Happy Again (This is What Happy Looks Like #1.5)(15)

“I wish you had.”

“It hurt too much,” he said, his eyes on the ground. “Writing to you.”

She stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“There was so much I was trying not to say. I guess it was easier to talk about nothing than about how much I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she said, her heart tumbling around in her chest at the thought of all that lost time. They’d both been trying to protect themselves, and in doing so, had managed to push each other away. And now it was too late.

“And besides,” Graham was saying, “I figured you were better off without me and all my craziness.”

Ellie sighed. “I happen to like you and your craziness.”

They both fell silent, looking out at the trees and the pond and the silhouettes of the people walking over the footbridge on the far side of it.

“Maybe we peaked last summer,” he said after a moment. “Maybe we’ll never be that happy again.”

In spite of herself, Ellie laughed. “There’s a cheerful thought.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You know how I always think of my life in terms of before and after—”

“The first movie?”

“Yeah. But lately I’ve been thinking about you too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like…before and after you.”

Ellie blinked at him, suddenly annoyed again. “Then you should’ve tried harder. You should’ve come to visit. Or said something sooner. You should’ve done something.”

A couple in dark jackets walked past, but they didn’t look over. This was clearly a city used to minding its own business, and the anonymity of the place gave Ellie a little thrill. Even without his hat, it was too dark now to see Graham clearly. They were just another couple having an argument in the park tonight.

“Why didn’t you?” he asked, standing abruptly.

“My life got split too,” she said, rising to her feet as well. “That was the old me. That’s not…that’s not me anymore. At least I don’t want it to be.”

He looked confused. “So who are you now, then?”

“I’m not someone who falls for movie stars,” she said, giving him a stubborn look. “And I’m not someone who waits around for them to write back. I don’t want to go to premieres, and I don’t want to be reading gossip blogs or those stupid magazines at the grocery store. I don’t want to care about any of this stuff.”

Graham looked at her evenly. “You mean you don’t want to care about me.”

“It makes no sense,” she said, her voice cracking a little. “You and me.”

“I know that,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand, and the feel of his skin on hers nearly knocked the breath right out of her. “Sort of. But sometimes I think…”

“What?”

“That maybe it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Ellie glanced down at their hands, which were swaying between them, and below that, to Graham’s shoes, shiny even in the dark. Around them, there was the rustle of leaves, and beyond that the muffled hum of the rest of the city, punctuated by the occasional honk of a car horn. Across the pond, another couple was perched on the bridge, but otherwise it was just the two of them here in this quiet oasis, where Ellie could hear her own heart beating, could feel the pulse in Graham’s hand, could picture what would happen if she were to tip her head back right now to look up at him.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she cleared her throat. “Look, I know it’s not fair to you—”

“Ellie…”

“It’s not who you are, all that craziness. I get it. But it is your life,” she continued, her head still bowed. “And the hardest part isn’t the travel or the cameras or the press, you know? It’s the rest of it. The waiting and worrying and wondering. I don’t want that, and I know it’s ridiculous for someone like me to be saying that to someone like you, but I’m just not sure I could—”

“Ellie,” he said again, and this time, he stooped so that she was forced to look at him, and something in his eyes stopped her short. “I’m not asking you for anything.”

She stiffened. “I know.”

“I know how hard that would be,” he said. “How unrealistic.”

“This isn’t a movie,” she reminded him—reminded herself—and he gave her a weak smile.

“I know that too,” he said. “I just wanted to…”

“What?”

He gave her hand a squeeze, just the smallest bit of pressure in the center of her palm, but Ellie felt it travel up her arm like an electric current. She hadn’t realized how cold she was, but now she started to shake, and Graham dropped her hand, taking off his jacket and swinging it over her shoulders.

When she pulled her arms through, the sleeves were much too long, and without saying anything, he began to roll them up for her, one at a time, which for some reason made her feel like crying.

“It was real,” she said, her voice thick. “Wasn’t it?”

He looked up at her. “What was?”

“Us,” she said. “Last summer.”