As Long as You Love Me

by Ann Aguirre

  “I’m glad you said it.” She offered a half smile and raised her wineglass. “But you’re into your third semester here, making excellent grades, still working at the dealership, no problems living on your own. That’s fantastic.”

  I sighed. “I don’t need you to pat me on the head, Mom. Verbally or otherwise.”

  “Then why are we having this serious talk?”

  Leaning over, I whispered, “Because the people at our table are boring?”

  She glanced around and conceded with a shrug. Before I could say anything else, the guest of honor appeared onstage and gave a rambling speech of thanks, wherein he reminisced about the old days and asked four times for someone named Connie. Then they gave him a gold watch and helped him down the steps.

  “Huh. And to think Stuart missed all of this,” I muttered.

  Dinner was decent, though, and we were out of the hall by nine. Mom dropped me off at the house—with Rob gone, I still didn’t think of it as home. Avery was still up, watching TV with Happy.

  “Have you finished carousing already?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. Is there rabble to rouse?”

  “Not much, even on Saturday night. You grew up here, you know the drill.”

  Nodding, I collapsed on the couch and kicked off my heels. “I did okay. No flares, no sweating, no nervous vomiting or heart palpitations. You?”

  “No urges to trash cars or punch men who ogle me.” We fist-bumped, and then I got up.

  “I’m making hot chocolate. Want some?”

  “Sure.” Avery had gained a little weight since we started living together, maybe ten pounds. Before, she didn’t eat as a silent protest to her father, but since he’d rather have a compliant, starving daughter, he didn’t care about her food issues. She was working on that with Dr. Reid, too.

  To celebrate another good day, I put marshmallows in the cocoa. We toasted and I sipped at it, watching the last of whatever movie this was, something violent, my definite preference. To look at me, you’d think I loved girlie films, but give me action or sci-fi any day. Once it ended, I stood up and stretched.

  “Has Happy gone out recently?”

  She considered, then shook her head. “Not since five or so.”

  “I’m on it.”

  “Thanks. I’ll do the dishes in the morning.”

  Calling the dog, I jogged to the kitchen and went out the back door, luring her with a treat since it was pretty brisk out. I wished I’d jammed my feet in some shoes as I hopped back and forth, waiting for Happy to do her business. Afterward, I fed her the biscuit and rushed back in.

  “Okay, I’m off to kill stuff for an hour or so before bed.”

  She raised a brow. “With anyone else, those words would alarm me. ’Night, Lauren.”

  I flicked a hand at her as I went up the stairs. Happy followed me. Though she liked Avery, she was still my dog. She cocked her head at me as I hesitated in the threshold of the bedroom I’d shared with Rob. Months later, and it still hit me every time, like a punch in the sternum, that he was gone and not coming back, that I’d made it happen.

  “I miss him,” I whispered to her as I closed the door behind us. “What about you?”

  She sighed at me like that was a dumb question. A non-dog-lover would question how I anthropomorphized her, but I swore she understood me. Happy leaped up on Rob’s side and turned around three times before settling down. The sheets had been changed and washed a hundred times, more maybe, but I wished I had the luxury of crawling into bed and breathing him in. I’d never admit how long I waited before swapping the linens after he left; now there was only Happy and me scenting the bed covers, along with touches of detergent and fabric softener.

  I put on my pajamas and sat down at my computer. There were always class projects, code to write, barbs to respond to from buttheads in my data structures class. But I backslid a little and checked for Rob Conrad Google Alerts before deciding what game to play or doing something more productive, like finishing a paper for IT ethics.

  There wasn’t a ton about him; he wasn’t an A-list celebrity, but I found a new photo posted to a Toronto-centric site. Headline: Internet Sensation Rob Conrad Enjoys Time Off with a Lucky Lady. Is There Romance Behind the Scenes at Hot Property?

  My chest ached as I read a short blurb about the show, then scrolled down to see him waving to the press with Annette Caldwell beside him. The picture was dated two days ago, and the caption offered the usual crap about him being really sweet to his fans. I had noticed that they were shooting promos for the show and posting them to Rob’s channel, professional quality unlike the vids we made, but these were still called At Home with Rob. His idea, not mine. I touched the screen lightly, closing the browser tab, but it felt like goodbye, as well.

  For an hour or so, I stabbed monsters online, but my heart wasn’t in it, so I brushed my teeth and went to bed. Some nights it was hard to fall asleep for thinking about Rob, wondering what he was doing, if he was happy. I’d really like the answer to the last question, but I couldn’t become the lame girl obsessively grilling Nadia for updates. She told me what she knew as she learned it, and it would have to be enough.

  The following Monday, I found a package waiting when I got home from work, left by the UPS man. I took it inside and set it down, pausing to pet the dog, who was so excited to see me. Then I got a knife and cut the box open. Inside, I discovered my three binders, fantasies I’d written about Rob when he was like a prince from a story to me, not a real person at all. Now I knew better; I knew what he liked the best in bed and how to hurt him the most. Though I searched, there was no note.

  That’s the message right there.

  Tears trickled down my cheeks as I hugged the binders. I’d lied when I said I had no use for these, so I was glad to have them back, even if it meant Rob didn’t want them—that he skimmed the stupidity, laughed and put it aside, moved on to more important things. There would always be room in my heart for dreams of him, wrapped around the memories that chased me in and out of each day like weary ghosts, reminding me of how sweet life was before. Yet even with the pain, I couldn’t regret my decision.

  It had been a while since I’d wept over Rob, but today I couldn’t help it. Happy eyed me and then nudged against my legs, so I knelt down to hug her. Then I took the past upstairs and tucked it on the bookshelves Rob had built. Everything in this room had his imprint all over it, and if I had the right, I’d ship him the furniture, start fresh. I couldn’t live here forever; I knew that, but I couldn’t bring myself to discuss looking for a new place with Avery because it would mean contacting Rob, other than the check I mailed once a month. Damn, even the utilities were still in his name... Trusting of him. If I were an asshole, I could stop paying the bills and ruin his credit. Which I’d never do—and maybe deep down, he knew that. Regardless, I had to make a move; things couldn’t continue like this.

  I just couldn’t decide what to do.

  But there was one step I could take immediately. I got on my laptop and pinged Nadia, stifling a burst of glee when she answered right away. “Hey! Sorry we couldn’t make it for Christmas. I miss you. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. No. Well, gainfully employed anyway.” Still paying Rob’s mortgage, with Avery’s help. That seemed so strange and backward.

  “Have you talked to Rob?”

  “Nope. How’s Mr. Hot Ginger?”

  “I’m right here, I can hear you,” a male voice called.

  A high-pitched question: “Why does she call you that?”

  “Crap, did I call at a bad time?”

  “We’re trying to get Sam ready for bed. Can I get back to you?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  Even if she was busy, at least I’d made the effort. I could feel good about that. This felt like closing the circle, trying to be a good
friend again. In that same vein, I tried Angus next, but he didn’t show online. I left a text message on his Skype account, then stared at Max’s icon. Despite the awkwardness between us, I hadn’t deleted him.

  And he’s signed on.

  Taking a deep breath, I requested a chat, then I bit my lip, wondering if he even wanted to break the long silence. After thirty interminable seconds, the video connection went live, revealing a dark-haired guy with eyes so dark you could hardly see the pupils. He was lean and handsome in a scruffy sort of way. Just now, he had on sweats and a T-shirt, shaggy hair tumbling into his eyes.

  “Long time, no talk,” he said.

  “Yeah.” I took a breath. “I know it’s been a long time, and maybe you don’t think about it anymore, but...really, I just want to say sorry.”

  “About what?” Cool, almost icy. I couldn’t tell if he’d really forgotten.

  “That night. Everything, actually. I just want you to know that it really was me, not you. I was kind of...broken.”

  “Are you better now?” he asked.

  “Getting there.”

  “That’s all I need to know, then.”

  We talked a little more, mostly about Nadia and Angus. When he said he had to go, I felt okay. At least Max wasn’t one of my regrets anymore.

  * * *

  The second week in March, Krista called us over to meet her man. Since Kenji had come home, she’d skipped the last couple of girls’ nights. They had a lot of lost time to make up for. For the moment, they were all living with her mom, but I didn’t see that situation lasting long. Krista and Kenji had to be eager for some privacy—well, as much as Naomi allowed.

  She had dinner ready when Avery and I got there. Jill was the last to arrive. Kenji was a good-looking guy with nice hair, a little on the short side, and he obviously adored Krista and Naomi. The whole time we were at the house, he never put his daughter down, not when she had to be changed, when she spit up on him, or when she smacked him in the nose. His smile never faltered.

  “So what’s your secret?” I asked, once the table had been cleared and Naomi was napping in Kenji’s arms.

  “To what?” Krista sat against her fiancé’s side, one hand possessive on his thigh.

  “Making it work. Everyone I’ve ever talked to who tried long-distance said it was horrible and things fell apart pretty fast.”

  Jillian perked up. She was still seeing Ben, who wasn’t around nearly as much as she’d like. Traveling to sell office equipment wasn’t remotely the same as deployment, but I could tell she was interested in the answer. “I could use some tips for sure.”

  Thoughtful, Krista tipped her head for a few seconds, glancing at Kenji, who leaned over to kiss her forehead. Then she answered, “It was awful when I’d hear reports of artillery or IEDs near his posting. And there’s no question that sometimes I got so lonely, I’d wonder if this could possibly be worth it. Then I’d imagine life without him and the answer was always yes.”

  “That’s it?” Jillian asked.

  Krista raised a brow. “It’s not enough?”

  “For me, it helped to envision the ending,” Kenji explained. “No matter how dark it got over there, I knew she was waiting. There were a few times I might not have made it out if not for her. I wouldn’t have had reason to move so fast or push so hard.”

  Avery tapped Jillian on the arm. “So the real question is, do you love Ben enough to wait however long it takes before you guys can be together, enough to fight if things get tough?”

  My breath caught, because she might as well be asking me that question. How much do I love Rob? That much? Or not enough. Like I said that terrible day.

  Jillian seemed frozen, indecision playing across her round face. “I’m not sure. We have fun together, but...I don’t feel like we have what you and Kenji do.” She cursed softly. “I think I have to break up with him.”

  Kenji tilted his head against the couch. “Are your friends always this depressing, baby?”

  I smirked. “Sometimes we do body shots off each other and try to see how many phone numbers we can get in a night. You’d be surprised at how many guys were into Krista’s midriff.”

  “Lauren! God, don’t tell him that.”

  He aimed a teasing smile her way. “Why, because it’s true? From the pictures I’ve seen, you were pretty hot with that baby belly.”

  “That’s our cue to leave,” Avery said, standing up.

  Jillian nodded. “Thanks for the advice. I’ll let you know how it goes. Nice meeting you, Kenji. We’ve all heard so much about you that it seems like we know you already.”

  “All good?” he asked.

  “Definitely. Dinner was delicious. See you soon, guys.”

  Avery was driving tonight, so I got in her Bug, waving to Jillian as we drove off. Evidently rooming together had given her some kind of Lauren-dar, however, because before we were halfway home, she said, “Spill it.”

  “What?”

  “You got this deer-in-headlights look when Kenji and Krista were being adorable.”

  “I was just thinking, that’s all.”

  “About what?”

  “Rob,” I admitted.

  “Alert the media.”

  “You asked. Do you want to hear this or not?” The car was quiet for too long. “Hey!”

  She teased, “I’m thinking. Fine, tell me your deep thoughts.”

  “Basically, just that I’m sure. I love Rob that much. My life will always be better with him in it. He’s worth waiting for, worth fighting for. I had to...I dunno, fix myself a bit before I could be a real partner, but I’m closer now. I’m better.”

  “Are you trying to convince me?” Avery asked.

  “No, I mean it. I think he needed to take this shot on his own, see how well he did without me backing him up. Not sure if you noticed when you were together, but he’s not the most confident guy.”

  “I did,” she said softly. “I took advantage of it. And I should apologize.”

  “You and me both. But the thing is, maybe he’s done. He sent back some things that belonged to me. It might’ve been a sign, letting me know that it’s definitely over.” Or maybe it meant something else entirely, though for the life of me, I had no idea what.

  “Do you care? You already said you’ll fight for him. So go, kick ass and take names. Hold your head high, give him hell. Don’t stop ’til you get enough.”

  “Are you just quoting random song lyrics at me now?”

  “Maybe. I’m bad at this encouragement stuff, huh?”

  I shook my head. “In fact, it’s just the boot in the ass I need to go get my man.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  First thing the next morning, I called Nadia. For once, the time difference served me well, so I didn’t wake her up. She answered on the second ring. At this hour, she was probably at the day care center. “Everything okay? You never call me when I’m at work.”

  “Your parents are fine. I’m about to ask you a favor, and I’ll understand if you say no. But if you do, I’ll find another way—”

  “Tell me what you need, LB.” When she cut into my babble, she sounded amused.

  “Rob’s address.”

  “That’s easy. I’m forwarding his contact info to your phone.”

  “Wow.” I’d geared up to really beg her in case she didn’t want to get in the middle of our drama. “Thank you.”

  “I’m glad you’re finally calling him. The two of you are driving me nuts.”

  “Huh?”

  “You think I haven’t noticed the way you perk up when I mention him? And Rob’s the same. I talked to him a week ago, and he was all supercasual. ‘So how’s Lauren doing? Who’s she dating these days?’ I told him I didn’t know because I figured you’d kill me
if I said you’re still as hung up on him now as you were six months ago. I still don’t get it, by the way. But I hope you can patch things up.”

  My phone pinged with Rob’s new cell number and his home address. His email was the same. But I only needed to know where he lived because this wasn’t the kind of conversation we could have online or even on the phone. I had to talk to him, face-to-face, and find out if there was any hope of fixing the broken between us.

  “Me, too.”

  “Good luck,” she said. “I have to go before these hooligans duct tape my assistant to something.”

  When I hung up and turned around, I spotted Avery perched at the foot of the stairs. “When are you leaving?”

  I liked that she didn’t secretly expect me to chicken out. “I have to put in for vacation days. I’m not calling in sick. I have to do it right.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I hope he forgives you.”

  “Me, too.”

  After taking care of Happy, I got ready and went to work a bit early. The office staff was already on site, so I asked for the paperwork and filled it out during my lunch hour. According to the documentation, all such requests required a week to process, so I wouldn’t be getting my three-day weekend this pay period. But they approved it for the following Friday. Afterward, I was so wound up that I probably scared the prospective customers with my too-wide smile.

  Finally, five o’clock rolled around, and I zipped home. Happy was glad to see me; I fed her and opened a can of soup, then I went upstairs to make travel arrangements. Flying alone was the kind of thing that could send me straight into a panic attack before, but as I bought the tickets, I breathed through it. Why are you so scared? Is it really the flying? When I analyzed the tightness in my chest, the fear came from the prospect of facing Rob. It wasn’t that I was afraid to grovel, more that despite what Nadia said, he wouldn’t care how I felt or what I had to say.

  Unpacking the emotions gave them less power over me, though. I worked through the feelings as Dr. Reid had taught me, and then stowed them in their proper place. For the next week, I kept busy. I worked extra hard on my data structures project and I turned in my ethics paper early. By Thursday night, I was packed and ready.