The Selfless Gene

Chapter 11

4 years ago

Isabella had left Thame to go for a run around the city, the heat of the afternoon finally cooling. Tracking with her phone, the last ten kilometres ended in the middle of the Old Town. Her mind usually cleared on runs, but she couldn't throw the one thought out of her head. She way she felt about Thame; it was a gentle yet passionate love, physically and mentally all-encompassing. But there was still something unsaid. What she'd seen, what she knew he could do. They never talked about it and he acted completely normally. He was special in so many ways, but this was the one thing that she couldn't access. She considers for the hundredth time how to broach it, to bridge that one gap that she knew would only grow over time. Undecided, she's stopped in her tracks.

Isabella stands paralysed: her stomach hits the floor, her breath stops, feet weighted to the ground. Her hands clasp to an imaginary floor; her scars ache. It's those eyes. With him. Her Thame. It couldn't be, but it was. They can't see her - she'd turned into the small winding streets by accident and they weren't looking for her. They're talking in secret and he's clearly involved with her. She looks again and sees that both the long grey hair and the feminine frame to the eyes were the same. It's that woman. Isabella manages to lift her legs that have suddenly become like lead, and as if walking on the moon, stumbles heavily into the cover of the narrow street.

Animated, Thame has made a point and stormed. That woman's eyes have turned down towards her, her street. She's walking right in her direction. Isabella's heart quickens further, almost bursting from her chest. She hasn't breathed for at least a minute when the eyes move past her, not giving her a moment's pause, consumed as they are in their own thoughts. As she passes, Isabella stars at her from behind her running sunglasses. It is her.

She took a while to get back, listlessly wandering around the coast and town. After circling for two hours, she realised she couldn't put off her return for ever. She picked up some food and drink for their little rental and proposed evening of drinks, cards, sunset and sex, so as to not give anything away.

Thame was on the terrace sunbathing as if he hadn't moved since she left.

"My God, I thought I'd have to call the coastguard or something."

"I completely lost track of time, sorry. It's a really lovely city to run."

Both of their tones had an unusual formality, their interaction becoming suddenly transactional. Thame could sense something was off. His hair pricked on his neck and his nose could cut new sweat from her taut muscles.

"Are you OK? Did something happen?" Thame gets up and moves towards her, arms outstretched.

Isabella tightens further and moves away. Physically it was just a foot or two, but mentally a giant chasm had been forced between them, and she'd opened a continent of space.

"No, no. Just really sweaty after my run. I'm going for a shower."

She quickly dashes away to the bathroom, her breath heavy from repeated restriction. In the shower, she gasps under the hot water and eventually slides down to the floor, hugging her legs.

They know each other. That wasn't him giving her directions. Is he a plant? Why would he do that? All the strength, the marks. I hate that woman, she ruined my life. He isn't like that. I loved him. Loved? He's sweet, funny, completely smitten with me. What is he truly hiding? This is his secret. You felt safe because he's so strong. But if he's that strong and against you, you won't feel safe. Buck up, Isabella. You're a woman. He's kind, but maybe not the man you thought. Maybe this is why he is sometimes a bit distant. Her. Keeping an eye on me because of my parents. My parents.

Isabella vomits in the shower. The water runs off her back and washes it away, but the smell lingers.

Run, hide. Survive.

Dinner was frosty. Thame cooked while Isabella drank a lot of wine. She pretended to read, watching Thame to see if he had a tell. There was nothing out of the ordinary but she had to keep her guard up, let the smokescreen of the drink be her strength. The conversation flowed between them but became a strange narration of their day, friends and the holiday. Like two chatbots, they were programmed well but the sincerity had gone.

Thame cleared away the plates and empty glasses from the terrace while Isabella watched the sunset. She feigned drunkenness and went to clean her teeth, taking the essentials from the bathroom.

"I'm heading to bed. Too much drink and sun."

"OK, I'll get ready too." Thame put his hand on her head affectionately.

With Thame in the bathroom, which was normally a long affair as he relaxed from the day with a long shower, a shave and attentively looked after his teeth, Isabella grabbed her clothes, threw them in her case, and dashed out of the flat. Before she left, she scribbled a note.

Thame, I'm sorry. I know this is cowardly but I can't pretend anymore. You're a great guy but I'm just not in love with you. I'm sorry.

I hoped this trip would change things, but I just don't feel the way you do. I think we're just different people, and you've still got work to do on you. You keep me at arms length and I need more. I think we'd be better off not being with each other.

I've gone to the airport. Don't follow.

Good luck in everything, and I hope one day we can be friends.

Isabella.