Learning to Love

by Trinity Wood

  "So anyway, can I crash at yours in the spare room or the lounge even, while I look for somewhere else to live?"

  Tayla soothes my worries in one go. "Absolutely, as long as you need. Forever. Men are shite. The lot of them." I wonder what happened to make her particularly annoyed this evening.

  "Corey and Florian are going as well," I say, studying her reaction.

  She pins me with her blue eyes and shakes her pink hair. "Of course, they are. They're all as stupid as each other."

  I put my plate and cup down on the coffee table and curl up in a fetal position on the sofa. After these few months with Sam, I’m exhausted. It’s been like surfing on waves that are too big for my level of skill. I’ve fallen one too many times. I drift off to sleep on the sofa with Tayla and Corinne’s concerned whispers in the background. The ocean waits for me in disturbed dreams. I’m drowning, and Sam drifts away from me.

  I settle back into my old routine. Daycare with the kids every day, walking Daisy twice a day, and spending time with Tayla and Corinne in the evenings. They work hard to distract me, and change channels on TV every time there’s any mention of the New Zealand team, sailing, or Sam himself.

  Nobody asks me anything about Sam at daycare. Even my parents don’t mention him. I’m starting to think it was all a dream.

  Did we really date for several months? Did I meet his parents? Did we move in together? It all seems baffling to me. The only thing that’s a constant reminder of him is this dull heartache, that I can’t shake off.

  Sam’s on a crash collision course. He wants to overcome every single thing just to win, to compensate for the loss of Thea. His medal wall, his determination, all make sense. The heartbreak does not.

  Corinne keeps assuring me time will heal all wounds, but it’s hard not to think about him every day. On my commute to daycare, I allow myself to think about him, about what he could be doing at this time. Is he training? Is he running? Is he thinking about me at all?

  ***

  Sam

  I try not to think of Ellie when I have breakfast alone every day. I also try not to think about her when I work out at the gym like a maniac for three hours at least each day. I try not to think about her when I shower. I don’t think about her when I fall asleep. I most certainly don’t drive past the daycare she works at in Takapuna. But then again, I’m a terrible liar.

  We trained for a couple of weeks, and I put my head down. After each session, I left, not hanging around with the other guys. They didn’t say anything, likely thinking I was rushing to get back to Ellie, which isn’t that far from the truth.

  We had a one-week break from training, and I thought about visiting my family, but I didn’t. If I went by myself, they’d ask uncomfortable questions, and I’m not ready to go there yet. I spent my week studiously avoiding Corey and the other boys, reading, watching every travel documentary Netflix has to offer, and waiting for departure day.

  In a cruel twist of fate, I’d chosen to leave on February fourteenth, Valentine’s Day of all days. Since Corey and Florian are both single, they didn’t care too much. I suppose now I’m single too.

  I sigh deeply as I put on the New Zealand team kit and prepare for a media appearance with Corey. I’ve shaved, but I have huge dark circles under my eyes. It’s an outdoor event, so I don’t think they’ll provide any make-up. I look in the mirror. What you see is what you get today, guys.

  I arrive late, so out of character for me.

  Corey’s annoyed. “Bro, it’s just not done, keeping everyone waiting. What were you up to, that you couldn’t make it on time?”

  “Nothing, bro. Good to see you. Don’t see you much these days.”

  Corey doesn’t reply.

  We step out in front of the media in our team outfits and are surprised. It’s not the usual questions. We’re awarded the Corral Cup, an important prize in sailing. Our names will be engraved for eternity onto the side of the silver cup, and the only thing I can think about is whether Ellie is watching on TV. Cameras flash repeatedly, and the film roles never stop.

  Corey steps up the mic with a twinkle in his eye and hand placed humbly on his heart. “We’re very proud to have achieved this for New Zealand. This is for every child who is thinking about taking up sailing. The ocean's the limit. We thank each and everyone of you for making this possible.” Corey, as always, charms the audience.

  A reporter reaches a hand up, speaks loudest. “Sam, talk to us. What does this mean to you?”

  Oh heck. The journalist caught me off-guard. “It was unexpected, but we’re very appreciative.”

  Cameras flash again. They’re giving me a headache.

  Another reporter leans forward. “Corey, what are you most excited about: the Sanders Cup, the Olympics, or the Round the World Ocean Race?”

  That hits a bit too close to home.

  Corey crosses his arms and smiles. “Ah, they’re all great challenges, requiring different skills, and we’re fortunate to be able to participate in all of them, and expand our skillset. We’re proud to be representing New Zealand on all counts.”

  Like a dog with a bone, they’re not letting up. “Sam, tomorrow you’re heading off with Corey and Florian Mittel on the Round the World Ocean race for over a year. It’s Valentine’s Day. How does your girlfriend feel about it?”

  I’ve never been violent in my life, but I could strangle the guy and feed him to seagulls. Corey looks at me intently. I muster some form of self restraint, thinking I need to go to the gym or run a heck of a distance later to burn off some of this anger.

  “We’re here for this momentous occasion, and it’s an amazing achievement not just for us, but for sailing as a sport. Thank you for coming here today to celebrate with us.”

  Somehow, I manage to bypass the question and wrap the session up neatly with a bow.

  I speed out of the building so no journalists catch up to me.

  But I can’t outrun Corey. He falls into step with me. "Hey, wait up, bro. What was that?"

  "What was what?" I feign innocence.

  "You know what. You looked like you were going to murder the guy. All good?" I don't like his line of questioning, so I make a hasty escape back to my car.

  "All good. See you tomorrow at the airport at 7:00 a.m. sharp.” I speed off, leaving Corey full of question marks.

  Rats, that was close. What will people think when they watch it back? Did I really look as murderous as I felt? More importantly, will Ellie watch it? Thinking about her makes my chest fill painfully.

  Starting tomorrow, I'll be away for a really long time. What I wouldn't give to see her one last time.

  Without noticing, my treacherous hands steer towards the Hillcrest highway off-ramp, and I find myself on the way to her house. What the hell am I doing? She doesn't want to see me, she made that entirely clear when she left. That dull ache in my chest doesn't let up.

  Maybe if I see her again one more time, maybe … I'll be able to think of her less. Like reverse psychology but for a broken heart. Or maybe she'll be etched even more in my memory, and I won't be able to shake this feeling … is it a risk I'm willing to take?

  Hillcrest is in stark contrast to Bella Vista. The familiar 1950s houses with their large sections, kids, dogs and mature trees dominate the landscape. No shops, no cafés, no people running, just suburbia.

  Before I can make up my mind what I'm doing, I've already turned onto her street. Am I really going to do this?

  ***

  Ellie

  "Stop barking, Daisy, what's the matter?" Daisy is pretty agitated, and Tayla tries to soothe her. "We're not expecting anyone, are we?" Tayla's looking out the window.

  "No, I don't think so. It's too early for Corinne to be back, she said about 10:00 p.m." Corinne had a show at the Opera tonight, and I can't imagine she would have been able to come home early.

  Tayla and I are spending the evening at home again, watching Netflix and eating junk food, for my sake.

  "Oh, for fuck's
sake." Tayla's grumpy but resigned outburst makes me dash to the window.

  I gasp. Sam's car is parked up on the other side of the street, and he's just standing there leaning against it. He looks pretty rough under the streetlight—dark circles under his eyes, and a five-o-clock shadow stubbling his face. His Team NZ uniform looks a bit worse for wear.

  "Why doesn't this man leave you alone? Isn't he fucking off to Europe tomorrow? Like seriously, he's standing there like a cat in the rain." Tayla's words slice straight through my heart.

  I haven't followed any news about the Round the World Ocean Race on purpose. But tomorrow? So soon? And he shows up here after two weeks? Tears fall freely down my cheek, and I hate myself for not being able to look away. I miss him so much. I touch the windowpane, as if I were able to touch him.

  Tayla tilts her head and crosses her arms. "What is he doing? He’s not even coming up to face you like a man."

  Tayla and I watch in horror as he mouths something, maybe Goodbye, then gets into his car and leaves.

  Chapter 17

  Sam

  My dad always says better to regret the things you've done, than the things you haven't done. For the last few years, I've tried to live my life in such a way that I regret nothing, particularly after I couldn’t rescue Thea. It seems after meeting Ellie last year, I’ve tossed that philosophy out the window.

  I shouldn't have gone to her house yesterday. I shouldn't have stopped across the road. I shouldn't have got out of the car. I shouldn't have stared at Ellie like she was a drink of water in the desert. Then I shouldn't have left without saying a word. She was crying, and I felt like a monster.

  She looked more beautiful than ever, even through her tears. I miss her so much, it's like an emptiness that doesn't go away.

  This morning I'm in a taxi to the airport, on the way to meet up with Corey and Florian for the Round the World Ocean Race start in Malaga. I've decided I'm going to tell them about the break-up. If there's something affecting my mental state, they deserve to know.

  I gather my bags from the taxi, and immediately notice the hearts, balloons, and banners at the airport, celebrating Valentine's Day. Worst day ever. Can't wait for it to be over. The even worse part is that I'm going to live it twice as we fly through to another time zone.

  I check in and move into the special Platinum Elite lounge to wait for the boys, coffee in hand. After not even five minutes, they arrive holding champagne flutes.

  "Guys, it's 7:00 a.m. Come on." I can't believe they're starting so early on the booze. I haven't even had breakfast yet.

  "Time for celebrating, son. We're going around the world." Corey and Florian clink their glasses, and I sigh.

  "Plus, it's Valentine's Day, they were giving them out for free." Florian, ever practical, makes me laugh.

  "How's Ellie? Is she coming to Brazil in April?" Corey takes another sip of champagne.

  I suppose this is as good a time as any. "Ellie and I … we broke up a couple of weeks ago." I continue drinking my coffee, trying not to give too much away.

  Corey almost drops his champagne flute. "You're kidding. Please tell me you're kidding."

  Florian keeps his silence, fixing me with his gaze.

  I look at Corey sadly. "It's not going to work, okay. She's working at the preschool. She doesn't want to traipse around the globe, and I ... I don't think it's fair to her. You've always said we're not cut out for relationships. Why are you so put out now? Anyway, I need breakfast."

  I get up, go to the buffet, pick at some food, hoping for a respite. Meanwhile Corey and Florian are having an animated discussion. I rejoin them, and the conversation stops. Doesn't bother me.

  "So, what are you doing?" Corey's question sounds strange.

  "What do you mean what am I doing? I'm eating breakfast, then waiting for the boarding call, then going to Europe with you two losers." I stuff my mouth with another forkful.

  Corey clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and rolls his eyes. "About Ellie." Am I testing his patience?

  "Nothing. She's moved back to Tayla's. I'm on my own. I'll get over it." I sound more optimistic than I feel.

  "Sam …"

  The announcer's voice provides a welcome interruption. "Air New Zealand flight 310 to Singapore is now boarding from Gate 2. All passengers please go to gate."

  I hastily grab my bag. "That's us." I leg it before Corey or Florian can mention Ellie again.

  It's going to be a long couple of flights. We're doing Auckland - Singapore, Singapore - London, London - Málaga, with not much time in between. I don't want to go sightseeing. I just want to go to Spain and get on that fucking boat, and put as much distance between me and Ellie as possible.

  Corey knows me inside out by now, and when we're sitting together in First Class courtesy of Air New Zealand, Florian right behind us, he can't hold it in any longer. "Sam. I'm worried about you. Like … really worried about you."

  "Nah, all good. I'll be fine. We go to Málaga, start prepping, then head off for a few weeks. Just what the doctor ordered." I'm trying hard to be upbeat.

  The more cheerful I try to seem, the more I start believing it's going to be okay, and Ellie will be a distant memory, and I'll get over her like … like … Damn. Like nothing. I haven't actually had to get over anyone because I've never loved anyone like I loved Ellie.

  Like I love Ellie.

  There it is, that tightness in my chest again. It's not even 9:00 a.m. on the first day away from New Zealand. The time’s going to stop, isn’t it, every second inching along like a snail race. "I fancy some whisky. When's the lady coming round?"

  Corey tosses me a disapproving look. Florian rolls his eyes.

  I slump into my seat. "I'll remind you two saints that not even half an hour ago you were guzzling champagne for breakfast. And I've just lost the love of my life, okay, not that you two know what that's like."

  Florian scoffs at me. "Oh, is that so? Tell us more. I'm dying to hear it."

  I raise an eyebrow just as the flight attendant comes past to take orders. "I'd like a whisky please. Make it a double." I'm belligerent again, and I'll be damned if they're going to make me feel guilty about it.

  Corey smiles, showing every single tooth in his head, I swear. "A fruit tea please."

  It’s my turn to roll my eyes.

  "A black tea, no sugar, please." Florian's order is just the icing on the cake.

  "Oh, for fuck's sake." I put my headphones on and try to rest, listening to music and ignoring Corey. I can't sleep a wink. Every fucking song makes me think about Ellie. The flight attendant comes back with the whisky glass and some morning tea for us—cheese scones, pastries, dainty sandwiches.

  Florian hoovers up the food. "I was starving. Should have had some breakfast back in the lounge." He eyes my plate now.

  I pass it to him. At least someone can enjoy it.

  Corey's dark gaze fixes on me. "So whose idea was it … the break-up?"

  I shake my head in disbelief. "You're not going to let this slide, are you? Why do you even care? Seriously. You weren't even a fan of our relationship. I distinctly recall you badgering me about it making me a worse sailor. Ellie and Tayla being gold diggers. You spout that shit for quite some time." I take a sip of whisky, and it burns my throat. This is a bad idea, and I'll probably pay for it later. But for now, it dulls the ache. I take another sip.

  Corey looks into the distance, his thoughts far away. "Let's say I've changed my mind."

  "I'm … I don't know what to say, Corey. I genuinely don't know what to say." Corey and I have been sailing together for over fifteen years. Within that time, he's never changed his mind about anything. Whatever persuaded him, it must be powerful.

  "Sam …” Florian's voice lifts, subdued, from behind us. “I have a question."

  "Not you too, please. Ellie and I have broken up, and that's the end of it." Only sixteen hours left to go, and these two are driving me insane. How many whiskies can I drink in sixteen hour
s without going into a coma?

  "Nah, wasn't going to ask about that. Something else … More personal." Florian's voice is even quieter.

  I sigh. "Okay. Ask away. Seems like I won't be able to sleep on this flight with you two nattering away."

  "I'm sorry. I just wanted to know … what is it like to make love with someone you're in love with?"

  Out of all the questions he could have asked at that particular time I wasn't expecting that one. He could have asked me whether I think there are aliens on Mars, and I wouldn't have found it as strange. Or if Captain Nemo's Nautilus really existed. Or of the Auckland house prices are going up again. Or what shoe size my mother wears.

  Corey and I turn to face him at the same time. Corey looks quite comical with a half-eaten pastry lifted halfway to his mouth, and I probably look like a deer caught in headlights.

  "Uhhhh … Like … ummm …" I'm lost for words, holding onto my whisky glass for dear life.

  "Like how does it feel? Does it feel different than with someone you don't love?" Florian's words make sense, but they also don't make sense. How can it be? Have I had too much whisky on an empty stomach? But I've had breakfast. Maybe I should lie down and try to sleep a bit. It might clear my head.

  "Aaaah …" I rub my head and cover my face with my hands. "I really want to know why you're asking me this, but I have a feeling you won't tell me."

  Florian nods sadly.

  "Uhh … it's different. Very different." I try to find words to describe what Ellie and I shared, and there's nothing that comes to mind to do it justice. But I try. "You want to make the one you love happy and content. You want them to want you just as much as you want them. It's not just about the sex. It's also about companionship … being there in the moment, but also with the future in mind." I must look as miserable as I feel as I turn back around because Corey puts a hand on my shoulder.