Five Years Late by Mitchie Gonzales

This story is part of the Make it Bitter or Make it Better Writing Challenge, where we invited writers to explore the storytelling possibilities of a simple situation. We gave authors free reign to interpret the prompt as they see fit, provided that they give their story a clear ending.

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Five Years Late

It was an ordinary Saturday, I remember, having just finished my work, when I received a call from an old friend, who wanted to rent my old apartment back in the province. 

“Sure, Jim, I can offer it to you for a small price a month,” I told him. “However, I left some of my old things there, like my writing desk and my refrigerator. I don’t mind leaving them there for a while, but please do take care of them.”

“Sure, but I’m just calling for another friend,” he said. “I’d like to help him out, as he was just newly married and all. I’m sure you remember Grayson?” There was hint of teasing in his voice. 

Grayson. The memories of hot, steamy showers, and urgent kisses filled my mind. I shook my head. “Oh, he settled down?” My voice broke a little. I looked around the kitchen. I was alone. 

Jim chuckled. “He had no choice. He knocked the poor girl up.” I shook my head and sighed. Why am I not surprised? Jim continued, “Anyway, he seems familiar with your place.” He chuckled.

I rolled my eyes. “That was five years ago, Jim. Let it go. Grow up.”

“Anyway, thanks, Chen,” Jim said. “I’ll let Grayson know, and he’ll get in touch with you.”

Shaking my head, I ended the call only to find my husband, standing in the kitchen doorway. “Oh, hey, Jim called. He said Grayson wanted to rent our old apartment.”

Lance looked surprised. “Grayson? Why?”

I shrugged. “He just got married, and they need a place.”

Lance nodded. He looked at me suspiciously. “Okay, okay, I’ll handle it for you.”

“Sure, sure,” I said, breathlessly, suddenly wanting to get out of here. Sure, why would I want to handle business with an ex? No, not an ex-lover, I reminded myself. 

That night, I was in the tub, trying not to think of these circumstances, when Lance popped his head in. “Hey, Chen, you don’t mind me going back to the old apartment to show Grayson around and give him the keys?”

You don’t need to show him around, I wanted to say. I looked up from the water, hugged my knees to my chest, and smiled. “Sure, why not? Saves me the time.”

He leaned on the doorway. “Do you—?” He stopped and sighed, watching me closely. 

“What?”

“Do you want to go with me?”

“No,” I shook my head. “No need. Why? Do you need me?”

He shook his head. “No, I can do it. It’s just you and Grayson—“ He paused and searched my face again. I wanted to look down, but I can’t. There was a long silence then he sighed. “Never mind.” He smiled, and left. 

I sighed. I felt tears sprung up from my eyes. Stop it, I scolded myself. That was five years ago. Five long years without any word from him. I wiped the tears with bathwater and climbed out of the tub. 

Lance was waiting for me in the bedroom. His face was solemn, serious, as he took me in, removing the towel draped around my body. He slowly captured my lips as he took me in my arms. We made love that night, silently, slowly, and almost fervently. 

Grayson, do you know I hoped—prayed—that that was enough to stop you from coming back? To stop me from remembering and going back?

It had been weeks since then. I didn’t hear anything from Grayson, as it was my husband who dealt with him. Again, it was just an ordinary weekend. Lance was out of town for a conference, when I received a message from an unknown number. 

You did not empty the writing table.   

Writing table? I frowned. I replied: Who is this? Grayson?

RINGGGGGGG! I jumped as I answered the call. “Hello? Grayson?”

Then I heard his all-too familiar soft low voice. It was almost a whisper, but held gravity, just as well. Like a forbidden secret. “Chen, it’s me. You did not clean the writing table.”

I scoffed. “Well, sorry, I haven’t been there in ages.” What is this about the writing table?

There was a pause. “I was hoping to meet you. Can I meet you now?”

“What for?” My heart started racing. My mind started reeling. How? It was only a question. Really, a harmless question. “Is there something wrong with the apartment? I can get Lance to—“

He let out a low humorless chuckle. “Really, Lance? I’m not sure he wants to see this. I’m lucky my wife didn’t clean the drawers of the table and see this.”

Color drained out of my face. My hands turned cold. “What?” I couldn’t comprehend what our respective spouses shouldn’t particularly know, but my gut feeling was tingling. 

He continued quickly, “Why didn’t you tell me? You left so rashly five years ago? Then you sprung this on me? Is this a joke? Leaving your letter carelessly like this?”

I left rashly? Left a letter carelessly? What is this idiot rambling about? “What letter?” I exclaimed. “I did not write any letter! And for the record, it was you! Five years ago was all your fault, and you know why I had to leave!” I seethed at the phone. 

I heard him sigh. “It doesn’t matter. Can we meet and talk?”

It doesn’t matter, huh? I scoffed. “No! I’m married, Grayson—“

“So am I!” He exclaimed impatiently, “Do you think I’m going to do something to you?”

I felt my face turn red. “Well—uhm—“

He laughed and said, “Do you want me to do something with you?”

“NO!” I shouted. 

He laughed again—the all-too familiar sound. Annoying! “Come on, Chen, we both know not to do anything now.”

“I don’t want to give Lance a reason to doubt me now.”

He paused and asked, “Does he know anything about us?”

I looked at the phone and answered softly, “Yes. I don’t want to hide anything from my husband.”

He sighed. “Well, it’s your marriage, sure. But at least let me clear some things up. You can always tell Lance about this, no problem! But maybe after us meeting?”

I sighed. “You’re persistent.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t persistent five years ago,” he said quietly. 

I closed my eyes and didn’t answer. 

“Meet me at the cliffside. Seven.” Surprised, I opened my mouth, but he hung up abruptly.

The cliffside? I let out an angry squeal as I threw the phone back at the bed. Stupid, stupid, Grayson! The cliffside? Of all places!

I must be dumber than him, because I found myself driving slowly up that little hill. I have been glancing on my phone every now and then. I don’t even know whose call am I waiting for? Lance? Grayson? The mere thought of Lance shook me, and made me all guilt-ridden inside. I took breaths every now and then, trying to remind myself that nothing is going to happen. I will be out of here before Grayson can do any of his tricks, his charm, his—UGH! I slapped my hand on the wheel. Focus, Chen! You’re married, for God’s sake!

As I drove up the bend, I saw it: the wide grassy cliffside. I see that people have built a tiny fence on the side, but the view of the sea and the port was still breathtaking. 

I took a deep breath as I saw a white truck parked on the side. I parked my car behind it. I slowly went out. There he was, looking unbothered, leaning against the side of his truck, hands on his pocket. 

His hair had grown long, reaching his shoulders. He still had the same deep eyes, the same smirk, but his face softened when he turned to look at me. 

I stopped on my tracks. Focus, Chen! It’s just a little talk. About a letter, he said?

“Chen,” he said my name in a low voice. “How are you?”

I pushed myself to walk towards him and swallowed anxiously, hoping to push my heart, almost spilling out of my mouth, back in my chest. It didn’t stop hammering against my ribs, though. “Good, good, Lance and I are doing well.” 

He scoffed. “Yeah, I didn’t ask about him.”

My eyes narrowed. “Well, how’s the married life? Congratulations.”

He chuckled at the steel of my voice as he suddenly grabbed my arm towards him. My eyes widened and instinctively pulled my arm away from his grasp. “Are you jealous?” he laughed. 

 “Why would I be?!” I flipped my hair back, alternating my weight from foot to foot, as I tried my best to look…unbothered…as well. I tried to look away. 

He watched me and chuckled. I looked back at him, and met his deep soft eyes gazing at me. His smile was warm and inviting. I almost drowned in that gaze, as I couldn’t help but study his face. It was like…five years didn’t pass. But they did. I can spot a few wrinkles here and there. His left finger was sporting a silver band. 

“What?” I breathed. 

He shrugged as he took a paper out of his pocket and handed it to me. 

“What’s this?” I took it and unfolded it. It was almost brown, and the ink has already seeped onto the back page, and it has my scrawly handwriting on it.

“What the fu—“I gasped as it suddenly dawned onto me. It was the letter I wrote a month after getting married. That month was the toughest, trying to live and to synchronize day-to-day activities with Lance, figuring married stuff. I also miscarried at that time. I remembered threatening to leave him. 

April 2, 2017

Grayson, 

I was hoping you’d show up and stop the wedding—

I immediately folded the paper and closed my eyes. Tears suddenly appeared again. My breaths came in hitches, as I struggled not to make a noise. Not now. Not in front of Grayson. I ducked my head, but of course, he was quicker. 

“Hey, hey, Chen!” He was in front of me instantly, with his hands framing my face. I tried to pull away. “Grayson, stop—“

“It’s okay,” he reassured me. He suddenly hugged me. No, no no! I felt his big warm hands caressing my back, trying to comfort me. 

I pushed him away, and looked around. “Stop it, Grayson! You’ll screw things for us!” I mumbled in irritation. 

He scoffed, looking at me. “I’m trying to comfort you! It’s normal, not a sin!”

I looked down, and opened the letter again. 

I was hoping you’d show up and stop the wedding, but you never came. They thought I was the blushing bride in tears, but I was praying throughout the ceremony. I was praying you’d come and speak out. That you would pull me away, would convince me to run away. I might, you know. I would. 

I meant what I said the night we broke up. Broke up? There was never us, right? You never told me what I was to you. Still, I meant every word, because I have loved you. I want you to be happy. I want you to fall in love with someone, and realize what falling in love means.

It doesn’t matter if it will not be me. I will accept.  

I still think of you now—well, always. It’s too late, but despite everything, I hope you’re doing well. I hope you the best. I hope you’re not spending nights with different girls whose names you can’t remember. I hope you’ve grown up—somehow.

I still wonder when I’ll see you again. Will things be different? I wonder at nights if you’ll text, if you’ll call, or if sometime later, we’ll meet again serendipitously. Because I think that’s the only way we can meet again. 

I hope things were different. I hope there’s another alternate universe out there where, maybe, just maybe, I ended up with you instead.

I instantly wiped the threatening tears away as I crumpled the paper. I didn’t sign it. Good. I forced myself to look up. His eyes were intently staring at mine.

“So?” I said strongly, my voice breaking. “This was five years ago, Grayson. What of it?”

He suddenly looked shocked. “What of it?!” 

I nodded. “Uh-huh, five years ago. Nothing more.” I shrugged.

“Nothing more?!” He thundered.

I pretended to sigh. “That was close! I’m happy you found it! Just think if your wife found out about this—“

“Does Lance know about this letter?!” He demanded. 

I glared at him. “Why would I let him know, dumbass?!”

He sniggered and mocked me in a girly voice. “What happened to ‘not keeping things from my husband’?”

I slapped his arm in frustration. “As if I can tell him this! This letter! You?! ANY OF THIS!”

“You told me he knew—“

“He knew we were fucking around!” I shouted. “Before he and I got married!”

He fell silent. “And?”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘AND’?!” I shouted. “What else is there, Grayson?”

“Does he think you still love me?” he said quietly.

I was taken aback. “What—?” I sputtered. “Grayson, you’re out of your mind!”

“Is that why you’re all being secretive, tiptoeing around to meet me?” He said.

“I mean, does he have an inkling? That you have feelings for me?”

SLAP! My hand flew against his cheek and the sound resounded against the wind. “YOU. DON’T. GET. TO SAY. THINGS. LIKE THIS!” I thundered.

“Chen—“

“Lance gave me what you couldn’t! He gave me a title! I was his girlfriend! I am now his wife!” I shouted. The words were quickly tumbling out of my lips before I can’t stop them. “He was there when you were not. And why would you be there, Grayson? What was I to you, huh?”

“Chen—“

“JUST SAY IT GRAYSON! WHAT WERE WE?” I thundered.

“You were someone I cared for—“

“FUCK BUDDIES!” I shouted the answer. “Stop sugarcoating, Grayson. You could always care for Jim, or any of your friends. Stop saying you—“

“But I did love you!” Grayson suddenly shouted, grabbing my shoulders and shook me. “I did love you! I still love you!”

My hands suddenly flew to cover his mouth in panic. “NO—“

But in one shake, his left hand grabbed both of my wrists and I felt his lips forcefully crashing into mine.

Those familiar lips. Those familiar texture and softness. I tasted him again. After five long years. I couldn’t help but cry. 

He let me pull away, then embraced me to him. “Shhh, shh, it’s okay. We’ll be fine.”

“Grayson,” I pushed him away. “Stop, please.”

He sighed as he stepped away from me, putting his hands above in a resigned gesture. “I—“ He started. “I’m sorry. That’s not an excuse, I know, for all the things I have put you through.”

“You did,” I nodded, wiping my things. “You never saw me more than a good time, did you?”

He sighed sharply. “No, Chen, please, I just—I was scared, okay? Doesn’t mean I didn’t have feelings, Chen! I did!”

“Well, I found someone who was not scared,” I mumbled. “Someone who loves me.”

He ignored me. He started pacing around. “Why do you think I couldn’t go to your wedding?” He exclaimed. “I mean, what idiot thinks she could just invite an ex to watch her get hitched to another man?”

“An idiot who expected more from you,” I answered tensely. “Again, we’re not exes. An ex had a title. You never gave me one!”

“Chen—“

“It doesn’t matter, Grayson,” I shook my head. “You’re five years too late,” I said quietly. 

“Do you love him?” he asked me quietly. “Do you regret marrying him?”

I caught my breath as I gazed on his face. I thought back on the last five years, those days of what could have been. But Lance has been good! I shook my head. “I don’t regret marrying him.” I crumpled the paper in my hands. 

“Do you love him?” he repeated. 

I looked back at him and nodded. “Do you love her?”

He looked surprised and looked away. “Uhm,” he shrugged. “Sure, I guess.”

I chuckled as I looked out into the sea. “See? It doesn’t matter.” He tried to touch me, but I pulled away. I showed him the letter and crumpled it in front of his eyes. I smiled sadly, “It doesn’t matter.”

He dropped his hand down and looked away, nodding. “I understand.”

We stood there, silently, five feet away from each other, looking out into the cliffside. 

“The last time we were here,” he said. “You said goodbye because you were choosing him.” 

I nodded. “Yes, well, I couldn’t choose someone who chooses to sleep with the next girl, Grayson.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry about that.”

I nodded, not looking at him, but I can feel his eyes on me. “Yeah, it doesn’t matter. But I do hope you cherish her.” 

His face tightened. The silence became deafening. It was only the wind and the waves, now. After a few minutes, I finally said goodbye. He didn’t look at me or say anything. His eyes remained glued to the sea below. 

And there he remained on my rearview mirror, as I drove away, back to the life I know without him. 

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