Dear Tabitha (4 page)

Stumbling, she backs away, her face pales, and she gasps for air. She glances down at my fists, and I realize that I look menacing right now. Fuck. I’m tense, and my hands are clenched.

“Wait, Tabs…” I stammer, and she looks as if she’s about to have a full on panic attack. I didn’t mean for this to happen, did I?

She retreats further into her apartment, clutching her chest and throat. Shit, she looks like she’s about to pass out.

I rush into the room after her as she turns toward the bathroom. She trips, but recovers and starts to run faster. She gasps for air as she tries to get away from me. Fuck, again.

She reaches the bathroom just as I grab her arm.

“No!” She screams and tries to jerk her arm away from me.

What does she think I’m going to do to her? I gasp, and let go of her as I realize she thinks I’m going to hurt her. Oh my god. What the hell am I doing? Did I really make her scared of me all of those years ago?

I look down at my trembling hands, shake my head, and turn away. I would never hurt her. Ever. I did this. I put that terrified look into her eyes. I’m sickened by myself.

She slams the bathroom door, and I flinch as the lock engages. My chest tightens, and now I’m the one gasping for air. I walk slowly backwards into the living room, until my legs hit the couch. I fall onto it clumsily, stunned by what just happened.

I struggle to get a grip on myself, so I place my head in my hands and take deep breaths. I repeat this until I step off the ledge I just walked up to. I really didn’t want to scare her, or hurt her in any way. But I’ve managed to do both. Soft sobs coming from behind the bathroom door leave me frozen in place on the couch. My heart furiously pounds and I suddenly feel lightheaded and disgusted with myself. What did I think I was going to accomplish by coming here? Certainly not this.

This is so much worse than I anticipated. She’s terrified and locked herself behind that door. She’s afraid of me. Oh my God, I need to fix this.

I calm myself down again by pushing my hands through my hair and then cradling my head so that I can massage my temples to relieve the massive tension there. Why can’t I get enough air?

What was I trying to accomplish by coming here? When I first laid eyes on her as she opened the door, the years apart melted away. Some of the pain even faded. She stood in front of me again, looking like she did in my dreams and I almost forgot about Seth.

This is just an epic fail. Now I’m a mess, and need to escape. I shouldn’t be here at all. I need to pretend that this never happened, but I can’t leave her like this. What if her panic attack causes her to pass out? What if she needs my help? I did this to her. I need to fix it.

The water turns on in the bathroom. Good, she’s at least still conscious. When it stops, I hear her tentative voice. “Alex?”

I stand up, and slowly walk toward the bathroom. “Tabs, I’m here. God. I’m not going to hurt you. Please…” I say as I reach toward the door.

“Why are you here?” Her voice falters through the still-locked door.

“I – I don’t know.” I answer her truthfully. I want to tell her so much more, but my mind races in jumbled pieces. “Are you okay?” I ask softly, trying not to startle or upset her any more.

Silence and muffled sobs answer my question. She struggles to compose herself, perhaps hoping that I’ll leave.

I should go. But I can’t. Not yet.

After several long minutes where I hold my breath waiting for her next move, the lock unlatches and the door slowly creeps open. She hesitates, then steps out of the bathroom. Her clasped, wringing hands show me she’s nervous and upset. In the past, I always grabbed her hands and massaged them when she got like this. Sometimes I would playfully sit on them or put them between my knees. I used to be able to make her pain and nervousness go away. I have the sudden urge to grab her hands and soothe her. But I can’t. I don’t have the right.

We stare into each other’s eyes, and God, hers no longer show terror, but pure sorrow. Tears streak her ashen face and her swollen lips still quiver.

She looks so beautiful. I want to kiss away her tears and sadness, to pull her face close, run my thumbs along her lips, and then devour them, tug them into mine.

My urge to comfort her suddenly turns to a deep need. Desire. She was mine once, and my soul suddenly feels as if she still is. My heart pounds in my chest for this girl who was my everything.

Our eyes remain locked on each other, and I wonder if she feels the same intense pull as I do.

“Why? How – how did you find me?” she murmurs as she looks away. Her eyes dart around the room, planning her escape route as if she expects me to come after her again.

“Kirsten,” I answer. “I saw her at the bookstore today, and she gave me this.” I pull the crumpled piece of paper from my pocket and extend my hand to her.

She steps forward and takes it from my outstretched hand. Our fingers brush and I have to force myself not to pull her into my arms where she belongs. She jerks her hand away. Did she feel it, too?

She opens the paper and sees her address. Her eyes fill with confusion.

“Why are you here?” she asks. “To find me?” She blinks and tilts her head in disbelief.

“I don’t know, Tabs.” I’m not sure what I thought I would accomplish by seeing her. I don’t want her to feel pain. To cause her pain.

And now, I don’t want this space between us. I need to feel her breath on my skin. Her warmth.

I stay firmly planted in place as I fight the urge to go to her.

“You must know, Alex. You came here. Tell me. Why are you here?” Her voice raises in anger. “Why?” Her soft, tender eyes harden. Her brown eyes almost turn black. This Tabitha is different from the one I left a few years ago.

“Tabs.”

She affects me in a way I never would have imagined. I don’t know what to say to her. My whole reason for being here disappears.

“Dammit, Alex! Why? You left two and a half years ago! Why are you here now?”

Suddenly I remember why I’m here. I need to know, have to know, if and how she’s been able to move on. Because I’ve been stuck and miserable for two and a half years. “Tabby, you know why I left you. Where is he?” My anger surfaces as I glance around for any indication that Seth lives here with her.

“Alex, oh my God. Are you fucking kidding me? You came back here to remind me what I did to you?” She yells and stalks toward me, waving the paper in my face. “That’s not fair, and you know it. Just - just get the fuck out. You can’t do this to me. I don’t deserve this anymore. You left. You destroyed me. But now, I’m over it. I’ve moved on.”

I’ve never seen her like this. She’s angry and so sure of herself. So capable of this type of control. She looks like she’s about to pummel me and I’m strangely happy to see this.

“Tabs…” I start to say.

“No! You don’t have the right, Alex. No right! I’m not your ‘Tabs’ anymore, and I haven’t been for a long time. You’re not allowed to call me that. To call me anything! Get. The. Fuck. Out!”

Holy shit. Holy shit. What have I done? She’s right, I don’t have the right. She isn’t mine anymore. She’s
his
and I should have never come here. I feel exactly like I did a few years ago when I said goodbye to her. Lost and alone. Again.

Her eyes blaze with fury. I need to leave, like right now. I stand and walk toward the door. But something causes me to stop, nags at me. I need to know this one thing.

I turn around, and she stops in her tracks. She was following me to the door, probably to lock it after I left.

“Tabby.” The soft toned word coming from my mouth surprises her but I continue. “Are you with him? Are you married?” I really don’t want to know the answer, but I need to.

The fire leaves her eyes and she looks confused.

“What?” She leans her head to the side.

“Seth. Are you and him together? Married?” I brace myself against the wall, preparing for her response. Ready to have the wind knocked out of me.

She looks at me and she laughs. A bitter laugh. “Married? Are you fucking kidding me? No, Alex, I’m not married.” She shakes her head in disbelief.

Okay, I guess that’s good, and I’m suddenly hopeful. I want to smile, but I’m afraid to set her off. She’s glaring at me and I realize that I need to know more.

“Where is he? Are you still with him?”

Please don’t let them be together.

“No, Alex! Is that what you want to hear? To make sure that I’m fucking miserable without either one of you in my life? No. I’m not with him. I’m not with anyone. I have my shit together now, and for once in my miserable existence, I’m happy.” She huffs and throws herself onto the couch. “I’m happy. I’m alone but I’m happy. But I bet you didn’t want to hear that.”

Relief floods my chest. I’m selfishly thankful that Seth is out of the picture.

“Oh,” I say. Well, shit. She has me figured out, and I feel like a royal douche.

“No, that’s not what –,” I stammer, and she interrupts me.

“Alex.” She raises the paper with her address, balls it up, and throws it at me. “You. Have. No. Right.”

She’s right. But instead of walking out the door, I turn and sit down in the chair across from her.

“Tabby, I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t belong here,” I say. But I want to say so much more. I want to tell her that I was wrong. That I never should have left. That I should have stayed and tried to understand what happened. I should have given her the benefit of the doubt. I should have fought for her like she deserved. She had my heart and I never should have ripped hers to shreds.

She sits up straight with a determined look on her face. “And, by the way, you owe me an explanation.”

Wait. What? An explanation? Now I’m confused.

“What are you talking about?” I ask her.

“You owe me an explanation. Why didn’t you ever return my phone call?” She glares into my eyes.

What is she talking about? Phone call? I never heard from her after I left. I didn’t want to hear from her, but I certainly never got a phone call or a message from her.

“Tab-“ I stop myself from using my pet name for her. “I never received a phone call. You never called me. I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “Whatever, Alex. I called you about two months after you left. I needed to talk to you. Some girl answered your phone and told me that you were ‘incapacitated’.” She huffs and looks disgusted.

Who could she be talking about? What girl would have answered my phone? My confusion grows and I shake my head.

Feeling the need to defend myself, I say, “Listen, I don’t remember much about the last few years, much less the few months right after I left. If someone else answered my phone, I never got the message.” I try to think who it could have been. I’m upset that I missed the opportunity to talk to her. Maybe she called to apologize and make things right. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

Panic rises in her face again and she starts to stammer. “Nothing. I – I don’t remember. It was a long time ago. I just don’t know.” Her eyes flit all over the room, and she starts to wring her hands again.

I should drop this now before she freaks out again. I have the urge again to grab hold of her and never let go. I think I will always want to take away her pain and anxiety.

“Okay. No big deal. But you should know that I never got a message that you called," I say as sincerely as I can.

She takes a deep breath and looks back into my eyes. She’s uncomfortable, I can tell. “Well, that explains it then, doesn’t it?” she says coldly. “Someone answered your phone and didn’t tell you. End of story.”

She’s so quick to end this discussion topic and I need to know why. But I don’t want to push her since we are actually getting somewhere right now. At least I am.

“Right. End of story,” I say.

She relaxes into the couch and her eyes soften.

“Why are you really here, Alex? Why?” She shakes her head in disbelief.

I need to tell her that I originally sought her out to prolong her misery, hoping that she was as fucked up as I am. But I can’t do that to her. She really seems different. Better. I can’t ruin her, as much as I wanted to this morning.

“I just wanted to see you. To see for myself if you had truly moved on … from me.”

Her eyes glisten and a single tear slides down her cheek. “Alex. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what you want to hear. I’m better. I’ve moved on with my life. I’m … happy. Or at least I was.” She blinks and looks away.

I feel terrible about this entire scene and wish that it could have started and ended differently.

“I’m sorry that I came here today. I clearly disrupted your happiness. I didn’t mean to.” I start to stand up. I need to get out of here before I press her against the wall and make her mine all over again.

I want to pull her to me and inhale her scent. Jesus, I just need her.

“Wait. Um. What’s next, Alex?” she asks softly.

I freeze as I hover over the chair and slowly sit back down. “I don’t know. I just – I just wanted to see you, and well, that’s it.” My emotions are all over the place, and I can’t get my thoughts out. I’m confused that she seems to be okay. Better than me. I’ve thought about her constantly, about her and Seth, and pictured them with a house, SUV, dog, and two kids. Jealous that she was able to move on when I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Shit.

“I don’t know.” I lean forward and place my face into my hands.

“We don’t need to know what’s next, I guess,” she says. “We can just continue on our separate paths.” She looks sad as she says this, causing my chest to tighten. “There isn’t anything really to discuss, is there?”

There isn’t? I think there is a lot to discuss. Over two years worth of things to catch up on. But I respond, “No I guess not.” Is this the right answer?

I start to fill the silence with a lame explanation as to why I’m even here right now. “Epic Fail is on a creative break. We’re all exhausted and trying to take some time to regroup. I’ll be in Philly for the next few months, so maybe I’ll see you around?” I stand up and walk toward the door, determined to leave this time.