I walk over to the church playground and climb a few steps up the dome-shaped jungle gym. The sun burns brightly without a cloud in the sky, prompting me to remove my jacket and roll up my sleeves a little. I take out my wallet and look closely at the picture that we took of ourselves in Colorado... the second shot, the shot where Emi surprised me with a kiss on the cheek.
I was so certain of her feelings for me back then. I defended them vehemently to my doubting brother, and now, I’m not so certain she wants to marry me after all. Maybe she just needs a little time to adjust to the idea. I can give her more time. I always do.
A cousin of Emi’s comes out with his son, probably around three-years-old. I remember meeting him at Chris’s wedding, but I’m not certain he remembers me. If he does, he gives me no sign that he does. He puts the young child at the top of the slide, and, standing to the side, carefully pulls him all the way down, picking him up and swinging him around when they reach the bottom. The little boy giggles wildly every time his dad lifts him into the air. He repeats this multiple times, and although I try to distract myself, I can’t pry my eyes away. I want that.
I’m so caught up in their merriment that I don’t even realize Emi has joined me outside. She kicks her shoes off before climbing up to me. She settles herself on my jacket, facing inward, looking up curiously at me.
“Hey, Godfather,” she smiles, taking my left hand and kissing my knuckle. “You just need a ring.”
I struggle to laugh. “I’m working on that,” I mumble.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, her head propped on her fists, elbows resting on the bar in front of her. The glare from the setting sun makes her squint, makes her pale green eyes look even paler, more beautiful.
“Not feeling well,” I lie. “I think it must be something I ate.”
“Really? Can I get you something?”
“No, I think I’m just going to go home.”
“Would you like me to come with you?” she smiles, concerned. “I’ll take care of you.”
“Actually, Em,” I begin, “I’d rather go alone, if that’s alright.”
“Oh,” she says, looking surprised. “Okay. I can get a ride to my place with Chris and Anna, that’s fine.”
“You don’t mind?”
“No... are you sure I can’t do anything for you?”
Agree to adoption. Move in with me. Set a date. Commit to me already! Erase my doubts. Tell me you love me more than you loved him. “I’m sure.”
“Okay,” she smiles. “Let me at least help you to the car.”
“I’m fine, Emi,” I tell her. “Just go back inside with your family.”
I climb off the metal bars and help her down and back into her shoes.
“Are you sure you’re just not feeling well, Jack?” she asks, confused.
“Yes,” I say, sounding a little annoyed. She crinkles her eyebrows together and looks at me thoughtfully.
“I love you,” she says. Staring into her eyes, I search for truth, or doubt. I’m not sure what I see. “Will you call me later and let me know how you’re feeling?”
“Sure thing, Em,” I sigh. “Talk to you later.” I kiss her on the forehead before walking to my car. Before I drive off, I notice she’s still standing at the jungle gym, watching me. She barely lifts her hand to wave goodbye.
An unfamiliar car sits in the street in front of my house when I get home. I pull into the driveway and try to see who is sitting in the driver’s seat. Not recognizing the woman, I step out of the car and make my way to the front door.
“Jack,” a voice calls out from behind me. I stop dead in my tracks as I recognize the voice, confident and feminine.
“Caroline?” I ask, turning around. My ex-fiancée, dressed in tailored pants and a fitted blouse, walks toward me, closing her car door tentatively. She looks more attractive than I remember her, her hair perfectly styled in neat curls, her lipstick blood-red. “What are you doing here?”
“So you do still live here,” she smiles. “How are you, Jack?”
“I’m good,” I tell her, surprised. “What brings you over here?”
“I was just in the neighborhood,” she says, “and I thought I’d see how the house looked. I didn’t expect you to still be living here. It looks great.”
“Yeah,” I say, running my hand through my hair nervously. “Not much has changed,” I laugh. We stand awkwardly on the front steps. “Um, did you want to come in?”
“I wouldn’t be intruding?” she asks.
“No,” I tell her, unlocking the door and holding it open for her. “Come in.” She pauses in the foyer as I close and lock the door. I remove my jacket and lay it casually on the back of the couch.
“It really hasn’t changed,” she laughs, looking around. She walks over to the bookshelf that holds all of my family’s pictures. “Wow, look how the kids have grown, though,” she says, picking up a group shot of me and Kelly’s children from last winter. She either misses or ignores a shot of Emi and me taken at Chris’s wedding.
“Yeah, they have,” I agree.
“Where were you coming from?” she asks. “You look nice.”
“I was at a christening. I’m a godfather,” I smile.
“Well, congratulations,” she laughs.
“Thanks... do you want to sit down?” I ask her, offering her a seat on the couch.
“Sure, thank you, Jacks.” Jacks. Her voice is sweet, almost too sweet.
“So, how have you been? What are you doing these days?”
“I still work for the same company,” she says, smiling. “I made partner last year.”
“That’s great, do you still enjoy it?”
“I guess,” she says with hesitation. “It’s not as fulfilling as it once was,” she adds. “But it’s a pretty good job, I guess.”
“That’s good, I’m glad to hear it.”
“You?”
“Still consulting. I spent three weeks in Europe with a new client this spring.”
“And how is your family?”
“They’re great.”
“Do they still hate me?”
“They never hated you, Caroline,” I correct her. “Break-ups are just part of life. We had different wants. They understood.” I have no doubt that if Emi makes the same decision Caroline did, they would never forgive her. They know how Emi completes my life; how she is my whole world.
“That’s a relief,” she says. “I always worried about that.”
“Well, there was no need.”
“I’m a little parched,” Caroline says, clutching her throat.
“Oh, excuse me, I’m sorry,” I laugh, embarrassed. “Of course, would you like something to drink?”
“A glass of water would be fine,” she answers. As I get up to go into the kitchen, she adds, “or maybe a glass of wine, do you have any on hand?”
“Sure,” I tell her. “Just a second.” While I’m in the kitchen, I hear her turn on my stereo and tune it to a jazz station.
Why is she here? Just in the neighborhood? Really?
I glance at the wine rack and notice it’s empty.
“I need to go get some wine from the basement,” I tell her on my way through the room. “Just make yourself at home. White or red?”
“Red,” she says.
I always wondered how I would react when I saw her again. It had been about three years since we last saw each other. We met at a coffee shop to exchange the last of our personal belongings. It was awkward, at best.
At the time, I was just angry with her. I still had feelings for her, still loved her, but felt as if she had strung me along for years, making me believe we wanted the same things. I was disappointed– no, crushed– when she decided to leave.
It took a long time for me to really see the light, for me to accept that we really weren’t meant to be together. Emi was always just a fantasy. Caroline was real. Caroline was who I was ready to settle down with... to settle with. Even before I met her, I had long ago a
ccepted that romantic love was just a fabrication made for children’s books. We had an arrangement, an agreement of sorts. I cared about her. Loved her. But maybe I wasn’t in love with her. It would have worked, somehow. At least that’s what I had convinced myself to believe.
It’s definitely strange to see her, to have her here in my house– our house. The memories rush back, flood me with feelings I hadn’t remembered for years... the fight we had in the girl’s room, still decorated the same way it was when I first showed it to her... the passionate tears she wept as she ran up the stairs to the main level... the make-up sex we had later that night on the couch, the very couch she sits on upstairs, waiting for me. I sit down for a few minutes to catch my breath and clear my head.
Why today, of all days?
I find a bottle of Emi’s favorite wine downstairs. It’s the only red I have on hand... I debate telling Caroline I’m out of red, and offering her a white, but it’s just wine. It’s not like I’m betraying Emi.
“Everything okay?” she asks as I ascend the stairs from the basement and walk into the kitchen.
“Fine, yes,” I tell her, grabbing a corkscrew and two glasses and heading back into the living room. I open the bottle and pour the wine into the glasses, then set the bottle next to my phone on the coffee table at the exact moment a text message from Emi pops up. I shove the phone into my shirt pocket without checking it.
“To old friends,” Caroline says, lifting her glass.
“Old friends,” I agree, taking a sip. “So, what brought you to the old neighborhood?”
She laughs nervously, taking a drink. “Okay, you got me. I was hoping to see you,” she admits.
“What for?” I ask.
“Well, Jacks,” she says, brushing my hand lightly with hers. “My priorities have changed.”
I swallow audibly, nearly choking out the wine I had just sipped. “Meaning?”
“I wasn’t ready then, Jacks,” she says, looking deeply into my eyes for encouragement. “I didn’t think I would ever want children. That’s why I left.”
“You don’t need to remind me,” I explain.
“I know, but if I had ever thought that someday I would want to be a mother, I would have stayed with you. You’re going to make a great father... and husband.”
“Yes, I know,” I tell her, short, feeling my nostrils flare.
“I want that now. I’m ready. And I’m so sorry, Jacks, for not realizing this years ago.” I set down my glass, folding my hands in my lap and looking down at the carpet. Why now?
“Caroline, I–”
“Just hear me out, Jacks, sweetie, okay?” Sweetie? “I never stopped loving you, Jacks. All these years, I haven’t even dated anyone. I know you’re the perfect man for me, you are. I’ve always known that... you were always who I wanted, but I know I wasn’t what you wanted back then. I know you wanted someone to be the mother to your children, and I can be that now.”
“Caroline,” I attempt again.
“Wait, Jacks. I am ready to give you everything you ever wanted. I love you, still. We can pick up where we left off, or if you want to start fresh, we can do that, too. We can do this on your terms... if you want.”
“But–” This time, she cuts me off by crushing my lips with hers. As she grips onto my neck, I push her back gently, not wanting to hurt her ego.
“Jacks,” she continues, not willing to give up. “Remember that night, on this sofa? Wasn’t that the most amazing night? You made love to me right here,” she says, patting the cushion, leaning back, looking at me through hooded eyes. “You said it was the best sex of your life. Remember?”
The sex that night had been fueled by our fight, by our hurt feelings, by our mutual desires of wanting to be loved for who we were, for what we could give each other then, and nothing more. It was passionate, unthinking, instinctive... good... but it couldn’t compare to any night I had spent with Emi. Not a single one. “Of course I remember,” I tell her, thankful that she let me get an entire sentence out.
“Don’t you want that again?”
I stare at her in silence, not sure where to even begin, disbelieving that she’s back here, in my house, wanting me, wanting to marry me, wanting to have children with me.
“I’m ready now,” she says as her hand caresses my jaw, attempting to pull my face toward hers for another kiss. Her other hand finds itself in my lap. I take both of them quickly into my own, holding them tightly, restricting her movement.
“Caroline,” I say stunned, “I am flattered... umm...”
“I’m too late, aren’t I?” she asks. My eyes answer her question.
“Yes, Caroline. I’d say you’re about eleven years too late.”
“What do you mean?” she asks. “We only broke up three and a half years ago.”
“Honestly, Caroline,” I tell her. “I met the woman of my dreams in college. We’re together now.”
“Pale Green Eyes?” she asks, knowing the story by heart. I can remember the night I told her about Emi, and how insecure she had felt for weeks after that, telling me she’d never seen the fire in my eyes like she had when I told her the story of how I met her at the party.
“Emi,” I correct her.
“But you’re not married, are you?”
“Not yet,” I answer. “But I hope to be soon.”
“Hmmmmm,” she hedges. “Where there’s no ring, there’s a way.”
“No,” I argue. “I don’t think that’s true in our case. Plus, she has the ring.”
“Oh,” she says, surprised. “Well, how long have you two been together?” she asks.
“Almost a year,” I tell her, being vague on purpose.
“Well, it’s still early in your relationship, then. We were together three years... look how we ended up.”
“Apart, yes,” I remind her.
“Don’t you regret it? Do you ever miss me?”
“Well–”
“Don’t answer,” she says. “Do you ever miss this?” Again, her hand settles on my crotch, her fingers kneading gently before I realize what’s happening. I quickly stand up, my phone flying across the room and landing roughly on the brick floor around the fireplace, breaking apart into three pieces.
“Caroline,” I state sternly, my face feverishly hot at this point. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Oh, Jacks, it was just getting fun,” she pleads. “I’ll give you everything... anything you want. Just name it, I’ll do it.”
“Please leave,” I repeat. “You can’t give me anything I want. She is it. She is everything.” Even if I’m not sure I’m her everything, I can’t deny what she is to me.
“Wow,” she says, her anger evident in her tone and expression. “Well, I hope you have fun explaining this.” She smiles and raises her eyebrows, a certain smugness spreading across her face.
“Explaining what? There’s nothing to explain,” I argue, walking to the front door and opening it for her. “You’re my past. Just because you’re here today doesn’t change that... and she already knows about you. It’s history. Period.”
“Well, good luck anyway. Something tells me you’re going to need it, Jacks.” She thrusts the contents of her nearly-full glass of wine at me and hands me the glass before walking out the door.
“Goodbye, Caroline,” I spit out the words, hoping to never have to say them again, to see her again. After shutting the door, I strip off my shirts, heading straight toward the laundry room to attempt to remove the wine stains from my dress shirts. I don’t need this today.
The nerve of her coming here, after three years. This is not her home, it’s mine. Someday it will be Emi’s, I hope. Caroline had no right coming here, and it was a mistake for me to even invite her in. How was I to know she would end up throwing herself at me?
But at least she knows what she wants. At least she’s ready to commit to me now...
I shake those thoughts out of my head. Who cares if she knows? She’s not
who I want.
But who I want– Emi– she’s not even certain of what she wants. This could easily turn out to be another situation like mine and Caroline’s. Any day now, Emi could realize that I’m not who she wants... and choose to leave, just like Caroline did.
Why is it so hard for the woman that I love to... to choose to love me back? To decide to move forward with her life? With our life together?
After starting the washing machine, I go back upstairs to find the pieces of my phone. Emi had sent me a text message, and I wanted to know what she said.
Phone. Battery. Back plate. Doesn’t seem so bad. I put the pieces back together, and for a moment, the text on the screen flashes briefly before I can read it all... before it fades away permanently.
“Who was th...”
My heart stops. Who was that? Is that what it said? Who was who? I take the phone to the wall charger and plug it in. Still nothing. I unplug it and disassemble the phone again before reassembling it more carefully this time. The display still remains dark after I plug it in a second time. I pat it forcefully in the palm of my hand. Damn it, not now!
Who was th... What did it say? I look outside the front door to see if Emi might be there... did she see Caroline come in? Surely I’m reading it wrong. Surely my guilty conscience is getting the best of me. Emi was probably asking me about someone at the christening today. That must be it. And if it was urgent, she would have called.
I take a deep breath and sit back down on the couch to have the rest of my wine in an attempt to relax. Before I get too comfortable, I remember the spilled wine by the front door and grab a wet rag from the kitchen to clean it up.
A loud rap on the door jolts me, bringing me quickly to my feet. I told her to leave... can she not take a hint?
Throwing open the door, I don’t give her a chance to speak. “I told you to–”
“Fuck you!” Emi screams as my breathing halts. Her cheeks are stained with mascara, eyes wild, red from crying. “And fuck that bitch that you’re with!” She takes the ring off her finger and throws it hard at my bare chest, the metal clanking on the concrete patio. Without thinking, I grab her arm and yank her toward me until she is inside the house. She struggles, and another voice startles me before I can close the door.