I'm Not in Love
CHAPTER22
Remi
It’s been the longest week of my life. Between missing Tristan so much I feel like a shell of the man I was when we were together, wondering what Tara and the kids are up to, and trying to come to terms with my lie, each day drags into its own agonizing forever.
I hate myself more every minute. My art is all that keeps me going.
In Human Series Sculpture class, Dacia invites me to Tommy and Jared’s indoor soccer game. “The game is tonight at the Garner City Field House at seven. Tara and Wendy will be there to watch, so you can see all three kids.”
I’m thrilled and terrified at once. “Tara gave the okay for me to come?” I won’t force my way into their presence.
“She isn’t exactly pleased, but yeah. The kids haven’t stopped asking about you all week, and it’s driving her crazy.”
“What about Tristan? Will he be at the game?” My heart pounds with what feels like hope.
“Don’t worry, you won’t have to see Tris. He’s modeling at the Wining Painter tonight.”
My heart sinks—I badly want to see him. He hasn’t reached out to me by call or text. Not that I expected him to do this; he said he needed time away from me. I want to tell myself that my worry is for Tristan’s state of mind alone, but I know the truth—my concern is for my psyche more than his.
My mood is dark. I’m depressed and lonely. I can’t eat or sleep. I’m a complete shitshow.
A major component of the new miserable me is an uncertainty that wasn’t part of my nature until I lost Tristan. I constantly question my decision to tell him I didn’t love him. Sure, I’m now safe from the prospect of losing a precious member of the Wilder family, but in the process of protecting my heart, I’ve lost myself.
“Come with me tonight, Dacia. I’ll pick you up at—”
“No thanks, dude. You’re on your own for this one.” She shoots me a smirk/glare combo and refocuses on building her armature for next week’s study in portrait sculpting. “Best of luck.”
I’m going to need it.
* * *
Remi
I takemy SUV to the game, although Garner City Field House is close enough to the loft for me to walk. I’m hoping Tara will accept a ride home… and when I carry Wendy inside the apartment, I’ll “accidentally” bump into Tristan. This is unlikely to happen for many reasons, but a man can dream.
It takes all my mental energy to push through the field house front doors. I’m met with the distinctive smell of sweaty cleats and a long stretch of turf fields under fluorescent lights, each separated by heavy netting. I pass a high school men’s soccer team and a coed team with kids who look too tiny to wear soccer cleats before coming to Jared and Tommy’s team. Their tie-dyed T-shirts say “Ball Kickers” in thick black font across the front, and I wonder how they managed to get that name past the league officials.
It doesn’t take long for the boys to spot me.
“Coach Remi, you came!” Tommy runs to me and gives me an enthusiastic fist bump.
Jared isn’t so friendly. He’s old enough to understand what a breakup is, and from his sour expression, I can tell he blames me. Correctly so because it’s my fault.
I saunter to the sideline to say hello. “Hey, buddy. I’m excited for your game tonight.”
“Like, whatevs.” He refuses to look at me.
Better to get ahead of this. “I’m sure you know that your uncle and I have… um, gone our separate ways.”
“Yeah.” He folds in half to stretch his calves. “I heard.”
“It doesn’t mean you and I can’t still be friends.”
“And me?” Tommy asks.
“Of course. And Wendy too.”
“Grown-up dudes—except for Uncle Tris—always take off on our family. I’m used to it. It’s no biggie.”
“I know it seems that way but—”
“Me and Tommy’s dad and Wendy’s dad both bolted. And now you.” He stands and faces me, his cheeks pink. “Lucky for me I don’t give a crap.”
I glance at the sidelines. Tara is sitting in a folding metal chair, observing us. Wendy is kneeling at her feet—her back turned—watching the little kids’ team play. Tara sends me one of those smirk/glares I got from Dacia in sculpting class. I offer a halfhearted wave, and when she doesn’t return it, I shrug.
“You’ll find that I’m different from them, Jared. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“I guess so.”
The coach calls the Ball Kickers together.
“See you after the game, guys. Remember what it takes to win.”
“Team effort!” Tommy shouts. He was paying attention during Jared’s fall season.