And yet.
And yet.
***
When Shelly asks me if there's any possible way I can make it in a little early on a Wednesday, I actually run it by my boss, and he says of course I can. There's a truck coming with a massive load of donations and they need all the help they can get to unpack and organize it.
I'm ready to spend a few hours embroiled in backbreaking labor, if it'll help me forget all the things I need to forget.
Even though I leave not too long after lunch, I'm still one of the last volunteers in the group. It's a good turnout - Shelly always has a knack for getting people to roll up their sleeves.
Walking up behind the little crowd, I see something that makes my heart slam into my ribcage.
It's not him. It's not him. IT CAN'T BE HIM.
Even knowing what I know, this is not the sort of thing Adrian would turn out for. Hands-on work? He's more of a "write a check and forget about it" kind of guy. But if that's not the back of his head, incongruously sticking out of a strangely familiar looking tee-shirt, then I will swallow my shoe.
I just stare. I've never seen him in jeans before. I've never seen him casual before. I haven't seen him at all in so long, after seeing him every weekday and way too many weekends for half a decade, and I think my heart might explode.
"Adrian?" I half-whisper.
He turns around.
There's that classic just saw a ghost look in his eyes, but I can't stop staring at his mouth, his jaw, because he's finally let that stubborn stubble grow out, nothing crazy, less than half an inch of carefully-groomed beard. It's just a shade darker than the hair on his head, with more mottled golden-red mixed in. It suits him.
His shirt says: KEEP AUSTIN WEIRD
"Shelly told me you wouldn't be here," he says, softly.
"Shelly lied," says the woman herself, appearing from behind a pile of boxes, dusting off her hands. "You two need to have a long conversation. Meghan, please give him a chance. You can have my office. Adrian, go. Tell her what you told me. So help me God, I don't care how much money you donate, I'll drag you there by your ear if you give me any sass."
I'm staring at her. No wonder it was so urgent for me to work today. "What the hell is going on?"
She just shrugs. "I put the pieces together. I remembered you said you were working for his company, so when he shows up all of a sudden, I had a feeling there was a connection. It didn't take much prying to get the whole sob story out of him, I'll tell you. Something about holding a kitten just makes a man want to confess all his sins. I'm not saying you have to forgive him, but I can't keep watching you two pine away for each other. Work it out somehow, for all of our sakes."
I can't look at Adrian, don't want to, now, but he touches my arm.
"I think we'd better go," he says, with a hint of an apprehensive smile on his lips. "She scares me."
Numbly, with a ringing in my ears, I follow him. He sits down on the edge of her desk, maybe because he doesn't want to mirror the way we always used to speak to each other, and otherwise I would have instinctively sat down in the visitor's chair, while he reclined behind the desk.
"I regret almost everything I've ever said to you," he says, his voice quiet and gruff. "But nothing as much as when I lied about the emails. I was trying to protect you, but…"
"You took advantage of my trust," I hiss. "How is that okay?"
"It's obviously not," he says, looking irritated already. "Did I say it was okay? Have I ever so much as implied that anything I've ever done in my life is 'okay?' It is what it is, Meghan. And I thought you liked me for who I was. I thought you…" He stops, sighing. "The way you looked at me that night, when I sent your mother packing, I swore you loved me."
"Maybe I did." My voice is shaking, and I barely recognize the sound. "For a minute there. When I forgot who you really were."
He rests his head in his hands for a minute, finally raking his fingers through his hair and looking up again. "Do you just want an apology, Meg? Is that why you're here? Or do you still feel something? Does it seem like you're sleep-walking through your life now? Did your heart leap out of your chest, the first time you heard my name since you came to my house? Do you dream about me? Do you wake up moaning my name?" His tone grows softer, and I hate him for trying to evoke all the passion he knows I can't resist or control. "Because I do. I did. That's how it is for me, Meg. I can't forget you. Not that I expected to. But I thought it would be easier to cut and run."
"So what is this?" I'm breathing faster, and I don't know if it's anger or excitement or some fucked-up combination of both. "You give a bunch of money to save the puppies, and show up here all grunge-rock to actually get your hands dirty, and you think that's gonna make everything better?" I starting to get shrill, but I can't help myself. I might actually be losing my mind.
He's exasperated. At least that's a familiar emotion. "I swear to God, I didn't know. Shelly will tell you. I begged her a thousand times, before I came here, every time, to make sure you were nowhere near the place. I didn't want you to find out. Specifically because I didn't want you to think that."
"So why are you here, then?" I want to know.
"Better than drinking myself to death on the kitchen floor," he says. "Which seems to be where I'm headed, otherwise."
"I don't feel sorry for you," I tell him, because I actually do. God damn it.
Adrian sighs. "Good. You didn't answer my question."
"What?" I've completely lost track of what the hell he's talking about.
"Do you still care?" he asks me. "Even a little?"
Tears spring to my eyes instantly. How can I keep playing it cool when he's standing in front of me, looking like that?
"Of course!" I almost shout. "After my mom left, I…" My voice trails off to a whisper, now. "…I didn't think it was possible to feel that way about anyone."
Pain crosses his face. He closes the distance between us, grabbing my arms gently and holding me still while he talks. It's such a subtle gesture of dominance, and I probably shouldn't love it, but I do. I still do.
"Leaving that night was the worst thing I've ever done in my life," he says. "And believe me, that's saying something."
I have to chuckle slightly. "I don't believe you."
"Believe me," he says. "I know I broke your heart that night. And I knew that would happen. I was fucking selfish. I've been selfish my whole life, Meg, which I'm sure you know. But the important thing is that I know. I've always known, but now it's different. I've felt the full consequences of my actions for the first time in my life, and if you don't think it's humiliating to admit that…it doesn't matter. This isn't about me - that's the point. My whole life, everything's always been dispensable. Replaceable. Do you know how many cars I crashed before I even turned sixteen?" He lets out a little bewildered laugh. "And I never hurt someone so badly they wouldn't come back, if I waved my wallet in front of them. My parents always told me to be more careful, but I didn't know the meaning of the word."