Chapter 16

Noah

            Leah and I practiced coding a few more sessions that had already been coded by my other assistants to make sure she was doing it similar to them.  Once I was able to say that she was right on target, I have left her the last few disks with the final sessions of some couples I had treated.  Handing her my work was difficult.  It’s not because I worry she will not be impressed or that she will not code properly, I worry because the first couple we coded together clearly decide to split up during their last session and I don’t know if her heart can handle that right now. 

            Leah’s bed was delivered three weeks ago and has not been slept in once.  We spend our days running around campus being so independent of each other, but each night we come home and fall into a comfortable rhythm ending with us crawling into my bed each night.  Being so close to her and not touching her the way I truly want to is difficult, but I refuse to start anything while she is still holding out hope that her ex will discover he has made a huge mistake. 

            My thoughts are racing through my mind when I reach the top step in our building.  The manager steps out of Leah’s apartment and nods his head in my direction.  My stomach sinks immediately as I acknowledge that this might be the news I have been dreading.  Sooner or later her apartment will be ready for her to move back into.  I’m going to have to let her go because it is the right thing to do for her.  I’ve just been hoping that I could have a few more days to spend with her in the little bubble we have created to block out the pain around us. 

            “Hey, Noah.  Great news!  They are almost finished replacing the carpet.  As soon as they get it in and install the base boards, Leah can start moving her stuff back in.”  He’s smiling at me and I know that he imagines I will be happy about this news.  I’m not.  I force a smile so that he won’t wonder what is wrong with me.

            “Thanks man.  That’s great.  When do you think it’ll be ready?  I mean, shouldn’t she wait to make sure there won’t be any mold or something?”  I know I’m really reaching but there has to be some reason why she can’t move back in.  Before I can even finish my sentence he is already shaking his head.

            “No, it’s all clear.  She can move in this weekend.”  I feel my chest constrict but manage to nod my head and turn towards my apartment. 

            “Ok.  I’ll let her know.”  I turn the key and push the door open.  I let my bag slide from my arm and toss my keys on the counter.  Making my way over to the fridge, I grab a bottle of beer and twist the cap off.  I need to man up and let her go.  This was never supposed to get as comfortable as it has. 

            When the first beer goes down too quickly, I grab a couple more and head over to the couch.  This is where Leah finds me when she returns home about an hour after me.  I’m watching a movie on the TV but honestly I have no idea what’s happening because my mind has been running over every possible excuse for her to stay.  In the end it always comes back to the idea that she needs to be on her own. 

            “Long day Noah?” she asks when she sees the empty beer bottles on the small table.  I’m not really a big beer drinker, but today it kind of helped to take away the sting.

            “It was.  I ran into the manager on my way up.”  Her smile falters for a second but she pulls it back up.

            “Oh.  What did he say?”  She reaches for the beer in my hand and takes a long sip.  I can’t help but to smile at how our boundaries have seeped together in these weeks.  She hands the beer back to me as she scrunches up her nose.  She’s not a beer drinker either. 

            “He said they’re almost finished.  Just going to be putting on the base boards once they get the new carpet in there and then you should be good to move back in.”  I force myself to make eye contact with her so she won’t see how much I hate that. 

I watch her cautiously smile and take my beer again.

            “That’s great.  Did he say when I could move back in?”  She doesn’t hand me the beer back.  Instead, she starts to pull at the label.  I watch her fidget with it nervously and wonder if she’s feeling as disappointed as I am.  I tell myself that I know better.  I have more experience than she does when it comes to relationships so I need to see these feelings for what they are instead of what they could be.  We don’t love each other; we just have grown comfortable together.

            “This weekend.”  I reach up and put my hand on top of hers, stilting the shredding of the label.  Her eyes lift to mine and I smile so she doesn’t feel like she can’t be happy.  Asking her to share my bed was an impulsive move on my part and I won’t do that to her again.  She needs to be free to live her life alone.  I know how powerful it can feel to survive all by yourself.  Her moving out on her own is a necessary step in the direction of healing. 

            “Wow.  That came a little quicker than I thought.  I guess that’s good.  You can have your place back and I can be on my own.”  She sounds a little nervous, but I also sense some excitement. 

            “You’re going to do great on your own.  I’m going to be right next door if you need anything.  I’ll miss our dinners, but I think it is a good thing you’re going to have your own place.”  I can see a look of hurt cross her face and I know she took my words wrong.  I wish I could tell her that this is not what I want, but in the end it really is best that I let her go.  “We have three more nights to get tired of each other.”  I look down to where my hand is on hers.  My fingers curl around so that my big hand is holding her small one. 

            Leah tips her head back and rests it on the pillow behind her and I brush a small strand of hair off her forehead before letting myself sink lower in the couch.  We say nothing for a long time, both of us sitting in silence holding hands.  I wonder if it could have been like this with any of the other girls I’ve had a relationship with over the years.  Maybe it isn’t Leah that’s the key to my happiness, maybe it could be any girl that I let stay longer than a few hours. 

            “Three more nights, huh?” she asks as she lifts my arm and wraps it over her shoulder.  Kicking off her shoes, she scoots her feet up on the couch and leans back against me, folding herself in my arm.  “Three more nights until you’re free again.”  She laughs as she draws circles on my leg with her free hand.  I laugh too, but not because I am relieved.  I laugh because if I don’t I might freeze up.  Every fiber of my being is telling me to take a chance on her.  Let go of all my bullshit rules and just fall deeper.  I laugh because no matter how bad my heart wants to love her, my brain keeps reminding me of how bad it hurts when it’s over. 

            I guess the irony in the whole fucking situation is that I am going to lose either way.  No matter what there is going to be a day that I will lose her.  She is going to leave my life because that’s what happens.  I know the sting that I feel right now, the nausea I feel rolling through me at the thought of not coming home to her, and the panic of her not returning my feelings is only going to be worse the longer I let my heart hold on to her.

            In a perfect world, right now I’d be cooking her dinner.  I’d be trying hard to concentrate on not burning the food while I watch her legs dangle from the counter as she drinks her wine.  In a perfect world there would be no exes, no scars, no walls around our hearts.  I’ve never wanted to live in a perfect world so much in my life, but that’s not our reality.  The world is ugly and painful, full of tough lessons and lost love.  I survived the first heartbreak; I don’t think I could survive another. 

            We don’t say anything else to each other as we sit on the couch watching the color of the room change with the setting sun.  Dinner is forgotten because I can’t bring myself to eat with my stomach clenching and rolling the way it is right now.  Leah never asks about food and by the time the room is dark, she is asleep in my arms.  I carry her to the room and tuck her in, sliding up behind her and holding her tight. 

Something about the way she feels in my arms is different and I’m not too stubborn to see that. Maybe if I was naive to the statistics I could roll the dice again and see where this connection takes us.  The problem is I know too much.  I know the percentage of couples that make it and the stages of love from lust to long lasting.  I know how couples fail and what it does to those whose hearts get broken.  What I don’t know is how long I would have with her before we ruined it and broke what was left of each other’s hearts.  It wouldn’t matter if we had one more day or twenty years, knowing how easily I could love her and that I would have to let her go is enough to keep me from risking it. 

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