Elizabeth's Crush

"I know about you and Maya," I solemnly announced into the air, idly watching emergency workers fighting through the sleet to clear the debris from highway ahead. "The affair, I mean."

The car obviously wasn't going anywhere, and neither was she. It seemed as bad a time as any to have the talk; I'd already put it off for too long, and even forcing the words out had hurt a little. The engine, now off, emitted an occasional intrusive sound halfway between a ping and a tick as it cooled in the freezing night air.

"What? Oh. Shit." Elizabeth replied slowly, and I saw her gaze shift from me in my peripheral vision, first away towards the dashboard, then up at the headliner of the car.

Eventually she added "I'm sorry," breaking the long silence.

I looked at the wreckage ahead of us, half illuminated in a mix of headlights and red, blue, and orange flashing lights. There was a pretty good chance there were some rapidly cooling corpses in that pile-up, I thought to myself. At least it wasn't me, and I wasn't physically trapped in the car, I thought grimly to myself, although given the current weather, nobody was having a great time tonight.

Rubbing the back of my head with my hand, I said "Ah, well, I'm only telling you now because I decided to forgive you," with a shrug.

"Still, I'm sorry Dave. It was... I didn't know how to tell you. I didn't want any of it."

"It's okay," I said, taking her right hand in mine, "I was really angry when I first found out, and I fantasized about revenge maybe half a dozen different ways. Violence, public shaming, going scorched earth with all your friends and relatives, filing a nasty divorce petition and dragging you over the coals in court, emptying the accounts and vanishing, you name it. But after a while, I realized that's all they were, fantasies. That's not who I am, and definitely not who I want to be. In the end, I decided on a quiet, simple divorce. Close the door on 'us' and put it behind me like a big boy. Just move on, and try to live my best life. They say that's the best sort of revenge. I hope it's true."

Glancing back at my face, she asked, "So what changed your mind?" with a sad frown. "I mean, I'm grateful that's all you decided to do to me, but what's stopping you? I deserve it."

I shrugged, huffing slightly. "Because despite everything, I care. It turned out I simply couldn't stop loving you. I hate it, but there it is. And once the anger died down to a dull roar, I was surprised to find there wasn't any hate behind it. Not for you, anyway. Just for the way things were, the way they are. And then there was just a huge, overwhelming sadness. Things were over. I realized hurting you wasn't going to make me feel any better."

"Aw," she responded with a thin smile, "that just makes me feel even worse about the whole thing. I know it won't help, but I still love you, you know? With my whole heart, I really do. It just turned out to not be enough. I thought it was, I really did, but it wasn't."

"That doesn't help, I think. I think maybe all that does is just makes it worse, really," I told her flatly. I glanced to my right and met her eyes. "In the end, the only real step I've actually taken was preparing the separation paperwork, but I figure there's no point rushing everything. May as well be kind. To both of us. I mean, what sort of wah-wah pissy crybaby would I be, if I couldn't pull myself together in the face of a little adversity. Lashing out, punching holes in the drywall and generally throwing a tantrum is the work of a toddler, not a man; and if I'm wrong about that, so what? That's not the way I was raised."

"Ha. Yeah. Um. Thanks?" she said with a grim chuckle, glancing away again, but squeezing her hand against mine in acknowledgement. "Obviously you know, but how much do you know? Is there anything you need, like, closure on or something? I can offer that, I think...maybe?" she looked over and her eyes met mine with another wan smile.

"Well, I suppose..." I started, raising an eyebrow, "I know it was going on for a while, months maybe, but how long really? I figure I'm asking how and when it started."

"Ah. I won't say it 'just happened,' but..." she half-shrugged, "well, it kind of crept up on me and took me by surprise."

I snorted at that.

She snorted back, before continuing. "Me and Maya, well, I thought we were just besties, bee-eff-effs, but about four? Yeah, maybe four months ago, we were drunk on her couch and our knees were touching, and it was that thing. You know, where all your attention is on one that little bit of contact, like nothing else exists. Then suddenly we were kissing. I was all over her, I think she was surprised, but she kissed me back. And the whole thing? It was something I'd never felt before. Never had. Not like that. It was electric."

"Well, I guess it must have been. You both kept going."

"We didn't. Well, we did eventually but I was confused and ashamed, and later, I pretended it didn't happen. We both did. But then it happened again, and then... then it kept happening. After a bit, there came a time I couldn't deny it, and I knew what was really going on. I mean with me; I realized the lie I'd told myself, and that I'd been crushing, hard, and for a while. Real soft focus running-through-meadows first love stuff, just catching myself daydreaming about spending time with her, all those sorts of things. I'm surprised I wasn't finding myself absent-mindedly doodling her name surrounded by love-hearts, that's how bad it was. I'd never felt like that before."

"Huh. That kind of hurts to hear."

"I know, and I'm sorry for that too. If I'd known about myself, I'd never have done it, but I didn't. It was like my brakes had failed on a mountain switchback road. Just barrelling full-tilt into disaster, every turn getting harder as the speed picks up, and no way to stop. I knew it was going to all come out somehow, that it would be bad, and nothing would be the same afterwards, but I just... I just couldn't. Is it bad to be happy I hurt you?" she shook her head weakly. "Ah, that came out wrong. I mean that it was just hurt and nothing worse. It was, I'm sorry David, it wasn't like anything I'd ever felt before. I love you, but this was different. I was on fire."

"I figured," I said, quietly acknowledging the obvious, "we could have worked something out."

She winced, and squeezed my hand again. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't tell you."

"You could have. I'd have been sad, angry, all sorts of upset, but I think I'd have understood. I mean, I understand now."

"No, you don't understand. It wasn't you I was lying to, not in the beginning. It was me I was lying to. Until it was all too late, anyway. I couldn't even say it out loud in the mirror! How could I tell my husband if I couldn't tell myself? I love you, Dave, but I couldn't say that to anyone. It was like I had been holding on to a rope my entire life, desperately suspended over a black, bottomless pit that I hadn't even noticed was there. I couldn't let go, I had to hold on, somehow, but suddenly my fingers were slipping, and I was too weak. If I let go, if I let it happen... It was too terrifying to think about." She shook her head, and groaned, eyes watering.

"Hmph," I responded quietly, "well I guess that's as good as I'll get, I suppose."

"How did you know? We were so careful."

"Maybe physically. In the end, it was just a lingering, dreamy look across the room. I'd know that look anywhere, and I followed it. She was on the other end, doing exactly the same thing. Once I saw that, it just kind of clicked into place, and I started seeing everything." I chuckled again, adding "Honestly, it was one of those things that once you see it, you can't unsee it. You're right, I think. A crush fits. Hearts on sleeves, just out there in the open. All blushes and shy looks, like a pair of dumbass teenagers who don't know what they're doing."

"Thanks, Sherlock. Nice to know I'm a dumbass. Heh, dumbass dyke," she offered. "I wish we could just talk about this later."

"You okay?" I asked, noticing her grip tighten on my hand.

"Just a bit cold," she replied, and closed her eyes, exhaling sharply. "Damn," she whispered, "I'm so sorry about...about everything. I hate, I hate that I did all that to you. I didn't want to."

I intertwined my fingers with hers, and gently rubbed my thumb against the back of her hand. "It's okay," I said, gesturing at the windscreen with my free hand. "It's not like we're going anywhere in a hurry. Unless you think you can just drive off, of course."

She laughed with a short, staccato bark at that. "That's dark, you bastard," she said with a wide smile, "and thanks again for forgiving me. The stupidest part is, the thing with Maya's over anyway. She dumped me last week." She closed her eyes and leaned back on the head rest, taking several shuddering, deep breaths. "I was stuck thinking about going back to, what's it called, a life of quiet desperation. It didn't seem so bad. Or if I should..." she tailed off.

"Getting tired already?" I asked, studying her face carefully.

"A bit," she mumbled, her voice trailing off a little, "I don't want to go to the party anymore. I don't feel like it. I'm too tired. I just want to go home with you and eat takeout on the couch. I want to... I want to..."

"Ah. Well, if you're tired..."

Her grip tightened briefly, as she mumbled something I couldn't hear, then loosened.

"You don't have to say anything," I said quietly, "you can rest if you want. It's okay."

I looked past her, over at the paramedic on her other side. Glancing up, he pursed his lips slightly then shook his head. "She's gone. I'm sorry."

"...It's okay," I told him.

After getting out of the passenger door, I glanced back at the wreckage. The smell of gasoline and burnt plastic was sharp in the air. It was impressive, in a way. The entire left half of her car was mangled nearly beyond recognition, yet the passenger side was almost pristine. I glanced away toward the night sky but the sleet stung my eyes, and I finally looked down at my feet. This was definitely the wrong sort of footwear for trudging through slush, and my feet were growing numb.

They had said relieving the pressure would end things long before she could be freed. I was glad I'd made it in time, that she'd still been there, but at the same time I couldn't help but wish I hadn't. Nothing ends neatly, but I hadn't wanted this. Not at any point. I never wanted this.

My breath caught. "It's okay," I lied. Raising my face toward the dark sky, where flashing lights painted ghost-colors on low, looming, harrowed clouds. "It's okay."