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He dutifully keeps his hand in place while she continues to smile at him, reminding him there's life miraculously growing inside of her. He nods his head mechanically, not giving it more effort than he needs to. It's sad, heart-wrenching, painful to watch.
It's been three weeks.
Three weeks since he found out he'll be a dad in January.
Three weeks since I watched him sleep beside me half the night, wistfully thinking I could turn off the few feelings I still have for him. But there is no ON/OFF switch. There's just this little pang in my heart every time our eyes meet. And I don't know how to make it go away.
Matt looks behind Audra, catches my eye. I watch his heart break all over again. His face flashes with indescribable pain and his eyes droop. Because he doesn't want to be a dad. He doesn't want to be with Audra.
Every morning before school, when I walk to his Jeep, I have to prepare myself for the onslaught of apologies and lost puppy dog eyes and the reminder that he loves me. That he's still in love with me. That he'll find a way to make it all up to me.
I really wish he wouldn't.
It would be easier to move on if he wasn't begging me to forgive him, wait for him, help him out of this.
It's slowly killing me, watching him struggle and hurt and panic.
And my heart, my poor heart is so conflicted.
I love Matt, I do, but I don't want to be with him. I don't want to wait for him. I don't want him to apologize anymore. I just want all of it to stop.
Most of the time, I hold my ground pretty well, remind him we'll always be friends. That won't ever change. I tell him his new life in California will be great. Audra's parents are paying for a two-bedroom apartment close to both UCLA and Pepperdine. They'll live together, start a life together, welcome life into the world together. And neither of them will have to get a job. They'll only have to worry about going to school, basketball, and taking care of the baby. Audra's parents are taking care of everything else.
But after he drops her off every afternoon, I watch little pieces of Matt tear further apart. Watch him crack under the pressure of Audra's expectations. They're madly-in-love, going to get married and be a family. And the tired ache in my chest throbs for him.
I don't know how much more of this I can take. It's too much, just too damn much.
Audra leans over the center console, places a kiss on his smooth cheek as he starts the engine. He doesn't acknowledge her, doesn't act like he even noticed.
And Audra? She's so blind to it all. She's in her own little bubble, somehow convinced they'll be getting married in the summer next year, in her parents' backyard. She starts asking him what he thinks about colors and themes and white doves.
I shove my headphones into my ears, blast classic rock. The Police, Queen and Joan Jett are too loud, too upbeat, too distracting to hear what Audra's dress will look like. How she'll wear her hair. Who Matt's best man will be.
I close my eyes, lean my head back against the hard headrest, imagine Kyle sitting next to me, his fingers looping lazily in mine.
Somehow, the thought of him close by drowns out the static, the white noise.
I think I might have hurt him and that's why he won't talk to me. Why he's giving me space. Why he left me the way he did.
I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing with all this time apart. I guess dealing with my feelings for Matt. But how is anyone supposed to handle all these annoying, pesky emotions when Matt's stupid choices are shoved down my throat day after day?
It's too dark and heavy and pitiful.
I just wish...I just wish Kyle would say something to me. Anything. Yell at me. Or tell me what a terrible person I am. Scream that I'm an idiot for kissing Matt when I could have had him.
I'd happily welcome his anger instead of the lonely, deafening silence he's left me with.
I texted him. Ten days ago. Just five words.
I miss you so much.
A day later, he responded.
Miss you, too.
Other than that, it's been three weeks of radio silence. Three weeks of wishing he would wrap his arms around me, hold me tight, tell me everything's going to work itself out. Even if it doesn't.
He said he'd call, but he hasn't.
