Wow. We were really not talking. At all. Um. “So...how have you been?” I immediately wanted to take it back.
They shot an eyebrow raise at me. “Fine. You know. Tea with the vicar, that sort of thing.”
I swallowed. “Yeah, that was a dumb question. Sorry.” I took the offered food and followed them to the armchairs. “Things got...bad. For me. I mean what I did was bad. And the rest of the week. Though I took a permanent job at my work, so that’s been okay.”
“Really? What prompted that?”
“I’m...not sure. The event went well. And I guess I sort of...decided to take the opportunity. I can always quit later if it doesn’t work out.”
“A wise guiding principle for any endeavor.”
“Um. Yeah. Wait, was that pointed?”
They shrugged. “That must have been part of what happened between us. Things weren’t working out for you?”
“Um.” Could I say um more in any one conversation than I was right now? “I’m not sure. Honestly, I didn’t know what I was doing or saying or feeling. I flipped out.”
They made a dismissive arm gesture. “‘Flipped out’ is nonspecific and potentially minimizing.”
“Right. Yeah. I...had a panic attack.” My shoulders hunched as I said it.
Sidney put down their food. “Are you all right?”
“Fine, fine, it was no big deal.”
“Maybe we should...treat it as if it matters, though. Is that why you left so quickly?”
“I didn’t want to—” flip out “—lose it in front of you. I’m sorry.”
They nodded. “I understand.”
I ate a bite of food, barely tasting it, while they looked at me. I didn’t know what else to do. And I couldn’t keep staring back because I felt too...too much. Too exposed. Too embarrassed. Too much like if I said the wrong thing I’d never get to sit here and eat Thai food with them again.
“Actually...” They took a deep breath. “Actually, while I do understand, I also felt really, really hurt. We could have done a lot of things at that moment, and any number of them could have included you having time to yourself for whatever reason, but just leaving and not talking to me at all was...awful. For me.”
“For me too. Shit, I didn’t mean to—I didn’t mean that like I was trying to say it was the same kind of awful, just I missed you so much and I had no idea it was going to hurt so badly to not be able to talk to you and I’m really, really sorry.”
“Okay. I accept your apology.”
“I mean...are you sure, though?” I had to ask. I didn’t want them to say they accepted my apology if they couldn’t.
They picked up their plate again, setting it on their lap. “I guess it felt like all the other times people have faded away. Except this time I’d tried so hard to not do that myself and I didn’t think you would. It surprised me. Maybe it shouldn’t have, I don’t know. But I thought we could talk to each other if things weren’t working, and then you just...left. I am sure that I accept your apology, though. I know you mean it.”
“I do. I’m so fucking sorry I did that. And then, once I’d done it, I didn’t know how to un-do it, how to take it back, especially because I still feel like the reason I did it is valid, so it’s really hard to...to pick it all apart and figure out what the right thing is.” I ran down, feeling weirdly winded and also still awful. If I’d thought saying all that would help, I would have been disappointed.
They looked at me for a long moment. “I felt like you’d decided I wasn’t worth the trouble. That being with me wasn’t...enough.”
“Oh my god, no. Nothing like that.”
“Yes, but...” Their brows drew down in their difficult-thinking expression and my heart kind of ached knowing I’d been the cause of it. “But you wouldn’t talk to me. That was the issue. Not that you got worried, or anxious, or did something you wish you hadn’t done. The problem was we didn’t talk about it which meant we couldn’t fix it. I guess I need to know what you want now that you’re here.”
They sounded so neutral. So uninvolved. It was ludicrous of me to wish they’d take a huge emotional risk right now—or more than they already had—but for a moment, I wasn’t sure I could be the one who did that. I wanted to. Sort of. But if I opened myself up and asked them to take me back and they even hesitated for like a second (which they’d be sensible to do), I’d be crushed.
My hands were shaking. I could not do this. There was no way. We’d finish our food and part as friends and that was it, that was all I could manage.
Do you know what you want?
Except I did know. At least I thought I did. I kept my eyes on my food and said, very softly, “Would you mind holding my hand?”
They moved fast. Fast like they weren’t worried about spooking me. Fast like they wanted nothing more in the world than to hold my hand. To be invited to do so. “I’m right here. Take your time.” They took my right hand in both of theirs and just sat there, awkwardly bent over, like they could do it all night.
Which was too much for me and I started to cry.
They slid their fingers free to take the bowl away from me and set it on the table so they could grab both of my hands. “You already apologized. I completely accept. I swear.”
“But you... I...” I sniffled. “You deserve better than me. I will fuck up again. I will always fuck up again.”
“Didn’t you hear me spinstering at you? Everyone fucks up. That’s a fact of life.”
“But I fuck up massively. And you stopped doing relationships because you couldn’t find anyone who wanted to do it the way you did, and what if I don’t? What if I fail you?”
Sidney took a breath. Their expression was...intent and serious and totally not repelled by me. I could tell. At least I hoped so. “This is the untangling. Like. It’s not really...useful for you to be obsessed with failing me. When as long as you keep talking to me, as long as we’re figuring things out together, you can’t fail me. If we discover we want incompatible things, then we’ll deal with that, but do you think that’s true right now? Or are you afraid it might be later, like it was with Mason?”
I hunched a little. “Maybe that. I don’t want to hurt you like I hurt him.”
“Not to, um, doubt your gallant instincts, but do you think you might also not want to be hurt like you were before?”
Ugh, I was terrible. I was a terrible human being. “I’m sorry.”