Where's the line between forgiving and unforgiving actions? What separates one from the other? Is the amount of fallen tears — once you've reached a quota it's over? Is it the balance between the seconds you laughed so hard you couldn't breathe and the seconds you sat in your bed, clenching your chest? And should someone be punished for the one thing they've done wrong or forgiven for all the things they've done right?
Who is the one sentenced and who is pulling the trigger?
I dropped the bags on the floor the moment I burst through the front door. My eyes closed, my quivering fingers gripping the hem of my top. I could still feel his touch on my skin. I still heard his voice and I wanted to trust him so bad.
The day I ran into him at that bar for the first time I never would've guessed he would become such a big part of my life. Not just the good but also the bad things. Maybe I've been so mesmerized by an illusion, I missed all the warning signs. Maya warned me. But Maya also had so much bullshit coming out of her mouth, even her ass was jealous.
Gentle knocking against the door behind me pulled me out of my thoughts.
I didn't turn around but I spoke up: "Who is it?"
A small pause took place before a male voice answered: "Tyler. I saw you going up the stairs and you looked upset. Is everything okay?"
While I was consciously aware of how out of character that gesture was for Tyler, I didn't have the energy to fight my rational thinking. I turned around and pulled the door open, instantly being greeted by a pair of dark brown eyes.
A sob broke past my lips and his arms stretched out, pulling me against his chest.
I expected to be greeted by warmth and comfort. Instead, I felt my walls being rebuilt — brick by brick. I've never encountered a person whose mere comforting embrace would have the exact opposite effect on me. I didn't relax, I didn't continue crying, I didn't let go like I should've.
My body somehow knew not to be vulnerable in front of him.
I pulled back and forced out a smile as the back of my hand wiped my cheeks. Tyler was somewhat reluctant in letting me go but I took a more commanding step back and eventually his arms fell by his sides.
"I'm fine, thank you," I replied simply and glanced at him.
Tyler scoffed. "Let me guess—"
I cut him off. "Whatever you're about to say right now. Don't."
He stared at me for an instant before nodding his head and pursing his lips into a thin line.
"It's just a long day," I said, still feeling the need to defend Zach. It didn't really matter what terms we were on.
Looking unconvinced, Tyler set his gaze on me. "You know you can trust me, right?"
Well, that's ... optimistic.
"No, Tyler. I actually don't know that," I countered. The worst thing about all of this was that he lived in my fucking building. "I don't even know if I should believe all the things you've told me."
He scowled. "Excuse me?"
I shot him a quick, dirty look as he let himself inside my apartment. With raised eyebrows I watched him make his way straight into the living room. Because we had been such good friends, right?
"Which part of what I said did you have trouble hearing?" I really wasn't in the mood for games but I closed the door behind him.
As if a light bulb just lit up above his head, he turned towards me. Determined steps were taken in my direction and before I knew it, his hands were on my face — on the exact same places where Zach's had been mere minutes prior.
"What are you doing?" I asked, trying to recoil from his grip.
His eyes met mine, fire igniting his amber irises. "Maybe this will make you remember." And just like that, he pressed his lips on mine.
I stood in complete shock, my arms outstretched, eyes wide open. What? No. No, no, no, no. His lips felt dry and hard against mine and I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I pressed my hands against his shoulders and shoved us in separate directions.
"What the fuck, Tyler?!" I exclaimed and wiped my lips.
He looked shocked over the fact that I pushed him away and anything but pleased about it. His eyes narrowed just a bit but I still noticed it. His body posture changed along with it.
"Did it work?" he asked, ignoring the fact just how absolutely insane and wrong was what he just did.
I was baffled. "What? No! Of course, it didn't fucking work, you fucking asshole!"
Snickering, Tyler remained looking unapologetic about it. "I don't get it."
"You don't get what, Tyler?! That you're not meant to just fucking kiss me like that? Is that so hard to understand?!" My voice was getting higher and higher.
The lines between his eyebrows deepened, his hand reaching to fix the collar of his shirt.
"I don't get why it didn't trigger anything." Did he sound... disappointed?
"Get the fuck out," I seethed.
As if on cue, the front door behind me unlocked and opened. Maya walked inside, whistling to herself, and stopped mid-step, staring at us. I wasn't sure what my face looked like but a tinge of hope lit up within me when I heard my sister speak.
"Whatever you did, leave right now, Tyler."
Tyler held his hands up in defense almost as if he didn't understand what he was being attacked for. But he didn't leave just yet, no. He leaned towards me, allowing himself to take me in for a heartbeat or two.
"I, too, deserve to be remembered, Via," he stated and curled his upper lip slightly.
Maya pushed the bags on the floor to the side using her foot and pulled the door open. "Leave," she repeated.
Without looking at her, Tyler left the apartment.
Maya turned to me with a puzzled expression, questioning what had just happened. Well, sister dearest, which part would you like to know first?
***
Days bled into weeks. I watched the sun set and rise most nights. A part of me was afraid of going to sleep — really sleep. My body never required much of it to function, to my recollection ever since I was a child.
Maya once told me, I liked to prepare surprises for our parents while the rest of the house was still out of it. Sometimes, those surprises weren't found until weeks later. Like the time I took the cheese out of the fridge and placed bits of it all over the house — only because I didn't know Tom and Jerry weren't real and I wanted to feed the poor mouse. I placed the cheese in various corners and hidden places around my childhood home. Two months later, my poor mother was still pulling moldy pieces out of the drawers, from behind the couch, from under the fridge — even out of shoes. She certainly wasn't happy about that.
I tried my best to do what Zach suggested I did. Just live. Flashbacks came and went but they still didn't give me anything tangible to hold onto. Not a location, not a name, not a face.
There weren't any updates from Scar and I didn't ask questions. Whenever she came over, she and Maya were so lost in each other, I rather just left the room altogether. They were cute and I was happy for my sister but the ping in my chest was hard to ignore.
The moment I heard noises coming from Maya's bedroom I went the fuck out of there. Every time I'd asked her to keep it down, she said they were just laughing. Sure, Maya. Sure. There's a difference between ha-ha and oh-oh.
I pulled the light military green jacket over my chest, one side overlapping the other, and folded my arms over it to keep it in place. The zipper was ripped and I forgot every single time until I was already far from home and I wanted to close it.
Strolling down the almost empty street, I found it so hard to believe how short days have grown already. I found it even harder to believe that Zach really stopped reaching out like he said he would.
Maybe I wanted him to try harder but that wasn't fair.
On the other hand, Tyler refused to leave me alone. He said few things whenever he was in front of me but his eyes — that intense expectation of me throwing myself into his arms that never happened — that was what fucked me up the most. The silent pressure he put on me.
Sometimes, I thought I saw Zach. I thought I saw him across the street but when another person walked by and momentarily blocked my view, he was gone. Sometimes, I stared at his Instagram page, just to refresh my memory of that stupid, dimpled grin on his face. Sometimes, I almost called him but never went through with it.
I began to understand some things, or at least, I thought I did.
Stopping in front of a large window of a store, I looked inside at the displayed winter boots. I might have to invest in new ones.
My gaze was fixated inside the shoe store when something else caught my attention. A reflection.
I held my breath as I looked up and was greeted by Zach's eyes as he walked past me.
Just like that, I lost another piece of myself. Hell, I couldn't even find the words to say.
Little do you know, how badly I want to wrap my arms around you.
I held my breath as I watched him put his head down, his hands stuffing a little deeper in his pockets as he continued his way.
I consciously went back in my memory of the time he and I were preparing dinner while Maya was at work.
"I don't understand," Zach announced, rolling a pack of instant noodles between his fingers.
Well, what else is new?
"Why are spices already on top of the noodles ... " He ripped the lid off and peeked inside. " ... if you're just going to pour hot water over it and wash it all away."
I rolled my eyes and focused back on chopping the peppers. "I don't know, Zach. Maybe you should e-mail them," I said with a hint of sarcasm in my tone.
I turned my head and from that movement alone almost crashed into Zach who was standing mere inches away from me.
"Whoa."
He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."
I shook my head and returned my attention to the vegetables on the counter. "You know you gotta eat it now, right?"
"I know," he replied, sounding completely unaffected by it. I heard him move to pour water into the container before the microwave beeped and began heating up the noodles.
I swiftly moved between the kitchen island and the stove, tossing the cut peppers into the pan, next to the grilling chicken. So much grilled chicken. That man treated every day like Thanksgiving.
The microwave beeped again just as I stirred the contents in the pan and by the time I turned around to grab seasoning from the kitchen island — Zach was already standing behind me, contently eating his noddles.
I crashed into him and the only thing he did was hold the noodles up high. Not because he'd be afraid to spill them on me but because he was worried about his noddles. I knew his ways very well by that point.
"How are you everywhere at the same time?!" I stared up at him with wide eyes.
His cheeks were puffed out and my best guess, without looking inside the container, was that he stuffed everything into his mouth at the same time.
He froze in place and mumbled another: "Sorry."
I stretched out my hand and pointed away from the stove area. "Get out of my kitchen!" I ordered.
Zach swallowed down and let out a chuckle before he obediently left and sat behind the kitchen island.
"You're cute when you're bossy," he said with a smile on his lips, his warm eyes glimmering.
I tried to maintain my composure but as I turned back to the stove, I couldn't deny the grin on my face.
I got back home an hour and a half later. Maya's bedroom door was slightly opened so, I guessed the private party activities were over.
I didn't bother checking where either one of them was, partly in fear I would walk in on a weird scene. You know, the kind that remains fused into your brain no matter how hard you try to forget? Even when you, apparently, forget everything else?
After seeing Zach again, I forgot all about buying new boots. My mind and heart were racing too fast to focus on anything else.
Throwing myself on the bed, I remained in a laying position as I wiggled out of my skinny jeans. Who the fuck thought of them?
A sigh escaped my lips as I pushed my head between the two pillows on my bed, not even turning off the light. I was much too tired to move and getting up from the bed required an immense amount of energy. Fuck that.
I was already dozing off when a knock on my door came. At first, I thought if I ignored it, it would go away. But there it was again.
"Whaaaaat?" I mumbled into my pillow without opening my eyes.
The door creaked and I knew someone was in the room.
"Via?" Scar whispered.
"Uh-huh," I mumbled again.
"I know where the file is," she said quietly. "I'll get it for you tomorrow, okay? Sorry. Sleep well."
With that, she left the room — even turned off the light.
But suddenly, I was staring at the wall again. Wide awake.