I FOUND HER IN THE COFFEE SHOP.
Her sunken eyes didn't watch life pass by on the road outside the glass, her unfocused gaze not scanning the street, instead, her green eyes were fixed on a spot of the asphalt in the middle of the road, her hands resting calmly beside a cup of coffee on the table.
She wasn't wearing any makeup, neither was she dressed up quite lavishly. Her hair was tied into a messy ponytail and looked like it hadn't been washed in days, and an open textbook was perched on the table, but pushed further away from her.
Even if this wasn't the version of her I'd saved from getting run over three weeks ago, my heart got stuck in my throat staring at her bloody gorgeous face.
I began to walk toward her, maybe try to explain myself to her, and her face snapped towards me immediately.
She locked eyes with me, and gave a tiny shake of her head.
I paused, surprised. Was she really that mad?
She jerked her head as subtle as possible to the counter, where a barista was staring at me, wide-eyed, obviously recognising me.
I understood at once. This barista was the one who spilled to E! about my 'date' with Claudia - and seeing me sitting down with someone else could probably cause headlines, again.
So instead I sat down at two tables away from Hanna, facing the big glass window. I pulled out my phone.
hanna
i heard your radio interview
I looked up, and glanced sideways. She too had brought out her phone, but she wasn't looking at it. She had gone back to staring outside the window, but now her gaze looked more forced, solid, and alert.
you
i'm sorry.
hanna
before i make a decision
i need to know
why
I took a deep breath, gazing back up. This time, she was staring back, looking hard into my eyes, but I couldn't make out the expression on her face. Angry? Disappointed? Depressed? Her face was devoid of emotion, just staring at me in my eyes, daring me to give one good answer to a question with many hidden meanings.
In that moment, I knew it wouldn't do over text. It wasn't just a virtual conversation anymore. If we ever, ever wanted to sort our shit out, we'd have to do it for real.
Face to face.
I calmly got up and strolled to her, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the barista from earlier bring out her phone, and start filming.
I found out I couldn't care less.
I paused by the empty chair opposite her, and finally saw an emotion visible under the shadows of her face.
Hope.
And that was the push I needed.
"I'm sorry,"I began, "for every lie I told you. It's hard to connect to a normal life, but you became the bridge that made that possible. And I didn't want to lose that. I hope you can understand why I fucked up. You deserve much more than what I did. You deserved the truth. You deserved a good.....friend."
The word hung for a while between us, and she exhaled softly. She glanced behind me, presumably to the filming barista, and stood up.
She extended her arm, making way for a handshake.
"A clean slate."she simply said.
I took it, and she surprisingly pulled me in for a hug, and so I held her tightly.
"Nice to meet you, Fionn Whitehead. I'm Hanna Marc."
I smiled, and I knew she was most likely smiling too.
"Hey, Hanna Marc, nice pony onesie."
-
and we're done.
epilogue soon.
