MEGAN
“Thank you for stopping by, Lila,’’ I said and hugged her one last time, smiling sadly when at first she stiffened before she hugged me back. It brought another bout of tears to my eyes.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?’’ she asked me softly, worry impossible to miss in the way her delicate eyebrows bunched over her eyes and the flat line of her mouth.
Even in the complicated marriage with my brother and what must be quite the circus between them, she was here to comfort me, bringing me coffee and sweets to help soothe me. That hour spent with her truly helped, shedding me of my self-imposed loneliness to open up enough to share the burden of my pain and feelings. While it didn’t do miracles, it did help. I don’t feel like screaming in pain and agony anymore or staying under my covers for the whole day when life wasn’t waiting for me. It’s been almost twenty-four hours already anyway. I couldn’t spend my life crying over myself because I was stupid enough to feed these ludicrous feelings for a man who would never see me like someone other than his best friend’s young sister and a ‘kid.’ And it was without broaching the subject of his apparent disinterest in settling down or at least giving it a try at a serious relationship in which commitment lasted more than a month or two.
“I have a broken heart. It’s not like we don’t all get at least one. I’ll be fine.’’
She looked away then and nodded before forcing one last time a smile for me and walking away to the elevator waiting for her. Frowning, I closed the door once Lila stepped into the elevator and I leaned against it.
Even if I knew a broken heart was common as sad as it was, it didn’t make it any easier to breathe through it without crumbling. And that was without saying that looking on the bright side, letting silly hope or optimism out was out of the question for now.
I was empty of everything but that throbbing pain I brought on myself.
My cell phone started ringing on the coffee table I got from a thrift shop last month. With a sigh, I walked to it, shoulders slouching further when I saw that it was my mom calling. She always seemed to have some kind of sixth sense when her kids weren’t well, and it started after Max’s death.
“Hello, Mom. I wasn’t expecting your call.’’
“Bonjour, ma chérie. I don’t need to schedule my calls with you now, do I?’’ Her French accent warmed my ears and comforted me immediately. It reminded me of the times when she would hug me whenever I was sad. My mother, even after so many years living in the United States of America, hadn’t been able to shed her French accent. She would never admit it, but I bet she had never tried. She preferred to hang onto that part of her after leaving so much behind to build a life with Dad. That was true love. After everything our family went through, they were still together even though they looked nothing like the couple they used to be before Max’s accident. We were all different, anyway. Changed.
“You know it’s not what I meant,’’ I said and sat on the couch, frowning when the remote bit into my asscheek and it stopped the Gilmore Girls episode on Netflix to forward to the next. “Is everything okay?’’
“Is it?’’ she asked back with the kind of inflection I knew by heart. That was usually when she prompted me into sharing something about my life I had no interest in sharing until she asked me and I couldn’t deny her. That was probably because I knew how sad it made her that Mathis always kept her at arms’ length when he used to talk our ears off back when he was a kid. Now, I was the only one who let in on my life, and for the most part, it was good to have someone to talk to. While I didn’t trust most of my friends, I did my mom blindly. I trusted family blindly and maybe that’s also why I took a liking to Lila so fast. She was a Grimes now, no matter what her marriage to Mathis would become.
“It looks like you want to know something.’’
She clacked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, just like she always does when she’s running out of patience. “Megan, ma chérie, by now you should know you can’t hide anything from me.’’
Beads of sweat glided down the back of my exposed neck, sticking to my skin a few strands that fell out of my messy bun on top of my head. I had thought my heart was decimated, and nothing was left in my chest other than a gaping hole, but the sudden seizure in there told me something else.
“What?’’ I choked out, clearing my throat just afterward to cover my nerves and how scared I was at the prospect of anybody discovering how humiliating my infatuation for Chance Atwood was. And if my mom knew about it, it was only a matter of time until she slipped and said something to Mathis. My shame would be complete, and I could think about moving to another country, maybe crashing at my cousin’s, Béatrice, in France.
“The other night Lila said you were on a date. How was it? I didn’t know you were dating someone. Tell me everything about him.’’
And just like that, I could breathe again. “Oh, hm… It didn’t pan out, so there’s nothing to say.’’
I grabbed the remote after some expert twisting on the couch to get it from under my butt and changed back to the previous episode of Gilmore Girls. I was so focused on my task that I didn’t notice the lengthy silence over the phone until it was too late.
Sylvie Grimes was nothing if not perceptive.
“You’d tell me if that man did something to you, wouldn’t you?’’
“Of course, Mom. You know it.’’
“Pff, with you, kids, I don’t know anything anymore.’’ She sighed down the phone, but I knew it was a way of teasing me instead of berating me. “But you’re still hiding something. You sound tired.’’
“Mom…’’ I trailed off in annoyance and stabbed on the volume button to turn up the sound of the TV, just as Rory’s voice fighting with Dean went higher than usual.
“Are you watching that show with the silly women?’’
“They’re not silly and it’s a great show.’’ I glared at the TV and threw the remote on the couch next to me. “You’ve never watched Gilmore Girls anyway.’’
“No, but I remember that you watch it whenever you’re sad. If you don’t tell me what it is about, I’ll get a cab and knock at your door.’’
I rolled my eyes and pushed through the prickling in them as my living room blurred. “I don’t want to talk about it. Let me… Give me some time and I’ll tell you, okay?’’
“Megan—‘’
“No, Mom. Please. I feel stupid and hurt. That’s not something I want to talk about, but don’t worry. Lila was here earlier, so it’s not like I’ve spent my day wallowing in my apartment with the curtains drawn.’’
“Lila is amazing and I’m glad if you’ve let her in. I know you have a hard time with new people. You’re like Mathis that way, but I’m your mother, Megan. I worry.’’
The pain in my mother’s voice at the underlying meaning of her words tugged at me. She’s always been a very protective mother, the kind that could be smothering at times, but after what happened to Max, I knew her worry for Mathis and me went up even higher than it ever had. I couldn’t blame her and I understood where she came from.
“It’s just a broken heart from loving someone who doesn’t love me in return. It wasn’t a surprise, but I needed all hopes crushed once and for all to move on. That’s all, Mom. You can relax.’’
“Oh, ma chérie, I’m sorry. Chance is… hm… I mean, that man doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.’’
“Chance? How do you… Mom?’’ I stuttered, gripping the phone so tightly I wondered how it didn’t slip through my sweaty fingers. “Am I that obvious?’’
“I’ve always known about it, but no it’s not obvious. You’re my daughter and I’ve always sensed your feelings for him. But you shouldn’t take it so hard. He’s never had a reason to see you as someone other than Mathis’ sister.’’
“It won’t change a thing, Mom. You should have seen his face!’’ I let out a pitiful sob and my mom started cooing down the phone to calm me down, just like she used to when I got upset as a kid. I’d always been pretty sensitive. “He was appalled.’’
“He was surprised.’’
“You weren’t there.’’
“You know, maybe I’m wrong.’’ That shut me up and I listened more attentively. “Maybe he won’t open his eyes and entertain the idea of something happening between you two, but I’ve been on this earth a lot longer than you have, ma chérie, and I know a thing or two about how men work. Don’t hide because you’re in pain and don’t feel ashamed because you took a chance. You have nothing to regret.’’
“What should I do then? It hurts. So much,’’ I whispered quietly, my free hand gripping my thigh covered by an old yoga pant so tightly my nails hurt.
“Love hurts, ma chérie, it hurts because you care, because it means that you’ve taken down all your shields and let out who you are at heart, but it also means that it has the potential to bring you the kind of happiness you crave and need to blossom to your full potential. It doesn’t have to be the love from another man, it can come from a family member or a friend, but love is a risk worth taking. Every. Single. Time.’’
“I don’t know. Look at my life. Nothing is going well.’’
“Don’t talk like that, Megan.’’
I dried my eyes when tears made a reappearance. Despair was my companion. “I’m single, I have no interest in the job opportunity I’m presented with, and I feel like I’m in a cage. I don’t know what to do.’’
“Hm… Maybe you need to take time off and think, ma chérie.’’ The worry in her voice only intensified the flow of my tears. I hated giving my mother reasons to be concerned with me. I’ve always been the good kid, the one who never made waves other than since my graduation from college and my incapacity to enjoy my jobs. Ever since I got my diploma I’ve been scattered, always jumping from job to job, restless in everything and unmotivated. Maybe my issues ran a lot deeper than my broken heart.
“Megan, are you still there?’’
I blinked and cleared my throat. “Yes. Sorry, I was lost in thoughts.’’
“Why don’t you leave for a few days and visit your cousin Béatrice? You two have always been close and you didn’t spend a lot of time together at Mathis’ wedding.’’
Béatrice was the youngest daughter of my mother’s sister. She lived in France in a gorgeous old neighborhood in Paris and she was only two years older than me. I’ve always envied her free spirit, her assurance in everything she put her mind to, starting with her art studies that ended up opening doors for her to a gallery where she worked now.
“Maybe. I don’t know. I have that job…’’
“You couldn’t sound less convincing if you tried,’’ she retorted when I trailed off. “It’s not running off if it means that you’re planning your future and the kind of life you want. You need direction and to mend your heart.’’
“It’s pathetic, isn’t it?’’
“Pathetic?’’ she exclaimed in a thick French accent. “It is not!. Ma chérie, you’re hurting. There’s no shame to have. None, you hear me?’’
“Yes. Alright.’’ I sighed the kind of sigh that came from deep within. “I think you’re right. I need to leave this city and…’’ I cleared my throat again before I choked on my words, “I can’t see Chance right now. Or Mathis.’’
As soon as my decision was made, the weight on my shoulders alleviated. It was still there, of course, but less constricting. The trouble was that it had no effect on the pain in my heart. That still throbbed and poisoned my whole self.
Time and distance. Maybe that would help.
***
CHANCE
Playing cat and mouse with your fucking best friend at work when he’s your boss because you’re so fucked up in the head from his little sister’s love declaration wasn’t easy. Damn, it was quite insane and gave me frazzled nerves.
These past twenty-four and some odd hours had been intense and made for enough stress that I considered asking for a leave of absence to properly get out of my head that fucked up lunch break with Megan. But asking for a leave of absence would be suspicious to Mathis who knew me too well. It wasn’t like I could barge into his office and spill Megan’s feelings for me and how I hurt her without meaning to.
Winning Mathis’s trust took an eternity, and while our friendship had been going for a really long time and we had shared a lot over the years, it wasn’t conventional. Mathis wasn’t the kind of man to call me to unload some shit going on over a few drinks and in turn, I wasn’t that kind of man either unless it was to share sex stories with him and have a good laugh over our shared viewpoint on relationships and sex.
Until he decided to marry for the sake of his business with a woman he basically purchased. I had thought it wouldn’t change the man, but I came to realize that marriage, even an unconventional one like Mathis and Lila’s, changed things. For instance, Mathis seemed pretty much obsessed with his wife, and it left me to my own device, now so fucking worried over Megan that I had no idea of what to do with myself. I didn’t even return the dirty texts from that woman from the wedding yesterday or today which ended with one last text that only held one word. Asshole.
I rubbed my eyes and closed my laptop’s lid just as my assistant packed her things and left with a wave for me.
I’d usually say something flirty just for the heck of it, but this time I kept my mouth shut and ignored the curious look on Alicia’s face. I was so out of it that I couldn’t find it in me to stand up and leave, not when Megan’s tearful brown eyes kept on appearing whenever I closed my eyes or blinked. She was every-fucking-where!
Shaking my head in annoyance at myself, I snatched my cell from my desk and then stopped myself. “You fucking moron,’’ I cursed myself aloud and rolled my eyes.
I had Mathis’ phone number. His mother’s and even his father’s, but I didn’t have Megan’s number.
I rubbed my forehead and cursed again. I’ve known Megan since she was a gangly teenager, but I didn’t have her number. At that very moment, right when I had convinced myself I’d text her to check up on her, I ended up with the realization that before yesterday, Megan had never registered on my radar. Not even as a friend. She had always been Mathis’ little sister, someone I felt only obligation to salute when I saw her because I was polite and for respect for my best friend.
That made me an asshole and a self-centered bastard.
“Chance.’’ Mathis’ voice coming from my office’s open door made me straighten up and push away the guilt plaguing me. When I took in my best friend’s usual closed off face and his harsh stare, I sweat under my perfectly tailored suit. In fact, at that moment as I imagined the kind of hell I’d be trapped in if or when he heard of what happened with Megan, I wanted to undo my tie and chuck it away to breathe easier. “What is it? Don’t fucking tell me there’s something wrong with Tober—‘’
“No, no,’’ I cut him off and pushed my back further into the chair, the only movement I dared as I schooled my face to my usual easy-going smile. “You should have married old Tober instead of your wife if you’re so obsessed.’’
Mathis’ glare was famous in the business world and beyond. It often made people shake in their boxers, but I was immune to him, or so I thought before Megan came into the picture.
“Shut up,’’ he grumbled darkly and then checked his watch. If it was possible, his mouth flattened further. Damn, his little wife did a number on him. My smile turned more genuine as amusement filled me and pushed away the tension that had been a constant this past day. “I’m leaving now. If there’s news about Tober and his company I want you to let me know ASAP. We need to stay on top of this shit or else that marriage was for nothing other than to please my mother,’’ he bit out and then without waiting for an answer, turned around. “And whatever has you twisted into knots, get it over with. You’re usually better at handling your women.’’
I blinked at the empty space where my best friend had been standing and then cringed.
If you only knew it was about your sister, man.
Absentmindedly, I snatched my phone and noticed Facebook notifications. Silently berating myself, I perused my Facebook feed and stopped on Megan’s status posted merely fourteen minutes ago.
Sometimes you need space to put things into perspective. Doesn’t hurt when you have family in a foreign country. #ParishereIcome
Shit.
She was leaving.
And that didn’t sit well with me.