“We shouldn’t have gone behind her back. I shouldn’t have.”
“I know, and I feel responsible. I want to fix things somehow.”
“I don’t think it’s possible to fix anything. She hates me, Jamie. She doesn’t want me.”
“Both of those points are laughable.”
“She made it very clear. She could never be in love with someone like me.”
“And you believed it? I didn’t think you were that gullible.”
“I don’t know what to believe right now.”
“In yourself,” he says seriously. “You have to believe in yourself and you’ll see that things’ll work out.”
“I’m not so sure of that.”
“Have faith, okay? Give her some time to come to terms with it, you’ll see that she’ll be reasonable, will be ready to clear things up. In the meantime, try not to let yourself go too much and don’t give up all hope. You’re not the giving up kind, Ian O’Connor.”
“Well, it would appear that I’m not that tough,” I say, resignedly.
“You really are. Now, let’s get ready, training awaits.”
He smiles as he walks away from me, leaving the changing room and heading to the gym.
I stay on the bench, staring into the emptiness that I’m waiting to pass, so that I can start to concentrate on my life again.
So that I can start working out and training seriously, so that I can focus my mind on the championship, the national team. So that I can think about my family and my two arsehole brothers.
So that I can think about me. Just about myself.
I have to go back, rewind the tape. Erase. Forget.
I won’t let any other woman get so close to me. I won’t look beyond the physical. Won’t dig into their hearts. Won’t let them take everything and leave me with fuck all.
No one will ever do it again.
* * *
She opensthe glass door and goes down the stairs slowly, bundled up in her coat, closed away in her hiding place. Just like every other day.
She doesn’t look around, doesn’t notice anything, doesn’t hear anything. Exactly like me.
She walks distractedly down the street and crosses at the traffic light, going almost the entire way down O’Connell Street. She stops outside the window of a Starbucks.
She waits there.
Then she continues down the street, going into Kylemore.
Just like she does every day.
She disappears into the crowd, then I see her sitting at a table, alone in the most secluded corner of the place.
She endlessly stirs her drink, staring at her cup. Then she stops and rests her spoon on the table.
Just like she does every day.
She doesn’t drink it. She doesn’t lift her eyes. She doesn’t breathe.
