Page 7 of All That Remains
"Oh yeah?"
"Emailed the year he left. He totally ignored it. Changed his mobile number and moved countries. Never reached out again."
"Maybe his email changed too?"
"Mate, c'mon. People don't just change their bloody emails—"
"Some people might."
"Yeah, some people might," John cosigned, reading something on his phone. I slapped it out of his hand and he barked with laughter.
4
After stopping for ice cream to cheer me up, we made our way to Starbucks for our fix. I climbed from the truck and stretched, shaking my legs out to expel what was left of my frustration. John and Jen had gone inside to order, but I stayed behind, hoping to reset. I clocked everything—the streetlights, the pedestrians, the cars, the crows, the toes of my boots, which were definitely scuffed. The moon was quartered. It was oddly warm for February, and I could smell the garbage wafting from behind the building.
Traffic piled up just outside the parking lot. There was a man on a bike with grocery bags tied to the handlebars, weaving in and out of the lanes, threatening to tip over any moment. Horns blared for several minutes straight as he forced them to miss a green signal. I pictured what it would be like if he fell. Bags bursting, crumpled soda cans spraying across the pavement.
"Rafe..." someone called. I froze. A few moments later they called again, then let out a strident whistle to draw my attention. I turned warily, finding nothing except two other parked cars. John and Jen were still inside, so I dipped my head back into the truck to see if the driver was speaking. Except, he was facing forward and toying with his phone. Oblivious to my existence.
The quiet, cautious call came again. When the voice finally dawned on me, my heart shot into my throat. I glanced over the roof of a sedan and found none other than Roman Jacobs.He was peering from the half-open window of an S-Class Benz. When our eyes met, he smiled, redeeming the blunt detachment of our earlier interaction. Hurdling me into the past like a runaway freight train.
I hurried around the car that barricaded us, then stopped. He was alone. His manager must've been inside with mine. The driver was absent as well. In the reflective tint of the pitch-dark windows, I looked deranged and ready to bolt. Proper freaked out.
"Rome…” I breathed.
“Hey...”
I was unconvinced he was real. He’d hardly changed, yet everything had taken on a luster of newness that couldn’t be contended. The cheekbones were as prominent as I remembered. The jawline jutting. The lips sensuous and full. Hard, dark eyes masculinized the exquisite features.
The door opened. There was a throaty: "C’mere…" He scooted aside and I instinctively plopped down beside him. The seat was warm where he'd sat. The air smelled divine. The composite—Axe, freshly lit cigarettes,Dolce and GabbanaLight Blue. Maybe a little hair-gel too.
To my surprise he grabbed me. I fell into him out of habit—squeezing him harder than I intended. I could feel his ribs against my arms. Sensed the heat along his back where it had lain against the seat.
"Mate..." I exhaled, my deep-chested voice filling the car. "How long's it been?" As if I didn't know.
"Too long. Fuck…it’s been a minute, hasn’t it?"
He took something out of his pocket and set it on the seat. Despite the shadows, I made out a silver lighter. He was probably fishing for a smoke. The rest of my assessment revealed he’d gotten ready in the car. There was a change of shoes nearby, a can of hairspray, and a handheld mirror. Thewistful, woozy melodies of Nick Drake’sPink Moonfilled the car. I'd heard the album a hundred times in his company.
"Twice in one night?"
"Tell me about it. What're the odds?" he grinned. His undulant Yorkshire accent only strengthened with time. "You look amayzin’, bro."
"Well, you just look alright. Barely decent." We laughed.
"So uh...heard you let it go?" I think he meant the band.
"You mean the band?"
"Yeah, I meant the band."
"Yeah, we let it go."
“They fight you on it?”
“’Course. But…it wasn’t the same anymore. Couldn’t keep pretending.”
"You okay?"
