Statistically

Chapter Eleven

The ride home is quiet, Lee falls asleep and Elle is silent. It doesn't take me long to realize that I am in trouble. As I drive, I try to figure out how that works. How it is that Elle ended up marrying my brother, of all people, and I talk to one girl at a party and get the silent treatment.

I tell myself that if our situations were somehow reversed, I wouldn't be that way. That if I was the one who somehow aquired a happy life after us, I wouldn't try to make her feel bad about any shred of happiness she could aquire.  And then I wonder if that is true, because I am here, after all.  If I really loved her, maybe I would've stayed away.

By the time we get back to their house I am close to having one of those moments. One of those times where I lose myself in my anger. I offer to help Lee get inside but I don't really want to and I am glad when he says he's fine. I don't watch them walk away, don't make sure they get inside okay, I just turn and go to the garage to hide.

I am polishing and repolishing the same spot on the handle bar of my bike when I hear her open the door. I don't want to hear whatever it is she has to say. Don't want to feel the way I know her words will push and pull on the little shards of her that are forever buried in my heart.

"Go away." I say and I mean it.

But then I hear her crying and even though I know the worst possible thing I could do is look at her, I turn around anyway.  Just like every time, I am completely enamored by her, and that only upsets me more.

"I'm sorry." She says as she shrugs her shoulders, tears staining her face.

"This sucks, Elle."

"I know, I just saw you go into the house with her and -"

But I don't let her finish. "And what, Elle? Why is it even your business what I do?"

"It isn't."

I'm walking towards her and I know my voice is too loud but I can't help it.

"What right do you have, after everything, to get mad at me for talking to someone?" And because I am mad, because I am tired, because I don't quite have the level of control over myself that I normally do, I say it. "Elle, you married my brother."

She doesn't say anything, just puts her face in her hands and cries. I feel that I am close to crying too, and that just makes me even angrier.

"If you want to talk, let's talk about that! Explain it to me, Elle, help me understand!  Because I don't get it..." My voice trails off a little as my anger dwindles down, down into its familiar form. Where I am more sad than angry. More sad than anything. "...just how the fuck you could do that to me?"

I go back to my bike, sit down and lean back against it. Defeated. Rubbing tears out of my eyes. I feel like no matter what I do, it is never right.  I try to look ahead of me, to see some way out of this, but there really aren't any that I like.

I could leave, and maybe I should, maybe I know deep down that is the only solution.  But I don't want to.  I am tired of living a life on my own, tired of just going through the motions.  Or, I could stay.  Which also sucks, because there is no part of my life here that isn't saturated in Elle.  I'm not sure how I am supposed to get over her, when I can't even get away from her.

She stands there and doesn't say anything and when I look at her, I'm not mad anymore.  I pat the ground next to me and she sits down, bringing her knees to her chest.  Her arm presses against mine but neither of us move over to make more room. This is it, where we ended up. Sitting on her garage floor, taking advantage of any little opportunity to touch each other.

"Would you believe it..." she says, "...if I told you I thought you didn't love me anymore? That you were out there living your best life, that you had forgotten about me?"

I don't hesitate. "No."

She stares ahead of us and I wonder what she is seeing, in her mind. I wonder if she is thinking back on those last days of our relationship. Those last few phone calls before our relationship just blew away on the wind. I think back and try to remember what I sounded like, what I said. How she could've missed that every possible future I imagined had her in it. How there was ever a day, from the first day to now, when she ever doubted that I loved her.  I thought that I told her enough.  I guess I didn't.

"It made more sense to me, than the idea of you pining away for me. Look at you and look at me." She gestures with her hands. "It never made sense to me, you wanting to be with me."

I want to tell her that she has never saw herself correctly. That she doesn't know what she looks like, when she's looking at me. But what difference does it make now.

So instead I look over at her and she looks at me. We stare at each other, our noses almost touching, and I hope that she sees all of the things I can't say. It may not matter now, but I still want her to know them.

"You should call her." She says, still staring into my eyes.

"Maybe I will." I say, staring back.

"I hope you-"

But whatever she is saying is cut off.

Cut off by my lips on hers.

Part of me hopes she will pull away, be the voice of reason in this moment because I have clearly lost my mind. Instead, her hands are in my hair, pulling me closer.

Once I kiss her, I don't know how I ever stopped.  I don't know how I managed to finish out college without jumping on a plane and coming back home, back to her, back to this.  I don't know how I've went a day without this feeling, let alone years.

I kiss her and one by one all the reasons I shouldn't fade away, until all that is left is us, in this moment exactly how we would be if things had went the way I always planned.  The way they should've went.

Because she shouldn't be with Lee, she should be with me.  This should be our house, this should be our life.  I should be able to kiss her every day, whenever I want.  Because what is the point of feeling this way if I can't?  I think the reason I can't get over her is because I'm not supposed to.

Because she is supposed to be mine.

I pull her into my lap and for a second we break apart.  She looks down at me, her hair falls around us like a curtain, her eyes impossibly huge.  I can already hear her telling me that this is a bad idea, already feel her pushing me away.

But she doesn't.  She leans down and kisses me again, puts her hands on the side of my face.  I pretend that I can't taste her tears, I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her to me, because I am afraid of what comes next.

Eventually though, we have to stop.  We pull apart, our faces still close, out of breath and a little in shock.  We stare into each other's eyes and I fantasize about both of us jumping on my bike, just peeling out of the driveway and leaving it all behind.  But I don't ask her.  I try to tell myself that it just isn't the right time, but I'm lying to myself.

I would ask her, right now.  But I know she'd say no.  

She stands up, runs her fingers through her hair and fixes her shirt.

I stay on the floor, leaned against the bike and staring at her.  Unable to form any half way meaningful words.

"I, uh... I have to go inside."

And so she does.  And I watch her leave.

Watch her as she walks out of the door, to no doubt find her way into the bed she shares with Lee.  Watch her as she walks away with that part of my heart I will never get back, the one she all but burned her name into.  I just watch, as she steps back into her real life, leaving me behind.