Page 77 of Five Years
“You’re not.” Ariana reassured her. “Are you a factor? Sure, but you’ve always been a factor, Leah.”
“I don’t understand––”
“The reason we never got married, the reason I never wanted to get another dog after Lola passed. The reason we have a month-to-month tenancy agreement with our landlord. The reason we have no trips booked more than two months in advance. And––”
Leah listened intently, surprised by Ariana’s declaration.
“What?” Leah asked.
“You are the reason I still have an apartment in Michigan.” Ariana looked down at the pizza box.
“You have an apartment in Michigan? Since when? Grace never told me that.”
Grace told her everything; there’s no way she wouldn’t know if her sister had an apartment.
“I asked her not to. I bought it about twelve months after I moved to New York. I tried to sell it to myself and Hannah as some sort of an investment, a little nest egg for when we grew older, and if we ever chose to move back. I think I made myself believe that for a short while, but there’s a reason I never rented the apartment out, and there’s a reason the wardrobe in the spare bedroom is filled with boxes of your things.”
Leah’s eyes widened. “My things?”
“You told me to throw away anything that reminded me of you, but I couldn’t do that.”
“You kept everything?” Leah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. All these years she’d been pining after a relationship she thought was dead. She tried every which way to move on, to gain some form of clarity from the most heart-breaking time of her life, but now it made sense. There was a reason she could never fully move forward, an unknown pull, a sign from the universe that she’d never been able to explain, but it made sense now. Ariana had never fully moved on either. Like a decorated wall in her new apartment, the paint had simply been covered, but the remnants of the old colour would live there forever.
“Yes, I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of any of it.” Ariana admitted.
She scooted her chair further to the left so she was almost parallel with Leah. The pizzeria wasn’t the most appropriate place for a declaration of love, but in all honesty, Leah didn’t care. She looked into Ariana’s eyes and it didn’t matter, nothing else mattered, only that moment, the two of them, together once again, against the odds, it felt like a dream.
“I don’t know what to say,” Leah whispered.
“Say you’ll give things another go? Say you still love me...”
“I’ve always loved you, Ari.”
For Leah, that was the easy part. Loving Ariana came naturally. Accepting the end of their relationship and the betrayal she felt did not, that was the part she’d always struggled with.
“Why do I feel like there’s a but––” Ariana whispered.
“Do you want me to be honest?” Leah said.
She shuffled nervously in her seat. She glanced around the room, but nobody seemed to pay any attention to them; that was the beauty of New York. At every turn, there was something more entertaining than whatever you were experiencing in that moment, so even being amongst a crowd of people, there was still an element of privacy.
Ariana gulped.
“I have thought about this moment for over five years. I have pictured you attempting to win me back. I have dreamt about you turning up on my doorstep with a heartfelt apology and a movie-worthy declaration of love.”
“I can do movie-worthy,” Ariana said, softly.
Leah rested her hand on Ariana’s arm, a small chuckle escaping her lips at the sweetness. “I know. I guess, when I thought about that moment, I never thought about the destruction it would cause. I never thought about the scars of the past and whether they would fully be able to heal. I thought about only you...”
“But, isn’t that all that matters?” Ariana countered.
“Sure, in a perfect world.” Leah sighed. She had to be honest; there was no other alternative. “I worry that I might never be able to forgive you.”
There was the bombshell; the words left her mouth and hung in the void between their bodies. Ariana flinched, but the recovery was quick.
“Oh,” Ariana’s eyes glazed over. “I didn’t think about that.”
“I’m not saying I won’t be able to, but I worry that what if I can’t? What if we give this another try and I spend the whole time making you feel bad for leaving me.”
