Oh,Leo, I think sadly.
I’ve been climbing the walls all day, absolutely beside myself.
On the one hand, the thought of losing the amazing, life altering, foundation-of-my-life friendship I have with him is paralysing me with horror. He’s not just my boss, he’s…
More.
Howmuchmore? Because on the other hand, I can’t deny that every cell in my body rebelled when he told me he knew I didn’t feel the same way.
So I can’t honestly say there’s nothing there on my end.
Leo has been a constant, someone I emotionally rely upon more than I ever realised. But can I look myself in the mirror and say I’ve never felt a little thrill sometimes when I’ve gotten a little flirty with him? Never gone home and found that I was wetter between my legs than I knew playful banter could cause?I always wrote it off, pushed it out of my mind because I didn’t want to deal with it, but I shouldn’t have.
The trouble is, I’ve been in my own way so much over the past few years. I refused to acknowledge that things weren’t working out with Peter and never would, that I didn’t evenlikethe pompous fucker, for far too long, just because I didn’t know who I was without him. Didn’t want all the energy and effort I’d sunk into being his partner to come to nothing, just so many years of wasted time. And I didn’t want to face that version of me, the ditched woman, dumped like garbage. Someone not good enough who would disappoint my parents yet again.
Peter didn’t make me happy. And I allowed it to continue for the most idiotic reasons. I don’t know what that says about me, but I know I don’t like it.
Idoknow that Leo is, and always has been, far closer to my type than Peter. In looks, in temperament, in interests, even injob. We’ve always had more to say to each other, had more fun running errands than Peter and I had during Christmases and birthdays and Valentine’s Days.
But I always distanced myself from the idea of Leo being anything more for me, both due to loyalty to my then-long term boyfriend, and out of a keen sense of self preservation. For someone who’s been eating his heart out over me for the past few years, he sure has been carving shit tons more than his fair share of notches on his bedpost. He’s got a reputation, a level ofinfamy, in Foxton-on-Sea as an amazing one night stand, with women queueing in line for their turn, waiting for him to notice and select them. So how deep are these feelings he has for me, really? What if I get attached and he gets bored once the novelty of getting the one person he couldn’t have wears off? It could easily happen.
I have more questions than answers at this point.
I also have a burning need to talk about this with my best friend, the one person other than Tim who I know understands me.
Tim is out tonight, and even if he wasn’t, I’m not ready for things to get as real as they do when I share them with my twin.
I thought about calling the girls, but that doesn’t scratch the itch, either.
There’s only one person I need right now.
Sadie: Meet me on the pier.
I always think clearer when I can smell the sea breeze. Seeing the ocean makes everything feel infinite, the possibilities feel endless, and I have always gained an enormous amount of comfort from that when I’ve needed it.
Leo: On my way
The pier is fairly quiet,thankfully. A few teenagers throwing chips at each other, and an elderly couple watching the swooping seagulls trying to snaffle the discarded fries away for their dinner. The clouds glow orange at the edge as the sun makes its first moves towards setting. The air smells of salt water and candy floss and cinnamon sugar, and the ragged wooden boards creak and wobble pleasantly under my feet. This pier has stood for around two centuries; it’s going to take more than a few footprints to take it down.
Leo is already there, waiting for me. His hair is just barely contained by one of the biodegradable hair ties I bought for him, and his dark clothes emphasise his pallor. At this moment I feel horribly like I’ve made him ill.
Until he turns and sees me, and he gives me a gentle, tired smile. “Hey, Pumpkin,” he murmurs.
Something tickles in the pit of my abdomen. “Hey.” I stop a few feet away from him, and we just look at each other for a long moment.
“Come on,” he whispers, holding his hand out towards me. After a second’s hesitation, I take it, the way I always have whenever he’s offered it to me. Warm and rough and comforting, even though he’s the source of my turmoil.
He leads me out of the pier, along the seafront, and up some stone steps to a wooden bench on a grass verge. I think I’ve sat here before, but I’ve never really paid much attention to it. There’s a brass plaque on the back rest:In loving memory of Lucinda Povey, beloved wife and mother. I’ll sit here and wait for you as long as it takes. All my love, Angus.A lump grows in my throat. “Lucinda was my great aunt on my dad’s side,”he sighs as we sit down. “She and Angus lived around here all their lives.”
“I’m…so sorry.”
“It’s OK. She passed years ago. Uncle Angus only had to wait eighteen months to join her. But each and every day until then, he sat here and spoke to her, like she was right next to him. Like she’d never left.” He keeps his eyes off me, looking out across the vast, grey ocean. “This is my…I guess you’d call it my place to think. Or tonotthink, sometimes, too.”
“That’s lovely.” This is weird. This awkwardness, this distance between us. I despise it with everything in me. I need my buddy, my confidante, my touchstone.
“Are we OK?” His voice sounds so uncertain. My heart aches.
“Of course we are,” I say in a wobbly voice.
