Pitbabe S2, Chapter 17 pg8

 Pitbabe S2, Chapter 17 pg8

   “What now?”

   I asked in a tired drawl, exasperated at dealing with hourly headaches from people years older than me.

   “It’s trending again.”

   Dr. Chris handed me the phone, while Jeff, standing behind him, made a gesture as if to stop him. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but when he saw the phone already in my hand, my younger brother just sighed and nodded resignedly, as if to say, “Do whatever you want.”

   I took the phone from him and looked down at what had made him rush into the house so excitedly. It was an image shared over ten thousand times on social media—a dark, blurry photo, clearly taken secretly. What made it intriguing was the sight of two young men sitting close together in what seemed like a club or bar, their faces so near it looked like they were kissing.

   Without digging deeper, even though the faces in the photo weren’t clear, I instantly knew who they were.

   “I told you not to show him,” Jeff muttered to Dr. Chris, while the gossip-spreader acted unfazed by the heavy atmosphere now settling over my new house.

   “Yeah, why’d you have to show me?” I said, handing the phone back to the doctor before turning my attention to the scattered belongings in the living room. A quick glance told me almost everything was here. I’d probably need to move the clothing boxes into the bedroom, or there’d be no space left out here to sit and rest before sorting things onto shelves. “Go ahead and bring in the rest. I’ll clear some stuff into the bedroom first.”

   No conversation followed. Jeff whispered something to Phii Alan, then grumbled at Dr. Chris again, likely about showing me that photo. After that, the car shop couple headed outside, leaving only the doctor still standing there, staring at my back as if expecting me to say something about the image making the rounds.

   “People are talking about you a lot,” Dr. Chris said.

   “Well, they should. It’d be weird if they didn’t.”

   “They’re saying Babe cheated on you, and the third wheel is Willy.”

   “From the photo, you could think that,” I replied while carrying a tall floor lamp to a corner of the living room, deciding it’d stay there permanently. “People love to interpret what they see.”

   “And what do you think? Is it true?”

   “I don’t know,” I said, the most I could offer. No, it was the only answer I could give. “But whether it’s true or not, does it matter? Babe and I aren’t together anymore. Even if he did cheat, so what? The truth is, we’re done.”

   “Breaking up because of cheating isn’t the same as breaking up for other reasons.”

   “It’s the same,” I said, turning to meet his gaze, hoping my eyes made it clear I didn’t want to hear about this anymore, no matter how much it fascinated others. “Whatever the reason, it’s over. We’re done, no longer involved, each living our own lives.”

   Dr. Chris looked at me silently. He probably had a dozen questions and comments swirling in his head, but he chose to swallow them.

   “Yeah, you’re right.”

   I was glad he did. After all the stuff was brought into the house, everyone sat down to rest, sipping sweet drinks for about half an hour before heading out. I offered to treat them to dinner as thanks for helping with the move, but they all declined in unison. So, that evening, I was left alone in my new house, surrounded by dozens of boxes of various sizes. It’d probably take at least two days to get everything sorted and in place.

   In fact, I’m a bit relieved that everyone chose to part ways earlier today, because it’s not just moving house that’s exhausting, but some news has drained my energy in a way I can’t help. I didn’t say much after talking with Dr. Chris, but everyone could probably guess that my mind wasn’t exactly in a normal state. Of course, when a lover you’ve just broken up with suddenly has a picture of them kissing another man leak out. I think only God could remain indifferent, because He probably doesn’t have this kind of obsessive, foolish love to begin with. I guess that’s how it is. I don’t know. I’m not even religious.

   I don’t know what to call this feeling right now. At first, I wanted explanations—why were they together, why did it have to be Willy? What did they talk about, are they dating or not, when did this story start, after we broke up or before? What did that kiss mean? Was it because Babe needed comfort, or because they’re passionately in love?

   I’m not as strong as I appeared in front of Dr. Chris. I want to know everything.

   But then reality hit me square in the face, shaking my brain and the foolish lump of flesh in my chest. The truth is, no matter what the answers to those questions are, it doesn’t matter anymore. The key phrase is, “We’ve broken up.” Even if I knew the whole story, it wouldn’t change anything. I’ll keep doing what I planned. As for Babe, he’ll go his own way. Of course, the story might shift slightly if whatever happened between Babe and Willy started before we broke up. That would leave a gaping wound in me, but if I press down on that wound and look at it, if that’s really the case, it only makes it clearer that there’s no reason to hold on to each other anymore. Babe’s words when he gave me that choice back then might even seem more reasonable than I first thought.

   To say I’m sad wouldn’t be wrong. Angry… maybe a little. But there’s one thing that’s ironic. Just thinking about it makes me feel ashamed—that even now, I’m still making excuses for Babe.

   I believe Babe didn’t cheat.

   Of course, I have tons of questions. I’m just a foolish human who interprets everything based on what I see. But deep down, at the edge of awareness, I keep telling myself over and over that there’s no way Babe would ever cheat on me. Even if everyone else believes otherwise, I’ll be the one standing here alone.

   The lonely silence swallowing my new house makes me sink deeper into my thoughts minute by minute. I sit on the floor in the living room, with only one light on, surrounded by small and large light brown cardboard boxes, drowning in endless loneliness, hoping for answers to questions I don’t even dare to voice.

   Until the doorbell rings.

   Someone must have forgotten something.

   I get up to open the door, thinking it’s probably Phii Alan, Jeff, or maybe Dr. Chris.

   “Phii Alan said you got a new address.”

   No way.

   That’s all a lie.

   “I remembered you left something at my place… so I brought it over.”

   I thought it would be Phii Alan, Jeff, or Dr. Chris, but I hoped it would be him.

   Without calling or texting. Without saying it’s moving day. Without saying where I moved to. Without saying I saw that picture, or how I’m feeling.

   I hoped he’d somehow know on his own that he should come, show up at my doorstep, ring the bell, and wait for me to open the door. Look at me, meet my eyes, use any excuse, no matter how absurd, and I’d be ready to believe it. Just as long as he appeared in front of me.

   “Fuck it... you didn’t forget anything.”

   “I know.”

   It was just Babe stopping the frantic feelings raging in my heart.

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