
“Ex-band.”
“Whatever.” he says dismissing me. “You still posted it and I want to know why.”
“Why does it matter? Once again, you‘re hung up on small shit.”
He ignores my question and asks again.
“Why did you post it Becca?”
“Why does it matter?” I repeat as well.
His hands go to his hair and he pulls his sunglasses off his head. They hit the counter with a thud as they lightly slide across.
“Don’t start.” he warns. “I can’t handle that shit today. Please don’t act like her.”
“Who the fuck is her?”
I’m immediately defensive thinking he is comparing me to Julie.
“The Becca I can’t stand. The one from yesterday and the other night.”
I scoff and roll my eyes- meaning it this time.
“Screw you.” I mutter more to myself than him. I don’t think he would even care if he hurts my feelings.
And he just did.
“So are you going to answer my question or not?” he says, still determined.
I cross my arms. Why should I?
He just insulted me.
“No.” I answer.
He shakes his head at my attitude. “Jesus Becca. You can drive someone absolutely insane with your stubbornness, you know that?”
“Then apologize.”
“For what?”
“How you just talked to me. That didn‘t even need to be said.”
“Yes it did,” he said. “Because you keep doing it. You keep purposely trying to piss me off.”
“I am not.” I argue.
“Then why haven’t you answered my question yet?”
I shuffle my feet and turn away from him.
I think of a quick lie.
“Well…” I say, scrambling. “I heard it come on the radio. There. That‘s your stupid answer.”
He is not satisfied.
No you didn’t.” he says behind me. “It was never a single.”
“So what? I heard it.”
“No you didn’t Becca.” he argues.
I turn back to face him, and put on the most serious face I can muster.
“Yes I did.”
“You’re telling me you honestly heard that song, from eight years ago, that wasn’t even a single, on a radio station?”
I nod yes.
He sighs.
He shakes his head in disbelief.
I know he doesn’t believe me, hell, I don’t even believe my story, but it’s all I’ve got.
He throws his hands up.
“Fine. Fine.” he says. “You heard it on a station. So…why did you post it?”
“For fun.” I say simply.
“For fun?”
“I wanted to see if you would see it, and I like getting your fans riled up. It‘s fun to watch them scramble and debate. They always seem to think we're getting back together."
He bursts out laughing and I have to admit I like the sound.
Yet i'm confused. My eyes narrow.
“You’re so full of shit Becca." he says a moment later. "I don’t even know why I waste my time. I‘ve literally wasted five minutes of my life trying to get an answer that you‘re never going to give me.”
Now he seems to be talking more to himself…
“I’m telling you the truth,” I say turning away from him and going to sit in the living room. “Believe me or don’t.”
“I don’t.” I hear him say behind me as he follows me.
I plop down on my old couch and he sits across from me seconds later.
The couch is comfy and familiar and for a moment, I regret not taking it with me in the split.
I had been the one who had spent hours in IKEA, and vintage stores -with Harry’s money- buying stuff for our house. I had been the one who had spent hours decorating and making it our home. At the time, he was mostly in Jamaica and London working on his debut album. I was the one who had committed to this place and I shouldn’t have left anything behind- but I did.
When I walked away, I walked away with nothing.
I guess I wanted a clean slate, or the more realistic reason, which is I just didn’t want the reminders.
My eyes find Harry’s as he sits across from me.
He smiles again.
Something is different about him today and I can’t place it.
There is not a care in that handsome head of his.
“So where did we leave off?” I ask.
Harry picks at skin around his nails again and sits back on the couch.
“Can’t we eat first?” he asks. “Before we get into it?”
“I just told you, I’m not hungry.”
“What have you ate today? I remember how you use to use snacks as food.”
“I don’t know Harry. Why does it matter?” I say impatiently. “Are you going to check me into a health clinic if I don’t eat your precious B.L.T.?”
He puts his hands down and shifts his sleeve up. He leans and his elbows rest on his legs.
“Can’t we be civil today?”
“This is me being civil.” I say.
“I’m sure.”
He gives another small grin and stands up.
He heads back over to the kitchen. The space is wide and all connected together.
In the distance, I could see the beginning of our old bedrooms.
“Okay, change of topic…Does Chase know you’re here?”
“No.” I say.
Harry opens the fridge and pulls out two waters.
“When are you going to tell him?”
He comes back over to me and hands me a bottle. I take it.
“I’m not. This has nothing to do with him.”
Harry uncaps his water and takes a sip.
I watch the veins in his neck as he drinks. Is it weird that it turns me on? It reminds me of lines and veins somewhere else.
I look away.
“What about Julie?” I ask.
He stops drinking.
“I told you, she doesn’t like you. I‘m not suppose to talk to you.”
“At all?” I question.
“Nope.”
“What is her problem?” I ask finally. I don’t get why I bother her so much.
Harry smiles. “I don’t know. I don’t know why you women get so possessive and jealous.”
“I was never like that. Don‘t group me in with her.”
He looks at me in incredulity.
“Becca you were the main one. Have you forgotten what half of our arguments were about?”
“You were always helping though. You were never fully innocent with the stupid shit you use to do.”
He takes another sip of his water. “Well we’ll agree to disagree. I feel I was 100% faithful.”
And that was one of the problems…
I sigh.
“What about Jeff? Does he know about today? That we‘re meeting?”
“Of course.” he says. “Someone needs to know where to find my body.”
He chuckles at his own joke but I don’t find it funny.
For some reason, the good mood he is in today irritates me.
As far as I’m concerned, nothing about this is worth laughing about. We are a fucked up sight.
I pity us.
We need to just get this over with.
I have three hours and I don’t want to waste any of them. After today, he leaves town and I won’t have to see him again-hopefully.
“So Hong Kong,” I say placing my bottle on the table. “I think that’s where we left off.” I say quickly getting to business.
He cuts me off. “We both know what happens. We had sex. We can move on now.”
“Oh really? You seemed so keen to want to remember it yesterday?” I remind him, “Why the change of heart now?”
He smiles. “There’s a lot more sex coming up Becca. I don’t think we need to focus on the first time too much do you?”
He is right and I hate it.
I feel disgusted by all the times I gave myself to him. Not because it wasn’t incredible, but because back then, I truly believed he would be the last guy. I didn’t think I would ever have another man touch me. I gave him so much of myself, and to be here now, with nothing to show for it, is depressing.
“Okay so….” I reflect back on that time. “You didn’t call me for a month.”
“And you know why.” he says, drinking more water.
“I know your excuse.” I correct.
“Which is the truth.” he counters back.
“Zayn?” I clarify.
“Zayn.” he says simply.
I shake my head no. I don’t believe it even to this day.
He can tell.
“Becca, why would I sleep with you and tell you I’m going to see you again, only to not call you?”
“I don’t know Harry. I bet there are a lot of your girls who have wondered the same thing.” I say passively.
His eyes flash.
I have hit a sensitive spot.
He points at me quickly in anger.
“I have never treated you that way. And those girls knew it was a one night thing. Don‘t try to act like I ever just tossed you to the side.”
“Oh so you admit you tossed them away though?” I challenge.
He becomes irritated with me quickly and the first chip of happiness falls.
“Why are we talking about other women?” he asks with annoyance.
I shrug.
Why are we?
I guess because I don’t want to talk about the other subject, which is us; I‘m just being forced too.
“How many girls have you been with since me?” I ask curiously.
“I’m not answering that question.” he says.
“That many huh?” I say with a proud wink. He sure loves to get his dick wet.
Truthfully, Harry’s promiscuous ways before me (and probably after me) don’t bother me. He was young, handsome and had the world at his fingertips. It only made sense he would indulge.
His eyes slant. “How many for you?”
“Enough.” I say.
“Well good. Good for you.” he says and I roll my eyes again. It’s not the reaction I wanted. I was hoping to see a flash of jealously or irritation. I was hoping to piss him off even more.
“Have you ever asked Chase how many girls he has slept with?” he asks me next.
“I have actually. Five.”
“Bullshit.” Harry says immediately. “Maybe in one months time. He got around, I can assure you.”
“You don’t even know him.” I say defensively.
“Oh I know a lot more than you think sweetheart.”
I sigh impatiently because he is probably right. I don’t put it past him to have looked into him since Chase and Jeff are friends. After all, I have looked into Julie in the last twenty-four hours as well. Google has become a good friend. I can even tell you the woman's grade school now.
“Well it doesn’t matter. He’s with me now.” I reassure.
Then there it is…
The flash of irritation I was waiting on. That possessive, jealous look he gets.
Score another one for Becca!
He takes another long sip of his water, finishing it off.
He tosses the empty bottle on the couch beside him roughly. Then, “So what were we talking about?”
His soft tone is gone.
“Our first time, and the fact that you didn’t call me for a month.” I remind him.
“Oh yeah.” he says uninterested.
“It really doesn’t matter in the end I guess.” I say. “We ended up back together either way.”
“Yeah well you didn’t make it easy.” he says and I smile, taking a sip of my water.
“Did you think I would?”
He shakes his head no.
“No, because you were different.”
“Different how?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” he says. “But I actually missed you in that month we didn’t talk.”
I take another sip. “Well what took you so long to call me?”
“I already told you that.” he says.
“Yeah five years ago Harry. I don’t remember the specifics.”
He shrugs casually.
“I just remember going to dinner…and I had a waitress. Her name was Becca and by then, I was still thinking about you... I kind of figured it was a sign.”
“And that’s why you called me?”
“Yeah. And the other stuff I told you.” he says simply.
I play with the top of my bottle.
I think back to that time. Seeing him again...falling into the bubble...falling in love...
“I shouldn’t have answered the phone.” I say under my breath.
He smiles.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have…but you did.” he says. “You know you can hate me, and be mad at me, and we can scream and cuss each other out, but it doesn’t change things at the end of the day. That time happened Becca. We happened. And for a while, it was pretty fucking amazing.”
My eyes raise and look back at him. There is complete sincerity in his statement.
“So fight it all you want too, but just don’t do it today. Please. Can we just pretend for today that we actually like each other, and get through this?” he continues.
I grow quiet.
A part of me doesn’t want to fight, I’m just scared.
I never know what’s going to happen when I’m with him. It’s like I can’t control myself.
This isn’t our first rodeo and we’ve had similar meet ups like this in the past.
We use to break up all the time. He even wrote a song about the shit on his debut album.
Still, back then, things weren’t as bad as they are now and we were able to move past our issues.
In the past, within days I would be back in his bed.
Today, it is obviously much more complicated.
This is not going to be an easy fix.
For that, the truth would have to come out; and I refuse to ever let him know my secret.
I finally nod yes and he smiles back at me.
“Thank you.” he says.
“So,” I begin. “The day you called me…”
“Yup.” He says. “The day I called you…”
He nods and settles back against the couch.
And we start again.

Notes