Song of the chapter: Wonder by Shawn Mendes

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It has been two weeks since I last saw Theo. 

Two weeks in another reality, another timeline, is not so much. It certainly wasn't much before Theo, nor was it a lot of time during Theo. But after Theo — it feels like centuries.

I found out a week ago that Jess had visited him.  She hadn't exactly tried her best to conceal it for long, having blurted it out that afternoon after watching me sit on the couch all day having a Hunger Games marathon. 

I know it is strange to say it but somehow it is one of my go-to comfort movies. I'm not some sociopathic person who gains pleasure from watching other's suffering — perhaps it is just that it takes me back to a simpler time when I was an innocent teenager rushing to the cinema with problems far less weighing on the soul. Or maybe it's that watching the hardships before me on a screen puts things into perspective and encourages me to pick myself up and move on.

Jess says that I don't allow myself to live through my emotions without guilt; that I invalidate my emotions through things like this and  suppress them as a result. At least that's what she started to explain before she blurted out that she visited Theo that day, which she said in her defence was to bring me back to reality and no longer lock up thoughts of him. 

Well, she did a good job because I couldn't shut away the thought of him after that — at least not completely. I occupied myself with work, with chores, with family, and it would work . . . until I obtained even a shred of silence. It was in these tiny morsels of stillness that he crept in like a gust of wind under the sliver of space beneath a door, sending the pile of thoughts in my brain flying around in a disarray. 

I would begin to question whether I would hear from him now that Jess had visited him— would this encourage him to adopt a different approach? Maybe it just made things worse, maybe he despised me more after my friend had disturbed his peace. 

Do I even want to see him again, I asked myself. Walking away from him that day I felt justified in giving up on him, as painful as it was. But did the fact that I was still thinking about him suggest otherwise? Do I want things to be different? What possible options even exist after everything that has happened?

I know it's partially of my own volition that this distance between us exists— he may have told me to close the door on us but I also agreed to it because I didn't want to be the only one trying. What had even changed, despite the best attempts of Jess, that could justify either one of us doubting these decisions?  

It is now Sunday afternoon and the weekend has disappeared in a foggy haze of tasks to preoccupy myself. Lexi and I had visited my grandmother in the nursing home in which she now reside, something I was still not adjusted to the sight of. I had dropped Lexi off at home once she needed to leave but had returned to spend the rest of the day playing cards  with Baba. She had noticed something was off about me and had tried asking if it was about Theodore. Knowing that I couldn't get away with lying to her, I admitted it was but asked that we not get into it at that moment. She, of course, accepted because no one knew what I needed better in life than Baba and she was always the one person I could rely on to respect my boundaries whilst everyone else thought that pestering me with their presence and affection would put me in a better mood. 

We went on playing everyone variation of cards that we knew— Go Fish, Concentration, Gin Rummy, Slap Jack, and so on.  I hadn't really been thinking of leaving when I was told as nicely as she could say it that I needed to go get a life and couldn't spend the rest of my weekend in a room with my grandmother. Also, she happened to have other plans.

Yep, my grandmother had a better social life than me. 

I hugged her goodbye and left her to her exciting plans while I buckled myself in for the drive home. I tried my best occupying my mind whatever podcasts I had been meaning to listen to for a while and it was actually going pretty well until I reached an episode about what to do if you don't know if you've reached the stage of your 20s when you're question all your life decisions — your job, your partner, and so on — which was all a little too relevant to my situation for my liking. So I quickly switched to some music and blasted it as loud as possible so it might block out any thoughts because I was so tired of them clouding my mind. 

Once I pull up to my street I turn it down so I don't piss off the whole street. I rush up the stairs to my apartment, eager to see Jess who I know won't allow me a minute of silence as she fills me in on all the chaos of yesterdays shift as we didn't get a chance to talk before I had to leave this morning. I had called her fifteen minutes earlier to let her know of my imminent arrival and that she needed to be ready to spill — my real life version of Grey's Anatomy. 

I unlock my door, eager to track her down and jump right into some conversation, but am surprised to find silence. Charlie does not come bounding to the door to greet me at the sound of it opening. Jess does not call out to alert me of her location even once she hears me close the door and kick off my shoes. I look around the space to spot any sign of an explanation and that's when I see it.

That's when I see him. 

I mean, it has to be me. Right? 

His back is to the window and he is looking down at the street, the tension in his shoulders obvious as he hunches over with his elbows on his thighs. His hair is swept up and to the side in a  polished yet soft wave and he wears his taupe buttoned jacket over a white tee, certainly looking more composed compared to when I had last seen him. Maybe he had gotten closure and was just here to say goodbye in a more final and clean way, to show how he was doing better while I was still a mess. 

I drop my bag and keys on the entrance table and that's when he finally notices my presence, hearing the clatter of the metal meeting the timber tabletop. His head snaps in my direction, immediately broken out of his reverie and his gaze latches onto mine, mouth slightly gaping open as his shoulders also lift with inhalation. In contrast, I find myself unable to take in a breath as I am frozen to the spot from the reality of actually seeing him again after thinking I wouldn't again. 

Needing to breathe and knowing I won't be able to do it with my eyes on him, I take a second to break the eye contact. I look towards the table where I had just left my belongings and that's when I spot the piece of paper on the edge of it with the words scrawled in big black letters: Went for a walk with Charlie, thought you could use some privacy. Message me if you need me. 

Damn it, she could've have called me or left the note on our door so I could have been more prepared . . . or more likely run away in cowardice. But no, now I'm standing here and I can feel his gaze on me pulling me to him like an invisible rope. It would appear that I had closed the book thinking all was revealed and done but there was an epilogue all along hidden in those last pages that I would now have to torture myself with before we could put away the story forever. 

I lift my head up and try to straighten my shoulders as I make my way over to him, so that I can at least appear to be okay with him being in my vicinity even if alarm bells are ringing in every part of me. I had pondered over how I might feel seeing him again and I questioned whether anger, sadness, longing or something else would overcome me. Yet, in this moment I have no idea how to describe what I feel. I wouldn't say that I am numb but I suppose I just feel like I am in limbo, all these emotions teetering on the edge of their seats in my brain and heart waiting to see him make the first move so the right one can react promptly. 

I reach the window and climb through it, very quickly finding myself so close to Theo that the scent of him is overwhelming and my senses are sent on overdrive as the abundance of memories associated with his cologne come flooding over me. But I push them and the thought of this being the last time I will inhale this scent away with all my will as I try and tether myself to the present. 

"Theo."

"Ella, he replies with a casual nod in my direction. 

I linger a moment, waiting to see who will make the next move. Surely, it should be him since he's the one who showed up at my apartment?

Sure enough, he comes through. "I came here to talk with you and Jess said you would be here soon so she said I could wait in the apartment until you arrived while she went for a walk. But, I guess I needed some fresh air so I came out here. I hope that's okay," he explains.

I nod, taking a seat on the other side of the cramped space, not knowing what to say — still apprehensive.  

"I figured we were overdue for a talk . . . for some clarity." 

And there it is, exactly what I had thought — the beginning of our closure. 

"Okay, go ahead. What did you want to say?," I encourage him, knowing that if he planned to come here then surely he has also planned his words because I most certainly didn't have any ready to be shared. 

"I guess, I think we both just need some answers."

"Some answers?"

"Yes, some sort of explanation about how everything ended up this way," he tells me, already look exasperated by this conversation. "Look, I get it. You were embarrassed. I'm a ladies man, I made you an anti-feminist, I'm a spoiled rich boy, you name it. But it is one thing if you were just spurting out things that everyone else was telling you when you were hurt, but is that what you genuinely believed? I need to know, because it seems like you did. Otherwise, why else would you have come up with it all and spread it across the internet for everyone to see?"

Before I can even begin to respond, he continues to speak — the words spilling out of him. "And if you did believe these things, well why on earth did you lay in that bed that morning and go along with everything that I was saying?" he asks, pointing towards my bedroom with pain evident in his eyes. 

I take a second to think about what I want to say, inhaling deeply as I do so, not wanting to rush into words like I have done before. 

"I didn't think that way about you Theo. Not deep down, and certainly not that morning. And I don't even think it now after everything, even if it would be the easiest thing to do so I could justify my actions," I explain, having learned about my own faults in all this reflection. "Maybe I questioned it once when I needed something to hide behind but as I got to know more and more about you— more than I ever expected I would— I well and truly confirmed that it wasn't true. I might hate both of our actions on that Sunday two weeks ago but I can't lie and say those things that I said about you are true, even in my hurt."

"But you were embarrassed about what was happening between us, were you not? That's the reason you wrote that damn article, wasn't it?" he continues to prod. "I mean, why else didn't you tell anyone about what was going on between us? You were embarrassed by what had been going on between us— whether it was because of everything with Lexi or because of what everyone had said about me— and you shared those thoughts for the whole world to see to make sure everyone thought the same was as you; to show you were at least self aware."

"That's not what it was like Theo," I argue, noticing the volume of our voices lifting gradually as we both get more invested in the conversation or, more accurately, our trials. "Look Theo, you could be standing in front of me and telling me that I'm the only girl for you, that you are ready to commit, or that there's nothing between you and Lexi. But, for some reason my brain is messed up and hardwired to think the opposite. It's natural instinct for the voice inside my head to creep out and tell me, Ella there's something you're missing, there's some ulterior motive or it's not going to last long."

"And I am in no way saying that is your problem," I continue. "Maybe that's just how I will always be, maybe it's how I'm biologically composed, or maybe life has just made me that way. That article was just a glimpse into all those chaotic thoughts going back and forth in my head— it was me doubting myself, reasoning with myself, rationalising, I don't even know. I don't want it to be that way and I really do want to do whatever I can to make that change so I am sorry that you got hurt in the cross hairs. Whatever happened in the end, I do regret how that made you feel."

He nods, taking in the barrage of words that I had sent this way. He takes his time to consider my defence, weighing my words, and what is only seconds feels like minutes sitting there before him. 

"I guess, the reason I am asking you all of this is so that I can know and I can finally settle if you actually feel any differently about me . . . about everything that was done and said . That two weeks on, even with all the space and frustration that you might feel towards me right now, you can confidently say that you don't think about me the way that you had conveyed in the article."

"Theo, I don't know how many different ways I can say it. Yes, of course I feel differently. I told you that two weeks ago and I can tell you a million times more, but if you didn't believe me then why would you want to believe me now? Why are you here Theo if you want believe me no matter what I say? I know you might need this closure but if you're just going to keep making me repeat myself to no cause then I don't know what the point of continuing this conversation is other than continuing to reopen old wounds," I question, not knowing how much more of this broken record I can take. 

How long will it be before the record player erupts into a vicious fire from running the same tape over and over again?

"Ella I—"

 "God, I know that everything that comes out of my mouth right now is going to sound like excuses but I'm genuinely just trying to explain myself so you can walk away from this feeling okay despite everything I've done," I cut him off, desperately needing to get this last explanation out before he proceeds to shut things down. 

"I don't let people in Theo, because people can suck. People can really fucking suck. They let you down, they disappoint you, they hurt you, they abandon you. But sometimes they're also pretty damn great. They make you feel loved, they bring joy to your life, they ignite a hunger for life in you. I've only let in a few people in my life for a very long time now and I think I've conditioned myself to see red flags in everyone to keep it that way; to keep any possible hurt away. In seeking those red flags out I showed mine. I'm definitely not perfect but I hope that you can look past my faults and move forward without holding it against me for too long."

I exhale as I finally get all the words out, my chest rising up and down rapidly as I attempt to catch my breath. Now that I have finally finished my case I remain silent for a few moments to show that I am truly done and to let Theo take the stage finally to make closing remarks. 

"Ella, I'm not here to attack you or pointlessly digging things up," he explains, reassuring me that maybe we can avoid the fire. "I asked you if you feel differently about what you wrote about me but I was also asking if you feel differently about what happened that day two weeks ago. Look, I probably should have said it better — I am asking if you feel any differently about the decision we came to at the end of that day? The decision to walk away."

Do I think differently about walking away? 

Considering how our last conversation had unfolded and the way this conversation was going I didn't think he'd be asking that question. I just thought he was here to determine the sincerity of  my words so that he would not continue eating himself up about them. I didn't think he was here to question everything we had decided on following those words. 

I don't know what to say in response. 

"Because I do Ella," he continues, adding four words to this topic that contribute no greater ease to my feelings or confusion in this moment. "I won't lie, even after Jess visited me I stood by my decision to step away from everything because the hurt was the first thing that flooded through me when I thought of us. But then, when I thought I had settled on my decision I let the reality of that decision truly sink in. That's when I had to acknowledge what choosing life without you was like. I realised that even considering that and letting all the what ifs inside my head simmer hurt so much more than whatever had happened or whatever was said. I don't want to sit there one day asking myself what if we had just been more honest with each other? What if I had given one more chance to something that was like nothing else I had ever experienced?"

Surely he wasn't actually saying all of this? Surely he wasn't really using the phrase "one more chance"?

His tone is much more hushed now and I can see now how his pupils have dilated as his leans forward anxiously. This is sincere, he really means it. 

But I can't just allow myself to be caught up in it so easily. Sure, everything he is saying sounds idyllic, but that was also how everything had felt with him when things were good and we both know how that ended up. It is probably those happier times I am thinking of that are flooding his brain and memories for the moment, suppressing the harsher ones. 

"Theo, life is a whole lot of ifs. What if my mother had never left? What if I had never moved to Australia? What if I hadn't returned and didn't end things with my ex? I could go on and on. You learn to get used to them and you learn that these things happened for a reason," I explain.

He visibly withdraws, lifting his elbows off of his thighs and leaning back against the metal railing behind him to gain some distance from me and my response. 

"So, you don't regret it? You don't find yourself sitting here with an innate need for this other being to be near you, tirelessly questioning if you could obtain everything you could both want if you just tried things differently this time.?

I let myself truly comprehend what he has just said. If there was any doubt of his intentions for this conversation, for this visit, well they have been truly quashed now. 

I had been running over and over again the possibility of seeing him again and what I would say and yet here I am speechless even after thinking I had prepared for everything that could happen. Here I am relying purely on my gut feeling to deliver to him an answer. 

"Theo, I don't need a boyfriend or need you in my life. I don't need to have some sort of bullshit happily ever after. That's the reality. I'm wired in a way where I don't need much to survive," I explain, seeing his shoulders drop more and more with each word. 

"But that does not mean that I don't want it — that I don't want more than to just survive, that I didn't . . . that I don't want you." I pause a moment, hoping those words can sink in for him. "Look, I'll figure it out. I'll find a way like I always have in the past. I could probably be perfectly happy alone for the rest of my life. But if instead you want to ask me if I still want you to be in my life; to bring me joy