The Space Between Us(79)
We silently fell in to step with one another, walking along the path of the park that wound around the perimeter. Neither one of us spoke. We just kept walking. Eventually we came to the gazebo and I closed my eyes for just an instant to push back the memory of a young girl and a young boy standing in that gazebo sharing a kiss, breaking boundaries, giving in to something that had been building between them. I opened my eyes to see Asher, grown and even more handsome, staring back at me from inside, the pond his background.
I walked towards him, without even thinking about it, and we stood next to each other against the railing, like we had a thousand times before. Only now, his arms weren’t around me and I wasn’t lost in his scent. I was, however, ridiculously aware of the space between us. Just inches separated us, and if I leaned my head over, it would rest against his arm. I had done that in the past, in this very spot. This was getting a little surreal, even for me.
“I’m so sorry, Charlie.” He spoke suddenly and it caught me off guard. His tone was serious and I looked over at him, only to see so much sadness in his eyes. Instinctually I moved towards him, closing the distance between us and placed a hand on his forearm that rested against the railing. “I wish I could take back everything I said to you that day. I wish I could just go back and start over, you know?” He looked to me and I couldn’t help but nod. I kind of wished he could have a do-over too. I wished everything was different.
“I was supposed to be the one person you could count on, the one person who was supposed to stand next to you through everything, and I managed to f*ck up the very first time we were faced with anything of importance.” He sniffled and rubbed his hands together, his head bent down, trying to compose himself. “I was a stupid nineteen-year-old boy. The very last thing I ever expected you to tell me was that you were pregnant, Charlie. And when I heard those words: pregnant, baby, adoption. Fuck, I shut down. I wish to God I hadn’t. I wish everything was different. But it’s not. What happened, happened. All I can say is that I’m sorry.” He looked up at me and I was stunned by how much grief I saw reflected back at me.
“It’s ok,” I said. Those were words I never thought I’d say to him. I never thought it would be ok. Ever. “We were both young and inexperienced. It was a less than ideal situation and we handled it the way young people ought to, with fear and panic.”
“Please don’t make excuses for me, Charlie. I should have been there for you. I should have swallowed my fear and stayed by your side. I should have been there when you lost the baby.” His words were lost in quiet sobs and I tried hard to hold my own back, but there was something so entirely damaged about him in this moment. He was vulnerable and cracked, and for a moment I saw my best friend and wanted to comfort him. I pulled him into me and he came, willingly. I wrapped my arms around his neck and his arms came around my waist and we stood there, comforting each other for a while.
Every once in a while he mumbled an “I’m sorry,” and I hushed him and responded with a soft, “It’s ok.” Eventually he pulled away from me, wiping his eyes and taking deep breaths.
“Wow,” he said through his hands that were covering his face. “I feel like that was a long time coming.”
I didn’t know what to say. I honestly felt like I could forgive the nineteen-year-old who had made a mistake in a moment of high stress. He didn’t react to a pregnancy any differently than many boys his age would have. Was it shitty? Yes. Could I forgive him, years later, for it? I knew I could. I could let that one piece of heaviness off of my chest. But I knew I needed to give my own apology.
“Asher, there’s something I need to tell you.” My eyes were on the pond, but I knew he turned to me, his cheeks still wet from tears, eyes red from crying. “I haven’t told anyone this, so you’ll have to forgive me if it’s difficult.” I looked down and my hands clasped together, holding me up against the railing. “When I was losing the pregnancy,” my voice shuddered. I shook my head, trying to shake off all the guilt and shame I felt for so long. I raised my head and looked Asher right in his beautiful gray eyes. “When I was having the miscarriage,” I began again, “in the hospital, they gave me an ultrasound. They were trying to figure out what was wrong.” I took in a deep breath, readying myself to say the words I avoided for so long. “I could see them, Asher, both of them.” His eyebrows scrunched in confusion, not understanding me. “I was pregnant with two babies. Twins. I lost them both.” My last words were lost in my cries, unable to hold them back as I had hoped, but also I was muffled by Asher pulling me into him. He held me, comforted me. And in that moment I allowed myself to feel it. I allowed myself to get lost in the feeling of his arms wrapped around me.
This was all I ever wished for. All I ever wanted was for Asher to be there for me, to share the pain with me. Now that he knew and he was here, I was equally upset by reliving the loss of my children as I was by the feeling of his arms encasing me. He put a piece of my soul back together and he didn’t even know it. There was no way for him to realize what this moment meant to me. I let myself feel all of it, wanted to ache from all the emotions running through me, wanted to be exhausted, for once, from feeling instead of hiding.
I hugged him harder and let myself cry into his chest. It was his turn to comfort me, running his hand through my hair, whispering apologies into my ear. I heard him and I felt him. With my eyes closed it was almost as if we were young again – two kids, in the throes of a passionate and all-consuming love. I wanted to go back to that time when we were young and in love and nothing could hold us down, before life’s tragedies took our sunshine, took our innocent love and made it dark and twisted.