He wants to be my friend again. I was afraid he didn’t care about our friendship anymore, that he only wanted to talk to me to establish a civil relationship because of Steven.
"Why did you come here hoping to see me if you're not ready to talk about it?"
"Can we be friends again?" he asks. There’s hope in his tone of voice.
"Hm..." I murmur.
He watches me carefully. "Hm? You don't want to?"
I shrug my shoulders. "It's not that. It's just that—we can't."
His expression turns grim. He keeps torturing his fingers as he moves his leg up and down. "Why not? Nova, we're both suffering."
It breaks my heart to see that the reason for his anxiety is me. I never wanted to be. I just wish I could hug him and tell him that I don't care about the past, that we can pretend the last years never existed, as well as the last year of high school. Especially that year.
"You were the one who left," I remind him.
Vincent rubs his temples, searching for the right words. "Yes! I know! I regret it every day, but I did it for—" The words die in his throat.
I cross my arms over my chest. "For?"
"I can't do this," he murmurs.
I scoot closer and I place a hand on his knee. The movement of his leg slows a little at a time until he stops shaking altogether. "I'm not trying to force you to talk about it—it's just that it's been four years and we can't go back to being friends like nothing happened. It doesn't work like that. I don't know anything aboutyou anymore. What you've been doing all these years. I can't be your friend again if we don't face what separated us. I need it. I need you to trust me again so I can trust you like before. We know what happened. I just want us to talk about it openly so we can put it aside."
"I don't—I'm afraid. I don't..."
I take his hands in mine. "You’re my best friend, Cooper."
"And you're my best friend, Marshall."
"Yes... Yes, I am. So let's talk about it. Let's put an end on it. Nothing will change between us. It will always be you and me."
"I know, but..." He closes his eyes, sighing. "I need time. I'm starting to go to Dr. Jenkins again, and I think it will help. I just need some time, okay?"
I smile. I’m so happy that he has resumed sessions with his psychotherapist. Dr. Jenkins has always taken care of Vincent since Chris and Daniel adopted him, and when I learned of his move to Seattle, one of my biggest fears was just knowing that he would have to stop his therapy.
Talking to Dr. Jenkins was always good for him. They had regular appointments every Friday afternoon.
I squeeze his hand, stroking the back of it with my thumb. "We'll talk about it the moment you feel safe."
"I always feel safe with you," he retorts in a firm tone, as if trying to convince me of his words.
I smile. "I know."
"I really want to talk about it. I want to make things right," he continues.
I rest my head on his shoulder. He gasps at first; however, then his body relaxes at my touch.
"I know that, too. I want that too."
"So what?" he whispers, encircling my shoulders with his arm.
Is it strange if I now feel as if nothing has changed between us? As if the giant elephant in the room no longer exists? Yet it is here and will not disappear anytime soon.
"I'm just afraid you might run away again. I don't think I can handle another... another heartbreak like that," I murmur, drawing imaginary circles in the palm of his hand.
He pulls me close to his side. "I promise we'll talk about it. I swear. Just don't—I know I'm a hypocrite for asking, but don't push me away now. I know I was the first to do it, and right now I can understand at least part of all the hurt I've done to you. I am sorry. I swear. I’ll give you your space and we can take it easy. I know I've been a big bastard."
