The Space Between Us (38 page)

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Authors: Anie Michaels

BOOK: The Space Between Us
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   I looked back at Charlie and her face was pointed towards the floor. 

   “How does it feel?  You meant enough to her that she branded your name along her ribs, but not enough that she could admit you were alive.  What a strange lie to tell the man you were sleeping with.”

   I watched as she lifted her face to look at me, not denying anything, not telling me that he was lying.  She looked guilty.  Tears streamed down her face, her mascara created black streaks along her cheeks, and her eyes drowned in sadness.  But she wasn’t denying it.

   “You told him I was dead?”

   “Asher, please, let me explain,” she begged.  Still not a denial.

   “
Explain?  I’m not sure that needs an explanation.”  I sounded calm.  Even to me, my voice came across as smooth and even.  Inside, however, inside my body it felt like my organs were being compressed.  There wasn’t enough room within me to contain the pain that was blossoming inside.  Before I even realized what was happening, I was turning from her, heading towards the exit.  I never wanted to imagine a scenario when I was turning away from her, but at that moment, I couldn’t be next to her anymore.

   “Asher, wait.”  I heard her heels clicking against the
floor and knew she followed me.  “Asher!”  She followed me all the way onto the street and I kept marching, not really knowing where I was headed.  “Please, listen to me.”  Finally, the pain had made way for anger and I turned around to confront her.

   “There is nothing,
nothing
, in this world that could compel me to tell one single person that you were dead.  Is that how you thought of me?  Of us?  For the last thirteen years you wished I was dead?”  My hand came up to my forehead, rubbing, trying to ease the headache that had built there, the throbbing causing my eyes to strain in discomfort.

   “No, Asher, no.
”  She took a step closer to me and I countered with another step backwards.  I could see the hurt in her eyes.  “I told him my childhood friend had died because, at the time, I thought that was the easiest explanation.”

   “So you never told him about us?”

   She shook her head.  I felt a cracking in my chest as if I was being torn open by her words.

   “What would have been so difficult to explain about having an ex-boyfriend?” 

   “It’s not that simple,” she pleaded.  “You wouldn’t understand.”

   “Make me understand!” I screamed.  I turned away from her as she flinched.  I was going to lose my temper and I didn’t want to be near her when it happened.  My head was in my hands and I knelt down, bending my knees and resting my elbows upon them.  “Tell me, please.”

   “There was no way to explain to David that I could never love him, that I could never fully be with him, because I was still in love with the man whose name was permanently drawn on my skin.”  She sniffled, and under all the pain and heartache, it tore at me that she was crying.  A part of me still wanted to keep her from pain.  “I couldn’t let you go, but I couldn’t move on either. The only way was to pretend, to make up a reality where my sadness, my inability to give him everything, made sense.”

   “So I was dead.  Did anyone in your new life know about me?  Did you tell him about the babies?”

   She shook her head, crying.

   I started walking away.  I couldn’t get away fast enough.  I was angry, and hurt, and so very close to a nervous breakdown.  I felt her hands grip my shoulders; her tiny, undernourished arms, trying to pull me back to her.

   “Don’t,” was all I said as I continued to walk, while she tried desperately to hold on to me.

   “You can’t leave like this, Asher.  You can’t,” she wailed.  I spun around on her and my hands came to grasp her face.  I wasn’t violent, but I was forceful.

   “You don’t get to keep me, Charlie.  You can’t kill me one day and love me the next.  It isn’t possible.”

   “I never stopped lovi
ng you!”  Her tears ran into and over my hand.

   “You’re mistaken. 
I
never stopped loving
you
.  I never told anyone you were dead.  I never lied about something so sacred and special to me in order to make myself feel better.  I loved you, God damn it!  I can’t fault you for not telling anyone about the miscarriage.  That’s personal, private.  But I can’t just move past this.  I can’t
pretend
you didn’t wish me dead for thirteen years.”  I still held her face in my hands, my eyes roaming over her features.  She was so beautiful and for the last few weeks I had imagined that my life, my future, laid with her.  I was angry.  I was hurt.  But more than any of that, more than those emotions that can come and go at the drop of a hat, I was shocked.  I didn’t recognize her anymore.  She wasn’t the same person I had been in love with all of my life.  “I have to go.”  I dropped my hands and took a step away from her.  I turned my back on her and I walked away – from everything.

   I heard her cry out, and then I heard what I thought was her falling to the ground.  But I didn’t look back.  I couldn’t.  There was no way to guarantee myself that I wouldn’t go running back to her if I saw her in pain. I would want to fix her.  I always had.
  This time, she would need to fix herself.

 

Chapter Eighteen

Asher

   A few weeks passed.  When I left New York, I left in a tuxedo.  I went straight from my fight with Charlie to the airport.  I made it home and did my best to try and move on with my life.  It was like starting over without her all over again, only this time, I didn’t have this looming feeling of guilt keeping me from remembering the good memories.  All I had was the dark pressure expanding within me, reminding me that for all those years, she wished me away.  She regretted what we had so much, she didn’t even want me breathing.

   Perhaps the hardest part was thi
nking about the night before I left.  Those few hours we had together where I allowed myself to imagine what would come next.  When I imagined everything I had within me and how much I wanted to give it to her, how much I wanted to share it with her.

   My phone rang and I grumbled.  I didn’t like the interruptions.  I had thrown myself into my work in an effort at distraction.  I saw that Reeve was calling and grumbled even more.

   “What do you want?”  I answered, trying to sound just as annoyed as I actually was.

   “That was a very rude way to answer your phone,” she said snidely.

   “Good, my intended tone came across just as I’d hoped it would.”

   “You’re an asshole when you’re heartbroken.”

   “What is it that you want, Reeve?  Don’t you have a husband to annoy?”

   “I was driving past Mr. Mc
Bride’s house a few minutes ago and I saw some strange men looking in the windows.  I would have stopped, but I’ve got the kids with me and I didn’t feel safe.  Do you think you could go over there and see if anything looks strange?”

   “Yeah, of course,” I felt like an ass for being rude to her.  Of course I didn’t want her confronting homeless squatters with her kids.
  “Sorry, Reeve.  I’m not always trying to be an asshole.”

   “I know.  You’re sad.  I get it.”  All I could do was sigh in response because she was right.  I was sad.

   “What did the men look like?”

   “The homeless squatters?”  She sounded confused.

   “Yeah, them.”

   “They looked like homeless squatters, you jackass.”  At least she was laughing when she swore at me this time.

   “Ok.  I’ll go and take a look in a little bit.  I still have a few things to finish up here.”

   “Asher, I don’t think it’s a good idea to go after dark.  What if they’re dangerous?”

   “The homeless squatters?”  I spat her words back at her with a smirk on my face.

   “I’m not talking to you anymore.”

   “Promise?”

   “Watch yourself.  I might be your only friend.”

   “You might have a point.”

   “Don’t wait too long, Asher.  You might miss it.”
  These last words sounded important, wise almost.

   “Ok… I’ll leave soon.”

   “Good. You work too much anyway.”  And she was back.

   I found myself turning ont
o the street I avoided for weeks.  My mom tried to get me to come over for dinner multiple times but I couldn’t bring myself to go there.  I didn’t want to see the house where we shared so many things together.  But there I was, pulling around the corner, straining to see the house she’d moved into so long ago.  The girl with the dark hair who stole my heart.

   As I drove closer
, I didn’t see any homeless men milling around.  Nothing looked out of place except for the paper that was on the door.  Until Charlie made arrangements to sell the house, all communication regarding it was supposed to come to my office, handled by Phil.  I rolled my eyes wondering what Phil had fucked up.  I pulled in to the driveway and parked my car.  I made it to the door and pulled the paper down, flipped it over, and began to read.

  
Dear Asher,

Don’t crumple the paper up and throw it away, at least, not until you’ve read it.  I know you’re angry at me and I know you have every right to be.  All I am asking is for the opportunity to explain myself.  I need to explain better than I did that night.  Please.  Meet me at the swing set.

   Love,

   Charlie

   My heart pumped rapidly and my hands sweated.  I hadn’t expected to hear from her, and I definitely didn’t expect her to be here.  I thought she would become a ghost again, a figment of my desires.  Despite everything that had happened between us, I couldn’t change the one thing about me that would always be true; I couldn’t stay away from her if she needed me. 

   I turned and began jogging through the neighborhood, weaving through cars and mailboxes, tak
ing the shortest route that we carved out some twenty years previous.  The paper became crumpled in my hand, but I never let it go; I carried it with me.  I came up to the alley, the cut-through that led from the neighborhood to the school yard. 

   The sun began
to set so the alley was veiled by shadows.  I could almost see our pre-teen selves walking under the tree canopy, talking about school, or a movie we wanted to see, or our plans for the weekend.  Then I pictured us at sixteen, walking hand-in-hand to the school to steal moments alone, to escape the fatherly watch of Charles, to explore each other.  I ran out the other side of the alley, thinking maybe I’d catch a glimpse of her on the swings, but I saw no one.

 
Disappointment shot through me and I cursed myself for the emotion.  I should be disappointed she wasn’t there.  I shouldn’t
want
to see her.  But I did and it was useless to deny it.  I stopped jogging and walked the rest of the way to the swings.  My heartbeat sped up again when I saw the note taped to one of the swings.  I picked it up and eagerly opened it.

  
My Asher,

I’m so glad you’re here.  I’m still waiting for you, but you’ll have to travel a little farther to get to me.  I promise though – it will be worth it.

Meet me where you first told me you loved me.

Xoxo,

   Charlie

   The bridge.  The stream.  I ran there
, jogging wouldn’t get me there fast enough.  Halfway through the parking lot of the school, I ditched my suit jacket, throwing it down on the ground, thinking I would come back for it later.  It took me less than five minutes to run to the park and I didn’t stop until I made it to the bridge.  It was getting darker, the sun set, and I squinted into the dusk and tried to find her.  She wasn’t waiting on the bridge, but she wouldn’t be.  I told her I loved her under the bridge, pressing her up against the support beam, holding her face in my hands.  I walked down the bank to the small creek and followed it under the bridge.  There sat another note for me.

  
Dear Love,

   Forgive me, I’m not waiting here for you.  But this is where it all started.  Those fall days spent here with you, catching fish, building a friendship that saved me.  I remember us here.  All the time, Asher.  I think about you all the time.

   Being with David was hard for me.  I never loved him.  I stayed with him to make myself feel a little bit normal.  Normal women didn’t cry every day for their babies.  They didn’t wear a ring their ex-boyfriend gave them only to remind them of a love they’d never get over.

   I didn’t lie to David because
I wished you were dead.  I told him that lie because I couldn’t live with the truth.  I would have taken our love to the grave, Asher.  It was sacred to me and no one needed to know about it.  If I spoke about it, the loss felt more real.  I guess I don’t expect you to understand why I lied. I just want you to understand it
was
a lie, not how I truly felt, not how I truly feel.  Was it the right decision?  Probably not.  But it was the best choice I could make at the time.  I’m not the same girl I was five years ago, not even the same person I was five months ago.

   You changed me Asher.  You gave
me the opportunity to forgive myself, to love myself, to accept that things happen for no reason at all, and it’s no one’s fault.  I don’t have to hide behind my sadness anymore, because it isn’t shameful.  I lost a pregnancy, our babies, but it wasn’t my fault.  I ran from you in college because I couldn’t handle everything all at once.  But I’m not running anymore, Asher.  I’m here – waiting for you.

   All of a sudden this seems silly.  There’s a very good chance that you read my letter at the house and drove away.  I wouldn’t blame you if that was your choice.  But I hope, so much, that you’re reading this letter.  And I hope you’ll come and find me in the very spot where you asked me to be with you.
  The first time.

   I looked around frantically, hop
ing to see her.  I breathed quickly, my heart beating out of my chest.  I climbed back up the bank and followed the path around the park.  When I saw the gazebo the first thing I noticed was that it was lit up. There were string lights hanging from the top, but as I got closer I noticed the entire interior was filled with candles.  The flickering light of the flames made an orange haze float out from the gazebo and reflect off the water.

   The candlelight also illuminated the hundreds of yellow roses that filled the space surrounding Charlie.

   She wore a white dress and I was reminded of the day when I was fifteen when I first kissed her.  The candles sent light flickering over her, making her dress dance in the light, her hair shining and flowing down to her waist.

   She smiled when she saw me and her hands came to cover her mouth.  Tears came from her eyes and I knew she was happy.
  Happy to see me.  Happy that I’d followed the trail, read the letters, and came to her.

  I had never been happier.  She came back to me and in the end that was all I ever really wanted from her.  For her to accept us both, for all our flaws, and love us anyway.  Nothing would have ever worked between us u
ntil she could do that. And her standing here, waiting for me, was the best apology I ever received. 

   I didn’t stop running until I was close enough to hold her in my arms.  I picked her up and brought my lips
to hers, kissing her like I wanted to for thirteen years – with absolutely nothing between us – no lies, no misunderstandings, no blame and no guilt.  From now on, the space between us would be filled with love.

   “Are you really here?”  She asked against my mouth.  I pulled away and brushed her hair away from her face.

   “I’ve always been here, Bit.  I was just waiting for you.”

   She brought her hands to my face and pressed her lips to mine.

   This was a hello kiss. This hello kiss was perfect.  A greeting.  A beginning.  Something new.

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