This Love | ✓

Part 7

Tears immediately sprung to my eyes and caused the computer screen in front of me to blur. I blinked them away forcefully, panic rising in my throat as I reread the message:

Hi Lee,

How are you? It's been so long...! I know things ended awkwardly between us but I've been thinking about you and wondering how you're doing? I love my uni but I'm feeling a little homesick... I'd like to catch up with you yeah?

Chris

"Things ended awkwardly?" How dare he?

I slammed my open palms against the table, frustration bubbling up inside me. 

After everything that happened, he wants to catch up with me?!

"You jerk," I muttered as I read the email once more.

Tears threatened to spill over again, and I didn't stop them. I sobbed into my hands, wondering how I could go from feeling content and excited to miserable and angry in seconds.

I wasn't angry because of what Chris did. I wasn't angry because he stood by and watched as our classmates called me names and bullied me. I wasn't angry because he just left me when I said I wouldn't date him.

All that was in the past. The past that I was trying to forget.

I was angry because Chris wasn't letting me forget. He wasn't letting me move on. I hated that he could reduce me to tears with just a short email from halfway across the world. 

Hot tears trailed down my cheeks as I winced at the onslaught of bad memories from my hellish high school years.

Cowering against the jeering, teasing lilt in my classmates' voices as they laughed at me.

"Why are you so stupid?"

"Leena is a weirdo!"

"Stupid prude!"

"You have no life, teacher's pet!"

"You're going to die a virgin, you loser!"

Worst of all, seeing Chris just stand there, indifferent and unapologetic.

My eyes burned as the tears flowed ceaselessly, my shoulders shaking. I rubbed at my face furiously and shook my head.

I have to give Chris a piece of my mind. 

Flexing my fingers, I pressed Reply. Before I could change my mind, I typed a short response:

I'm sorry, Chris, but I don't want to "catch up" with you. I'm trying hard to forget what happened and I can't do that if we keep contact. Sorry to hear that you're homesick. But I just don't have it in me to do this.

Leena

I hit Send hastily and dropped my head on the table as a fresh wave of tears consumed me.  

I realized that despite everything, I missed Chris. As hard as it was to forget the bad stuff, it was equally impossible to forget all the good times we had had together. The laughter, the secrets, the fun, the inside jokes that we had shared before everything was ruined.

***

I woke to the sound of Claire whispering my name and shaking me softly. I groaned and hoisted myself up into a sitting position. Rubbing my stiff neck, I looked up at her. 

"Hi, darling, sorry to wake you," she said. Gesturing to the large bag in her arms, she said, "You need to eat something. I got Chinese takeout."

I mumbled assent and rubbed my eyes, wondering how I had ended up falling asleep on the couch. Suddenly, I remembered seeing the email from Chris, responding to it, shutting the computer down, and flinging myself onto the couch, exhausted from crying.

Claire peered at me closely when I stood up.

"Leena! What's wrong?" she asked, her face clouded with worry. "Were you crying?"

"Uh, well," I fidgeted.

"Come here," she urged me to sit at the dining table, handing me three takeout containers from the bag. 

Once I opened the containers, I realized just how hungry I was. The smell of vegetable spring rolls, sweet and sour tofu, and fried rice was mouthwatering.

"Wow, this stuff looks great," I beamed, my sullen mood lifting. "Thanks!"

"Enjoy," she said with a smile, sitting down with her own containers of food.

We chewed in silence for a few minutes until Claire cleared her throat and asked, "Lee, why were you crying?"

I sighed. "Chris."

"What?" she asked, her eyes widening. "Are you okay?"

I told her about the email. She scooted closer to me and held my hand as I explained my anger.

"I know he was your best friend, and you might not like to hear this, but I think it's best if you don't talk to him anymore," she said, her forehead creasing with concern.

"But what if he apologizes?" I asked.

"Darling, he's hurt you very much," she said softly. "It shouldn't have taken him this long to apologise. I don't want him to do something stupid and hurt you all over again. You deserve a much better friend."

I nodded. "Thanks, Claire."

I squeezed her hand, grateful for her steady, unwavering support.

"Lee, you don't have to thank me for anything!" she smiled and patted my hand. "I'm here for you, always."

Claire was there for me. She listened to me and cared for me. She did all the things my mother should have been doing. I blinked rapidly, desperate to divert my thoughts. 

Don't go there, Leena.

As we resumed dinner, I thought about what Claire had said about Chris. 

Does she think I am emotionally weak? Am I? Or am I just reading into her words too much?

Afterwards, when our stomachs were full and our plates were empty, I thanked Claire again. 

I headed upstairs to my room, brushed my teeth, and climbed into bed. Every word of Chris's email swirled inside my head. With reluctance, I recalled Claire's advice.

Grudgingly, I realised that if Chris ever replied with an apology, I wouldn't hesitate to forgive him.