Then, that confusing pendulum of indecision kept changing things. I’d go back to square one and think, no, Ara, what are you saying—you don’t want him to love you, because that means Fate has decided you should let David wander the earth, miserable, for eternity.
I felt kind of like Sherlock Holmes, examining clues, pacing around in my own head; to live or to love? That is the question.
But, if I had to spend the rest of my human life with anyone other than David, the only person I’d want would be Mike. So, I guess the question would be: to live and love for all my life, or to kill and love eternally?
I was beginning to wonder why I got out of bed this year.
When the plates no longer contained food and the last of the enthusiastic catch-up wore down to more planned questions, Mike shook his head and smiled. “Know what I found the other day?”
“What?”
“Remember that picture we took at the golf course?”
“The day you tried to teach me how to play?” I started laughing, already replaying the tragic ending to that day in my mind—tragic for the window of a golf cart, that is.
“Yeah.” Mike laughed. “You were so much smaller then, and you still had that gap.” He pointed to his front teeth.
I ran my tongue over my gums. “I thought you said you didn’t look at any pictures of me over the last few months?”
Mike looked down at his hands, smiling under reddening cheeks. “Well, maybe a few.”
I shook my head. “Then how did you forget what I looked like?”
“I guess I didn’t, really. You’ve just...You know, you’ve grown up so much while we were apart.”
“Of course I have. Did you think I’d stay a little girl forever?” Although, that was a likely possibility.
“I just never expected time would change you so much while I wasn’t around to see it. You’re—” he considered carefully, “—well, you’re a woman now.”
“A woman? Mike, I’m seventeen. No older than when I left.” I laughed.
He shook his head. “It’s not your age, it’s something…else. I don't know, maybe it’s just that you’ve been through a lot. Guess it’s bound to leave its mark.”
“You mean scar.”
He reached across the table for my hand; I reluctantly placed it in his. “I’m here now, baby girl. I didn’t know how much I was missing you until I saw you. Now it feels almost like my heart might tear out if I have to leave you again.”
“I’m sure you’ll change your mind after two weeks with me. Then you can go back and get on with your life,” I said, then laughed in an attempt to bring nonchalance back into the room—since it suddenly got very intense.
He nodded as he said, “I’m beginning to rethink that.”
“Rethink it? Rethink what?”
“I miss you, Ara—you belong in my life, you always have. I… look…I have to tell you something.” His shoulders lifted a little. “Please don’t get mad, okay?”
“Okay?” My limbs tightened.
He looked down at our hands for a second, then back at me with those caramel eyes, warmed with a smile but infused with anxiety. “The truth is, I came here to say goodbye. One final goodbye before I let you go for good. You seemed to be getting on with your life, but, now I’m here, I can’t do it.” He shrugged and one corner of his lip turned up. “So, I’m going with plan B.”
“What’s plan B? Hire a time-machine for the week and change the past?”
“Ar—” He gave that deep groan and intense stare he always gave when I was being silly. “Baby, I… on the plane over here, I was sitting next to two old ladies, and I was so stuck in this cage of uncertainty I actually talked their ears off.”
Oh dear.
“I don't know what the best way to say this is, and I don't know when’s the right time—so I'm just gonna come out with it.”
“Wait. Don't say it yet.”
He shook his head, already decided. “Baby, I love you.”
My heart imploded; I pulled myself together quickly, opting for Ignorance Road. “I know you do, Mike, and I know you’ll always be my bestie.”
“Yeah, but… that’s not what I meant and you know it.”
I sat frozen, my lips shaped to the word Ah! And then it all folded inward, tears streaming down my face as it crumpled like I’d eaten a lemon.
“You know, you’re not supposed to cry when a guy says he loves you,” Mike said.
I sobbed into my hand. “Tell me you don't mean it.”
His upturned palm appeared under my cave of asylum; I ignored it, looking away. “I do mean it, baby. I… I want you to come home with me when I go.”
“No!” I shot up out of my seat, hugging myself. “Don't say that. Don't say that.”
“Are you serious?” He stood up, reaching.
I pointed a stern finger toward him. “Take it back.”
“What? Why?”
“Take it back! Now!”
“Baby, I can't take it back.” He touched his chest. “It’s how I feel.”
“No, no, uh-uh.” I waved my hands around, blinded by tears. “Nope. Nup. You don't. That’s not right.”
“Ara?” He walked toward me, primed to steady the crazy beast.
“Don't come near me.” I shoved him really hard and took a few steps back since he didn't even shift an inch.
“Okay. I can see you’re a little upset, so, I'm gonna just—” He motioned to the table. “I'm just gonna sit. Okay?”
I stood shaking, breathing like a tired puppy.
As soon as Mike sunk into the seat, he breathed out profanity and dropped his head against his hand.
“Please tell me you don't mean it?” I could feel myself rocking back and forth. “Please tell me you just feel bad for me because my mum died.”
“That’s what you think this is?” He stood up again. “A pity party?”
I nodded, hopeful.
He went to reach for me but stopped and swiped a hand across his nose. “Is that what you want it to be?”
I folded over a little, feeling myself die, breath by breath. “Please just take it back, Mike. Please? I know you mean it but…please?”
“Why?” His voice broke.
“It’s…I can't hear that.”
“Why?”
“Because you don't know what you’ve done.”