Page 26 of Unexpected Boyfriends

Melinda grew up on the beaches like me, but she married a guy from out west and moved out there years ago.

“Could be a small reminder of what you’re missing?” I suggest,forcing my lips into a smile that I know doesn't reach my eyes. It's the best I can do though.

“Yeah,” she says and pulls a glum face. I know it’s fake. She loves her husband and the connectedness of his big family and she doesn’t regret moving at all.

She takes my hand and drags me towards the village centre where there are other homewares stores waiting to sell their goods to tourists whose normal thrift has relaxed in the happy vibes of a beachside holiday. I try to focus on my cousin and her shopping, but it’s difficult, because I’m silently wallowing.

As we approach the crossroads, my heart sinks even lower. Justin has crossed over and is walking up the street towards us, alone. He doesn’t appear to have seen us yet, and like a coward I look around to see if there’s a shop we can disappear into. There isn’t.

He's not really paying attention to where he is and I think he’s going to walk right past us, when suddenly he notices us, and stops dead in his tracks. For a moment there’s nothing else in the world. Just him and me, and all the said and unsaid things between us. And four years. Four fucking years.

“Hey,” I say, in a voice half-choked by unwanted emotions.

I can't see his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, but then he looks down... at my hand still clasped in Melinda’s.

He makes a strange sound, somewhere between a sob and a choke, turns away and walks off without saying anything. I watch him as he goes, but he never looks back.

Melinda and I resume walking the other way towards the centre of town.

After a few minutes, she says, “What was that about?”

“What do you mean?” I stall, not wanting to open this Pandora’s box of emotions, the lid of which I’d been trying to keep firmly sealed.

“Don’t play dumb,” she insists. “You know exactly what I mean. That guy. What was that about?”

“Oh, nothing. Just a guy I had a thing with, but I called it off. Guess he’s not very happy with me.” I make a pretense of being dismissive.

“You called it off?” Melinda snorts in disbelief. “I would have guessed it was the other way round.”

I stare at her. “What do you mean?”

“I saw how you looked at him, cuz. I’ve never seen you look at a guy like that. Not ever.”

Fuck. She's right. I haven't felt like this over anyone before. Suddenly I can’t hold myself up, the walls that have been shielding me from my emotions crumbling. I stumble. Seeing my distress, Melinda pulls me down onto a bench seat at the side of the road.

“Itwassomething,” I whisper, head bowed.

She continues holding my hand while I try to pull myself together, then she gently asks, “What happened, Axel? If it really was you that called it off, why’d you do it? You obviously didn’t want to.”

“He’s only eighteen,” I struggle to speak though the tears choking me. “That’s a hell of an age gap.”

“Not so much as you get older,” she points out.

“Maybe,” I say doubtfully, “but who knows their mind at eighteen?”

“Some of us do,” she insists, reminding me that she met Damien when she was sixteen, and here they are still together ten years later and happily married.

I think about that for a moment.

“There’s also the fact he’s only just turned eighteen, and I’m twenty-two. Aren’t there laws against that sort of thing?”

“Well… I don’t know. There used to be. I remember having this discussion with one of my friends back when we were in high school,” Melinda says thoughtfully, “but it might have changed now. A lot has changed.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Anyway, you know, it doesn’t have to stop you,” Melinda adds.

“What doesn’t?”

---