Page 70 of Your Pace Or Mine

As she leaves, the only thought that runs through my mind is that I turned out like my father after all.

Post from Mr. Six:

Hey everyone! I’ve been a little under the weather lately so unfortunately my regularly scheduled reels didn’t get done. Here’s a photo from last weekend of my view at the baseball game. Go Jays! Hope to be back out there and making more content soon.

TWENTY-TWO

ASHLEY

I get three steps out of the pub before realizing my umbrella is back at the table. It’s still pouring, but there’s no way in hell I’m going back in there. Half a block later, the tears come. I’m already soaked, so it’s hard to tell how much of my wet face is rain and how much is from crying.

I walk aimlessly along Yonge Street sobbing, avoiding glances from passers-by, which is easy because the downpour means everyone is trying to get wherever they’re going as quickly as possible.

My only thought besides self-recrimination is that I need Laurel. Her apartment is close by, so I text her that I’m coming over, then walk there without waiting for a response. I need her to be there, so I don’t think about her not being available.

I slip through her lobby doors behind a delivery person. On the way up to the seventeenth floor, I’m certain the DoorDash guy sharing the elevator is discomfited by my sniffling. I want to tell him that I’m not sick, but the elevator stops before I can open my mouth.

Pausing outside the apartment door for a moment, I try to pull myself together, then knock. I’ve still got a spare key—in the past I would have gone in without knocking if she knew I was coming—but it feels weird now that Cal lives here.

Laurel’s eyes widen at my soaked appearance. She grabs a beach towel from the front closet as she ushers me in. I give a small smile despite myself. Of course a person who runs outside in all kinds of weather would keep a towel by the door, just in case. Cal waves from the sofa where he’s lounging in sweatpants and a Pink Floyd T-shirt.

“I don’t want to impose,” I mumble, overwhelmed with shame that I’ve shoved myself into their domestic bliss while I drip rain on their tiles. “I can go home.”

Laurel furrows her brow. “Ash, you aren’t imposing. You’re always welcome here. Cal can hide in the bedroom if you want to talk to me alone. Or the two of us can go into the bedroom for more privacy.”

An image of their new bed flits across my mind and I recall everything she told me about how they broke in their new furniture. “Let’s stay out here. I don’t think I want to hang out in your sex den.”

She snorts. “Bold of you to assume we only have sex in the bedroom.”

Cal turns bright red and mumbles something like “Was that necessary?” Then he gathers his computer and vanishes through the bedroom door.

Laurel pulls me onto the couch, still wrapped in a towel, and lets me lean on her shoulder while I cry. The story comes out in bits and pieces. She doesn’t say I told you so, she just listens while I spill about how stupid I’ve been to get fooled again, and how now I’ve lost not only the person I love, but one of my oldest friends. At some point, Cal emerges with dry clothes and whispers that he’s ordered two pizzas before disappearing back into the bedroom. He’s a keeper, that one.

“I didn’t realize you’d fallen so hard, Ash. I’m sorry he’s an idiot,” Laurel says after I’ve changed into a pair of leggings and a Toronto Raptors hoodie, then rejoined her on the couch. “You really love him?”

“I do.” I’ve finally stopped crying, but I can’t keep the hitch out of my voice. “I’m so stupid.”

“No, you’re not.” She pulls me into a hug. “He doesn’t deserve you. Then again, that’s a high bar.”

Worried I might start to cry again, I shake my head.

“Why didn’t you tell me all of this?” Her eyes are bright with empathy. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you to share this with.”

“I knew you didn’t approve of our arrangement, so that was part of it.” I fiddle with a lock of my hair and look away. I’m embarrassed to admit the rest. “Also, I didn’t want to tell you until it was official. I felt silly, like a kid with a crush when you have a real relationship and real issues to navigate, not like me and Sebastian and our teenage drama.”

“Ashley.” Laurel’s face falls. I didn’t mean to upset her too. What a mess I am today.

“Firstly, it’s not that I disapprove. I was wary because I didn’t want you to get hurt, but you don’t need me to greenlight your relationships.” She squeezes my hand. “But secondly, your problems are as real as mine. Just because I’m in a serious relationship doesn’t mean I’m too busy for you and your love life now. I never meant to make you feel that way, and I’m sorry.”

Now we’re both crying. I reach out to hug her again. As easy as it would be to brush things off, it’s time to be honest about everything. “You were so focused on the move and Cal getting settled that I started to wonder if maybe you didn’t need me anymore, if I was in the way.”

“I’m so sorry.” Laurel strokes my damp hair as I lean on her shoulder. “I could tell things were weird, but I didn’t want to push so I waited it out. I should have tried harder.”

“I was afraid of bothering you,” I admit, “I should have talked to you and not been a brat, but instead I felt sorry for myself. I just miss spending time together.”

“It hasn’t been easy, trying to balance everything,” she says with a sigh. “Once Cal and I got together, things happened so fast. Suddenly we were always together, and any time you add a person or anything extra into your life, you have less space for others. Then with the move, things got more intense. I’m not used to having someone else to think about all the time, and it’s been an adjustment.”

I pull away to look straight at her. I realize that once again, I’ve assumed everything was smooth sailing for them. I never checked in about how she was dealing with all these life changes, and my face heats up with shame at the thought.