Closure in a cup of coffee

Coffee shops are strange places, especially at 6am on a Tuesday. The rich bittersweet scent of roasting beans mixes with the smell of warm sugary glaze emanating from the glowing light of the convection oven. A man in a suit shifts impatiently between polished leather dress shoes, phone already to ear, talking slightly too loud and slightly too fast as his vigilant eyes track the barista from machine to machine scrutinizing her every move as she froths milk and pours syrups into the various cups arranged on the counter behind the bar. At the receiving end a trio of school aged girls wait for their drinks. Shrouded in playful arguing and joyous laughter they bicker back and forth, remaining oblivious to the pointed glances thrown their way by the pair of exhausted line cooks waiting to order. A blonde haired mom squeezes behind the group to stuff some bills in the slowly filling tip jar. She waves towards the baristas and calls out a cheery “thank you” before herding her matching haired toddler out through the swinging glass door.

The tables were all but empty when I arrived. The only other patron with time to spare was an older gentleman seated on the opposite side of the lobby. I grabbed my coffee and chose the table farthest from the register and away from its snaking tail of patrons rotating groggily through for their morning fix of caffeine and caramel. I thought getting here early might give me enough time to ease my nerves but as I sat, warming both hands on my own cardboard clad cup of joe, I could feel myself growing more and more anxious by the minute. The warm aroma of pure black coffee- no cream, no sugar, exactly how we used to drink it enticed me through the tiny slit in the top of the plastic lid. As good as it smelled and as welcome as it would be, I knew my building nerves would never allow my stomach to accept such comfort. Instead I pushed the little cardboard sleeve up and down the sides of my cup and reached for anything I could to distract myself. The older man sat at one of the barstools along the countertop that bordered the panes of glass encasing the building. He wore denim shorts and a red golf tee, the thin pages of the newspaper he held in front of him crinkling each time he turned the page. He reminded me of my dad, peaceful, tranquil, entirely absorbed in his paper and immune to the bustle of the awakening world around him. I was so caught up in the old man that I missed the rush of cool air against my back as the door behind me opened and a tall familiar figure made his way inside.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” My head snapped up to my left, the sudden interruption startling me back to the present. I hurried to stand and greet the voice but a reassuring hand on my shoulder eased me back down to my chair.

“You startled me.” I said, unable to hide the annoyance in my tone. In my hurry my knee had bumped the edge of the table and sent the sleeve of my cup sliding back down. With shaky hands I pushed it back up into place while I tried to settle my racing heart.

“Sorry,” his originally upbeat tone dipped cautiously but I could still hear the hint of a smile behind the hesitation. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He pulled out the chair across from me, its metal legs shrieking in protest against the linoleum floor.

“You don’t want anything?” I asked awkwardly- looking at him, actually looking at him for the first time since he came in, really for the first time in years.

“Uh… No,I’m okay.” He was sitting there, shoulders hunched forward, both hands tucked under the edge of the table and out of view. (probably tucked between his knees if I had to guess) He was still the same awkward man I had known all those years ago. His amber eyes sparkled up at me from beneath dark shaggy bangs. They looked through mine and into some long forgotten part of my soul. My stomach twisted and I was suddenly very glad I hadn’t drank my coffee. Even the smell of it was making my stomach churn. “I- I’ll get something in a little bit, maybe.” He backtracked in an attempt to ease the awkward tension settling in the air between us.

I nodded, watching the steam rise from my cup, acutely aware of my own clammy hands. I’ve never been good at small talk. I’m exceptionally bad at small talk when there's bigger things to be talked about. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. I thought quietly to myself. I wish I’d never agreed to come in the first place. I drew one of my legs up under me and propped up the other protectively with my shin against the table and bottom of my shoe on the very edge of the chair. Maybe I thought that if I could make myself small enough I would disappear and could avoid the whole thing. If such a thing were possible it wasn’t working. A soft laugh escaped the tilted smirk plastered on his face.

“What do you want, Nick?” I snapped impatiently. “Why are we here?” I hadn’t meant for the words to come out so harsh but I didn’t regret it either as I watched a wave of hurt pass over him.

“I don’t-” He started, then paused and considered his words before continuing. “I don’t know.” He finally admitted, unable to come up with an answer. Defeated, he slumped back in his chair. “I guess I just wanted to see you again.” He ran a hand through his hair before clutching his arm to his side. “I didn’t really think this far ahead, I didn’t think you’d show up.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” It was my turn to sit forward in defiance. I put both feet back down on the floor and stiffened. We both knew the answer but I needed to hear him say it.

“I kinda thought you’d still be mad at me?” It came out as a question, barely above a whisper, his previously cocky demeanor just another memory in the back of my mind.

“I AM still mad at you.” Unknown to me the words acted like a dam holding back years of pining, years of tears, of second guessing myself, of wondering if there was anything I could have done to keep us together. Had I not done enough? Had I done something wrong? Once I started I couldn’t stop myself. “You literally threw away EVERYTHING. You threw years, YEARS” I emphasized “out the window and into the trash like it was NOTHING. Are you dumb? Are you literally stupid? Do you really think that a few DMs is enough to erase how much that hurt?” He flinched at the accusation and shrunk further inside himself. I continued “We literally spent three whole years together. I lived with you. I worked with you. We did EVERYTHING together. We moved twice! I went with you to a whole different city!” I caught the glance of one of the baristas and paused to compose myself. “You were ALL I had. I was there for you through SO much. I was there for you when your dad died, I was there when your crazy bitch of an ex broke into your apartment and tried to steal your dog. I helped you get your license, fuck i helped you get a CAR. I literally destroyed my credit for you. I spent WEEKS working, unpaid, staying up until 3 am while STILL working my normal shifts just to help you save your store so you wouldn’t get fired. And the whole time you just sat there, on your phone, doing nothing. I sacrificed EVERYTHING for you. And for what? The second we got out of this shit town and started doing better you literally abandoned me! No you didn’t just abandon me. You dropped me off at that old empty apartment and ghosted me. No food, no job, no nothing.” The cluster of anxiety in the pit of my stomach had dislodged itself and coagulated into a hot ball of rage burning in my chest. My cheeks were flushed and my knee bounced rapidly under the table. I didn’t need to be able to see to know his was doing the same. “You said you loved me” My tone softened and tears threatened to spill from my eyes. “You said you’d never leave me. You promised you’d marry me. You promised.” I swallowed hard and took a slow shaky breath. “You wouldn’t even respond to my texts.”

“That’s not true…” He interjected meekly, still unable to look me in the eyes.

“Oh, you’re right. My bad.” I scoffed. “I forgot that after BEGGING for you to tell me what was going on you picked me up just to go back and fuck and work some more.” His leg bounced hard enough that it shook the table. The words stung but he couldn’t argue with the truth. “So, yeah. I’m mad at you. You're the only person I’ve ever loved and you’ve hurt me more than anyone ever has. It’s not just something I can get over.” The storm inside me calmed. It’s hard to keep the fire lit when the person you’re trying to burn is cowering and shaking like a whipped puppy. Even after everything that’d happened all those years ago, I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to give him a hug and tell him it’d be okay. For what felt like every day since the last time I’d seen him I’d fantasized about this moment. I looked forward to how good it would feel to finally get to say everything I’d been holding inside, to hurt him the way he'd hurt me. I’d had dreams about it, standing tall and saying everything with my full chest, watching him shrink and cower, feeling invincible like I’d finally slayed the dragon that had tormented me for years. I’d clearly and elegantly, without hesitation give him a piece of my mind and walk away triumphant after committing his pathetic miserable form to memory. I would finally feel vindicated. The reality, as is often the case, was much less glamorous and seeing all 6’2” of him crumple across from me did nothing but tear open old wounds in my own heart. “Did you ever love me?”

He said nothing at first but nodded vigorously. “Yes,” his voice cracked and I could just barely see the pink tint rimming his eyes. “I did. I do. I loved you so much. I still love you so much.” He pulled the sleeve of his hoodie down over his thumbs.

“Why did you do it?” I studied what I could see of his face, feeling much smaller than I wanted to feel. “I think… what hurts the most isn’t even that you left. It’s how you left. You didn’t even break up with me. You didn’t even tell me what was happening. You just… stopped. You dropped me off and never came back. You abandoned me. Did I really mean that little to you? Did I mean anything to you? Why did you do it?”

“You meant everything to me. You still mean the world to me.” Finally he locked eyes with mine. His previously bright and lively amber eyes were now red and shadowed by the dark remnants of sleepless nights. He turned away and tried, unsuccessfully, to conceal the tear that sat balanced on his lashes, wiping it away with the cuff of his sleeve. “I don’t know.”

“What do you know, Nick?”

“I know that I was stupid. I know that it sounds stupid. It doesn’t make any sense but, I guess… I thought that I was saving us, saving you. I thought that if I pushed you away that I could- I was falling apart. After we moved I felt like I was losing it. The ex, the store, the move, everything was just going to shit around me and I was just so tired-”

“I was tired.” I couldn’t help myself.

He continued as if I’d said nothing. “I felt like I was going insane. Between moving and being thrown into another failing store, then all that covid stuff. I thought if we stayed together that I was going to implode and take you with me.” He met my eyes once more. “I thought, I guess, if I made you hate me or at least if I forced you to leave, that you would wait for me. That I could get myself together and you’d still be there. That we could just… pick up where we left off at and everything would be fine.”

I didn’t want to believe him but I did. “You’re right, that does sound stupid.” Even more stupid was that I believed him. I believed he really thought that his plan would work. “Why didn’t you just talk to me? If you had just told me what was going on we could have worked something out. I could have gone back to my mom’s or something for a while.”

“I know, I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense. I see that now. I just thought that it was the only way to save us. I didn’t take into account that you would actually leave me. I thought you were just so in love with me that you’d wait.”

I was dumbfounded. “You…You thought that I’d just sit there like a dog waiting for you to come back? That I’d just put my whole life on hold and just… wait? For… god knows how long?”

“Yeah, I guess. I know, I know… it was really stupid and really selfish. But I wasn’t in my right mind and-”

“No, no you weren’t. That’s not how it works. As far as I was aware, you didn’t want me. You made sure that I felt that you didn’t want me. Why would I wait for you?”

“I’m sorry…” was the best he could come up with. “I should have talked to you.”

“Yeah, you should have.” I grit my teeth. Of all the reasons I’d come up with, the real reason was by far the most insane. I thought closure would make me feel better but instead I was left more confused than I was before I’d sat down.

“Will you please forgive me?” He pleaded through glassy eyes.

I thought for a moment and sorted my words carefully. “I can forgive you. But I’ll never trust you again.”

He nodded. “I still love you.”

The words sent a surge of electricity through my veins. “I still love you too.”

“Can we maybe… try again? Can you give me another chance? I promise… I’ll never do that again.” The man I’d loved, the first and only love of my life, was sitting in front of me, asking me to take him back.

“No,” I answered honestly, surprising even myself. “I will always love you. But I can never put myself through that again and I will never trust you enough to believe it won’t happen again.” I said watching the final shred of hope he’d held onto fall into a million little pieces.

“I have to go.” I grabbed my lukewarm coffee and stood. “Thank you. And I’m sorry too.”

He followed suit and stood with me. We stood there facing each other, really looking at each other for what felt like the first time since we met. I saw him for what he was, selfish, delusional, sad. And he saw me as a human being. Something outside of just an extension of himself. We stayed like that for a moment longer before he finally broke the silence.

“Can I kiss you? Like… a goodbye kiss. I don’t want things to end like they did before.”

For the final time I gave in to the desires of my heart. “Okay.”

I took a step closer and tipped my head up, his hands clung desperately to my waist, as if I’d turn to dust if he were to let go. His lips were warm and soft, just like I’d remembered, but trembled beneath the weight of the end. My heart raced, begging, pleading with me not to stop, not to leave, to give in and give him another chance. I’d always thought that if this moment ever came I’d cave and we’d run off together, back through time and back to the way life used to be. But dreams are just that, dreams and I knew in my heart that we could never get back what we had. I was the one to pull away. I looked into those familiar amber pools one final time, kissed his cheek, and turned to walk back out the door he’d taken to come back into my life not an hour earlier.

It was the last time I saw him, it was the last time I needed to. I stopped texting him, I changed my number. I moved on. I was finally free.