The Secret Of Us. Liesel Schmidt

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СКАЧАТЬ mattered was that I knew now that I loved him, was in love with him, and that he needed to know.

      “Do you ever wonder, Matt?” I had asked after finding him sprawled out on the couch, resplendent in a ratty tee shirt and the Superman pyjama bottoms I’d given him the previous Christmas.

      He had looked at me quizzically and shifted on the couch, silently patting the spot he’d cleared for me. I flopped down, feeling an odd mix of excitement, nervousness, and boldness.

      “Wonder what?”

      I turned sideways to face him, pulling my legs up under me and resting my head on the back of the couch. I’d closed my eyes for a brief moment and taken a deep breath, feeling my resolve slip ever so slightly.

      “Wonder what?” Matt repeated softly, reaching out to tuck an errant lock of hair behind my ear.

      I opened my eyes to see him looking at me intently, concern written clearly on his face.

      Now or never, Eira, I thought.

      “Do you ever wonder if we should try – if maybe we could,” I had paused, unsure of how to phrase the question. “What about us?”

      The question had been almost a whisper. My chin was starting to quiver, and I could feel tears forming. I had wanted so badly to hear him say he felt the same way I did, but I was terrified that he wouldn’t.

      And that then nothing would ever be the same.

      How could it have been?

      He’d ducked his head, dropping his gaze to his hands and then raising his eyes back to meet mine. They were full of undisguised affection, but there was a seriousness in them that gave it all away before the words had even left his mouth.

      “Eira,” he’d started, his hushed voice cutting through the absolute silence of the room as effectively as if he was shouting. He had taken my hands in his, enveloping them in his warm strength, his thumbs rubbing gently over the tops of my hands.

      “You know I love you, Eira. You know that, right?” he asked.

      I nodded mutely, not trusting myself to say anything.

      “I love you, but not the way that you need me to – the way that you should be loved.” He smiled a small smile edged with sadness. “Besides, I’m screwed up. You don’t need that, Eira. You deserve better than that – I want you to have better than that.”

      There. He had said it.

      All the things I knew I’d already known but was hoping had changed in the past year. I had listened silently, my heart breaking a little more with each word. I realized then, of course, that these were so many of the standard responses to this situation, the quickest route to damage control. But I also knew that the man saying them wasn’t just any man. He was my best friend, and someone I didn’t ever want to lose. I had trusted him not to serve me with platitudes, trusted him to be honest with me about his feelings. Even if he couldn’t give me the answers I wanted to hear.

      I’d wondered as I looked into his eyes if I would be able to live like this, to continue to be his friend while he dated other women, when I loved him, was in love with him, and wanted more. He squeezed my hands, the gentle pressure communicating his understanding of the struggle going on in my head and in my heart.

      “I’m not ready for you, Eira. You should have someone who will be fully committed to you, and right now I’m not emotionally in that place.” He looked away for a moment. “There’s a reason I haven’t been on a date in three months, and it’s not because I haven’t been meeting women anywhere. It’s because right now, I don’t think I should be dating. Anyone.” He smiled at me fondly. “But if I was, you would definitely be at the top of the list.”

      The conversation was done, the subject was closed. I felt so many things – hurt and confusion and disappointment. And a strange desire to argue, as though presenting my case well enough might change his mind, make him see that we were perfect for one another. That he really did love me enough, that he loved me the way that I loved him. I bit back the urge and swallowed the words I so desperately wanted to say.

      “Will you tell me if you ever change your mind?” I asked quietly.

      Matt nodded.

      “You’ll be the first to know,” he said soberly.

      I looked down at my hands, still ensconced in his, and blew out a long breath.

      “So, what’s on the tube?” I asked, extricating my hands and turning to face forward on the couch. I felt more like fleeing the apartment, burying myself in the safety and solitude of my bed, and hiding from the world while I cried. But I was determined to put on a brave face, to soldier on as though nothing had changed between us.

      As much as I wanted it to be true, it wasn’t.

      Nothing was the same, and nothing would ever be the same.

      Because I knew for certain that I loved him – and that he didn’t love me back.

      Months later, not even that was certain.

       Chapter Five

      From: Eira Larson

      To: Matthew Noble

      Subject: Please Read This Right NOW: I’m Going to be Totally Honest

      Date: October 12, 2004

       Right now I’m terrified.

       Again, I don’t really know how I should be feeling, but terrified is one of the first things that comes to mind.

       I want to be happy.

       I want to be able to take the memory of Friday night and for it to be simple.

      I want to take the memory of your face, your hands, your taste, the ridge of your jaw, your hair in my fingers – the feeling of you so close that all I wanted to do was get closer – I want to be able to think about all of those things without the sickening feeling that it was all a lie.

       Was it?

       Was it just some conjuring of my imagination that’s going to dissipate in the next gust of wind? I feel like I’ve lost my equilibrium, and I have no one to talk to about this except you. Only you know what you were thinking, so please tell me, Matt.

       We crossed the line we’ve been dancing next to for so long, and now I need to know where to go from here. I have no choice but to take your lead. As much as I trust you, I’m afraid of what you could do to me. You already knew you had the upper hand, but now I have nothing. I laid down all of my defenses, and now I feel like I’m waiting for the destroying blow, like I’m playing Battleship with someone who can see my board.

       When will I sink?

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