don’t, or didn’t used to, run away from my problems. Running wouldn’t help anything anyway. If I want to keep my friendships within the group I’ve come to claim as family in Norfolk, I have to work something out with J.C. At least be able to be in the same room together without the animosity we had before the holidays.
Kandice assists my mom to her room and within a couple minutes she’s back and excusing herself for the day. I can’t help but feel that Mom may have said something to her, because she doesn’t even glance in J.C.’s direction. I somehow manage to keep my smile hidden; even in her sickness, she’s still looking out for me.
The front door clicks shut with her departure and the tension immediately climbs to a new level in the small living room. J.C. has yet to break eye contact with me.
“So,” I start aimlessly tidying up the already spotless living room just to avoid looking at him, “thanks for coming out here, it really wasn’t necessary.”
“Jo. Why didn’t you tell me what’s going on with your mom?” J.C. asks.
He knows more about my mom’s illness than anyone else in our group. During many of those late night, after sex cuddle sessions with J.C., I may have cried and leaned on him for support.
“You were deployed… and not speaking to me anyway.”
I keep my attention on mindlessly stacking the already showroom ready magazines, but it doesn’t work when a large hand settles on my shoulder blade. I freeze, lost in all of the feelings that his simple touch does to me.
“That's a bullshit excuse. You know damn good and well that I would have talked to you regarding this...it's your mom!” He throws his hands up, exasperated with my careless tone towards him. “Are you even gonna look at me? I came all the way out here to see you, it's the very least you can do,” J.C.’s voice is lined with hurt.
“No one asked you to come out here, J.C. I was handling everything on my own; I didn't need anyone to take care of me. So why are you here?”
I stand and cast a quick glance at him. His facial expression and posture now match the hurt sound in his voice.
He has every right to be; I've done nothing but cause him damage for the past year or so. First my refusal to admit we were anything more than a casual hook up, then the miscarriage, followed by six months of silent treatment. Although, I don't think the silent treatment can all be blamed on me, he had a part in that too. And now that he's here, effectively ending our stalemate silent war, I treat him as if I don't want him here.
“I know,” he sounds defeated. “But I wanted to be here. Hell, I needed to be here. I hate the way we left things and I'll do anything to get us back, darlin’.”
With a loud sigh, I turn to face him finally.
“J.C., what's done is done with us. Eventually I'll get past my hurt and we can go back to being friends, but it's gonna take time.”
My words cut deep, and judging by his expression, they bring out some anger. He runs both hands through the sides of his hair in frustration.
“You and I both know we can't go back to friends. And we both know that's not what either of us wants.”
The reality of his words shatter another piece of my heart, because I know he's right. We can't go back, and while I didn't know his feelings, I've known for a while I would never be happy with just friends. Part of me is excited to hear that he feels the same way, but ultimately he just told me what I feared, I've lost him for good.
J.C.
Fuck .
That was the last thing I expected either of us to say. This entire talk has been a disaster from the get go.
“I uh, thank you. For coming out here, I appreciate it. You probably made Mom’s week by showing up.”
There's an awkwardness lingering between us, something we've never had in the four years we've known each other.
This is the exact opposite of the reunion I wanted for us. Not that I had expected everything to fall back into our old