“COMFORT is the solace offered to those in distress or sorrow - be it conveyed through soothing words, kind gestures, or simply the reassuring presence of a trusted companion.”

 ***

Georgia’s daily routine comprised the monotonous cycle of work and home, with the occasional respite on Sundays. However, the rhythm of her days could be disrupted when Walter, persistently, would invite her to hang out after work. She’d often resist initially, yet inevitably end up enjoying his company.

Walter, unwavering in his determination, wouldn’t accept no for an answer. But today was different. Georgia was resolute. She needed to move forward with Jimhuesh. Months had slipped by since she’d asked for his decision, and this was her final attempt. She resolved that if he remained unchanged, she would release him from her thoughts.

“Walter, please understand, not today. I have pressing matters to attend to, something of great significance. Can you give me this one day?” she implored; her voice filled with earnestness.

He emitted a dramatic groan, arms crossed in a petulant display. “All right, you win this time. No hanging out today, but you’re stuck with me this Sunday. No excuses, got it?”

Exasperation welled up within Georgia. Walter’s clinginess was starting to grate on her nerves as if he believed she owed him her time and attention. “Why are you so fixated on me? You’ve got plenty of friends, I’m sure . . . considering how sociable you are.”

In response, he let out a hearty chuckle and playfully nudged her, causing her to momentarily lose her footing. Georgia shot him a playful glare.

“You’ve got a point there. I do have many friends, and I enjoy having a wide circle, but sometimes, one of the best is all you need.”

A faint blush tinted her cheeks at his unexpected proclamation. “So, you’re saying I’m your best friend?”

Walter chuckled, shaking his head with an amused grin. “No, no, Georgie. I have a best friend, but you’re not who I was referring to. I may be your friend, but you are certainly not my friend.”

Confusion and hurt washed over Georgia, like a sharp pang in her chest. He was the only friend she had, and yet, he didn’t consider her as one. It was a sudden revelation that left her bewildered. Have I been the only one thinking we were friends?

She felt her eyes welling up with tears, quickly blinking them away as she took a deep breath. “Then what am I to you? Someone you can boss around? A pastime?”

Walter’s laughter echoed through the air, only serving to heighten her offense. She couldn’t bear to expose her vulnerability to someone she had mistakenly believed was her friend. Determined to retreat, she turned on her heel, her steps deliberate.

“Hey, Georgie! Where are you off to?” Walter called out, catching her hand to halt her and spin her back toward him. Her eyes were now brimming with tears.

His demeanor shifted to one of genuine concern. “Did I upset you?”

Georgia simply gazed at him, her intent to make him feel remorseful bearing fruit.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he murmured, taking her other hand and gently squeezing it. “You’ve got it all wrong. You’re not passive; you have a strong personality. I enjoy your company, but that doesn’t mean you’re just a pastime. I’ve told you, you’re not my friend. You’re . . .” He paused, clearing his throat before continuing, “You’re like a little chipmunk to me.”

Georgia’s eyebrows furrowed deeply, and she withdrew her hands from his grip. “A chipmunk? Are you kidding me right now? I was about to think our friendship was over!”

Walter erupted into laughter, clapping his hands in delight. “Gotcha!” He playfully nudged her shoulder. “All right, go on, sort out your stuff, and we’ll catch up on Sunday.”

Georgia was relieved and thankful that he wasn’t serious. Their friendship remained intact. She teased, “Sometimes, I wonder why I take what you say seriously when you don’t even know how to be serious.”

He chuckled and shrugged. “You’ve got a point there.”

As Georgia began to walk away, she allowed a genuine smile to spread across her face, even though Walter couldn’t see it. She waved a hand to signal her departure.

“Georgie! Did you bring an umbrella?” he called after her.

She turned back, eyes widening, before bursting into giggles. “I forgot! But don’t worry, the stars are out tonight! There’s no chance of rain, I’m sure! Goodbye!”

With that, she continued her walk, even though she could faintly hear Walter’s distant shouts, “You can’t be so sure! I told you to always bring an umbrella!”

 ~

The restaurant exuded an air of tranquility, with soft music playing in the background. However, Georgia’s heart pounded so loudly that it could have drowned out the music. Her fingers trembled, cold sweat coating her palms, as she struggled to compose a text to Jimhuesh.

She typed and deleted, typed and deleted, a series of messages that never seemed just right. Inhaling deeply, she mustered the courage to send one final message. “This will be the last time, Jim. Please meet me at our usual spot, even if it’s just for ten minutes. I’ll be waiting.”

Seconds stretched into minutes, and minutes expanded into an agonizing hour, but there was still no response from Jimhuesh. The waiter made several attempts to take her order, yet she only requested water, forgetting that even water came at a price.

Georgia’s gaze continuously darted between her watch and the time displayed on her phone, desperate to confirm that a full hour had indeed slipped away without a single word from him. Is he intentionally ignoring me? Maybe he’s caught up with something urgent. Perhaps he hasn’t seen my message yet. He may be out of phone credit. Maybe his phone is malfunctioning, or he simply didn’t receive my text.

In a moment of doubt, she resorted to resending her message. Despite the array of maybes that had crossed her mind, she clung to the idea that he hadn’t received her text, even though deep down, she sensed it wasn’t the case. Perhaps, Jimhuesh had seen her message and chosen not to respond.

A lone tear traced a path down her cheek as she observed the light shower outside through the restaurant’s glass walls. Soon, the drizzle escalated into a downpour. People on the streets scrambled for shelter, some without umbrellas, some with, and others shielding themselves with bags.

Tears mingled with laughter as Georgia sat there, her gaze fixed on the raindrops racing to the ground. Her heart ached with the fresh pain of Jimhuesh’s apparent indifference, but simultaneously, Walter’s humorous prediction about the rain played in her mind. She chuckled at the irony of it all. Walter had been right; she should have brought an umbrella. The stars, as it turned out, were no guarantee of fair weather, much like Jimhuesh’s sweet demeanor hadn’t guaranteed his true intentions.

A growing sense of embarrassment washed over her. Other diners in the restaurant might have been forming their own interpretations of her situation - stood up, dumped, having a breakdown, perhaps even going crazy. She quickly wiped away her tears with a handkerchief and took deliberate breaths to regain composure. She refused to let this ordeal become any more humiliating.

A mere minute passed before her phone vibrated, prompting her immediate attention. With Jimhuesh’s name on the screen, she swiftly opened the message. “I’m sorry, George. I was tied up in a meeting and couldn’t respond earlier. But honestly, there’s nothing left to discuss. We’ve reached the end of this road, and you already know my answer. If you’re still anticipating my arrival, please don’t. Just head home.”

Without hesitation, she tapped the call button, raising her phone to her ear. It rang just once before he answered. “George.”

“I waited for over an hour, and you’re telling me to go home and stop waiting? I never imagined you could be so distant, Jim. If I had known you’d change like this, I’d never have revealed my feelings,” she retorted, her emotions in check, holding back the tears that threatened to fall.

A discernible sigh emanated from Jimhuesh’s end of the line as he responded, “George . . . I’m convinced you’re not in love with me. It’s not romantic love you’re experiencing, but rather an attachment, a fondness, like the love you’d feel for a friend, family member, or even a pet. I’m not equating myself to a pet, though.”

“Are you trying to lighten the mood? How can you claim to understand my feelings better than I do? They’re my emotions, not yours to gauge. I know what I feel, and this is romantic love.”

“No, George. Have you ever fantasized about us kissing?”

A crimson flush swept across her face, and an abrupt wave of panic surged through her. “What? Why would I even entertain such thoughts? I’m not some kind of pervert!”

Following this, she attempted to picture herself locking lips with Jimhuesh, but her heart faltered, unable to conjure the image. Instead, her skin crawled as if such a thought were inconceivable.

“Have you ever tried it? I’m not trying to be crude, it’s just something Rychie mentioned. If you’re genuinely in love with someone, you must have at least envisioned sharing a kiss.”

“N-no, I haven’t. I’m not driven by lust. . . . I don’t engage in those kinds of fantasies,” she replied softly, a fib passing her lips. In truth, she had imagined such things before, but not with Jimhuesh - it was her ex who filled those thoughts.

She pondered, perhaps, her feelings for Jimhuesh weren’t as deep as she’d thought. “I need to go. B-bye.”

With that, she ended the call and slipped her phone into her bag. Her gaze drifted into the void for a moment, her mind an empty canvas, until a waiter approached to take her order once more. She shook her head and rose from her seat. “I’m sorry. I’m leaving now.”

Georgia vacated the restaurant, her thoughts an abyss. Her fingers clung to the bag strap slung over her shoulder, her vacant eyes staring straight ahead with long pauses between blinks, and her gait sluggish, reminiscent of a zombie. It was as though the weight of the world had descended upon her shoulders.

A concerned stranger sought shelter under the restaurant’s entrance roof and inquired, “Miss, are you all right? Don’t you have an umbrella?”

However, Georgia remained oblivious, or perhaps devoid of the energy to respond, continuing her listless stride. Not even the rain could deter her. Within moments, she was drenched by the unrelenting downpour, the cold water and biting wind penetrating her skin, causing her to shiver. Yet, she paid it no heed, trudging on aimlessly. She cared not whether her bag and its contents were soaked, or if her once concealing shirt had turned transparent. She didn’t even flinch at the distant thunder, nor did she contemplate the possibility of being struck by lightning. In that fleeting moment, she felt numb to external forces, but internally, a cacophony of screams reverberated. Have I been mistaken about my feelings for Jimhuesh? Have I pursued an illusion of love? How could I have been such a fool?

“What is love, actually?” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion, and then she began to cry. Her tears mingled with the rain, leaving her eyes red and stinging. She sobbed uncontrollably, using her trembling hand to wipe away the raindrops that had intruded upon her vision. And then, abruptly, the rain ceased.

She paused her crying for a moment, raising her gaze to behold a maroon umbrella. Before she could even turn around, a jacket enveloped her, wrapping around her back and body, and a hand with a familiar touch rested gently on her shoulder.

That was when she knew it was him. Her best friend. Her only friend. It was Walter. But it was a side of him she had never known before. His voice carried a gentle yet serious tone, tinged with hints of concern, and perhaps, even anger. Nonetheless, his voice had a soothing effect on her. “Don’t turn around. Just stay like this. This way, you can let it all out without feeling embarrassed in front of me.”

Without warning, Georgia’s sobs grew louder than before as she cried her heart out. There was nothing that could provide solace except the knowledge that he was there for her, as he had always been. His presence was all she needed.