“Sure,” I said without looking at him.
Clara was originally going to drive him, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about the change of plans, which would prolong the agony.
We pulled into Greg and Clara’s. Elec ran in to gather his belongings while I waited in the car. Since we had a little extra time, the plan was to go to my mother’s house and check on her before we headed to the airport.
He’d left his phone on the seat and a text came through. The screen was lit, and I couldn’t help peeking down at it. It was from Chelsea.
I’m going to wait up. I can’t wait until you’re home. Have a safe flight. Love you.
I regretted looking at it because it solidified that this was really the end.
Before I could wallow in self-pity, Elec approached carrying a large black travel bag. He got in, looked down at his phone and sent a quick text as I put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway.
Mom wasn’t home when we got to the house. When I texted her, she said she’d gone for a walk.
It certainly wasn’t my intention to find myself alone with Elec in the house that held all of our memories together.
He leaned against the counter. “Hey, you got any of your ice cream lying around? I’ve been jonesing it for seven years.”
I’ve been jonesing you for seven years.
“You might just be in luck,” I said, opening the freezer.
Ironically, thinking I was going to need it, I’d made a batch with my old ice cream maker the night before the funeral and put it in the freezer. Of course, I never came home to have it.
I scooped it out into one bowl and took two spoons out of the drawer. We always shared the bowl and for old times’ sake, I kept to that tradition.
“You put extra snickers in it.”
I smiled. “I did.”
He closed his eyes and moaned upon taking the first bite. “There is nothing better than your fucking ass cream. I’ve missed it.”
I’ve missed this.
Being in this kitchen and sharing the ice cream with him made it really feel like yesterday more than any other moment up until now. I wished we could go back to that time for just one more day. He’d be right upstairs and not heading home to her. We’d play our video game. It was so simple then.
Then, memories of the night he made love to me started to flash through my mind at a tremendous pace. Not so simple. His leaving was starting to really hit me all of a sudden. The silence wasn’t working for me anymore, and I tried to make light conversation to mask my melancholy.
“What did Greg and Clara have to say?”
“They were asking where we went. I told them.”
“Did they think it was bizarre?”
“I could tell Greg was a little concerned.”
“Why would he be concerned?”
He pulled the spoon slowly from his mouth and looked down in hesitation. “He knows.”
“Knows what?”
“About us.”
I put my spoon down and wiped the corners of my mouth. “How?”
“I confided in him a few years back. I knew he wouldn’t tell Randy.”
“Why would you tell him?”
“Because I felt like I needed to talk about it. I didn’t have anyone else I could trust.”
“It’s just…you told me not to tell anyone, and I didn’t for a long time until I finally told Victoria years later.”
“Greg is the only person I told.”
“I just didn’t think—”
He raised the tone of his voice. “You didn’t think what happened between us affected me in the same way it affected you. I know. Because I led you to believe that.”
“I guess it doesn’t matter anymore,” I said under my breath so low that I didn’t think he heard me.
Elec scowled as he took the empty bowl to the sink, washed it and put it in the strainer.
He looked back at me. “You’ll always matter to me, Greta. Always.”
I just nodded, refusing to shed a tear but feeling completely broken inside. This was different from the last time we said goodbye. Back then, even though I was an emotional wreck, I was young and suspected that my feelings might have been infatuation and that I would grow out of it.
Unfortunately, this time with the advantage of experience and hindsight, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I was hopelessly in love with him.
***
The drive to Logan Airport seemed like it only took a few minutes. A pink hue lit up the sky, appropriate symbolism for sending Elec off into the sunset. Unprepared for how to say goodbye, I opted not to say anything at all during the ride, and neither did he.
As we exited the car at the curb just outside the entrance to his terminal, the wind was powerful amidst the deafening sound of jets taking off.