Passersby dwindle as the day moves toward the end. Tyler appeared an hour after Aaron, with tickets for the premiere screening of a new anime movie tonight, but I declined, too exhausted. I spent half the day on pins waiting for Aaron to reappear, but he doesn’t. Was I wrong? Did my not-so-subtle hint to leave me alone work? Earlier, I asked Erin to bring me lunch, and told her I no longer needed her to take over, and we both know why. I’m a huge coward, too scared to talk to Aaron if I bump into him.

The conflicting emotions over his surprise visit are at least pushed away by my busy day. As the lull turns into a smattering of people only, I sort through my stock, shocked by how much I sold. A quick count shows I’ve only a handful of the most popular prints for tomorrow’s sales day.

Wow. This isn’t megabucks but will certainly pay for something nice. Or, if I’m very sensible, add to my savings. An investment in a new drawing tablet for the future. My mind runs through the options but really, if I walk around the stalls here, half my profits will morph into t-shirts, Pop! figures and jewellery.

A volunteer passes with a large black trash bag and an exhausted look as she picks items from the floor. The people along our sales alley have dwindled to nothing. I chat to the young girl beside me about her wooden jewellery-making process, and to the guy with his amazing digital art sitting the other side. He gives me advice on different printers and business growth ideas. These people accept me: amateur, unsure, me. By the end of the day, my pride swells my head, tempered by the worry Aaron will return. Because he will.

“Do you need help clearing up?” Rhetorical question as Erin and Cole tidy items into one of the small boxes on the floor.

“Maybe you could take the box to the car for me?” I suggest to Cole.

“Are you staying for the movie?” asks Erin.

“Maybe.”

“Ugh. Really? I hoped you’d take me home. I don’t want watch it.”

“What’s wrong with the movie?” asks Cole.

She wrinkles her nose at him. “I don’t like cartoons, remember?”

He exchanges a glance with me. “They’re not really cartoons, Erin.”

“Uh. They are.”

I dip my head, ready to ignore one of their ‘discussions’ over Erin’s inability to see the differences.

“I’ll take you home,” he says with a sigh. “You okay to meet me here later, Evie?”

“Yeah, I think Tyler’s meeting everyone outside the theatre upstairs, at about seven. Could see you there?”

He glances at his phone. “Sure.”

I’m knocked backwards when Erin throws her arms around my neck and places a kiss with a loud ‘mwah’ on my cheek.

“What was that for?” I ask and steady myself on the table.

“I’m proud of you! You did awesome. Are you proud of you?”

“I guess. I mean, I don’t compare to some of these guys but I did okay.”

“Humble brag,” mutters Cole.

“Did Aaron come back?” she asks.

My stomach lurches. “Not yet. I expect he’ll appear soon.”

“Leave with us?” she suggests.

I shake my head. “I’ll stay. I think he’ll come back tomorrow if I don’t speak to him today. I’ll listen to what he has to say.”

The look the couple give each other is clear doubt. Sure, I’m on edge waiting for the man to reappear, but mostly because the anger is tempered by hope he’ll explain this is all a big mistake and why and he wants us... I scoff at myself. That won’t happen; all this will be is closure over our mess up. Perhaps he didn’t see the big deal. He’s a guy after all, and not as intuitive as I once thought.

Whatever, I’m sick of second-guessing Aaron. If he can give me the truth, I can accept and move on.

* * *

Aaron walks straight up and sits on the chair behind my table, rather than creepy staring from a distance. I don’t notice at first as I’m busy loading cards into boxes, thinking the presence nearby is Cole or Tyler.

No. He sits, arms between his knees as he regards me through exhausted eyes.

“Hello again, Aaron.”

“Evie.” He smiles but the smile doesn’t touch his eyes. What is with him? “I like you didn’t call me Thor. You only call me Thor recently.”

“We’re not online. This is reality.”

Aaron looks down at the paper bag he has in his hands. “I come bearing a tribute.”

Now I frown, in confusion, as he hands me the bag. “You’re pale. Looks like your blood sugar dropped.”

I peek inside and fight a smile as I pull out a thick, bright green liquorice rope. “Nice.”

He takes the second rope from inside and tears the end with his teeth. “Reminds me of when we first met. The cute girl with the sweet tooth and—” He points at my chest “Unicorn lover.”

I place my liquorice back in the bag, despite the overwhelming desire to bite. “I think I love mythical entities. Y’know, like people online who claim to want offline relationships.”

He silently chews on his liquorice and watches. “Why did you refuse to talk to me when I called, following the time you saw me in the city?”

“You hadn’t answered my texts or calls for weeks and then I bump into you with another woman. In Perth. Can’t you figure out the answer based on those facts?”

“I should’ve come to see you before today, but things have been difficult.”

No denial. Not the words I need: ‘No, Evie, she’s not my girlfriend. Lover. Wife. Elf on the side.’

“Things? Okay. I’d rather draw a line under the experience. We had fun, I just wish you hadn’t ended things in such an immature way.”

“How? I never ended anything. You wouldn’t talk to me.”

The emotions locked away in a chest in the deepest recesses rattle against the lock, and I ignore them. “I felt like an idiot, that’s why. I always worried you might lie to me, and now understand what you meant about long-distance relationships. It’s cool, Aaron.”

“No, it’s not.” He shifts in his seat, looking up. I’ve only met him in person a few times but there really is something different here. Not one twitch of smug or attempt to outwit; no clever words to sweet-talk me or break down my Hot Guy Resistance. He’s closer to the taciturn online Thorsday who rarely spoke for weeks.

This isn’t the man who took me bowling, turned up at my house desperate to see me, eyes shining with happiness. Not the one I spent way too much time naked with when we were face to face.

I pause in my tidying. “Are you okay, Aaron?”

He fixes me with an unwavering look. Why expect him to answer a personal question? He never has before. “No.”

Oh. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything.”

My chest tightens, how I grew to care for this guy overriding the hurt and anger. I rest on the edge of the table and soften my voice. Maybe he wanted to speak to an outsider, not connected with whatever’s screwing with his life? If that’s the case, coming to me is unfair.

“What happened?” I ask. “You don’t look well.”

“I need to talk to you and explain why I’ve behaved the way I have. Why I couldn’t say anything to you before.”

“Say anything about what?” My eyes go to his left hand. Nothing, but my suspicion remains. “You are married, aren’t you? Or were? Have you come to tell me your marriage is over and now you want me?”

“I’m not married, Evie.”

“But there’s someone else, right? Who’s the woman from the cafe?”

Aaron’s face changes, hard but against himself not me, and the sick suspicion taps me on the shoulder with a whisper: ‘I told you so.’

“Not the girl you saw me with.” His voice is flat as he looks around. At the stalls, at the others packing items into boxes ready to leave. The floor. Anywhere but me.

I fight the threatening tears. Why did he have to come and attempt to loot the chest where everything’s locked away? We were short lived. Over. He doesn’t get to loot because all he’ll find inside is now decayed.

“Will you talk to me?” he asks. “I hate that I hurt you. That I hurt us.” He takes a hard bite of the liquorice and unable to resist anymore, I pull my strand out.

Because liquorice so suits intense conversations about infidelity.

“You have five minutes. But I don’t want to hear any lies.”

“Not here. And more than five minutes. Come with me, and I’ll tell you everything. I promise. Even things I don’t tell other people.”

“Go with you where?” I tense. “Tell me what?”

Aaron stands and lifts one of the boxes, the muscles in his arms distracting me as they flex with the movement. “I’ll help you take these to your car and while we do you can think about whether you’ll listen. Let me know once we’ve finished up.”

We make two silent trips to and from the large underground car park. Aaron carries most while I trail along behind drinking water and watching him. He doesn’t attempt to touch me, and even though we’re nowhere near each other, I’m resisting my body’s magnetic need to attach. A huge part wants to snap my hand in his and ask what’s wrong. If his vibe was guilt, I’d never do this, but his hovering sadness trumps everything else.

Aaron swings the car boot closed. “Have you decided if you’ll talk?”

“I need to. We need to, I guess.”

For the first time, Aaron’s smile reaches his eyes. “Strictly speaking, you don’t, and could just tell me to piss off. I’m happy we mean more than that.”

My mouth dries. We?

“I just don’t like unfinished business, Aaron.”

“Neither do I, but sometimes things take a long time to leave your life and settle your soul.” He rubs his bottom lip. “And some things never will.”

“That’s very profound.” He doesn’t respond. “Where are we going? The petrol fumes in here are choking me.”

I don’t invite Aaron into my car, or in the direction of my home. Petty maybe, but I don’t want to imply forgiveness. Man, I hold a grudge well.

Instead, we head back into the Convention Centre and buy overpriced drinks in a small venue nearby. For five, infuriating minutes, little is said besides a few sentences about the game and the guild.

Aaron pushes his empty cup across the table. “I can’t talk here. Please, Evie, I need to do this somewhere privately.”

I’ve spent time alone with Aaron before, once for an entire weekend, without seeing anybody else. I know him well enough to doubt he’ll physically hurt me.

“Where do you want to go?” I ask. “Because you’re not coming back to my place.”

“Come back to mine.”

“Which hotel are you staying in?”

“No, my place.”

Confusion sweeps in, battering back against the Watertight Chest containing my emotions. “You live in Perth now?”

“I did once. Remember I told you that? I never sold my house when I left.”

My mind races, grasping at every word. More lies? No, what are they called these days? Alternative facts? “This is because there was someone else, right? Was she the long distance? And now she’s moved out?”

He tips his head. “Your brain works very fast at jumping to conclusions.”

“And your mouth works very slowly at telling the truth.”

A second smile of the day appears. “You deserve better.”

“Damn straight.”

“So, will you come to my place and let me tell you everything I should’ve months ago?”

I pick my purse from the floor and place it on the table in front of me, gripping the handles. He means, do I let him back into my life? Even if just for the afternoon?

Aaron knows my curiosity and need for answers will overcome the hurt.

“Okay, but I don’t understand why we can’t just have the chat somewhere neutral.”

He straightens. “Okay. Neutral. Good idea. Can you drive us to the beach?”