Until We Meet Again

42. get over it

It almost feels like a betrayal to my 18 year self as I gather my things in the morning and prepare to walk out on what happened between Delilah and I. But I don't owe her or Delilah anything, and I certainly won't stay to make my younger self happy.

I do realize that this was once all I wanted, but I also do realize that I'm an adult now and I don't have the time for this. I'm 22, I shouldn't be caught up with someone I met as a kid anymore. The relationship was mess, and I can't live through that film again.

I shut her bedroom door behind me, and as I make my way across the hardwood floor to the final exit, I try to remain extra quiet. For the first time, the sight of her apartment settles in.

Grey walls devoid of personality and empty picture frames are all around me. Her kitchen has sleek white cabinets and marble countertops, the story of a modern home present every piece of furniture she has. Sitting stools with gold outlines and white plush are around the island, and each is meant for a person that will never visit.

Her coffee table is made of dark brown wood and glass, providing a place for people to rest their feet as they watch television and stare out the windows into a world that they'll never be part of. A small balcony past the clear sliding doors to get an even closer sight of the outside, a feature that I don't have in my apartment. There's a small spread of blooming plants in her apartment, probably the only things that she can take care of without fucking everything up.

I can tell that everything is so expensive, but it almost makes the place look cheap.

As I get distracted by a white vase decorated with deep engravings of complicated lines sitting on a shelf in her small dining area, I barely get a warning about Delilah getting out of bed.

She comes out of the bedroom, rubbing her eyes as she tries to fully wake up at such an early hour . . . 8 am. She ties together her short satin blue robe, and tells me, "please don't leave."

"Why not? You always have."

Not the best choice of words, but it's my instinct to bring that up. It draws a sour look from her face and I can tell my response bothers her and she says, "it was only like once, get over it."

"It was like three times."

"It doesn't matter."

She just doesn't understand. Even if 4 more years were to pass, she wouldn't understand. She never will.

I decide to walk toward her, and I point my finger at her face, angrily telling her, "just because I'm over it now doesn't mean it was nothing."

Her eyebrows are raised in a confused yet irritated manner now as she asks me, "why do you always have to do this?"

"Do what?"

"It's been 8 years and you're still pissed off about me moving away."

"I am over it! Just because I'm over it doesn't mean I'm going to just never bring up the past," I tell her as if she can ever comprehend what I'm trying to say.

She never could back then.

"There's no point in bringing that up though! Why don't you ever talk about childhood memories or something else? No, you only want to focus on something that you care about."

"I do care about other stuff."

"Well, you never act like it," she tells me.

I don't owe her anything. I can just go, I can forget this ever happened. We don't ever have to see each other again, and I think that could be for the best.

We may have loved each other once, but we certainly don't love or even like each other now.

"I don't have to defend or even explain myself to you. I'm leaving, and I think it's for the best that we both just forget about what happened last night."

I've been living peacefully for the last 4 years without her, I can probably last a lifetime.

"That's it? So, you just use me for sex and move on?" She tells me, trying to bring up some extreme response that she's so desperate for.

She wants me to care, she wants me to react in some way that'll satisfy her. But it's not going to happen.

"And so what if I used you? I don't remember you caring too much about that last night."

Delilah isn't Rowan, she doesn't deserve any apologies. I didn't do anything wrong, she's just trying to make me feel bad.

And she makes a quick and shocking statement as she leans into me, dangerously close to placing her lips on my neck, "you're right."

She's trying to recreate the moment as if it it was so monumental.

I step back, creating more distance between us without allowing her to pull any other stunt as I tell her, "last night was a one time thing, it meant nothing."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Delilah, can't you leave me alone?" I don't understand why you've suddenly popped up into my life again, you keep coming back and I don't want you to."

She doesn't appreciate my attitude toward the subject as she says, "I came to New York for you, and it's by chance that I actually found you."

I shrug, and tell her, "You were flirting with my friend, it doesn't seem like you came here for me."

"You dated Augustine in high school even though you supposedly missed me so much. So, as you clearly must know, it's complicated. I did come here for you though, I promise you that."

"Well, then can you do me a favor?"

"What?" She asks curiously, wondering what trick I can come up with on the spot.

"Can you leave New York now? For me?" I say mockingly, she's trying to win me over but she won't.

She never will.

"Very funny," she says with a fake laugh. "But last night proved to me that you still have feelings for me even if you don't want to admit. And you know what, that's enough reason for me not to leave yet. . . that and also, my business is literally based here."

She has a real reason to stay then whether she chooses to bother me more or not. I'm not at peace with her being in the same city is me. A huge population but out of chance, she just had to run into my friend and lure me here.

Maybe it is a sign, but I don't want to interpret that right now. I don't have the space for her in my life, I've been living comfortably here. I don't want anything to throw everything off for me.

"Delilah, just promise me that you'll leave me alone?" I try my hardest to be sincere, I hope that she can believe it.

She sighs deeply and dramatically, and says, "I will, but I have a feeling that you'll be the one to reach out first."

"Well, your feeling is wrong. Bye!"

I leave her behind, standing all effortlessly gorgeous in her thin robe as I walk out of her apartment for the first and last time. I have everything that I brought with me yesterday, but somehow my thoughts toward her keep taking up more space in my mind and it's starting to affect me already.

I'll yell at Sanna first, and then I'll work on erasing the memories of her that are currently replaying nonstop in my head.