“Okay,” Ryan says hesitantly, seeming confused.
“Right. So a few months ago, I was having a bit of a tough time with writing. I had just gone through my breakup and I was looking for a change of scenery, so I decided to take a trip.”
“Oh, yeah? Where’d you go?”
“No, I didn’t go anywhere then. I booked a trip that I’m going on soon. Two days after Cristina’s wedding. To Italy.”
Ryan moves forward on the couch, turning in towards me. I can see the underlying concern in his eyes. “How long are you going for?”
I pause. “Six months.”
Ryan’s face falls. My heart is pounding one second and slowing the next. Stopping and starting at the same time.
“Six months?” he asks.
“I’ve always wanted to take a big trip to Europe and when I booked it, I thought it was the perfect time to go. I figured I would relax, I’d write, I’d travel. All that good stuff.”
Ryan sits back on the couch. “Sorry, I’m just taking this all in. You’re leaving for Italy in two days and you’re not coming back for six months?”
“Yes.” I keep twisting my fingers together.
“So were you and me a kind of fun, goodbye fling?” His tone is light, but I know there’s more fear to his words than he wants to let on.
“No, not at all,” I say, inching closer. “I honestly didn’t know what this was until you said what you did at dinner tonight. The thought of you moving here made me so happy and then I felt terrible because I didn’t tell you about my trip.”
Ryan swallows and nods.
“But this doesn’t mean that I don’t want to be with you. There are other options to consider.”
“What kind of options?”
“Well, option one is that I go to Italy as planned. We can FaceTime every day and maybe you can even come over for a vacation if you can get time off work.” I lean forward and grab the paper I hid under a book on the coffee table. “I printed out a brochure of the apartments I’m staying in. I’m sure you’d love it. It can be your first trip abroad.”
I hand him the folded-up paper, giving my best travel-agent smile. Ryan looks at the front cover but doesn’t open it.
“And option two?” he asks.
The room goes quiet. I can hear Duke’s heavy breathing from my bedroom.
“Option two...I don’t go.” I search Ryan’s eyes for what he could be feeling but can’t find anything definitive. His emotions are blurry, silhouettes swimming under a thick sheet of ice. “What are you thinking?” I ask.
“I really don’t know.”
“Are you mad?”
“No, I’m not mad. I’m just processing everything.” A few seconds pass until he stands up and walks towards the kitchenette. His steps are heavy until he turns around to face me, his hands resting down on the frame of a dining table chair.
“How would you feel if I decided to go?” I ask.
“I’d miss you. I’d be scared that what happened between us before would happen again.”
“And if I didn’t go?”
“If you didn’t go, I’d feel guilty and worried that you were missing out on something you wanted because of me.”
His words confirm that there’s no winner in either scenario. No obvious choice.
“I should have brought it up sooner, but I wasn’t even positive if you were into me or not until fairly recently.”
“Are you serious?” Ryan walks closer to the couch but doesn’t sit back down. “Since the first second I saw you again all I’ve been doing is trying not to throw myself at you every second of the day.”
My heart feels heavy, beating faster still. “Why did you try not to?” I ask.
It’s hard to swallow. My mouth feels dry. I’m poised to speak again when Ryan’s cell phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out and looks at the screen before silencing it. He then slides it back into his pocket and sits down on the couch beside me.
“You need to go on this trip,” he says.
“I don’t.” The thought of him wanting me to leave suddenly makes me want to stay. “What if what we have goes away again?”
“It won’t. Six months is a long time, but we can handle it.” He takes my hand and moves his thumb over my fingers. “We’ve already made it ten years without each other. Six months will be like a long weekend for us.”
“Is that what you really think?” I ask.
“Yes. It won’t be easy, but we’ll get through it. We’ll be okay.”
I nod my head, moving forward to wrap my arms around his waist.
We’ll be okay.
He thinks we’re going to be okay.
I wish I believed him.
The next morning, I wake up again to an empty bed. It’s quiet. No running shower water or murmurs of the TV in the other room. I sit up and Ryan is nowhere to be seen. My apartment, which would once seem perfectly normal in this state, now seems deserted.
I get out of bed and walk into the living room. Duke is resting on the floor next to the ottoman as Ryan sits in my reading chair. He looks up at me with a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. I return it with one of my own as I cross the room, standing beside him and rubbing the back of his neck with my hand. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” he answers.
“I have to head over to Cristina’s to start getting ready soon. You’re meeting Jason and the guys at the hotel, right?”
Ryan nods. He looks tired.
“Are you feeling all right?”
He takes my hand from his neck and squeezes it in his own. “I’m fine.”
I walk around the chair and sit on his lap, pushing my hand into his sandy hair that always looks darker when we’re inside. He nestles me close and inhales against the top
