“I swear that fucking scarf gets longer every time I see it,” I tell them. “Are you, like, adding panels to it every week?”
Mari lifts the scarf up for inspection, and then their face breaks into a wistful smile. “I’m not. But maybe I will now, seeing as it annoys you so much.”
I sigh. “You know, you could find a new hobby. Surely ‘trying to piss Lex off’ is getting a little old now.”
“I don’t know,” Mari muses with a glint in her eye. “Why stop now when I’m getting so good at it?”
I bite back a laugh. I swear, Mari was never this stubborn when we were growing up. But that’s probably also why they put up with so much of my shit. It’s probably a good thing they’re less of a pushover now. No, not probably. Definitely.
Well, let’s put it to the test.
“I’m going to ask Roos if I can move in with her,” I tell them. “To take care of her.”
Mari stares at me blankly for a full minute. “Are you being for fucking real right now?”
“Yes, I’m being serious.”
“Lex, you are the last person I would want looking after Roos.”
I square my shoulders. “Do I have to remind you that you know nothing about mine and Roos’ relationship? About what it was like when it was good?”
“I know enough.” They fold their arms over their full chest and swathes of scarf. “You left her. Twice. Roos needs somebody reliable, dependable. That’s not you.”
“So it’s you?” I ask, trying not to raise my voice. We’re in a private room, but I don’t want Roos to wake up. “Even though you’veonly spent, oh, I don’t know, a handful of nights with Roos in the long three months you’ve known her?”
“I needed that space for a good reason. Roos understood.”
“But now it’s different? Now you’re ready to be in it, a hundred percent?”
Mari’s eyes narrow on me, and their head tilts to the side. “I don’t know, Lex, areyou?”
It’s not a question. It’s an accusation.
“I’m ready to be there for Roos.”
“Why is now different?”
“Because she needs me.” I point to Roos lying limp and unconscious in the bed.
“She needed you before. She’s always needed you!” There’s anger in Mari’s raised voice, and there’s also pain. It makes me flinch. I don’t like the idea of causing Mari pain, even though I know I have caused them pain in the past, and if I’m really honest with myself, I fear I may still be doing so.
“And what about you?” I feel my defensiveness gain momentum. “Is that why you can’t stand the sight of me? Because I left you when you needed me?”
Mari’s features seem to shrink, tightening and closing up. Silence falls between us, and I’m confident I’m not going to get an answer to my questions.
But not for the first time, Mari proves me wrong.
“You didn’t leave me when I needed you,” they say. When I look at them, their eyes are on a loose thread in their scarf that they’re playing with. “I never needed you back then. But Iwantedyou. And I loved you.” Finally, they look up and their bright blue eyes challenge mine. “You left me as I was falling in love with you. And that’s worse.”
It’s my turn to shrink. To feel like I’m shrivelling up, and that I deserve to. I think about my next words very carefully, and it hurts to say them out loud.
“I left you when I was falling in love with you, too,” I say, holding their gaze. I swear their eyes mist over. Or maybe it’s mine doing so. “I left youbecauseI was falling in love with you. Because I loved you. And I didn’t want to need you.”
Mari’s expression is one of pure confusion. “That makes no sense.”
I sigh and look back down at Roos’ hand in mine. Her red nail polish is chipped. I want to kiss all the places her natural nails shine through.
“You should know by now,” I say, “I rarely make sense.”