I don’t even wait for him to sit down, because the stress is too much for me. Gone is the cool and collected Ari who can handle a client meeting without batting an eye.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I said we shouldn’t see each other. I’m sorry I didn’t try. The contacts look good. I know you have every right to be mad. I’m sorry.”
“Ari, breathe.” He doesn’t touch me, but his voice is gentle.
I take a huge gasping breath and avoid looking at him because I don’t know what to do next. I hate this. I hate talking about anything emotional. I hate being vulnerable and hoping, praying the other person doesn’t make a joke to lighten the mood when I’m not ready to be laughed at or make me feel silly or cut me down for having those feelings. I hate having to give that amount of trust, even to Jihoon.
“We’ll talk,” he adds. I look up quickly and he nods me to the table. His face is drawn and pale under his tan skin, and his arms are crossed.
We sit down in chairs low enough that I land with an inelegantoomph. The silence thickens as I look anywhere but at him and helooks at me. Finally I understand he’s going to wait me out, so I steel myself and raise my eyes to his.
“I panicked,” I say softly. Eye contact makes all this harder, especially with those contacts, but I power through. “I saw the crowds, and it was all so strange, and I choked.”
“What worried you?” His hands are tucked under the table so I can’t see them.
“I’m not sure.” I frown. “A bit of everything? The fame, for sure. The distance. We’ve only known each other a month. We’re busy.”
He nods. “Those are all reasonable concerns that we discussed before I left. You’re using the panic as an excuse when you simply weren’t convinced even after we talked.”
I wince. “We might not have discussed them enough.”
“Then why didn’t you say so? Why didn’t you ask me what I thought or if I had the same fears?”
This makes me frown. “Because we’d talked about it already?”
“Yes, and you continued to have those thoughts. Instead of telling me, instead of communicating, you acted. You acted alone.”
That’s true, but… “I did it because you were happy with trying.”
“I was,” he says simply. “I was happy to try. I wanted to try because I don’t know the future. You were scared to even do that, and you should have told me.”
“I wasn’t scared.”
“You’re lying.” His voice is sharp.
“It was a shock to see the airport,” I say, plucking at a loose thread on the chair. “You told me, but I didn’t understand how famous you were until I saw it myself.”
Jihoon pushes away the cup he’s been playing with. “I was the same person.”
“Let’s be real. Say we date. We can’t go see a movie in the spur of the moment. Apparently we can’t even go to a coffee shop without a disguise. Even if we wanted coffee, it’s a thirteen-hour flight.”
“Others have made it work.” His jaw is set. “We could have, too. You didn’t want to make the effort.”
“That’s unfair.” I yank the thread out completely and fiddle with it. “I didn’t want what we had to fade away.”
“You wanted to keep control.”
That sounds both very bad and like me. I nod. “I guess I did, although I didn’t say that to myself at the time.”
“Yet here you are. None of those things have changed. What do you want from me, Ari?”
I take a deep breath and go for it. “I miss you. I miss talking to you and knowing you were there.” I take another deep breath, wondering if I’m going to start hyperventilating from sucking in all this oxygen, and force the words out. “I screwed up, and I know it. I want to try again.”
It’s out. I put all the cards on the table. He can get up and leave, but at least I won’t have the regret of never letting him know. I won’t live my worst-case scenario. Well, that might happen, but at least I gave it the same effort I would a work project. More, because feelings are much harder to deal with than a memo.
“When you told me it was over, at first I thought it was a joke,” he says mildly. Now he’s looking away from me, over my shoulder. “A very unfunny and cruel joke.”
Shame is the worst feeling. I try not to hide in my chair and instead accept the repercussions of my actions. “I’m sorry.”