Page 17 of Because of Them

“Why didn’t you call her?”

My insides flip uncomfortably. Telling Audrey why I never called Linda would mean admitting a whole lot of feelings that I don’t think are reciprocated. I’m not sure I’m ready for them to be floating between us. But I chose honesty a moment ago, and I’m going to stand by that. I take another step closer, reaching out to rest my hand on her arm.

“Because I met you the next day.”

Audrey leans into my hand. All the stiffness in her posture melts away as I pull her to me.

“Everything changed when I met you Audrey, and sure I might still be young and stupid, but I don’t want the same things I used to any more.”

“What do you want?” The warmth from her breath slips its way through my top as she speaks directly against my chest. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close so she can’t step away when I tell her.

“You.” I admit, whispering the words into her hair.

Her body stiffens the tiniest amount as she squeaks a tiny gasp. I hold her in place, too afraid to look at her, too nervous that if I let go, she will run. She had to know that I felt this way, after all my texts,surely. But maybe there is something about finally hearing it that made the truth sink in.

Standing here, with my arms wrapped around her, I’m glad I never took Brendan’s advice. Glad I kept trying, kept reminding her that I was there, waiting. Waiting for her to be ready, waiting for her to open up about whatever it is that’s going on.

“Two skinny lattes for Mike.”

The barista’s cold voice cuts through the air. Audrey pushes away from me to collect our drinks. Linda’s scowl could melt ice, yet Audrey is nothing but fire and light.

“Thanks so much,” she drawls as she snatches the cups from Linda’s hands. There’s a remnant growl in her throat as she pivots on her heel. Her hips sway as she saunters back to me.

Passing me my coffee, her nose scrunches. She pulls her hand away the second I secure my fingers on the cup. “You told me not to call you that.”

“It doesn’t feel right anymore. Especially not from you.”

Mike is what all the girls called me. All the other women I flirted with, all the dates I went on trying to fill a void I wasn’t fully aware of. Mike is what my father calls me when he coddles me, like the child he still thinks I am. Mike is what the guys from work call me when we fuck around on a site.

But Mike is not what the woman I think I could spend the rest of my life with should call me. She should call me by my name, not my nickname. I want to be the man who makes everything right for her, and that deserves a ‘grown up name’. My mother always said they chose Michael because it worked for an adult, and Mike because it was cute. Audrey makes me want to be that adult my parents imagined.

When Audrey doesn’t respond, I shrug away the silence and gulp down my coffee. The creamy liquid burns its way down my throat, but I’m thankful for the distraction. The burn in my throat is easier to manage than the burn in my chest. That one feels like it will never go away.

Together, Audrey and I stroll down the wide path that heads into the Botanical Gardens. Baxter trots along beside me, occasionally pulling the lead towards birds or other dogs or children. Surrounded by all manner of trees and shrubs, it’s easy to forget how close we are to the centre of town. I imagine that’swhat the landscapers had intended when they planted the thick hedges around the perimeter.

The early spring sun is warm this morning, but sparse, fighting to be seen through the clouds. When it does push its way through, long shadows cast through the gardens. Dew still hangs off the leaves and the grass twinkles with moisture. I had imagined us sitting in the sun, soaking up its rays while we reconnected, but the longer we walk the less likely that seems.

Beside me, Audrey attempts to make small talk. Telling me about the house she sold to her ex-husband and asking me about my family. The whole thing is forced, but I fake my way through the pleasantries. Reminding myself that Audrey will open up when she is ready, I try to avoid the unknown elephant that follows us along the gravel track.

Deep in the gardens, our now empty cups hang loose by our sides. The clouds have started to clear and I wonder if we might sit in the sun after all. Audrey falls silent, finally done with the trivial conversation topics.

It’s only when we both stop talking that I noticed her laboured breaths; the way she heaves in every lungful of air like she just ran a marathon.

“Should we sit?” I gesture to a picnic table under a large oak tree. It’s not native, but it must be hundreds of years old, based on its size.

Audrey doesn’t answer, she just turns towards the table and heads over to sit down. When her ass hits the seat, her whole body slumps over until her head is between her legs. She pants faster than Baxter and I inch towards her. Glancing around, I search in vain for a refreshments stand or a drinking fountain.

Baxter pushes between Audrey’s legs. As he stares up at her with his deep brown eyes, his head cocks from side to side as though he is trying to understand what troubles her. When herbreathing steadies, he settles his head on her lap. Lucky fucking dog.

I sit next to her, close enough that our thighs are touching, but I resist the way my arm twitches. It wants to be around her, and I want it there too. I reach up gingerly, grazing her far shoulder with the slightest of strokes. She sits up at the touch, leaning her weight into me.

“Oh Michael, what are we going to do?”

Tucking Baxter’s lead under my leg, I reach across my lap with my free hand. Finding Audrey’s hands clinging together, I pry them apart to wrap my fingers around hers.

“What’s wrong?”

Her knee bounces against my leg.

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