Chapter 7 - Hugo
I remember the first time we said, “I love you.” I don’t remember exactly how it started, but you were goofing around and saying you had something to tell me. I just knew what you wanted to say, just by the look in your eyes. In fact, I had known all week that something was happening. Because it was happening to me, too. So when you kept making eyes at me that evening, I felt like I wanted to say the same. You said you were afraid. I understood that. I was afraid too. It was heavy, and nothing we ever did was heavy. You said you didn’t want to say it first, but you didn’t want me to say it first either. So I told you we’d count to three then say it together. Do you remember how we held hands? It was kind of cute. We counted but on three you blurted out “I love you” but I couldn’t say it, and I kissed you instead and made light of it, then said of course I loved you. We fought. I didn’t get it. I said it, eventually, didn’t I? What did it matter, to say the words out loud? You knew deep down how I felt about you, didn’t you? Anyway, the make-up sex was great.
Mom was right. There was a lot of crap down here. Some of these boxes held things I had forgotten even existed. Old school notebooks from when Max and I were in first grade… broken lamps that hadn’t seen the light of day since the 90s, small bags of nails and stale art supplies and a dusty book of carpet samples my mom had ordered once when we renovated the bedrooms.
Then I saw it.
It took me a while to believe my eyes, but there was no denying it. Miraculously, the bundle was still wrapped up neat with a silky red bow. I had come down here to forget about her. But now here she was, right in front of me, bound in a little package of memories. I just looked at it for a moment but then I gathered my nerve to pull it out from under a pile of old curtains and examine it.
Time hadn’t been good to it. The large paper envelope inside was yellowed and the knot in the ribbon was crusted with hardened dust. Had I really left Becky so long ago? Was it really that long now, since we exchanged our packages and swore to each other that distance was nothing, that we’d make it work because we were never destined to be one of those broken couples? My fingertips teased over the knot as I considered what would happen if I opened it.
The truth was I had never opened it, even back then. I bet she pored over the one I gave her, relished it, framed it or put it in her scrap book. But I couldn’t do that. At the time I told her I was saving it, that it was too painful. That I was spacing out each and every one of her words to make them last. That had been a lie. I was really just afraid. I wasn’t cut out for high romance and grand gestures. We’d ‘wait for each other’? I had no idea what that even meant. I had sexual ADD. I was just a fucking kid back then, what did I know about what five whole years would feel like? She wanted a wedding; I thought that marriage was just a piece of paper.
On the Saturday morning, a week before I left for my first deployment, she told me she wanted to make ‘memory boxes’ so we wouldn’t forget each other, and could always be with each other even while I was away. She was always like that, Becky, always doing girly little things, but that time I couldn’t handle it. She had so much expectation in her face when she handed the box to me. I had wanted to get out of serious pieces of paper and now she had handed me hundreds of them, wrapped in a red bow. We fought like hell that night. By Sunday afternoon it was all over. My stack of love notes remained unopened; she had expected a box from me but, like the dick that I was, I avoided making one for her. Then it was too late, and she was more disappointed than I had ever seen her.
I pulled on the ribbon. You could now see how faded it was, retaining a bright red color only around the kinked place where it had been knotted. The envelope was brittle and came away easily. The notes inside were old enough to have a smell, and the top note was written in bold, curly calligraphy that had probably been colored in once but was now just black ink: Hugo and Bex – Memories.
Each note was a different color. Some were long and written in the tiny, loopy handwriting I’d recognize anywhere. Others were short poems, little quotes, pictures. Most of them were descriptions of memories of our relationship. I flipped through these quickly, a sharp tear in one eye beginning to blur the words. She had color coordinated them, naturally. How else would a woman like Becky do it?
I remember the first time I met your grandmother… I know that we’re separated by time and place right now, but even though I can’t be with you, you can always look at these notes whenever you need. Do you remember when this photo was taken? It looks like a New Year’s picture, doesn’t it? This was the first moment I realized… I remember how much of a damn charmer you were. Still are! I remember that time we went to the beach together, just you and I…
I couldn’t push myself to read more than a few words from each page. It was like Becky was right here now with me. Or rather, the ghost of Becky, how she was before I became the guy that ruined her life, a time when her face still lit up whenever she saw me…
A dark red note caught my eye.
My favorite part of your body is your bellybutton. Or actually, maybe it’s your butt :) I love every part of you. I love the way you press all the way inside me, way deeper than I think I can handle, and then you hold me and stare into my eyes. No matter how many times we do that I still blush like crazy when I think of you… everyone around me must think I’m not really all there. But can I tell you a secret? I feel like you own me. Like my body is yours now. I know it sounds lame, but I feel like you’ve marked me somehow, like a switch has been turned on inside me somewhere, and now I’m like one of those baby geese but I’ve imprinted on your cock instead…
My fingers trembled. I understood now: the green notes were for poems, the yellow for little letters, the orange for sweet memories, the dark red for… sexy memories. I rummaged and pulled out every dark red note I could find.
I remember the first time you made me cum with your tongue. You were always so stupidly good at that. Do you know, I used to sometimes get cramps in my neck the day after because I was clenching my neck so hard? Haha… Now I want to tell you the hottest thing I can remember. That time when we were on holiday with your mom and brother at the beach house, and the walls were so thin – do you remember? Oh god I wanted you so bad I thought I was going to die. We just never got a split second alone. Do you remember we lay on our bellies in the sand by the lagoon and you said we’d just have verbal sex instead? Oh my god. There were people all around us, and we were both horny as hell, but you just took your time and described every little thing in detail… you know I was never able to do that again, to cum without touching myself, to cum fully clothed like that, like nothing was happening… I think I was so desperate and the sound of the ocean in the distance was so lovely and the things you whispered in my ear were so… Don’t ever dare think about cheating me on, ok? You have everything you need here. Can you imagine how good it’ll feel when we finally see each other again? I want you to fuck me so hard it hurts. Don’t forget that. Don’t forget that wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I’m here and there’s nothing we can’t do with each other, to each other. Nothing off limits. When I see you again I want you to tie me up but this time, no safe word. No words at all. Don’t hold back. When I scream and tell you to stop, go even harder…
There had to be hundreds of notes here. It was incredible. How had she found the time to compile all of this? I felt strange. I had forgotten how much of a freak Ghost Becky had been. I had forgotten how she was. I had forgotten the beach, the Christmas party, the time at the movies, that dog, the thing I said under the tree that one time… Reading her words felt like conjuring her up in my mind. Her voice, her big red hair, her slightly unhinged giggle… I held in my hands an autopsy of our relationship.
I kept reading, haphazardly, my eyes picking through phrases, the romantic and the obscene alike. But I couldn’t find what I think I was really looking for: where had things gone wrong? How the hell had I broken up with a woman who wrote like this about me?
Do you remember our first time? I will never forget it… it wasn’t planned or anything but…
I didn’t need to read on. The memory she was talking about came flooding into my mind so hard it almost took my breath away. In the dusty dim light of the basement I realized I was hard. I squeezed my eyes shut, pressed a flat palm against my cock and fleshed out the memory for myself. All these memories had just been waiting here all this time, while I did my best to forget them. Waves of guilt and regret and confusion washed over me. But more than that, I realized how deeply I missed her. Her smile. The way I could make her smile. The way she opened to me, the way she loved me, every inch of me, and how we both never tired of finding new ways to please one another.
My breath deepened as I tried to stroke away the aching urge just behind the zip of my trousers. Her name found its way onto my lips and I thought, maybe I could let myself be haunted, just for a moment, by the heady words on these notes… Just whispering her name to myself, alone, felt like I was conjuring the memories to life, like I was toying with fate, stirring mischief.
I stroked and felt myself swell, as though my body itself was remembering her… her scent, the weight of her breasts, the texture and temperature of her skin…
Ring.
I froze, then fumbled to answer my phone, voice croaking a little.
“Hello?”
“Hey you,” came a female voice.
Shit. I didn’t need this. I didn’t want this.
“Hey, uh, Tash… sorry for not getting back to you, it’s been really crazy around here…”
“It’s Kirsten.”
My brain whirred for a moment. Shit.
“Kirsten. Yeah. Hi…”
I had vaguely sort of maybe told her I’d come with her to some party thing she had told me about. Was that today? I couldn’t fucking remember. Shit.
“Uh… is this a bad time?” she said. I hastily tried to gather the papers together with my other hand.
“No, uh, of course not. I’m just kind of …distracted right now. I’m sorry for being a little scarce lately.” God I hated myself.
“Yeah I know, I’m having a bad week too.”
“Yeah?”
Her voice sounded breathy, like she was leaning in too close to the phone.
“Yeah. You know how everything kind of goes wrong all at once? Like that. Plus now my roommate was supposed to clear the last of her stuff out of here yesterday and she’s just gone and flaked on me. She won’t answer her phone or anything.”
“What?”
Becky. She never ignored her phone. My thoughts raced ahead while I tried to sound casual.
“Yeah, I mean good riddance you know. I swear to god I’m never getting a roommate again. I’ll live in a piano crate under a bridge, I don’t care…” She carried on talking, but my mind was long gone. Becky had said she was heading out to Dogwood Forest today. She had said it was a bachelorette. Slowly, the details of our discussion came clicking into place.
“When did she say she was coming back?” I blurted.
“Um, what?”
“I just meant, did she tell you when she was coming back from her hike?”
Silence.
“Hike? I don’t know that she’s on a hike. Hey, do you… do you know Becky?”
Shit.
“No, what? Sorry, I misunderstood, sorry. Look, I’m just a little distracted right now and…”
She gave a dry, cynical laugh.
“Hey, keep up now. You know this isn’t Tash, right?” she teased. My skin burnt hot. This mission should have been aborted a long time ago, why was I still doing this? Everything was all wrong.
“Yeah, um, Kirsten? This is awkward I know, and I hate to do this over the phone, but…”
“Please, don’t dare finish that sentence,” she said quickly.
“It’s just that if I can be honest I’m not really looking for anything serious right now…”
She laughed out loud this time.
“Oh really? You aren’t, huh? I could have died from that surprise!” she said, her contempt hidden only by a thin layer of amusement.
“Hey, come on, don’t be mean,” I said quietly. I didn’t like this one bit.
“But am I being mean? God knows I have self-esteem problems, sure, but any idiot can see that there’s nothing serious about you.”
“I just mean that I’m not really in a place in my life—”
“Oh please. You just wanted to see where things went? No pressure? Let me guess, you just wanted to keep things simple, right?”
“Well…”
“Yawn, boring.”
I stammered, trying to think of what to say. I had un-charmed myself from as many girls as I had charmed, but I had never had to let a girl down like this only to have her laugh in my face.
“Look, Hugo, be realistic. I knew you were just looking for a fling that night. You just used me, I know that.”
“No, that’s not true, I—”
“Why don’t you just admit it? I don’t care anyway. You’re a player with the emotional IQ of a brick, trust me, I didn’t dare expect anything else from you.”
Something hard and unpleasant knotted up in the center of my chest. Fine, she was right. I was a despicable man-child with a shameful history with women. Yes, I admit it all. I was an immature asshole and I deserved every bit of scorn she could muster for me.
“So…why are you calling me then?” I said, trying my best to conceal the waver in my voice.
She sighed and laughed again.
“I don’t know. Masochist? Maybe the same reason you talked me into coming home with me that night. Boredom.”
“Ok, I wasn’t bored. I’m sorry this has ended a bit awkwardly but I never made you any promises, it was just some fun, it wasn’t serious. I’m enjoying my life. I love women…”
Another laugh.
“Then why did you tell me you never felt like that before in your life? Why say that?”
I couldn’t find words.
“Why did you say I was beautiful? Why did you make it seem like something special was happening? Why did you lie?”
I said nothing.
“It was a bad idea to call, you’re right. Good luck out there,” she said.
I was about to say something when the phone went dead. I could charm women. I could buy them drinks and make their eyes sparkle. I could seduce them until they were purring like obedient little kittens in my arms, ready to do anything for me… but I didn’t have an answer for her question. Why lie? I had no idea.
I looked down at Becky’s notes in my hands, like they were accusing me. I squeezed my eyes shut again and tried to swallow down the lump in my throat. I don’t know how long I sat there for, my mind twisting in on itself. I just knew that this wasn’t what I wanted to be. I didn’t like this feeling, whatever it was. I was an asshole, I knew that, but was I really this bad? I rubbed my face with my hands and forced myself to dial a number on the phone. It only rang once.
“What?”
“You’re right.”
“I’m …right?”
“I’m a coward. I tell women what they want to hear because the truth is I don’t want to get to know them, I don’t want things to go further, I don’t want anything at all with them…”
“Ok, why are you telling me—”
“You asked me why I lie. I lie because I don’t really want to do it. Any of it. I’m an asshole. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I can’t allow myself to get close to other women because…”
The line was silent.
“Because I still want her.”
“Who…?”
“I’m sorry, Kirsten. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah okay, whatever.”
“I get it now. I was just going through the motions, but I never let it get serious, because I never forgot, not really. I never forgot…”
“Hugo? This is cool and all but I have to go.”
“I’m sorry.”
She hung up.
I took a deep, strange breath. I had to talk to Becky. Right now. I had to tell her everything. I was crazy to leave her, crazy to run away from something amazing just because I was scared, crazy to let her go on some stupid hiking trip I just knew in my heart was too dangerous for her…
I hastily returned the letters to their envelope and stuffed everything into my jacket. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew I had to go and find her. Now. Maybe it was something supernatural. Maybe it was fate, I don’t know. But my instincts told me that she needed me now, and I always trust my instincts.
I wasn’t about to let her down again.