Along Came You (On Hiatus)

Billie

“Coming!” I yell when the doorbell rings again.

I quickly stir the pan on the stove, wipe my hands and walk quickly to the door. My coily black hair is in a messy bun. I am wearing black biker shorts and a lavender sports bra underneath an orange crop top. Hey! I am in the comfort of my own home, and the only people I expect to be at my door are the concierge guy, Charlie, delivering parcels or my besties, which, let’s face it, have seen me in worse - My friends I mean, not Charlie.

I open the door, and I am immediately rooted in place, stunned at the sight before me. The grin that plasters his face is familiar. I can’t seem to forget those hazel eyes staring back at me. Those full lips, which I had kissed a million times, appear in my dreams still.

Surely, I must be dreaming.

Surely my brain is playing tricks with me. I pinch myself; I am not.

The man in the doorway appears to be taken aback when he sees me, drawing a sharp breath before he relaxes.

“Billie,” he says with a charming smile. I stand still, my heart beating so fast I can hear it in my ears. My mouth opens, but no words come out. It seems like my mind is “recalculating like a GPS; like a robot short-circuiting. After all, this is not how I expected my evening to go. I was going to sit on the balcony to have dinner, with ‘Emily in Paris’ keeping me company on my tablet.

“Julian!” I finally manage to murmur. It was barely a whisper. My heart skips several beats. My tense shoulder falls. I take deep and purposeful breaths as if what I utter next is life or death.

“Hey,” he says softly as he lifts his hands, brushing curly flyaway strands off my face and tucking it behind my ear.

Mm. I missed that touch.

Before I know it, he pulls me into a soft embrace. He kisses my cheek and whispers, “It is good to see you, Billie.” My skin tingles, and butterflies dance in my tummy.

He smells perfect, bergamot and sandalwood, with a hint of - I inhale deeply - mandarin. I am in a trance-like state.

What is happening? Is Julian really here? Are these his arms wrapped around me? Are those his hands, his lips, his voice?

I had dreamt of this day, seeing him again, the man who ruined me with his goodbye five years ago when he moved to London. Julian Alexander Weston! My first and only love. I had convinced myself, though, that I was over him. That I no longer had feelings for him. I tried dating others, but it just was not quite the same. Sex with them was not the same. I never reached orgasm. No, not with them. Only him. My first. It had been three years since I dated anybody. In my head, no one could replace Julian even if they tried. But did I want somebody like Julian? Where did that get me? I needed something different. Wanted something different, craved something different. But for now, Julian may have to do it.

I snap out of my trance and manage to encircle my arms around his neck, my head buried in his chest.

How I’ve missed you, I thought to myself.

Julian releases me from his hug, but his hands rest on my shoulders. He cocks his head, “You look –,” he pauses with a lingering gaze, “- amazing! Just like I remember.”

I am in shock and can’t seem to move or say anything fast enough, my mouth slightly agape and eyes boring into him. I feel happy, frightened and angry at the same time.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Yeah,” I move aside and gesture him into my apartment.

“Nice place you’ve got here. Quite small…but cozy.” He looks around.

That leaves a sour taste in my mouth, hearing him say that. He would never be satisfied living in a small apartment like mine. Possessions, wealth, making a name for himself, and being seen are what mattered to him back then and likely still do. That is why he left Toronto five years ago. To seek something better. Julian came from a relatively poor and dysfunctional family. His abusive dad left when he was seven years old. Julian’s mum jumped from one man to another, some abusive. If they hurt her, she didn’t show it. I never judged, given these men helped to keep the lights on. If Julian was “really good,” his mum would feed him two meals daily. Most days, cereal was all he had. Through all that turmoil, Julian was a go-getter. He learned to fend for himself. Like his mother, he knew how to manipulate people to get what he wanted.

I met him in my sophomore year at university. He was a junior, and boy, was he a charmer. He was popular with the ladies, but then he said he only had eyes for me. “I choose you,” he would often say to me. We broke up a few times during our university years, but in the end, he always came running back to me, and I always took him back. I was naive and in love.

After he graduated, Julian got a job at an investment company in downtown Toronto. Julian had some bad qualities, philandering, temper, and jealousy, but laziness was not one of them. He worked hard, impressing his bosses by going above and beyond to keep clients happy while raking in millions for his company. He earned a well-deserved promotion, which meant he had to move across the pond to London. He never intended for me to go away with him. In fact, he became very distant closer to the time of his leaving. If he was sad or heartbroken when he broke up with me days before leaving, he didn’t show it. My heart broke in a way it had never before. My friends and Aunt Vera said, “Good riddance.” They all believed he did not deserve me, and they were right. Right?

My parents divorced when I was eight. My father made a new family for himself. He didn’t want joint custody. I was so angry with him that I ended all communications with him and refused to see him. I could tell my mother’s heart was breaking for me because she thought I needed my father in my life. When my mother died in a car accident a year later, I went to live with my mother’s sister, Aunt Vera. I had been in the car with my mother when it crashed. She died, I lived. I felt I didn’t deserve life or love. I unconsciously sabotaged anything good in my life.

My aunt sat me down one day and gave me some tough love. She told me not to feel sorry for myself, and if I was really sorry I survived and my mum didn’t, then I should make the best out of my life and not waste it. I listened and delved into various hobbies until I became good at them. I joined my school’s music group after learning to play the piano and violin. I took up archery and horse riding. Perfected games like pool, darts and chess. The only thing I didn’t go all in was mixed martial arts - I learned some valuable skills but can’t say I perfected it. I was an all-rounded girl, but when it came to matters of the heart, I came up short. I wouldn’t say I was that popular at school, but I was well-liked by anyone who met me Though, all the popular girls hated me because most guys wanted to date me. I dated no one in my school years; perhaps that is why I lacked knowledge in matters of the heart. But then I met Julian.

When I met Julian, he made me feel like it was ok to be truly happy despite my past. Although Julian made me happy there was also hurt, tears, turmoil, anger, shame and anguish that came with his love, and I had convinced myself that that was the kind of love I needed, deserved, and wanted. True love is supposed to hurt, right? I believed I had to give my all in order for anyone to find me worthy of love. I lost myself in our relationship so much that I no longer knew who I was when it was over.

As he stands here now, in my living room, with that big smile on his face, all I can think about is running to him and never letting go.

Why do I still want to be with him? Why am I like this? Get a grip on yourself, Billie. Remember, he broke your heart. He was the one that left and didn’t look back. He was the one that didn’t want to be with you.

He said he didn’t want to hold me back or lose my way in supporting him as he chased his dreams. Looking back now, I think he really meant to say he didn’t want me holding him back. He was ready for something new; the world was his oyster, and wanted to enjoy it unencumbered with commitments other than his job.

Remember Billie? He was the reason your depression resurfaced; He was the reason you had to change your meds so many times. He was the reason you went to therapy. Because of him you couldn’t eat and slept all day. He was the one who made you cry in your bed most days. He was the one that made you feel like you didn’t want to be here. He was why you wouldn’t listen to love songs or watch TV. He was the one who took your laughter away. He was the reason you wouldn’t talk to anyone because had nothing to say. He was the reason you felt you weren’t enough; enough for him to stay and love you as you did him. Remember? Remember? My brain screams at me. None of that matters. He is back. He is here in my living room and saying my name.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, walking slowly to the stove to ensure my dinner isn’t burning. I stir the contents in the pan and turn towards him, hoping he will say he came back for me and that he realised he couldn’t live without me.

Get a hold of yourself, Billie! My brain kicked in again. Why are you like this around him? We are not going back there. This man destroyed you, and it took your friends, your family doctor and your psychiatrist to help you pick up the pieces. All Julian left me with was panic attacks which I had well under control.

“I came to see you” He puts his hands on his hips. “ I had to see you. I was hoping you might want to see me too?” He paused, “I’ll go if...” He begins to say as he turns towards the door.

“Don’t!” I say too quickly. “I am just surprised to see you here, that’s all.”

He solemnly walks up to me in the kitchen, “I am back for good. I got another job a few months ago and managed to get myself to their Toronto branch. I’ve been in town for a couple of weeks.”

“A couple of weeks?” I turned back to the stove. He has been here for 2 weeks and is now showing his face? Fuck! Why did that bother me? You are over him, remember?

“Yeah. I wanted to reach out sooner, but…” he stops standing about a foot away from me. He grazes my arms, “I just had to see you,” he said softly, looking at me with those gorgeous eyes.

Darn! Why does he have to be so good-looking? Does he know what he is doing? Of course, he does. Everything Julian does is calculated. That is his manipulative side. He is laying a trap for me, and I want to fall into it. He is trying to seduce me, and I am willingly letting him.

“Ok”. I look up at him. OK? Is that all you can say? Curse him out, push him away, tell him to leave and never return. Ok, fine, reason you win. I’ll ask him to…

“Stay for dinner?” I asked. WHAT!? What are you doing? You were supposed to kick him out.

He shakes his head slowly, “No. I have an appetite for something else”. He is now standing very close to me. He cups my face, studying it. His focus turns to my lips.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he says seductively as he moves my hands around his neck.

Why are you blushing, Billie! What are you doing?

I swallow hard. My heart is beating fast. I yearn for him to hold me. I am throbbing between my thighs. I bite my lower lip as he brushes his thumb on them. My head is saying stop, but my body is liking this.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and I will stop,” Julian whispers in my ear.

The hair on my neck stands erect. I find myself melting at his voice. “Julian,” I whisper as his lips graze the side of my neck. “I want this.”