He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, shaking his head. “I’m so confused,” he says. “You were alone with them for ten minutes.”
I laugh. “You can learn a lot about someone in ten minutes.” I try to redirect the conversation. “So how do you all know each other?”
Darin leans forward and points at himself. “I’m the sous chef at Bib’s.” He points at Brad. “He’s the dishwasher.”
“For now,” Brad interjects. “I’m working my way up.”
“What about you?” I say to Jimmy.
He smirks and says, “Take a guess.”
Based on the way he dresses and the fact that he’s been called arrogant and pompous, I’d have to assume . . . “Maître d’?”
Atlas laughs. “Jimmy actually works in valet.”
I glance back at Jimmy and raise an eyebrow. He tosses three poker chips down and says, “It’s true. I park cars for tips.”
“Don’t let him fool you,” Atlas says. “He works in valet, but only because he’s so rich he gets bored.”
I smile. It reminds me of Allysa. “I have an employee like that. Only works because she’s bored. She’s actually the best employee I have.”
“Damn straight,” Jimmy mutters.
I take a look at my cards when it’s my turn and toss in the three poker chips. Atlas’s phone rings and he pulls it out of his pocket. I’m raising the pot with another chip when he excuses himself from the table to take the call.
“Fold,” Brad says, slapping his cards on the table.
I’m watching the hallway Atlas just disappeared down in a hurry. It makes me wonder if he’s talking to Cassie, or if there’s someone else in his life. I know what he does for a living. I know he has at least three friends. I just know nothing about his love life.
Darin lays his cards on the table. Four of a kind. I lay down my straight flush and reach forward for all the poker chips as Darin groans.
“So does Cassie not usually come to poker night?” I ask, fishing for more information on Atlas. Information I’m too scared to ask him myself.
“Cassie?” Brad says.
I stack my winnings up in front of me and nod. “Isn’t that his girlfriend’s name?”
Darin laughs. “Atlas doesn’t have a girlfriend. I’ve known him for two years and he’s never mentioned anyone named Cassie.” He begins passing out new cards, but I’m trying to absorb the information he just gave me. I pick up my first two cards when Atlas walks back into the room.
“Hey, Atlas,” Jimmy says. “Who the hell is Cassie and how come we’ve never heard you talk about her?”
Oh, shit.
I’m completely mortified. I tighten my grip around the cards in my hands and try to avoid looking up at Atlas, but the room grows so quiet, it would be more obvious if I didn’t look at him.
He’s staring at Jimmy. Jimmy is staring at him. Brad and Darin are staring at me.
Atlas folds his lips together for a moment and then says, “There is no Cassie.” His eyes meet mine, but only for a brief second. But in that brief second, I can see it written all over his face.
There never was a Cassie.
He lied to me.
Atlas clears his throat and then says, “Listen, guys. I should have cancelled tonight. This week has been kind of . . .” He rubs his hand over his mouth and Jimmy stands up.
He squeezes Atlas on the shoulder and says, “Next week. My place.”
Atlas nods appreciatively. The three of them begin to gather their cards and poker chips. Brad pries my cards from my fingers apologetically because I’m unable to move as I clutch them tightly.
“It was lovely meeting you, Lily,” Brad says. I somehow find the strength to smile and stand up. I give them all hugs goodbye and after the front door closes behind them, it’s just me and Atlas in the room.
And no Cassie.
Cassie’s never even been in this room, because Cassie doesn’t exist.
What the hell?
Atlas hasn’t moved from his spot near the table. Neither have I. He’s standing firm with his arms folded across his chest. His head is slightly tilted down but his eyes are boring into me from across the table.
Why would he lie to me?
Ryle and I weren’t even an official couple yet when I ran into Atlas at that restaurant the first time. Hell, if Atlas had given me any reason to believe there was a chance between us that night, I know without a doubt that I would have chosen him over Ryle. I barely even knew Ryle at that point.
But Atlas didn’t say anything. He lied to me and told me he’d been in a relationship for an entire year. Why? Why would he do that unless he didn’t want me to think I had a chance with him?
Maybe I’ve been wrong all this time. Maybe he never even loved me to begin with and he knew that inventing this Cassie person would keep me away from him for good.
Yet, here I am. Crashing at his house. Interacting with his friends. Eating his food. Using his shower.
I can feel the tears begin to sting my eyes and the last thing I want is to stand in front of him and cry right now. I walk around the table and rush past him. I don’t make it far when he grabs my hand. “Wait.”
I stop, still facing the other direction.
“Talk to me, Lily.”
He’s right behind me now, his hand still wrapped around mine. I pull it away from him and walk to the other side of the living room.
I spin and face him just as the first tear rolls down my cheek. “Why did you never come back for me?”
He looked prepared for anything to come out of my mouth other than the words I just spoke to him. He runs a hand through his hair and walks to the couch, taking a seat. After blowing out a calming breath, he carefully looks over at me.
“I did, Lily.”
I don’t allow air to move in or out of my lungs.
I stand completely still, processing his answer.
He came back for me?
He folds his hands together in front of him. “When I got out of the Marines the first time, I went back to Maine, hoping to find you. I asked around and found out which college you went to. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I showed up, because we were two different people by then. It had been four years since we saw each other. I knew a lot about both of us had probably changed in those four years.”
My knees feel weak, so I walk to the chair next to him and lower myself. He came back for me?
“I walked around your campus the whole day looking for you. Finally, late that afternoon, I saw you. You were sitting in the courtyard with a group of your friends. I watched you for a long time, trying to work up the courage to walk over to you. You were laughing. You looked happy. You were vibrant like I’d never seen you before. I had never felt that kind of happiness for another person like I felt when I saw you that day. Just knowing you were okay . . .”
He pauses for a moment. My hands are clenched around my stomach, because it hurts. It hurts knowing I was so close to him and I didn’t even know.
“I began walking toward you when someone came up behind you. A guy. He dropped to his knees next to you and when you saw him, you smiled and threw your arms around him. Then you kissed him.”
I close my eyes. He was just a boy I dated for six months. He never even made me feel a fraction of what I had felt for Atlas.
He blows out a sharp breath. “I left after that. When I saw that you were happy, it was the worst and best feeling a person could ever have at once. But I believed at that point that my life was still not good enough for you. I had nothing to offer you but love, and to me, you deserved more than that. The next day I signed up for another tour in the Marines. And now . . .” He tosses his hand up lazily in the air, like nothing about his life is impressive.
I bury my head in my hands to take a moment. I quietly grieve what could have been. What is. What wasn’t. My fingers move to the tattoo on my shoulder. I begin to wonder if I’ll ever be able to fill in that hole now.
It makes me wonder if Atlas ever feels like I felt when I got this tattoo. Like all the air is being let out of his heart.
I still don’t understand why he lied to me after running into me at his restaurant. If he really felt the things I felt for him, why would he make something like that up?
“Why did you lie about having a girlfriend?”
He rubs a hand over his face and I can already see the regret before I even hear it in his voice. “I said that because . . . you looked happy that night. When I saw you telling him goodbye, it hurt like hell, but at the same time I was relieved that you seemed to be in a really good place. I didn’t want you to worry about me. And I don’t know . . . maybe I was a little jealous. I don’t know, Lily. I regretted lying to you as soon as I did it.”
My hand goes to my mouth. My mind starts to race just as fast as my heart is racing. I instantly start thinking about the what-ifs. What if he would have been honest with me? Told me how he’d felt? Where would we be now?
I want to ask him why he did it. Why he didn’t fight for me. But I don’t have to ask him, because I already know the answer. He thought he was giving me what I wanted, because all he’s ever wanted for me was happiness. And for some stupid reason, he’s never felt I could get that with him.
Considerate Atlas.
The more I think about it, the more difficult it becomes to breathe. I think about Atlas. Ryle. Tonight. Two nights ago. It’s too much.
I stand up and make my way back to the guest bedroom. I pick up my phone and grab my purse and go back to the living room. Atlas hasn’t moved.
“Ryle left for England today,” I say. “I think I should probably go home now. Can you drive me?”
A sadness enters his eyes and when it does, I know that leaving is the right thing to do. Neither of us has closure. I’m not sure we’ll ever get it. I’m beginning to think closure is a myth, and being here right now while I’m still processing everything that’s happening to my life is just going to make things worse for me. I have to eliminate as much confusion as possible, and right now, my feelings for Atlas top the list of most confusing.
He presses his lips tightly together for a moment, and then he nods and grabs his keys.
• • •
Neither of us speaks the entire drive to my apartment. He doesn’t drop me off. He pulls into the parking lot and gets out of his car. “I’d feel better if you let me walk you up,” he says.
I nod and we wade through even more silence as we ride the elevator up to the seventh floor. He follows me all the way to my apartment. I fish around in my purse for the keys and don’t even realize my hands are shaking until my third failed attempt to open the door. Atlas calmly takes the keys from me and I step aside as he opens the door for me.
“Do you want me to make sure no one’s here?” he asks.
I nod. I know Ryle isn’t here because he’s on his way to England, but I’m honestly still a little scared to walk into the apartment by myself.
Atlas walks in before me and flips on the lights. He continues walking through the apartment, flipping on all the lights and walking into each of the rooms. When he makes it back to the living room, he slides his hands in his jacket pockets. He takes a deep breath and then says, “I don’t know what happens next, Lily.”
He does. He knows. He just doesn’t want it to happen, because we both know how much it hurts to say goodbye to each other.
I look away from him because seeing the look on his face right now cuts straight to my heart. I fold my arms over my chest and stare at the floor. “I have a lot to work through, Atlas. A lot. And I’m scared I won’t be able to do it with you in my life.” I lift my eyes back to his. “I hope you don’t take offense to that, because if anything, it’s a compliment.”
He regards me silently for a moment, not at all surprised by what I’m saying. But I can see there’s so much he wants to say. There’s a lot I wish I could say to him, too, but we both know discussing the two of us isn’t appropriate at this point. I’m married. I’m pregnant with another man’s baby. And he’s standing in the living room of an apartment that another man bought for me. I’d say these aren’t very good conditions in which to bring up all the things we should have said to each other a long time ago.
He looks at the door momentarily as if he’s trying to decide to leave or speak. I can see the twitch in his jaw right before he locks eyes with me. “If you ever need me, I want you to call me,” he says. “But only if it’s an emergency. I’m not capable of being casual with you, Lily.”
I’m taken aback by his words, but only momentarily. As much as I wasn’t expecting him to admit it, he’s absolutely right. Since the day we met, there has been nothing casual about our relationship. It’s either all in or not in at all. That’s why he separated ties when he left for the military. He knew that a casual friendship would never work between us. It would have been too painful.
Apparently, that hasn’t changed.
“Goodbye, Atlas.”
Saying those words again tears me up almost as much as the first time I had to say them. He winces and then turns and walks to the door like he can’t leave fast enough. When the door closes behind him, I walk over and lock it, then press my head against it.
Two days ago I was asking myself how my life could possibly get any better. Today I’m asking myself how it could possibly get any worse.
I jump back with the sudden knock at the door. It’s only been ten seconds since he walked out, so I know it’s Atlas. I unlock it and open it and I’m suddenly pressed against something soft. Atlas’s arms wrap tightly around me, desperately, and his lips are pressed against the side of my head.
I squeeze my eyes shut and finally let the tears fall. I’ve cried so many tears for Ryle over the past two days, I have no idea how I still have any left for Atlas. But I do, because they’re falling down my cheeks like rain.
“Lily,” he whispers, still holding me tightly. “I know this is the last thing you need to hear right now. But I have to say it because I’ve walked away from you too many times without saying what I really want to say.”
He pulls back to look down at me and when he sees my tears, he brings his hands up to my cheeks. “In the future . . . if by some miracle you ever find yourself in the position to fall in love again . . . fall in love with me.” He presses his lips against my forehead. “You’re still my favorite person, Lily. Always will be.”
He releases me and walks away, not even needing a response.
When I close the door again, I slide to the floor. My heart feels like it wants to give up. I don’t blame it. It’s suffered through two separate heartaches in the course of two days.
And I have a feeling it’s going to be a long time before either of those heartaches can even begin to heal.