𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 | 𝐃𝐔𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊 [Collins]

Chapter 5 - Bad feelings

(revised)

My reunion with Lewis the day before had not been what I had imagined. I had been happy when I had seen him waiting for me outside, flattered by the fact he had kept his promise. It had felt so nice to be in his arms again and to receive his affection, but a part of me had frozen when I had seen Andrew and he had avoided eye contact. He had talked to my boyfriend but not me, and the truth I had dreaded to tell him was now out of the bag, whether I liked it or not, and I was afraid it would change things between us.

I had sat in Lewis's car and tried to erase the wrong sentiment of guilt that had overwhelmed me, which had been increased by my boyfriend's mention of Andrew during the ride, of the fact that he was waiting for a girl to ask her out and that it had reminded him of us at the beginning of our relationship. He did not know that his words made me more sad than happy, because we were obviously not like that anymore, and because the simple thought of Andrew wanting a girl that was not me hurt me to the core. I had held back my tears and tried to shush the voice in my head that kept telling me that the girl should have been me, that I had made the wrong choice, that I should have chosen him. It was too late now; I had wanted Lewis and I had let Andrew slip away from me, I could not have both. My heart felt terribly empty but my reason, stubborn as it was, told me I had to think about Lewis and on how to fix our couple.

I had forced myself to enjoy the evening with him, the dinner at the pub he had all planned to please me. I had done my best to focus on what we had, but Andrew would always be in a corner of my mind, and I would compare every little action Lewis made to what I had experienced with Andrew. His hand holding mine was not making my heart race, the contact of his skin against my skin had nothing electrifying, his eyes were not shining when looking at me, he did not make me feel special. The signs of affection he had shown at the beginning had quickly given place to his old behaviour. He had politely asked questions about my job before focusing on his life in London again, talking about how much money he had spent at the bar with his partners, how much his fancy car had cost, and how dreadful it must be for me to live in this boring place. He was belittling me, again, talking to me as if I would come round thanks to him and agree to follow him back to London. He did not mean what he had written in his letter, but I had gullibly believed every word of it. I should have been used to it, but I kept repeating the same mistakes, agreeing to stay despite knowing it was not the best for me, but I had somehow convinced myself I did not deserve better. I was his girlfriend, so I had to be happy to be with him, or at least fake it, and it was what I had done.

When I stepped into the office the next morning, I noticed the boys were already gathered around maps to debrief the mission of the morning. They all seemed tired, especially Andrew whose face was inscrutable. He was the only one who did not respond to my greetings, and even though his absence of attention was unusual, I was sure he had a good reason to act like that; but as the little hand moved around the clock, he stayed away from me, not even looking at me once. I felt unfairly rejected, unable to see my wrongdoing there. I couldn't bear to be ignored by him, to be deprived of his charming smile and his enchanting blue eyes just because he had moved on to someone else. I refused to believe I had lost him.

I took advantage of a break to follow him into the corridors, ignoring Eden's disapproving look. She had told me that he was probably in a bad mood and that it was just a matter of time before he came to talk to me, but I knew something was wrong. James and he had just passed the door leading to the airplane hangar when I dared to pronounce his name.

"Andrew?" I begged him. "Can we talk?"

He turned around without even looking at me as I approached him.

"You can go, I'll catch up with you later," he told James, who left us alone among the warplanes.

"What?" he asked, running a hand through his hair, betraying his bad mood as he appeared quite irritated by my presence. I tried in vain to meet his eyes, but he was always looking away, and I felt my heart clench at his unusual behaviour towards me. I wanted to go back to the way it was before.