I scolded myself a little bit, reminding myself that it was still just common courtesy and good manners for LeCharles to show up when he said he would.
Finally, the distant rumble of a lone motorcycle reached my ears. I perked up as I saw the sole headlight of a motorcycle pass by Joe’s Java, park, and shut off. I sat up in my seat, arched my back, and put on a nervous smile. Although I was going to be apologetic, I hoped that this would at least be a pleasant experience for all sides.
I stood up, hoping that I’d get a chance to hug him. When he walked in, he looked every part the sexy hunk that I remembered him. He was wearing the same cut that Brian had worn two days before, and he looked like he had grown his facial hair out a bit. He already looked like he was in his mid-thirties without facial hair, and now, he just looked even more rugged, grizzled, and wise.
“Hey,” I said.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, but he didn’t sound particularly apologetic about it. “Club meeting ran late.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” I said, even though it really wasn’t. “What did you all talk about?”
He scoffed at me as he took a seat abruptly, giving me no chance to hug him or even touch him.
“Club business stays in-house,” he said. “I wouldn’t tell you even if I liked you.”
Ouch. Okay, fair.
“Well, LeCharles, I know you have good reason to not like me.”
I guess we should just get right to it.
“But I just want you to know how sorry I am for everything that happened, especially at the end of our relationship.”
LeCharles leaned back in his chair, folded his arms, and chewed some gum as he listened to me speak. I felt very much like I was being judged heavily, and I had to remind myself to be apologetic but not groveling. I’d screwed up, but he had to play his part and forgive me. Otherwise...
If it comes to it, just walk away, wish him well, and don’t ever look back. You will have done everything you possibly could have to make it work.
If only it were that easy, though.
“I was under so much stress, but that is no excuse for what I did to you,” I said. “I was a bitch to you. I was terrible to you. I... yeah. I don’t know how else to say it. I’m sorry.”
LeCharles unfolded his arms and put his hand on his thighs, looking at me for a long time. A part of me had the feeling that he didn’t want to be as distant as he was acting, that he actually wanted to let himself be close. He was probably afraid of what would happen if he did that, and who could blame him?
“I appreciate the apology,” he said, though he didn’t look me in the eye when he said it, as if doing so would suddenly mean that he loved me. “But I want to know why you acted that way. Your apology doesn’t mean shit if I don’t know what, exactly, you’re apologizing for. Otherwise, you’re just placating me, not actually meaning anything.”
LeCharles sounded torn, like he both wanted to hurt me and give me a chance to make things right. I did not envy his position, but I did want to fully bring out the side of him that wanted to make things right, even if it came at the cost of a lot of pain and heartache.
“Well, at the time we were dating, I was trying to get into med school. You remember that, right?”
“How could I forget,” he said, sounding more menacing than empathizing.
“The MCAT just... it crushed me, LeCharles. And I didn’t know how to handle it. I was getting frustrated with my practice tests. I felt like I wasn’t good enough, no matter what I did. And then, on top of that, I was dealing with the diagnosis of my father’s lung cancer. That was a real sucker punch, especially since I’d told him forever to quit smoking.”
Recounting this story wasn’t the kind of thing that made me emotional, because it had happened so long ago, but it did remind me of how just alone I was feeling these days. Was it any small wonder that no matter how I told myself to stand strong before my ex, I found myself cowering and begging for his grace when there was literally no one else in this world to share my story with?
“So what happened was when I saw you, I was an utter ball of stress. Things that I would normally let just slide under the table suddenly became difficult to figure out, and I reacted inappropriately. I recognize now that I was terrible at handling it, but I didn’t know any better back then. And... ”
At some point, I was going to call him out for his role in the breakup. But it didn’t feel like I was quite at that point in the conversation.
“It just became the sort of thing where neither of us was really listening to the other. And by the time we broke up, I think it had already been a good couple of months where I barely heard you. I’d hear you, but I had my own things to say. That’s not how good relationships work, I know. I know I screwed up.”
But now’s the point where you have to call him out for his part. This wasn’t you being Satan and him being Jesus.
And if he sees it that way, then he’s not the man you thought he was.
“I... LeCharles, let me ask you something.”
“Hmm,” he said, not changing expression.
