Chapter Text
I look out of the window of my apartment in Paris and watch as Conrad walks off towards the subway station. You can see how tense he is and how much he struggles to hold it together. My heart breaks for him, and I feel terrible about what just happened.
I could blame it on the wine I had, maybe on the joint we all shared, on the nostalgia and the words he finally said that a part of me, likely my inner child, has always yearned for. But right now, I realize that it was wrong to get carried away, to let this happen. While the sex wasn't bad when it happened, I regretted it as soon as it ended.
I still cringe at myself, trying to find an out, fleeing to the bathroom with my phone, using the risk of a UTI as an excuse... only to check if I had received a message from the brother of the very man I just slept with.
That is a clear warning sign, isn't it?
Even though I didn't find what I hoped for, what I did find was the courage to have an important conversation with Conrad for once, and it turns out what I found wasn't the eternal love and infinity I hoped for, but instead I found... closure.
Conrad is now down the stairs, and so I turn away from the window and see my phone flash on the table again. I pick it up and look at the notification. It's a message from my mom. When I open it, I find a picute of myself. It was taken the summer I was probably 8 years old. I am in my bathing suit, standing under the outdoor shower at the beach house. I am grinning from ear to ear, not a care in the world. This was pre-Conrad me, the little girl that viewed him as a magnificent big brother and not as her prince in shining armor.
I see a little bucket and a flash of teal swimming trunks and blonde curls at the very edge of the pic and suddenly I remember the exact day this was taken... Jeremiah and I had dug out sandcrabs at the beach all day, until our moms came to get us. We were completely covered in silt, and as a last resort, even though it was getting chilly, they put both of us in the outdoor shower to clean us up enough to even let us into the house and the actual bathroom. That day stuck to me as one of the happiest days in my childhood, and like so many others, it has one name written all over it. Jeremiah.
I read the sweet words my mom wrote with it and shoot back a quick "thank you and I love you" message. Then I swipe back to the overview folder with all my chats and my heart sinks as my eyes glide over the list of names that show unread messages. There is Anika, Taylor, Steven, a few of my volleyball friends and people I briefly hung out with at finch, even Skye...
For one other name, I have to scroll further down, and it shows that the last contact in this conversation is days old. The last message I received from him was when he told me on the anniversary of Susannah's death that he was okay, and there are two messages with random every day stuff that I send him since that he never replied to. Taylor told me that he was busy with a pop-up dinner he planned, that was to up his growing social media as a junior chef that Taylor convinced him to start, to see what opportunities came from that. I messaged him to wish him good luck for that, but there was no reply.
I wonder what happened... we were on good terms, and it seems pretty out of character for him to not message me for my birthday, even if its just a quick Happy Birthday GIF. I tell myself that he is probably still busy, and my birthday hasn't even officially started yet for him. But I know there is more to this.
Why do I even care so much, I ask myself? I just hooked up with his brother, and here I am, obsessing over the fact that he didn't message me for my birthday? I can't pinpoint where exactly this is coming from, but I think it has been ages since I missed him like this.
I wonder how his dinner went, and of course I wish him nothing but success. And I also know that he can do this and this is exactly the right path for him that he is on now.
I open TikTok, go to his account and see a video that shows him cutting up some herbs, in the kitchen in Cousins. I am startled, because I had no idea they were doing it at the house. The video seems to have been taken by Taylor. I see my brother stir a pot on the stove behind Jere, and there is the usual banter between the 3 friends. But then, I hear a 4th voice throw in a remark, almost drowned by the rest of them laughing, right at the end. I am pretty sure that it was Denise.
Of course I figured she would be there... her and Jere are obviously friends... they have to be after they have been roomates for more than 6 months at this point. I know that Taylor is friends with her, and she is Steven's business partner... But something about this makes me unwell, and I don't know what it is... the video starts playing again, and... there it is:
I see Jeremiah look up from his board, he smiles and winks at someone, but I can't see who it is. It's not Steven obviously, who is behind him, and it is not Taylor who is holding the phone. And then I hear Denise's voice, more clearly this time. My stomach churns because I know that wink all too well. Jeremiah has always been a flirt, I know that, but I also know his demeanor and his face better than anyone probably. And I have only ever seen that look on his face when it was for ONE person. And that person used to be me.
I feel like a stalker when I start to check out people's TikToks related to this event, but its mostly pics the guest posted... of the food, of the decoration, of the scenery and of course of Jeremiah, looking heartbreakingly beautiful with his messy, blonde curls, the tan accentuated by his white shirt, wearing an apron and a content smile.
In the wider angles, I see Adam, my mom and dad, Steven, Taylor and Denise, seated at a table or talking to guest, I see Redbird and a few of the frat guys carrying plates and wine bottles and my heart is full because they all showed up for him. He deserves nothing less. The only people who didn't care to support him were Conrad... and me.
My curiosity still not satisfied, I hop over to Instagram to check people's stories... those of the guest and the people tagged in posts, but mostly the stories of those who I know are close to Jere. Taylor posted a ton of stories, but they are pretty focused on the professional part of this. I know for her, this is part of her job and trying to build a portfolio just as much as it is for Jere, so I am not surprised. My brother has been his usual lazy self and hasn't posted anything, and when I go to Denise's account, I can see on her thumbnail that she does have active stories. I hesitate for a moment because this really feels weird. I am very aware that she will be able to see that I viewed her stories.
I tell myself, that it is okay though... she will know that I want to know how the event went and would eventually check out the content around it. And her and I started following each other around the bachelorette party anyway so there is no harm. I tap on the thumbnail and can see that she has a few stories that show the house and the beach and Jere in the kitchen, but the last pic I see is one of a fork that is stuck into a delicious looking chocolate cake, where it is still daylight.
That leaves me with the frat bros, who have been busy throughout the day as servers, and now I am starting to see stuff from later that night. Most of the guest left, and its just maybe 10 to 15 people moving around the pool, dimly illuminated mostly with candles and fairy lights now. It looks super pretty and warm and happy and I wish I was there with them. I wish I could hug Jere and tell him how proud I am of him and how much I love him.
I startle. Did I just think that in present tense? Is this real? Is this just me being homesick or the nostalgic feel of the beachhouse content? I am not entirely sure... but then, with Redbird's last story, I get my answer.
I see a wide shot of the terrace, taken from just outside the back door that shows the rest of the people that are gathereted there to celebrate Jeremiah.
On the top it reads "So proud of my friend! I love you buddy @ JereFish0930". Then there is about a minute of video footage of people laughing and enjoying themselves. At some point, I see Jeremiah in his white shirt and jeans walk around the table, towards where a girl is sitting with her back towards the house. Based on the pinned up, dark curls and the breathtaking curves in that black dress, it can only be Denise. Jeremiah puts his hand on her back and leans in... the video is from too far away and too dark to tell if he kisses her cheek or says something to her. Then, she gets up, and my heart starts racing as I see Jere sit down on the chair she was sat in. Then my stomach churns when I see her sit down on his lap, wrap her arms around his neck and then place a kiss on his lips. He wraps his arms around her waist, pulls her towards him and places a series of kisses on her lips. Then they pull away, look at each other and seem to smile.
I feel tears sting in my eyes and put the phone down. This is not me being homesick or nostalgic because of what happened earlier or because of seeing the pics of the house and my family and friends. That confusing feeling I could not pinpoint a minute ago is a mixture of love and jealousy. And regret. Because as sick as it sounds... it is now that I realize that I am still in love with Jeremiah Fisher, the man I left behind to deal with the aftermath of our cancelled wedding alone almost a year ago. The man I now realize is still the one for me. My soulmate, the person who used to be my best friend and my biggest cheerleader. The one person I could always count on to love me no matter what.
The man who I so badly wanted to think of me today... the man that I can now see has moved on. I know he deserves all of this, and Denise seems like a terrific person and he deserves nothing less, but it still hurts.
I go to the bathroom, try to shower off the dirty feeling that my earlier actions left behind, and then I go to bed. I crawl under the cover and hug my blanket and start crying. All of my life, I was told that Conrad was my infinity. And now, in this moment, it is crystal clear that he never was. It was never meant to be. And while I realize I was so close to it, for four years, that I almost had it all, and messed it up with my stupid doubt and insecurities.
I am crying over a person I claimed to have let go months ago, that I seemed to have moved on from... only to realize now, when it is obviously too late, I will never be able to leave him behind.