Page 9 of Out of Focus

Stick up her ass. Prickly personality. You’re the proper British girl who’s never had a real man make her scream his name before. You’re so attracted to me that you get jealous of the women who take me to their beds.

“I’m not sure how this comparison between how you felt about Owen, a man you’ve always loved, and Rafael, a man I have only ever barely tolerated, makes sense. But I hear you on being honest with my feelings.” My last conversation with Robert comes to mind, and my stomach lurches at the thought of bringing him up. Maeve can’t stand the guy. “I talked to Robert the other day. He wants me back in London. He keeps insisting that he’s ready now.”

“Ready? For what? To stop dicking you around?” The protectiveness in her tone is the same one she always takes on when we discuss him.

“It seems so, yes. His father is stepping down, and Robert wants the CEO position. He wants me as CFO, and says he’s ready for our relationship to move forward?—”

“Your relationship?” Maeve drags out the word, her voice going up an octave or two. “What relationship? He’s been promising you the world for years while he sleeps with anything that will open its legs to him. Except you, that is.” I wince at the description, accurate as it may be. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Char. That was too harsh, I just?—”

“I know. I know. You want more for me.” I blow out a long breath. “I think I want more for me too. I think that’s why it’s been so difficult to write anything. I used to be able to pretend that these happily ever afters were Robert and me. That one day, we’d end up like my characters. But it’s getting harder and harder to imagine that life. And now that he’s offering it to me, I keep thinking that maybe…” Can I say it? Can I be really honest with myself and with my sister?

“Maybe what, sissy?” Her gentle voice is hopeful for what’s next.

“Maybe there’s more for me than being a CFO in London. Maybe being married to Robert isn’t where I’m supposed to end up. I don’t know. I’ve had my whole life laid out in one clear path for a long time, and suddenly, it feels like there’s a fork in the road, and that fork leads to another and another and another. It feels like…” I’m not sure what.

“Like you have endless options? Because you do, Charlie. You can do anything you want to do.” I nod because I know she’s right. I’ve told her the same thing countless times.

“I’m just not sure what it is I really want anymore.” The admission feels bitter on my tongue, laced with this sour, rotten truth that I’m forced to swallow. Because it is true. I don’t know, and the unknown has never been a place of comfort for me. I plan, I execute, I achieve, and I move on to the next thing. My life has been a series of boxes neatly ticked off, but now, as I’m being handed a shiny new marker to tick off the husband box with, I’m ringed with doubt. Not in myself, but in the option I’ve been presented with.

“I’m here for you. Always. Regardless of what or whom you choose.” Without a doubt, my sister is biting her tongue on the other end of the line, holding back the part where she says she hopes it isn’t Robert. The fact that she doesn’t say it, though, that she remains steady in her decision to support me despite her own personal feelings, makes my love for her grow even stronger. A feat I didn’t realize was possible.

“I know, Mae. Thank you. And I’m sorry.” I press on my forehead as if the motion will wipe away the tension there. “I didn’t even ask how you’re doing. How Julia is. How you’re feeling.” I have no idea what being pregnant is like, and I hope I never find out, but I love living vicariously through my sister and Elaina as they experience motherhood.

“I’m fine. Jules is great. Everything is okay. You don’t need to be sorry. I’m happy I called and we got to talk about this. I knew something deeper was going on when you decided to come to Cali, and I feel much better now that I know.” Guilt pours over me for causing my sister to worry at such a precarious time in her own life. “Really, Char, I’m so glad you told me.”

“I know. Love you most, sissy,” I say as I need to end this conversation and release some pent-up energy.

“Love you most, Char. See you Sunday.”

We hang up, and I throw my trainers on, heading out the door for a walk.

6/

like several inferior versions of ross geller.

rafael

one year ago - the second nye

I’ve always loved New Year’s Eve. Not because of the parties or the ball drops or fireworks or whatever. But because I love how hopeful people are at this time of year. December is full of anticipation, and January is full of promise.

I should be happier today. My best friend and the girl I love like a little sister just got engaged. They’re ridiculously happy and in love, and yet something just isn’t sitting right. It has nothing to do with them. It has everything to do with me. And my memories of this day a year ago.

Charlie doesn’t like me; I already knew that. I knew she had a hard time being near me, and I thought teasing her about it would get us to clear the air a little. Maybe I pushed it too far that night, but I didn’t think she’d go off on me like that. Somehow, she hit on all my insecurities without even trying. The words stung like rubbing alcohol on an open wound.

You probably peaked in high school. Your little girlfriends probably did your homework for you because you were too dense to figure it out yourself. You wear your conquests like a badge of honor because you have nothing else to be proud of.

I’ve thought about Charlie’s heated words countless times this year. At first, I kept my distance from her and made myself scarce whenever she was around. I know she’s the kind of person who sees people for what and who they are, so the fact that she saw that in me really fucking sucks. I’m told I’m a pretty optimistic and easygoing guy, even if it doesn’t always feel that way inside my body, so I’ve done my best to let it go, or at least make it look like I did. I’m not even sure Charlie remembers the conversation, so it seems better to pretend it never happened.

We went back to our normal banter, eventually. I still really like seeing the blush creep across her neck and cheeks whenever I call her Chuck or make any mention of her having a secret crush on me. Maybe I even like it too much. Charlotte Howard would never in a million years go for a guy like me, though, and that’s always been just fine with me.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that, bro.

Elaina’s approaching smiling face momentarily distracts me away from thoughts of Charlie, and I’m grateful for it. Lainey’s only a couple of years younger than me, and ever since I met her while serving in the Marines with her brother Owen, she’s been like a sister to me, too. And now, all these years later, she’s marrying my best friend. I reach out to her and twirl her around to the beat of the music. She squeals, and it makes me laugh, which feels good.

“Okay, okay. That’s enough spinning, Raf. I gotta sit down.” Elaina hugs me quickly and plops onto a nearby chair. I look up to see Charlie scowling at me from the bar. She quickly looks away, but I don’t.

“What is it with you two?” Elaina glances over at Charlie and back at me as she catches her breath. Of course she noticed. “Hasn’t this little hating game gone on long enough?”

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