Forget Her Not

9 | act two

Liam should consider a career in acting. It is unnerving how good he used to be at pretending to care. How I can still see remnants of this past façade even now. Today, Liam asks me how I am feeling, all soft and worried looking with the strings of his favourite pink hoodie worn and frayed, and something in my heart just thrums and goes, oh. Oh, I miss you.

Liam had texted me on Saturday night.

He had not sent me an 'are you feeling better' text, or even just a basic 'hey, how are you'. Instead, our conversation goes like this.

Liam: you free tomorrow?

Me: yeah I end work at 2

Liam: k meet you there

Short, simple and precise. Nothing personal or noteworthy, and so unmistakeably to do with our partner project that we do not even have to acknowledge it. There is absolutely no reason for this to cause even a blip on my feelings radar. None.

I had called in sick for work on Saturday, and then spent most of the day bundled up in bed, sipping on cups of hot green tea infused with jasmine, and streaming old Korean dramas with light naps in between. My fever had gone down by night though, so I get up on Sunday morning to head over to Coffee House.

It is not as busy as it usually gets on Sunday mornings. It is a little rushed during the beginning though, because Delilah is running late, but when she gets here, things calm down and the whole process smooths itself out. Customers, orders, coffee, coffee and coffee. The routine is familiar, and the smell is calming. There are no angry customers or split drinks today. I breathe easily.

Delilah starts up a conversation with me during her lunch break.

"Arden," she says.

She bites into her white chocolate macadamia and raspberry muffin. Chews for a moment, thoughtful, and swallows before speaking again.

"Arden, how are things between you and Liam?"

My hand jerks. The milk that I had been pouring out, splashes unevenly into the cup of espresso that I am making. The pretty lapping circles of latte art wavers off into an uneven mess, on top of the milk foam.

I look to Delilah, and she smiles at me sweetly. When all I do is stare, tongue tied and thoughts uncertain around the edges, she goes on.

"I've just been hearing a lot of things. Stuff that happened before, stuff about now."

She waves her muffin around while she talks. I purse my lips, looking down at the now ruined and definitely not Instagramable cup of coffee.

"I've been hearing it differently too."

"There isn't really that much to tell." I reply quietly. "We dated and I thought that we maybe had something, but we didn't. Now we don't really like each other."

Delilah lifts an eyebrow. "Really?"

I give a firm nod, looking back down at the coffee cup. Well, at least Liam does not.

"Arden," Delilah sighs. "Don't be so nice. You can say that he was an asshole to you."

Her hands reach forward to pick up the ruined cup of espresso coffee that I had been making. I hear her take a sip. Ruined on the outside, still good on the inside.

"Dating you for a bet. Ending it like that. Asshole moves."

I inhale sharply. Each word is a punch to my chest. It is unexpected to hear someone say it out loud so explicitly. Unexpected that it is being acknowledged after such a long time. That it is being confirmed. Suddenly, I can feel tears in my eyes.

"I wouldn't call Liam an idiot, but he can be stupid sometimes. Too caught up in high school drama. I don't think he wants to hurt you though. He cares more than he lets on."

Delilah looks a little startled when I finally look up. My heart beats, uncertain, head conflicted with opposing emotions. I press my thumb against my knuckle, dragging it up to my fingertip.

"Don't say things like that." I say shakily. "He doesn't, and it's fine that he doesn't. I'm okay with it now."

I step out from behind the counter, pushing past Delilah.

"Excuse me for a moment."

I make my way out of the café. My breath is uneven, and my steps are not fully surefooted, but I do not trip and I count that as an accomplishment. The door swings open and the little bell tinkers behind me. There are no customers at the tables on our store front. It is very chilly nowadays, today seeming especially so. The few who are here now, have all opted to stay inside.

I wrap my arms around myself and crouch down, sitting gingerly on the sidewalk. I press my chin into my knees. My jacket is back inside, in one of the employee storage cabinets. The wind whistles, throwing my hair bangs across my face, and I find myself wanting to go back in already. Delilah's words nag at the back of my mind. I shake my head. It was mean to give me hope. Meaningless to even entertain the idea that some of what Liam and I had had, might have been real.

By the time I get up and go back in, Delilah's break is over, and she is wiping a cloth across the counter. She glances up briefly when I walk in, but she does not otherwise acknowledge my presence. We pass the rest of our shift in silence, only speaking necessities towards each other and customers.

Delilah stops me when the shift is over though.

"Arden, hey." she says.

I have just finished redoing my bun. I am on my way out now that I have retrieved my jacket, and I have folded my apron up and put it away into my bag. I pause in front of her, unsure.

Delilah holds out a take away cup. "I made you a coffee. On me."

"Thank you." I say back quietly.

I take it from her. I do like Delilah, and I do not want this weighty tension between us to last. I bring the cup up to my lips and take a sip. Classic mocha.

"I'm sorry about before. I do mean what I said, but maybe it isn't really any of my business. I know I can be blunt sometimes too."

Delilah's eyes are wide and apologetic. I smile carefully.

"It's okay." I answer. "I'll keep it all in mind."

I do not see Liam anywhere yet, so I wait for Delilah to get her things too, and we walk out together. She is attentively chatty now, doing her best to make me feel comfortable. We are both outside of the café when I stop her.

"I'm waiting for someone here." I tell her. "For school work."

"Oh," Delilah turns back to look at me. "Who?"

Her eyes seem to brighten up with interest when she looks at something behind me. My heart thrums. I feel rather than hear or see him first.

"Hey."