The Aristocrat

They call it exes who can't let it go

Friday 23rd. 

Thomas had been my first real boyfriend. That's if you could call a six-week coast-side fling a relationship. 

To me now it does seem all immature, the things we fought about, the way we acted. But we were young and we were both damaged goods at the time. 

My friends never liked him from the start. Fleur, Chester, Ivy and Hugo already knew him from school. Caspian and Oliver were also far from pleased when I brought him back to our beach house for dinner. They thought he was a total ass and I suppose they weren't far off. 

I ignored them completely though. By that point, I'd jumped head first into the fantasy that was Thomas; sweaty palms and first dates. 

When I first met him, I'd had an initial bad feeling about him. A feeling I think most people received when meeting him. He was too flirty, too easy with his words. But then I bumped into him one night on the beach. He'd been freaking out because his sister had gone on her first date. He was fiercely protective of her and in that moment, he'd reminded me of Caspian. Strong and calm on the outside but complete mush on the in. I'd managed to distract him by letting him take me to the restaurant he'd invited me to the days before. 

Within that summer Thomas, without knowing it, helped me a lot. I'd give him credit for that. Though I'd never told him in the fears it rush to his head. He'd helped me get over the person I was at boarding school, the person I didn't want to be. That pathetic kid that cried over her parents corrupted marriage. 

From that night till the end of summer we were besotted with each other. It was the most fun I'd had since I got back from boarding school. Then we got back to the city and suddenly we weren't having fun anymore. We argued and fought and screamed. We held onto it as long as we could, but eventually we couldn't do it anymore. We mutually agreed to break up. Though I knew he never got over it fully. He hid it behind flirty jokes and strong masks but I still knew. Recently we'd been spending the occasional night together. After nearly a year, being single got lonely, so I found it hard to not give in to him.

I didn't know why today I felt like I did or what made me want to call him. Maybe it was because my mum kept asking after him or because of what he and Hugo did the night before but I felt I had to be honest with him. 

"Why are we here?" Thomas snubbed, his eyes surveying the small coffee shop I'd chosen to meet him at. It was 6 in the evening and we sat at the window table looking out over the street. 

"To talk," I said, my tone deflated as I watched his across the table. I was tired if anything. Lat nights events rung in my head like a broken record player. I couldn't get Ivy's words out of my mind nor the knowledge of knowing that Hugo had been using again. I thought of bringing it up with Thomas but I didn't know if I could handle whatever excuse he had to offer me. 

"We could have talked at mine," He grinned boyishly. It was a look that he did often, one I hated seeing on him. 

"I swear you only ever think about sleeping with me," I breathed, irritation seeping into my tone "This is why we broke up."

Thomas's smirk fell from his lips and he frowned. His lips thinned out and forehead creased as he replied, "No. We broke up because I liked you more than you liked me."

"Yeah well, you're not exactly an easy person to love Thomas," I uttered. I wouldn't look at him, only the coffee that I stirred with my spoon. 

"But Isaac was?" He taunted. He sounded jealous and angry. His words pulled my eyes to his sharply and I stared at him bewilderingly. 

"You can't say things like that," I warned him underneath my breath, taking a slow sip of my hot coffee. The liquid passed into my mouth burning my tongue. 

"Because it's true?" He pressed on, not caring that it would stir a paranoia in me. 

"Because you don't know all the facts."

Thomas cocked an eyebrow and lent forward on his elbows. He moved his head across the table until it was closer to mine. All I could do was blink and wait. 

"I know enough," He whispered, his words fanning out over me where they set into my skin and seeped through. He was trying to get a reaction out of me, steer me back into his arms with his unspoken threats. 

This was why things would never work, because we made each other bad people. Falling onto the back of my seat I put distance between us. With a winning smile Thomas lent back into his beginning position opposite me. 

"This isn't why I called you here," I said as I reached for my bag on the floor beside me. His eyes followed my hand as it a went inside the bag and pulled out something. 

When my hand surfaced back out, it had something in it. 

"Andra," Thomas whispered closing his eyes. When he opened them again, regret run across them. 

I felt like we'd done this a thousand times, like we were an episode on constant re-run. I knew every word that would follow, every move he'd make next. Except this time, it felt different. It felt final. 

"Thomas, I know you aren't a bad guy," I said, ignoring his protests "That's why we have to stop running back and forth with each other. We'll never be good together so I think we should try and move on."

I put the small box on the table and slid it over to his side. Inside was the bracelet he'd given me the other night, the one I'd worn to my mother's event. I couldn't wear it anymore. 

"Andra, I gave that to you," Thomas said, all previous anger and jealousy gone, whipped form his stance "Don't make me take it back."

He looked down at it, not wanting to take it.

"Thomas," I said laying my hand on the table for him to hold. When he didn't I kept talking anyway, "I really don't deserve it. Keep it for someone who does."

"I'm not doing this Andra," Thomas shook his head his frustration rising up from inside him "We both know that in a couple of weeks one of us will give in and we'll run back to each other. We do this every time."

"That's the point Tom. It's like a cycle that doesn't end. We hurt each other, break up and a week later we're together again. Isn't it getting boring for you?"

"No," He spat as if I'd insulted him with the truth "Being with you is far from boring. It's the only thing I look forward to."

"Thomas, please don't make this harder," I begged, my fingers attempting to push the box into his on the table "You know I'm right. And even though it kills me to walk away completely, it's the right thing to do. I think we both deserve a lot better."

Thomas wouldn't answer me, he wouldn't take the box. He wouldn't stop staring at me like I was betraying him. It made me question whether I'd been giving him the wrong impression for the past few months. Although with Thomas I'd always felt strongly for him, I thought we were both clear that it wasn't a relationship. There wasn't a commitment there. 

"Is it because he's back?" Thomas asked finally breaking the silence "I've seen him around. Are you doing this because of him?"

"God no," I promised letting go off the box and grazing his wrist gently "It's not that. I swear I wouldn't do that to you. I just- I can't do this anymore. There's too many things in the way, myself being one of them. I can't be what you need Thomas, I can't love you full time. And I know that sounds awful but I'm being honest with you. I could lie and make up some bullshit reason but I don't want to lie to you Tom. So please, take it back. Please let it go."

There was a silence that followed again and Thomas couldn't make contact. He kept his eyes closed and his body still. 

Then as quick as a blink, he opened his eyes and reached out for the box, "Thanks for being honest."