Page 55 of Choose Us
“I guess she realised I wasn’t emotionally available. Apparently that’s kind of a deal breaker.” I wasn’t about to get into the birthday party letter scenario.
“Oh.” Brooke took another long sip of her latte. “But youliked her?”
“Sure.” I looked up at the clear blue sky.
“That’s the kind of response you give when you get asked if you enjoyed watching a movie at the cinema.”She laughed.
“I don’t know what else you want me to say.”I shrugged.
“Is she funny? Is she adventurous? Could you see yourself together one day? Is she kind? Does she like sports? Fashion?”
“Why are you pushing me?” I asked.
“I’m not. I just want to know whatshe’s like.”
“Well, she’s all of those things, I guess.”
Brooke rolled her eyes at my lackof response.
“How about what sheisn’t then?”
I couldn’t understand why she was fishing so hard for answers, and I was battling with just how honest I should be. Rather than beat around the bush, I said the first thing that came to mind, and it was thewhole truth.
“She’s notyou.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
How do you know if you truly love someone?
There were a few tell-tale signs I immediately thought of. You think about them constantly, want to spend as much time with them as possible, and you don’t see a future without them in it. You smile awkwardly for no reason; you laugh uncontrollably at things that aren’t funny. You become a happier person. I know what that feels like. I felt it in my first relationship with Danielle, and I felt itwith Brooke.
Loving someone you can’t have was a whole different ball game. It was like taking a case and finding out the client I’ve been hired to defend was guilty. My job was to win the case, despite the odds and my opinions. It was tough, sometimes soul destroying, but it was my job. It was the career I’d chosen, and like anything, there came good with the bad, and I could change it if I chose to do so. I could opt out, find another job, retrain, and push myself to succeed in another field.
It was similar to relationships, I guess. When things didn’t work out, we mourned the loss, and then we moved on. We tried again, learned from our previous relationships, and tried to succeed the next time.
Problems arose from unnatural endings. When two people were torn apart through outside influences, tragedy, or misconception, things could get complicated. I once had a client who’d lost his wife. She was only twenty-nine years old. It was a tragic car accident caused by a drunk driver. I remembered that case vividly. I remembered asking him what the loss meant to him, and how it affected his life. Those may seem like stupid questions with obvious answers, but how he answered stuck with me. He didn’t say,I’m heartbroken,I miss her, orLife isn’t the same without her. All valid things to say, and more than likely true; instead, what he said struck meto my core.
“I will never be able to breathe the same again. I’m numb now physically and mentally. I wander through life with little knowledge of what is happening around me. I feel sorry for my family, my friends, and the future partner I may one day have. The day my wife died my life changed forever. I will never enjoy life the way I did for the first thirty years. I still laugh and smile, but there’s a deep sadness in place of what once was happiness, a sadness that exudes from my body like blood oozing from my veins. It’s constant, and that’s my reality now, but I have no regrets. I found my soulmate, and I will be eternally grateful.”
The words brought tears to my eyes back then, but what I remember most was the uninhabited look on his face. The soft smile he put on to try and deceive everyone around him. The blank stare that flickered from left to right. He couldn’t hold eye contact for fear I’d see the pain behind his eyes.
Brooke was doing the same thing. After my off the cuff but truthful comment she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room. Five minutes later she hadn’t returned. I thought about the stereotypical first date scenario where the person climbs out the bathroom window and never returns. The chime of the door sounded and out walked Brooke.
“I thought you’d ditched me,” I joked.
“Of course not. I was asking the owner how they make that coffee; it was incredible.” Her eyes looked red, she’d been crying, but I didn’t make it obvious I noticed.
“Where to next?” I asked.
She linked arms with me. “We need to head back to Tsukiji Station. We’re going to a place that does the bestmelon pan.”
Just like that, we both ignored the hurt once again, and chose to move on with the day.
We took the train to Ginza. On route Brooke explained melon pan. It was essentially bread with a sugary crust, and it was filled with melon flavoured cream. I pictured a doughnut, but she assured me it wasway better.
“You know a lot, considering you’ve only been here two years. You’re a goodtour guide.”
She shrugged. “I tried to explore as much as I could when I first got here. I had a lot of free time. I spent weeks riding around on the trains and figuring it out. Then, when I met Takara... Well, she showed mea lot too.”
