Mine Would Be You (55)

“Hey, how are you?”

I nod and then remember she can’t see me. “I’m good. Work is crazy but good. How are you?” How is your marriage is the question I don’t ask.

She hesitates for a second. “Good, interesting.” She lets out a quiet, dry laugh as I cross the street. “I was wondering, are you free next Saturday, the 20th? For brunch maybe, and we can finally talk?”

Mentally I go over my calendar, and when nothing comes to mind, I smile even though she can’t see me. “Yeah, that’s perfect. I know this little spot in Lower East, Aroma Café. They’ve got great food—unless you had somewhere in mind?”

“No, no, that sounds perfect. How ‘bout twelve?”

“Sounds great, I’ll see you then?” I ask, picking up speed to descend the stairs to catch the subway train home.

“See you then. Thanks, Nina.” She says it softly, and we both say goodbye as I find a spot to stand on the crowded train.

The subway ride passes in its usual twenty-minute fashion. Maybe because I’m thinking about how Emma and Myles could be doing or because I’m so used to it, but either way, before I know it, I’m walking up the stairs of my apartment. As I turn the key and kick off my shoes to the smell of whatever Harper is cooking, I can’t get either of them out of my head.

I really hope Myles is doing something—anything—to apologize or make it up to her. Even if he is, I hope he knows he should continue to for a long time. After treating her like that in front of us, after treating all of us like that. I really, really, hope he reaches out to Jackson or at least grows up enough to hear him out. Myles could always hold a grudge; the silent treatment was his go-to, and it doesn’t seem like that’s changed at all.

I know for a fact, even though Jackson keeps up his smiles and bright energy, that his relationship—if you can still call it that—with Myles is taking a toll on him. I couldn’t care less if Myles ever talks to me again, whether it’s with an apology or to judge me for my choices again, but I do care about his relationship with Emma and Jackson.

Part of me wonders if I was no longer in the picture what would happen. Would us not dating anymore repair the relationship with his best friend that’s breaking at the cracks? Would the tension between Myles and Emma disappear?

Inwardly, I know it’s not really my fault, but I feel guilty for causing any trouble with him and Jackson. With him and Emma. None of this would be happening if I hadn’t been there that weekend.

And maybe this is all happening too soon.

A memory comes rushing back at the worst possible moment, attacking my brain when it’s vulnerable, playing on all my old anxieties.

“Myles, please. Can you just tell me I’m not crazy?” I plead, my eyes on his overturned phone. He’s been on it all night. When we got frozen yogurt sitting in the car, he was texting away in his left hand, holding it at an angle so I couldn’t see it.

When we were in line for the movies, he barely spoke to me. Didn’t hold my hand.

And he even answered a text message or two in the movie itself. Which he’s never done.

I know we were on a semi-break this last semester, whatever that means, but even now that he’s back for winter break, he’s not here. Physically he is. But mentally, he’s not with me. He’s with someone else.

“I’m not talking to anyone important, Nina. Jesus, don’t you trust me?” His tone is sharp and unforgiving.

I feel stupid for even bringing it up. I lean against his bedroom wall, staring to where he sits at the edge of the bed. Because I don’t trust him, not anymore.

“Are we even together anymore?”

He furrows his brow. “Come on . . .”

“Did you talk to other people? This fall,” I inhale, “I know we were technically not together, but did you?”

His hesitation is all I need. Apprehension is painted on his face, and my heart breaks again. All he’s done since he left for college is break my heart. Different pieces at different times. Sometimes he rebuilds them, picks them up and tapes them together, but now, I don’t think the pieces will ever be big enough to be put back together.

“Do you even love me anymore? Do you even want to be with me?” My voice shakes, and I hate it.

I hate how anxious I am for his answer, hate how despite my shattered heart, if he tells me he loves me I’ll sweep the pieces into his palms all over again and watch him break me more until I’m nothing but dust.

He meets my eyes; brown eyes I used to love now only make me want to cry. All he ever does is make me cry. I’ve never hated him so much and wanted him to love me so much at once. And I wait for the words, even if it’s a lie, that he loves me. Is still in love with me.

“I love you. I do.” The words are empty. “But I don’t know what I want anymore.”

My breath hitches, and it feels like I can’t breathe. I remember when he told me I was the only one, repeatedly. I was always the only one that he wanted for life.

But people change with the seasons, quicker than the summer temperatures hit the sky and the ground turns cold in the winter, covered in ice. I never expected Myles to change with them and to leave me here behind.

“You don’t know what you want?” My voice is dry. Lifeless.

He moves until he’s sitting in front of me, running his hands up my folded knees. “I don’t want to lose you, Nina. You’re still my best friend,”