“I believe that’s unavoidable.” He laughed, and the bubble of tension between us burst. I’d forgotten that; he spoke so carefully and always seemed to know exactly what to say, but laughed without a hint of reservation. The creases at the corners of his eyes deepened, and his wide smile showed his straight, white teeth.
The relief of the moment overwhelmed me, and I laughed, too. And once I started, I couldn’t stop. It felt good to let down the walls I’d built up in the face of all my fears. I had anticipated getting fired, and that wasn’t going to happen, at least not today. I’d thought that things between Neil and I would be weird, and they were. But it wasn’t the end of the world, and I wasn’t the only one suffering. That did a lot to ease my mind.
“Oh, Sophie.” He shook his head, his smile dimming just a little. “I’ve thought about you so much. I was such a deplorable ass.”
“Or Leif was a deplorable ass,” I scolded, and found myself somewhat shocked to be playfully teasing, rather than truly angry.
“In my defense, Leif is my middle name. I didn’t pull it out of the air.” His green eyes met mine, and I didn’t feel the uncomfortable urge to look away this time. He lowered his voice. “Did I ruin your life? Taking those tickets?”
No, he hadn’t. He’d saved it, but I couldn’t tell him that. It would be too much like excusing him. “I had a choice. You left me plenty of money. I could have waited for another flight, and I didn’t. I bought the ticket to New York. I made my choice.”
“And you don’t regret it?” he asked cautiously.
I shrugged. “I do wonder what might have happened differently in my life, but I’m happy where I am.”
“Good.” He paused. “I’ve thought about how things could have been different, as well.”
My throat almost closed off with the anxiety those words inspired in me. Did he mean between us? Or the way we parted? Or just that yesterday would have been so much easier for him if I’d spent it in Japan?
“I have to be honest.”
I absolutely hated when other people used that phrase, and Neil was no exception. Those words made me simultaneously denounce everything a person said so far as a lie, and suspect everything that came after. And that was a shame, because I really, really wanted to believe what he said next.
“I’ve often regretted the way we left things. And I’ve wondered how it might have been different, if we’d stayed in contact.” His mouth quirked, and melancholy lines deepened on his forehead. “I almost had the driver turn around and come back for you on my way to the airport. And then at the gate, I kept hoping that you’d... I don’t know, somehow show up. Or the flight would be delayed again. I almost didn’t get on the plane. But at that point I knew it was too late. I’d fucked it all up the moment I’d left that hotel room. If I could do things over, I promise, I would do them differently.”
It’s utterly bizarre how a kind sentiment can hurt you as much as a cruel one. My heart shattered in my chest. Yeah, I’d thought of what my life would have been like if we’d gotten on that plane together. Maybe we would have met up again in Tokyo. It could have been a Lost in Translation kind of thing, and we could have lived happily ever after. The fact that he’d been considering such an outcome as well wounded me deeply.
Which was absurd, I reminded myself. You knew him for less than twenty-four hours. Love at first sight doesn’t exist. Though I knew deep down that I was mourning the idea of him and not any great love, it still hurt.
“Are you all right?” he asked, concern darkening his gaze.
I nodded, and took a sip of my water to swallow down the lump in my throat. Setting the glass back on the table, I said with forced cheerfulness, “Isn’t it strange that we’re meeting up again now?”
I realized the moment I said it that he would take it for more than it was, as though I were professing some kind of fate or destiny situation. His eyebrows rose, and he glanced nervously away, as if he were looking for a net to suddenly surround him. “Yes, well, I couldn’t... get involved with you. Or with anyone, right now. I’m going through a bit of a nasty divorce.”
“I wasn’t—” I stopped myself. Better to forge ahead than try to explain away the past in these types of conversations. “I wouldn’t be interested in anything, either.”
“Oh?” Was that disappointment I heard in his voice? “You’re seeing someone, then?”