Growing Pains [short story]

December 1985

Mira was still lost in the memory when Daniel broke the silence, "For what it's worth, I love you Mira. I think I always will."

The soft exchange and promise of anniversary celebrations never-to-be had trickled away, replaced with a rush of anger. Folding in half, Mira sweeped up the discarded shoes and lobbed them at Daniel. He didn't try to dodge her poor aim. Mira grappled with the phone, pulling the cord from the wall as she launched it at him. Big whopping breaths caught up to her and pressed against her hiccuping chest.

"Mira! What the hell?" Daniel yelled, ducking as he walked toward her.

"'I'll always love you,'" she mimicked. Mira backed away from Daniel. She was flinging mail at him now, piece by piece. Death by a thousand paper cuts.

"Who the hell says that when they're breaking up?" she hiccuped. "You don't get to be the good guy!" Mira ran out of mail.

Daniel was a few feet away from her, brow creased in anguish. They stood in the mess she made for a moment before he reached down to pick up the littered floor. He stacked her mail in neat piles on the table and fixed the phone. He was gentle, despite her show of aggression. He sighed.

"Is that what you want? For me to be the bad guy?" Daniel asked. He shook his head, guilt wrinkling into the space between his eyes.

"I never wanted to hurt you." He stepped toward Mira, close enough that she could smell the curry from dinner. He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers, and placed a hand on each side of her face. She pressed in, eliminating any space between the two of them, and pinched her eyes shut.

"Well, you did."

"I love you," Daniel's breath wobbled.

"Not enough," she said, hoping his throat burned just as ferociously as hers.

"I just need some space."

"With her," Mira said. "You want space away from me, so you can be with her."

"It's not like that." The response felt juvenile despite the four years Daniel had on Mira.

"Do you expect me to wait for you then?" Mira scoffed, eyes pressing shut.

The fire choked out in her chest and turned to bitter words that she coughed up from her lungs, "Did you two-"

"No," Daniel shook his head fervently, and stepped closer. "I would never do that."

"I love you." Even as she said the words, Mira knew they weren't true.

How else was she supposed to fix this? She would've said something else if it weren't for his lips pressing against her forehead. She didn't look up. Didn't open her eyes when she felt his warmth retreat or heard the front door unlatch. She slept on the couch that night.