This Love

by Hilaria Alexander

  “Ugh, stop it!” I winced. It wasn’t that Lars wasn’t handsome, quite the opposite. If anyone deserved the title of Adonis, it would have been him. He was physically perfect: tall, muscular, perfectly toned thanks to hours and hours of yoga, short blonde hair coiffed in a hipster cut, pale blue eyes, a bit of blonde and reddish scruff on his face; he even had a nice smile. He was the whole package. In fact, he was almost too good to be true. Guys that good-looking were usually gay. Now, I wasn’t going to deny that my heart did start beating slightly faster when he would adjust my yoga poses, I wasn’t going to deny that it didn’t make me tingly and excited. I wasn’t a nun, I never was. I got excited around him because I hadn’t been touched in so long, I hadn’t been touched since him. So when Lars would touch me, sometimes I would imagine they were Lou’s hands instead. A few, brief seconds of bliss, that would usually be shattered upon hearing Lars voice and not Lou’s. I realized how awful this was, but I felt so desperate for some affection. He had always been flirty with me since Ally and I had started going there, but I always shut down any opportunity to hang out with him after class.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as we left the building.

  “What do you mean what am I doing?”

  “I mean why aren’t you going on a date with this guy who obviously likes you?”

  “I’m not interested,” I replied, frowning. Sure, Lars was cute, but just the thought of it almost made me cringe.

  “Are you waiting on him?”

  “What?” I asked her, pretending I didn’t get her question.

  “You heard me,” she replied. I knew she was just able to read me like an open book.

  “That’s irrelevant.”

  “What is your problem, I wonder?” Ally asked, giving me a questioning look. I remained quiet. My problem was that he wasn’t Lou. I knew it, Ally knew it; poor Lars didn’t have a chance. Even Hendrick—who had come back during the summer after finishing his master’s—had realized there was no chance of us ever getting back together, not even for a night.

  “You and I both know why you aren’t dating anyone,” she added, giving me a glance. I let out a breath, but didn’t say anything. I didn’t know how to reply to her accusations; she wasn’t far off from the truth. It wasn’t that I was purposely waiting on him. It was just that I wasn’t ready to even consider anyone. Okay, maybe I was waiting on him. Or part of me was. The other part wished I could move on.

  It had been six months. Why wasn’t I over him? The feelings I had for him were too big and too many. I missed him, and it hurt to be in love with him when I couldn’t have him, but somehow loving him was the thing that kept me going. It was what gave me purpose and inspiration. I had made the choice, I had to live with it, and so I might as well try my hardest to accomplish what I wanted.

  And I was trying. I was literally hustling all day, every day. So much so, I was always tired. I would fall asleep on the tram, at the dinner table, and apparently now during yoga class.

  “Are we having dinner?” Ally asked.

  “I can’t, I promised a five year old I would snuggle with her!”

  “Well you know I’m leaving the day after tomorrow...”

  “Oh, right. You’re going home to visit your family,” I said. Ally had told me about her plans to go to Tennessee for Christmas. Just thinking about the word Tennessee made me think of him.

  “I wish you would have decided to come with me.”

  Ally had invited me to go with her weeks ago. I was too busy with school at the time, and I didn’t want to go back home. Plus, I knew my parents would want me to spend time with them and I knew what Ally’s purpose was: get Lou and me together. I didn’t want to see him. Not now, at least. He had told me he didn’t want a long-distance relationship, and hadn’t done anything to try to stay in touch with me, so why should I be the one to go to him? I was out of school for the holidays but I had a few shows lined up with Sara and other things going on.

  “You know I might see him,” she added, as if saying that would make me drop everything and get a plane ticket.

  “Well, give him my regards,” I replied, shrugging.

  “That’s it? You don’t have anything else to say? Something you want to give him? A letter…anything?”

  “What am I supposed to say? Thanks for the money, it was great working with you, I hope the album does well?”

  “Come on! Thanks for the money? You’re unbelievable! Do you really think that’s what he wants to hear? I’m sure he still has it bad for you!”

  “How do you know? I haven’t talked to him in six months. He didn’t want to stay in touch! I’m trying to respect his decision!”

  “Fine,” she replied, huffing.

  “I’ll miss you boo,” I told her with a smirk, trying to soften her.

  “I’ll miss you too,” she replied, giving me a smile.

  “What’s this?” I asked as I eyed the gigantic present in front of my eyes. Which was clearly shaped like a guitar. No amount of wrapping paper could hide its shape.

  “A Christmas present,” Johan said, a huge grin spread across his face, his cheeks bright red. He looked like a kid who had gotten caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. Helga gave her husband a loving look, while he handed me the instrument.

  “Open het, open het!” Lieke said enthusiastically.

  I looked at Helga and Johan in shock.

  “Thank you, but I can’t accept this. It’s too much.”

  “Actually,” Johan said, “it’s not from us.”

  I frowned, a bit confused. “Who’s it from? Ally?” I couldn’t imagine that brat could be so thoughtful. Maybe I was wrong about her after all. Maybe she loved me more than she led me to believe.

  Johan seemed to have a hard time finding the right words to say. Helga cut him off and told me, “It’s from Lou.”

  My face fell and I almost let go of the guitar. When I realized Johan was trying to catch it, I snapped back and scrambled to get a grip on it again.

  I sat down on the couch with the guitar across my lap. It was a really big one, twice the size of my cheap acoustic one. I started tearing the paper off, absent-mindedly.

  I had gotten glimpses of which one it was while I was removing the wrapping paper, but when I was done, I could finally see the guitar in its glory. And she was a beauty.

  It was a white Gretsch G5422. The same guitar I played in Italy in the recording studio. I might have fallen in love with it while I was there. I might have said things like “this is the guitar I need to have.” And he remembered. I couldn’t possibly think of keeping it, it was too big of a present. I knew for a fact that the price of this guitar was almost a thousand dollars. I saw the sticker from the local music store and told myself I was going to return it to Ian. But maybe I could just play it until I had to take it back. The store was going to be closed tomorrow for Boxing Day anyway; I might as well enjoy a whole day with it. I completely forgot about the family who surrounded me, their eyes glued on me. I tuned the guitar, and when I started strumming the notes, the sound was so beautiful, a huge grin broke on my face. The memories came back all together, like a flood, and I bit my lip, trying to hold back the tears. Goddammit, Lou Rivers.

  “I’m going to make you pay for this international phone call.”

  “I see, you’re just as cheerful at Christmas too. I’m calling your Skype account, you moron!”

  “Ahhh, okay then. I’m not going to charge you.”

  “You better not. Merry Christmas, by the way, you brat.”

  “Merry Christmas to you, kid. How are you doing?”

  “Okay, I’m doing okay. Listen...I won’t keep you...just...”

  “What?”

  “When you see Lou, tell him he can’t do this…”

  “Can’t do what?”

  “He can’t give me this kind of present.”

  “What present?”

  “The guitar. Don’t act like you don’t know anything. I know for a fact yo
u do.”

  “FINE,” she said, trying to sound irritated. “I’ll tell him.”

  “Okay, good.” That was easy. Almost too easy.

  “Actually, hold on a second.” I knew it had been too easy.

  “Okay,” I replied absent-mindedly. I could hear chatting in the background. Maybe she was going somewhere quieter. She probably still felt like she had to lecture me.

  “Hey! How are you?” The deep, sexy voice with a slight southern drawl on the other end was certainly not what I expected. Shit. My first impulse was to hang up the phone immediately, but that would have been incredibly stupid. Plus, I couldn’t bring myself to move at all. I was glued to the spot.

  “Ella, can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” I exhaled a deep breath. It came out of my mouth involuntarily. “Yes, I can hear you Lou.”

  “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas to you too.” It was strange talking to him on the phone. We had only spoken a couple of times when he was in Italy and I was still in Amsterdam. I had never gotten used to hearing his voice on the phone. It sounded even sexier than I remembered. How was it possible?

  “Did you like your present?” he asked.

  “Lou...it’s beautiful. Gorgeous, really. How could I not like it?” I said, talking way too fast because of my nerves. I exhaled again, trying to slow down the words. “You know I loved playing that one in Italy…it’s a very generous present. One I can’t accept.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Why wouldn’t you be able to accept it?”

  “Because,” I said, pausing and trying to find the right words. Only harsh ones came to mind. Because we’re not together, because we’re nothing. We were nothing, but he was still so important to me. He always would be. How long had it been since I had spoken to him last? Six months, at least. And yet, my stomach was in knots, and I could barely speak. We were nothing, but he was everything to me.

  “I can’t accept the guitar,” I added.

  “Yes, you can. Besides you need it, I know you do.”

  What else do you know? I wanted to ask him, but instead I said, “You’re lucky it’s very heavy and it’s too expensive to send back. And Ian refuses to take it back. Believe me, I tried.”

  “Good. Please keep it. I want you to have it,” he pleaded.

  “Okay. Thank you for your generous gift. I’ll try to write some decent songs with it.”

  “Decent? I’m sure you’ll write great songs with it!” he laughed and my heart got all warm and fuzzy. I could just picture his expression, his smile bright, reaching all the way to his eyes. His head probably rocked back, the grin transforming in a soft laughter, his eyes closed and his nose crinkled in the most adorable way.

  There was a brief moment of silence between us; as I tried to think of something that would be acceptable and safe to say, he said, “I miss you.”

  I remained silent. What was I supposed to say? It wasn’t that I didn’t miss him, but things hadn’t changed since we parted.

  “I miss you too,” I said, trying to fill the awkward silence, “but nothing’s changed.”

  “I know.” He sounded sad, resigned. I knew I was about to just lose my pretend self-control and tell him something stupid, like I never stopped thinking about you, you’re all I want, please come back to me, but thankfully he spoke again and said,

  “Listen, do well in school, okay? I mean, I’m sure you will…I guess what I meant was...good luck with school.”

  “Thank you. And good luck to you as well with the album.” Look at us. So polite. So fake. Both of us a mess.

  “Thank you.”

  “Goodbye, Lou.”

  “Goodbye, Ella.”

  Ally still hadn’t gotten back to Amsterdam by the time I resumed school. I was dying to know details about her vacation and dying to hear about Lou. I would have never asked her, of course, but I knew she would have spilled the beans even without me asking.

  My classes were exciting, and I found myself happier every day. I was so in love with what I was doing and what I was learning. It was a whole world I was discovering little by little. That didn’t mean that I had more confidence in myself as a musician or songwriter.

  In fact, quite often I thought I should just give up. It wasn’t uncommon that I would think I was too inexperienced and less talented than my artsy classmates.

  However, every single time I started doubting myself, another voice rose stronger in my head telling me I couldn’t stop. The voice was stubborn and relentless; it told me to just go for it, to stop constantly worrying about failing. The voice inside of me insisted that this was it, and I just had to have faith in myself; I was meant to do this and in time others would see it too. But I couldn’t let doubt take control of my dream. My dream. It seemed crazy to even think of it that way. Months ago I had absolutely no idea of what I wanted to do with my life. Now, I couldn’t think of anything else. I had to do this. The thought of not trying, for fear of failing, felt like a stab to my heart.

  I couldn’t do this to myself. I had to try.

  I was focused on school, but that didn’t mean that I wouldn’t think about Lou pretty much every other moment. I tried really hard to be the best version of myself even when I felt sad and I missed him like crazy. Some days it took virtually nothing to bring me down. The door would open and the bell would ring, I’d lift my eyes to see who was coming in, and a few times, I thought I saw him. I was wrong each one of those times. They were just guys that remotely had his features, but it would always be little details—the hair, the face or his build—that would catch my eye. It didn’t happen that often, but I still felt utterly stupid when it did. I’d go to the alleyway behind the pancake house, lean against the wall and take a deep breath. The fresh air would usually help me, until I started thinking about all the times we kissed on the street.

  Ally was all bubbly when she got back from the U.S.

  She was so much more cheerful than usual. It was obvious how much she really needed the vacation. She must have enjoyed her time with her family because there was a different light in her eyes.

  She brought each one of us presents and she even brought Lieke and me matching scarfs her mom had knitted for us. We had gone back up to my room when she told me she had something else to give me.

  “Another present? Didn’t you go a little overboard?” I asked her, surprised.

  “Well, this one was free,” she said, handing me a copy of Nashville’s Voice, a local music gazette. I found myself staring at Lou’s face.

  “Take it,” she encouraged me, a certain unfamiliar softness in her voice.

  I reached out for the magazine, but I was in such a daze, I let it fall on the floor. I kept staring at it from where it landed. I couldn’t move a muscle.

  Ally picked up the magazine from the floor and as I sat down on my bed, she brought it to me, placing it on my knees, right under my eyes. She wasn’t having it. She probably would have shoved the magazine in my face, if that’s what it took. I exhaled a cleansing breath and took it in my hands. I stared at his beautiful face, looking back at me in muted colors. Even in print, he was still so fucking gorgeous.

  “Goddammit, this photo!” I shouted

  “What about it?” she asked innocently.

  “He’s so fucking beautiful…I miss him so much…” my voice wavered and tears started filling my eyes. It was the first time I had said anything like that out loud. It felt liberating.

  A teardrop fell on the magazine, dampening part of his beautiful face. I cringed, and dropped the magazine on my bed, keeping it at a distance from my salty drops, unable to take my eyes off his picture. More tears clouded my vision and when I started sobbing, I felt Ally’s arms wrap around me.

  “Shhhh,” she cooed. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I thought you’d enjoy reading the interview. I’ll blame it on him. It’s his fault. He really needs to cut it out with the smoldering look.”

  I st
arted laughing then, as the tears kept falling, streaming down my face. It took fifteen more minutes and several Kleenexes to calm myself down, but eventually I stopped. We sat on my bed while Ally kept stroking my back, comforting me.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” she said.

  I was shocked by my own reaction. I had been hit by an avalanche of feelings that I tried to repress for seven months. My heart was a flooding river that couldn’t hold back anymore. River. How ironic.

  “Come on,” Ally said. “Let’s read the interview, that’s the good part.”

  “I don’t want to read it,” I objected, still sniffling.

  “Yes, you do. If you don’t want to read it, I’ll read it to you, so we can try to decipher each one of his answers. Isn’t this what girlfriends are for?” she asked, smiling at me reassuringly.

  CHAPTER 26

  A month passed. I was struggling to keep up with my busy schedule, but I had never been better and now I was actually moving in the direction I wanted to. Things were looking up; it was only a matter of time. I hadn’t had any more breakdowns since that night with Ally…I finally understood why you’d always hear people say it wasn’t a good thing to hold it all in. Letting go had felt really good, and at least for a little while I thought I was in control of my emotions more.

  That, unfortunately, was bound to change soon. I got closer and eyed the small padded envelope like it was something bound to hurt me. It wasn’t hard to figure out what could be inside the small parcel Helga placed on the bar in front of me. My parents never sent me anything. We spoke regularly, they kept asking me if I needed anything, and my answer was always the same. My mother was not the type to send care packages and this envelope was too small to be anything else than what I suspected. Nope, this envelope came from a different state, I was sure of it. I didn’t even need to check the postage stamp. On top of everything else, Helga’s face was a dead giveaway. She looked so cautious, her movements were slow, as if she was expecting me to lose it at any moment.