Back to You

Like a Tempest

I was in a tailspin as I walked out to the driveway with Shayla closing the front door behind me. I hadn't seen her in about two months, and I sure as shit hadn't expected to see her here today. I knew whatever she had to say, though... I didn't want to hear it.

Even though no one else knew it, I knew that I was still broken over the way she'd left things.

She'd had no problem kicking me to the curb to make her parents happy and before our relationship was even cold, she pursued a relationship with the son of her parents' oldest friends. A guy she'd grown up with over vacations and family get-togethers, much like Belly and I had with Conrad and Jeremiah.

I'd been blindsided the day she'd shown up at my off-campus apartment to end things, and seeing her here today brought it all back, and it didn't hurt any less than it had when she'd walked away from me back then.

Flashback:

I was downstairs in the weight room of my apartment, working out, when Shayla pleasantly surprised me by walking in the door. 

I got off the machine I was on as she approached me.

"Hey, can we talk?" she asked, only giving me a quick, cursory hug, and my throat dried. 'Can we talk?' Conversations never went well.

"Sure, we can head back upstairs to my apartment," I told her, grabbing my water bottle and sweat towel off the machine.

"No... I... I don't... I don't have much time," she said, finally spitting it out.

"Okay... what's going on, Shay?" I asked, but deep in the pit of my stomach, I knew I didn't want to hear the answer. That whatever she had to say was going to devastate me.

And I was right. It took Shayla a mere sixty seconds to tell me we were over. She had doubts about us and felt she needed to let me go to pursue other things.

I couldn't catch my breath; the words stuck in my throat overriding my need to speak.

The only word I managed to get out was "Shayla..." and it sounded weepy and pathetic as she turned and headed towards the glass exit door, only turning at the last minute to say, "I'm sorry, Steven... I wish things could be different." And then she was gone, and we were over.

Now, here she was again, standing just half a foot away from me, wanting to talk, and I didn't know how to process that gracefully as I began to stumble over my words.

"Wha... why... why are you here?" I finally asked, and I could see the tears she was holding back in her eyes.

"Because I thought... I thought I'd handle it a lot better when this day came... but I freaked out, and I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be here, but I just... I needed you to know how I feel before you do this," Shayla said, her eyes barely leaving the ground.

To say I was confused would be accurate.

I could feel my anger growing. She wasn't being any more forthcoming than she had been on the day she'd ended us.

"You came here to talk... so talk. I have things I should be doing right now," I told her, still trying to make heads or tails of her sudden urge to communicate with me again.

"I know. I'm sorry. My timing sucks. I get it; it's just... I went to your apartment, and that guy you have staying with you told me about the wedding.

"You went to my apartment?" I couldn't help asking. "Why?"

"Because... because I wanted to see you to tell you how sorry I am for everything. I tried it my parents' way, and it didn't work. All I did was compare Evan to you; he never measured up. I don't love him like you... I never did," she finished.