"Hey are you there?" I say sat in an alleyway a few houses from James', the phone pressed to my ear and hands shoved tightly into my coat pockets.
The floor is damp, and a slight breeze plays with the ends of my hair.
I'm greeted by silence for a moment, followed with a small sigh, which makes evident James' ever growing annoyance. "Yes. I'm here."
I smile. But it's not convincing, I know we're ending. The wind is stronger now, stinging at my ears. "Great how are-"
"Ivy." James' soft voice cuts me off, and if it was anyone else but him, I would have been annoyed by the interruption.
I shake my head and it's happening again. My eyes start to sting and swell, and there's a lump growing hard in the back of my throat. And God this hurts. "Please don't do this, I need you James." I whisper, any louder and I might just fall apart.
"You don't." But we both know that that's a lie.
I need him. I didn't know I needed him until we first met and he showed me kindness and compassion behind imagination. I didn't realise I needed James, until he left. "Bullshit! You know I can't live without you James. I love you and I need you. Please!" And this is getting pathetic now, we both know that. But we both also know how honest and open I'm being right now, I do need him.
The line goes silent for a second, and I can imagine him piecing all the words together to break my heart. He would run a hand through his dark brown hair and aggressively rub the temples on his forehead. Like he did when we first ended a month ago, like James did when he first broke my heart.
The silence is killing me, and James must feel it too as he coughs into the microphone, "Where are you?" James says, and my stomach begins to bunch.
My heart warms with hope for a minute, despite the constant frosty breeze blowing down the alleyway. James wants to see me, maybe he'll want to work things out. Maybe he'll want to be Ivy and James again.
James should know where I am. I'm somewhere lost between James and me and there is so much unnecessary space between us. 'I'm where I normally am." And no more explanation is needed, James knows me all too well.
The phone call comes to an end and a few moments later he appears at the end of the alleyway. A few pieces of chestnut hair are blown into his eyes as he makes his way to me, his hands pushed deep into his puffer jacket's pockets.
I want him to hold me, to let him consume me in his arms. A soft half smile pulls at the ends of his lips as he stands across from me, but I can tell he's growing tired of this, of us. "Ivy, we can't keep doing this. You can't keep coming over here."
I know. I know it's the truth. My heart is no longer warm, the feeling has been replaced with a sharp stabbing pain. But the little voice in my head keeps telling me this is where I belong. This is where I need to be, with the person I'm meant to be with. "James, I don't want you to b-break my heart." And it's happening, I can feel it.
My heart sinks deeper into my chest and a few tears dare to fall down my cheek. His blue eyes begin to soften, which makes it all the more apparent that this was never his intention, he never meant to break my heart. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I care a lot about you."
I watch as his lips curve up slightly and I imagine how nice it would be if he was kissing me with those same lips. How nice it would be if James was holding me like he used to. I wish he would tell me he needs me too, and that this was all a mistake. I wish we could go back to being Ivy and James. Back to being in love.
James looks tired, I can tell by the way his shoulders are slouched forward and the evident purple under his eyes. The tiredness is etched to his bones. I think he's tired of me, us and our situation. A little bit of me is too.
"This isn't fair." And it isn't.
How can I be so in love with him? And James not feel a thing anymore. How can it all go away so quick and easy for him?
He breaks the distance between us and wraps his arms around me. At first my arms are limp and stay by my side. I can't decide if this close proximity is a good idea, but I place my hands loosely around James' waist, any tighter and I might not let go. "I know. I know." He whispers into my ear and pushes a lock of knotty hair behind my ear.
But he doesn't really know, and a little bit of me hates him for that. James gets to move on. He gets to go on dates and meet prettier and funnier girls. He gets the opportunity to carry on. While I will always be this. Waiting for a call or text. Anything that will give me hope that we haven't ended. I will always be waiting for him.
"I'll always care about you." I wait for the crack in his voice, but it isn't there, how isn't he hurting right now?
"Why did I let myself get involved with you?"
He's silent. Frozen in his own thoughts. James himself doesn't remember why we started. He doesn't remember why we became Ivy and James. "I'm glad you did." He says squeezing my shoulder, "I'm grateful for every minute I spent with you." He rests his head on top of mine and rubs my back in circles.
A little part of me thinks he's lying. He's trying to stop me from hurting, because James is kind. Maybe too kind. "Thank you." I whisper into his shoulder, as a few tears fall from my cheek and dampen his coat.
The alleyway doesn't seem as cold as previously but it's raining now and James notices that I'm shivering slightly. With one hand around my waist, he guides me out of the alleyway and down the street until we come to his house. It's a thin townhouse and from the outside it looks abandoned with a crooked door and frosted windows. Every light is off, and the curtains are drawn. But it has become a place of comfort for me, a place I used to call my second home.
He fiddles with the lock for a moment and then lets me tiptoe inside. I take extreme care when taking the stairs, I don't want to wake his mom and face her disapproval. Anyone and everyone can see how we should have ended a long time ago. But me, I'm still clinging on to the hope that we can somehow make this work. That I can somehow fix how James feels about me.
James takes my left hand and leads me from the corridor to his room. Not much has changed since the last time I was here. There's still old band posters peeling off of his walls, a mountain of unwashed clothes in the corner and a fresh book is still waiting to be read on his bed side cabinet.
James pulls back his bedsheets for me and I take a seat on the edge of the bed. Please just hold me like you used to. I climb beneath the duvet and pull it up until it reaches my neck. James grabs a pillow and blanket from the closet and makes a bed on the floor beside me. And now he's staring at me with those big blue eyes and for a moment I think he's going to move and get in beside me. But he looks hesitant and sadness is etching onto his every feature as a frown knots between his brow. My stomach starts to twist and there's a sharp ache in my chest again "James?"
"Yes?" He blinks at me, and even in the dark, I can still see the freckles brushed perfectly across his nose.
I roll over so my back is facing him. "Goodnight." I whisper pushing my head under the covers.
James sighs as the floor creaks under his weight, "Goodnight Ivy."
***
I wake up before James does, as the sunrise is just about seeping through his navy blue curtains. He looks so peaceful laying on his side, the blanket cocooned around his muscular body and mouth slightly ajar. A few pieces of James' brown hair cover his eyes as he tries to flick the strands away in his sleep. But the dark circles are still resting beneath his eyes, he's still tired.
I decide I've overstayed my welcome, I shouldn't have come here last night. I shouldn't have come to see him. This was a bad idea. I push the duvet off of my slender body and tiptoe around James. He looks so peaceful in his sleep, so calm and content. How can he not feel the same ache that I feel? How can James be so okay?
Its becoming so clear now. So clear that James doesn't love me anymore. And there's this twinge in my chest where my heart aches and the ache runs down to the tip of my fingers.
I quietly tiptoe out of James' room and make my way to the exit, taking two steps at a time. "Ivy?" A soft voice calls out from behind me.
I realise I know that voice and I cringe at the thought of James' mom seeing me here, especially when I'm meant to be staying away. "Hi Maria." Shame laces my voice as I feel a red heat creep up my neck to my cheeks.
A sympathetic smile crosses her lips as she grips a mug of coffee between her hands. Maria's soft brown hair reminds me of James' and is placed carefully in a bun on top of her head. She's wearing a soft pink dressing grown that compliments her olive skin. "What are you doing here?" She asks in a calm tone, but we both know the answer to that.
"I'm going now, I just had to see him." My voice cracks and her smiles falters.
Maria comes rushing down the stairs and places the mug on the wooden sideboard beside me. Her arms wrap around my neck and I bury my head into her shoulder. "Sweetheart, I know. I know how much you're hurting."
I don't know whether Maria does know how much this is killing me, but I chose to believe her. I chose to believe that I am not the only one going through this heartbreak, that I am not the only one grieving.
She rubs the back of my head gently and sighs. Trying not to cry in front of her is so hard and eventually small sobs leave my lips and Maria squeezes me tighter. "Do you want to talk about it?" She releases me and takes a few steps back, worry occupying her every feature, "It might make you feel better."
I nod and follow her into the kitchen, where she flicks on the kettle and begins to make me a mug of tea. Maria knows just how I like it, strong with one sugar. She places a pale blue mug in front of me and I blow at it a few times before taking a sip. "Ivy, you know you're always welcome in my home." She pauses.
I can see the words at the tip of her tongue, but unlike James, Maria is trying not to break my heart. She's trying to preserve any last hope I have of being okay. "But I think you need to stay away from James. Seeing him so often isn't good for you."
I don't want to stay away from him. I just want James, and I want James to want me. My lips are still quivering slightly and my eyes have begun to swell but the crying has stopped for the moment. "I know. I'm trying." I lie and chew on my bottom lip to conceal it.
"Love sucks."
I fidget in my seat for a moment, it's clear that this conversation is uncomfortable for the both of us. Maria nods and brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I know how you feel Ivy, I've felt the same way when James' father left me."
I remember when this happened, I remember James cancelling plans of ours to spend time with his mom, I remember having to stay away for a while. But I didn't mind back then, because we were still James and Ivy. We were still together. "How did you cope?" I ask quietly, my voice threatens to crack.
For a moment she's silent and I think I've overstepped the line, but then she shakes her head and the side of her lips lifts up into a half smile. "Ivy, I just want you to know that just because this didn't work out, doesn't mean you're hard to love. This doesn't mean you're not good enough."
She reassuringly squeezes my hand again and her eyes begin to glass over, "You just asked the wrong person to try love you."
Her smile falls slightly when she notices that I'm staring at her with red eyes and a frown knotted between my brow. Maria comes round the table and places a small kiss on the top of my head. "Thank you." And I mean it.
Maria's blue eyes beam down at me as she leaves the room. I slurp down the rest of my tea when I hear his voice upstairs. Maria and James are talking in hushed whispers and without any context I know it's about me. My ears don't have to burn to know that.
I rush to the sink to quickly wash my mug and use the back door to exit. I don't want James to see me like this. I don't want him to look at me with those sad, sympathetic eyes. I don't want him to think I'm hopeless. Running across the lawn I use the back gate and head back to the alleyway where this all began.
And for a moment I catch my breath, resting on a rusty lamppost. I can see James' house from here, and the empty feeling in my stomach reminds me that I've left a part of me there, a part of me with him. The curtains in the back bedroom are pulled, open and a tall figure replaces them. James is staring at me, a hand running through his hair, a tired expression on his face. His eyes are empty for a moment, until he realises the brown-haired girl standing in the alleyway isn't a stranger. The girl in the alleyway has been a lover and a friend, and now she's nothing at all.