The Lunchtime Special

Chapter 32 - To Be or Not To Be

Ever since Mia's hesitant response, I've felt as though I'm teetering on a cliff edge. At first I imagined she thought I was annoyed she wasn't coming down to Melbourne, so I made a point of calling every night and being cheerful and supportive, only to come away from each conversation with a vague sense of disquiet. Though we talk of everyday topics with our usual teasing banter, I'm struck each time by something in her voice that sounds strained. It's almost as if she's slipping away from me, withdrawing in increments, and I'm being eaten from the inside out with the possibility that one day soon I'll turn around and she'll be gone.

And I have no idea why. When I ask if I did or said anything to hurt or upset her, she insists I didn't – which is a relief, I have to admit, but only makes the puzzle more complex. I don't want to push it on the phone; some sixth sense tells me this should be discussed in person.

Work has been my salvation, giving me something to concentrate on, though I'm pretty sure I'm distracted enough not to be working as efficiently as both my boss and I would like. In every break my mind instantly returns to gnawing at the Mia dilemma, trying to make sense of it all and failing miserably. I can pinpoint the change in her demeanour to soon after the weekend we went sailing, but for the life of me I can't figure out what happened to cause it.

The weekend is almost upon us again; during Thursday night's phone call I broach the subject. "I'd love to see you this weekend; shall I fly up? Are you free?"

There's the small pause I dread before she answers. "No, I'll...I'll come down. Is Saturday night okay?"

"Of course," I assure her, a sharp pang in my chest and rock-like stricture in my throat. "Would you like to go out or stay in?"

"Stay in," is her immediate response, and I put that aside to stew over later.

"Sounds great. Let me know your flight details once you've booked."

"Okay." There's a minute or so of silence that feels like a lifetime before she adds, "Jake?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

It's the first time she's volunteered those words in a while and my heart soars with relief, blood thundering in my head as I catch my breath to say them back. "I love you too, sweetheart. I can't wait to see you."

Okay, maybe I've been worrying over nothing after all. Thank God.

---

I catch Mia's eye as soon as she appears at the gate, shuffling along behind a couple with two young and excited children. The smile she gives me makes me release a breath I hadn't realised until then I'd been holding, and my feet move toward her without me even having to will them to do so. When I get close enough for her scent to tease my senses, I inhale deeply and open my arms, thrilled when she turns into them.

"Hey," she murmurs quietly, still smiling.

I take a minute to look her over, but I don't want to reply with words; I pull her closer and place a hand on either cheek before lowering my lips to hers and within seconds I'm lost. Her softness and sweetness are all I need right now and I enjoy them to the fullest before we part, breathing a little faster and laughing a little self-consciously at the look a nearby QANTAS employee is giving us.

Taking Mia's hand and her overnight bag, I lead her out of the terminal and over to the car park. We chat on the drive into the city but I can't help noticing how quiet she gets when we reach my flat. I'm about to take her bag into my bedroom when she stops me.

"Just...leave it."

"Here?" I give her a questioning look and tease, "What, you're going to sleep on the couch?"

A shiver of apprehension runs through me when she doesn't laugh, but says instead, "Please Jake." I drop the bag behind an armchair and stand three feet away from her; for a minute she doesn't meet my eyes but when she does, her gaze comes with words I don't want to hear. "We need to talk."

Fuck. No good has ever come from that expression, in my experience. I swallow, aware of rocks stacking in my gut. "Okay."

"Can we sit?"

I nod, and she perches on the edge of the armchair while I take the couch. Tightness is building in my shoulders and neck as I wait for her to start. When she does, it's not quite what I was expecting.

"Where do you see us being six months from now?" I open my mouth to reply but before I can, she adds, "I don't mean...marriage or anything like that, just...do you see us still being...a couple?"

An image flashes through my mind; Mia in a white dress, my ring on her finger. It's not the first time I've seen that picture, but her words make me wonder whether I've been on the wrong track entirely and she doesn't see us as seriously or as permanently as I do. She's still waiting for an answer though, so I say, "Yes, of course." I almost add 'don't you?' but I'm not so sure she'd give the answer I want to hear.

"And where are we then?" she asks next, "Are you still in Melbourne and I'm still in Springwood and we're travelling up and down each weekend?"

"I guess so." I haven't given that aspect of it a lot of thought.

"How about in a year's time?"

"I don't know; I haven't thought about it. Mia..."

"Two years? Five? Where are we then?"

"Mia...fuck. What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me how long you see us doing this long distance thing and if you see an end to it, what happens?"

I stare at her, trying to decipher her expression so I can answer the way she wants but worried that my life is about to unravel in front of my eyes. "We do it for as long as it works. I don't mind doing all the travelling if you don't want to..."

She looks frustrated. "That's not what I'm saying."

I run a hand through my hair, beginning to feel her frustration. "What are you saying then?"

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes briefly, like she's regrouping. "I'm saying you're a city boy; you love living in Melbourne and have no desire to go anywhere else. Would you say that's fair?"

"Yes."

This time she exhales, a short, sharp sound as if she's taken a punch to the stomach. "But I'm not, Jake." Her voice is quieter, smaller. "My life is in a small community; my livelihood is there, and that's not something I can uproot and take anywhere else, even if I wanted to."

Even if I wanted to. Fuck, now I know where this is all leading.

"Our lifestyles are incompatible, Jake," she continues in a low tone. "We could carry on as we are but unless one of us makes a sacrifice...and ultimately ends up miserable and resentful...then we...we can't end up together."

Her words fall into the silence and the rock pile in my stomach is blasted with C4 explosive, leaving me hollow and empty and in pain.