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Vish doesn’t come home.
Shona waits and waits. She lies on the floor, stays there when Aine clambers up to her feet and into the kitchen, rambling something at a frequency Shona tunes out. She doesn’t move except to check for any missed messages and to see her if her battery is dead. Her eyes slip over the time on her lockscreen. It doesn’t matter. She hasn’t changed the picture in a long time. it’s still an overtly green painting of a forest, a rocky river bisecting the middle. She doesn’t remember who painted it. She knows that Charlotte’s lockscreen is a picture she took from the ferry between Sweden and Finland, a sunset blurring into blue water. She knows that Vish’s lockscreen is a picture of them, smiling at some finance event Shona can’t differentiate from the rest.
Shona turns her phone back over. Aine is quiet in the kitchen. She pictures Vish listening to the message right before he boarded and turning around to leave instead. The relief of it - being let off the hook, Vish receiving the facts and calling the time of death of their relationship would be almost sweeter, but then the guilt slips back in, and Shona’s porous, overfilling but never full.
Shona checks again. There’s nothing but Vish should be home by now or at least in a car, unless he didn’t get on the flight. She can hear Aine, the purposeful whisper that doesn’t quite reach and her footsteps against the floor. She doesn’t know what Aine could possibly say, but Shona wants her back, wants to tell her the truth without feeling like she can’t put it into words, wants her sister to be her sister again.
Shona stares at her background picture. Aine would remember the artist. Charlotte recognized it too, but Shona still doesn’t know. She thinks she saw it first at a museum Vish brought her to, back when they still went on dates with actual plans. She swipes up and taps in her password. Her phone is still open to Vish’s messages, the double check marks filled in. The picture of him sent right before makes her want to cry. She switches to her thread with Charlotte. The last message is confirmation of someone’s phone number, meaningless. They never texted much. Shona isn’t sure if she was too aware of not leaving a path to follow, an easy way to find proof of what she did, what she let herself have, what she forced herself to give up. She never worried about Vish finding out. It’d be hard to explain to Aine, if Shona can’t even explain it to herself, past the simple configuration of the truth: she met Charlotte and fell in love.
If the change had been seismic, registrable, immediate, Shona would’ve shut it down. But Charlotte slotted into her life easier than she expected. There was no before Charlotte and after Charlotte, no obvious knick in her armour that fractured her into a new self. There wasn’t an awakening or an obvious shift. It made her think about the boiling frog syndrome, she wasn’t dropped into hot water and shocked awake. She stepped in slowly and before she knew it, everything was boiling around her. She didn’t expect Charlotte to kiss her. She didn’t expect to kiss her back, didn’t expect to go home with her. She didn’t expect to wake up first, Charlotte on her back with her face turned towards her, and not want to run. She didn’t expect to stay, strongly enough she didn’t even consider leaving. She hates being caught off guard. She can track the pattern of her life, the similar beats of her not-knowing, the expectation that she’s on the same page when she hasn’t even opened the book. She’s good at catching up. She met Vish’s friends at a pub and found out they were dating when he introduced her as his girlfriend. It felt fitting but not quite right, but she didn’t have enough arguments against it. The idea wasn’t repulsive; it felt like something to grow into. The problem is now, when there’s a ring on her finger and a suit picked out to wear at the altar, the only reasons she has against being with Charlotte are what she’s already agreed to, a future promised to Vish.
Shona plays the message meant for Vish first. She doesn’t recognize her own voice, can’t track the rationale behind everything she said. It was a rushed decision to call him, safe in the knowledge that he couldn’t pick up, that he’d listen alone and wouldn’t be able to see her face, less effort to not give away anything. It all comes back to guilt, if she’s honest with herself, if she can look in like a neutral observer, a different way to keep feelings out of it.
I can’t wait to marry you and - a long pause. Too long, clear now, looking back. She isn’t sure how she felt in the moment. It’s too early to dissect it, to break each part into fragile pieces. She couldn’t give him the truth, so she gave him something else, a modicum of hope, like softening him up with a promise of effort, a doctor’s appointment and the idea of kids, would make everything afterwards easier to swallow.
It won’t be enough. Shona knows Vish well enough to know it isn’t true, that there’s a part of him that deeply believes they want the same thing. He wants to marry her. He wants to make her happy but he doesn’t know how and Shona can’t blame him, if she can’t figure it out herself. She hears herself tell him she loves him, very very much, and believes in it too. She does love him, but there’s a difference between how they love each other, and it never felt like a problem before. Another pause. A shaky, well, let’s see, and a realization that what Vish envisions isn’t something she can give him, isn’t something she wants to.
Shona plays the next message before she can stop herself. The wound isn’t even a scar yet, hasn’t been stitched back together, but she doesn’t feel like stopping the bleeding. She knew she was being a coward, but it was easier and it’s what she needed, like admitting how she failed would count for something. She could hide behind a rambling message, could define what they did as an affair, a negative connotation, a mistake, like it was what Charlotte was agreeing to in the first place.
Sometimes, when Shona thought about it, when she was drowning in blame and unsure of who to reach to, it was easier to twist the fault onto Charlotte, who knew about the proposal, but kissed her anyway, or Vish, who treated the engagement as forming them into one, what was his became hers, from his induction top stove to wanting kids. It never stuck. Shona couldn’t untangle herself from the centre of the mess, everything unravelled from her and back. She doesn’t know how to unsnarl herself or anyone else. She can say, we broke each other’s hearts, and mean it, like it’s Charlotte’s fault they found each other too late, Charlotte’s fault that in Shona’s head Charlotte had the least amount of attachment points to her life. Shona could cut the strings and Charlotte would be the only other person to feel the loss. Vish knew Aine and sent her Mammy flowers for her birthday. Vish gave her a ring and a promise and didn’t realize how it felt like walking into a trap, a twisted sort of fate Shona was stuck following. Charlotte was internal, impossible to explain, a feeling she wanted to keep safe and hidden. Sometimes it was like she wasn't even real, easily spoiled if Shona wasn’t careful. All of it was unfair and Shona can admit it now, when Charlotte is moving on with women who send her flowers with their names on the cards and pick her up for lunch. She can be bitter and spiteful about it, can stew in it and let it go, bringing it back up when she’s worried about her impending marriage and the only way it feels like a good idea is to remember that Charlotte’s already moved on.
The I love you is surprising. Shona remembers feeling like she’d done something right, like it was fitting that the first time she told Charlotte the truth was on a phone call she’d made waiting for the lift. It was a giddiness that surprised her and it’d been easy to pretend it was for their company, the rebuilt foundation of their relationship, instead of feeling like loving Charlotte could ever be simple. Charlotte was happy. Charlotte didn’t need her the same way Shona felt she did. Shona could be happy too and this way she gets both, Charlotte a constant in her life and her future with Vish back on track, a wedding her Mam can be pleased with, a sister who isn’t constantly on her mind.
“Shona,” Aine says. She looks taller, all of a sudden. Shona felt like she waited her entire life for Aine to surpass her, it felt wrong that she never did. “Are you in love with Charlotte?”
“What?” Shona asks. She sits up. The suit feels tighter, all of a sudden. Stupid. She doesn’t know if she was trying to make a point.
“You sent that message to Vish?” Aine asks.
Shona nods. Her brain is off-duty. She can accept that Aine heard the message, but can’t understand what she read into it.
“Shona,” Aine repeats.
“What?” Shona hisses. It’s cyclical, sometimes, how their relationship functions, except this time it’s broken off the curve. Shona is not the one meant to be under interrogation. Aine softens, like she knows this, like she’s just as uncomfortable as Shona is. Shona is supposed to have the answers. She’s the one who fills in the blanks, not the other way around, but Aine walks towards her and drops in front of her like they’re at camp and about to play a clapping game.
“What happened?” Aine asks.
“I don’t know,” Shona says and she doesn’t. The story hasn’t changed, not even now, with another ending scratched out. Vish won’t forgive her. The realization is creeping in like a door isn’t fully closed and the outside weather is brought in. Shona feels raw all over, the look on Aine’s face only serving to deepen the ache in her bones. She stands up. Her joints grind together and she winces. She takes the jacket off.
“You’ve seen Charlotte naked,” Aine says.
Shona knows it’s meant to be a joke, but Aine can’t pull off the physicality of it, her eyes are wide and she twists her fingers together.The concern is so obvious Shona doesn’t know how to react. She finds a hoodie and pulls it on. They hadn’t figured out the organization of the closet and it’s a mess of clothes everywhere.
“We had an affair,” Shona gets out. The word loses meaning every time she says it in the context of Charlotte. She can’t force it into fitting. “It’s over.”
Shona made her choice. In the end, she always thought she’d end up here. She never thought she’d be someone who got what she wanted, so she was careful about what she admitted to. A business was more clearcut. There was an objective target to reach, indisputable proof of success. She didn’t dream about falling in love. She never wanted to put her faith in anyone but herself. It’s the things she didn’t let herself have that really mattered, the line drawn between the openness of her feelings and what she put on the line.
Vish had nothing to hold over her, before. She liked the balance they struck, where she didn’t have to file through her own feelings. She could let him lead, let him bear his heart, and match her reactions. Vish didn’t know when it flipped, when Shona felt cracked open and overexposed, like it was obvious something had happened to her. But she’d wanted it and that was the hardest part to admit.
“Is it?” Aine pushes. She looks like she’s preparing to hold her ground. She stands up and closes in, blocks off the lane between the end of the bed and the wall.
“Yes,” Shona shrugs. Charlotte is probably still out with whatever woman picked her up from the office. She’d mentioned the date when they were with Julie, looking over her shoulders at their schedule for the next month. Shona couldn’t focus on anything with Charlotte that close again, was too hyper aware with the critical eye Julie kept on them.
“Shona,” Aine frowns. “But you -
There is no straightforward way to express how she feels about Charlotte. I love you, can’t mean the same thing when said to the wrong person, over the phone, in a message Charlotte will never hear. They’re friends, maybe. Business partners, on paper and in reality, but she hates the bluntness of it. There isn’t anything to read into.
“I love her,” Shona says, because she’s tired and none of it holds any significance anymore. She blew her chance. She’s right back at the start. It’s easier to say now, when she doesn’t have anything to lose. It feels deeply unfair, but she meets Aine’s eyes and folds her arms and feels stupidly defiant about all of it, “I think we could’ve been happy, together, but it didn’t make sense to me, so I broke up with her and she didn’t know about Vish until he sent her the stupid save the date card, and I can’t -” She slips into tears someway through it, but the words are out and Aine heard them. It isn’t as groundbreaking as she expected to be, even if it’s everything Aine probably already pieced together. But Aine hugs her. She doesn’t say anything else. She rubs Shona’s back like their Mam used to when they couldn’t sleep. She breathes slowly and deeply and Shona matches her like she did when they slept in the same room and Aine snored through the entire night.
“I don’t know what to tell him,” Shona says.
“Do you want to marry him?” Aine asks. She leans back. She tugs Shona out into the living room again. She pushes her onto the couch and Shona scowls at her. Aine throws a blanket at her head.
Shona shrugs. She doesn’t want to be alone, not if it isn’t her choice. She doesn’t know how to explain how she loved Vish for how simple it seemed, how she felt safe knowing he felt the same way about work, how low stakes the first year of their relationship was. She doesn’t know what would’ve happened if she hadn’t met Charlotte, if Charlotte hadn’t kissed her, if she would’ve figured it out on her own. But she can’t admit to what she figured out, not when there’s still a chance Vish is on her way, and he could forgive her.
“You don’t have to marry him,” Aine says.
“What other choice do I have?” Shona asks. She always thought she got too stuck in the grey area of everything. She didn’t like ambivalence, didn’t like not having a strong opinion. She needed something to stake herself onto and it always felt like Vish was the right choice, the one that made the most sense. Charlotte was the smallest portion of her life, it felt too good to be more than a flash in a pan. She couldn’t trust it. The risk calculations never favoured her, no matter how hard Shona tried to rig them.
“Don’t marry him?” Aine blinks. “I didn’t - I thought you would’ve said no.”
“You did?” Shona frowns.
“You barely wanted to move in with him,” Aine says. “And when he showed me the ring, I felt bad for him because I didn’t think you’d look at it.”
Shona didn’t technically say yes. She skipped that part, went straight to calling him her fiancé like it was somehow safer. She felt the urge to look at Charlotte when she did, some sort of proof that she might’ve figured it out on her own if Charlotte hadn’t taken the first step before she could.
“I love him,” Shona says.
“So?” Aine shrugs. “You love Charlotte and you broke her heart.”
“It’s not the same,” Shona says. It can’t be the same. She never compared the two of them directly, there was never a pro and con list of the actual relationships, but of what she’d have to give up by leaving them.
“You were happier,” Aine says. “When you were with her.”
“Maybe,” Shona says.
Vish asked her if she loved him, before he said he loved her, before she was even considering the idea of it. It was raining and they were sitting in traffic driving to his parents house. He was nervous. She wasn’t ready to meet them, but it wasn’t like she could open the door and jump out. She wasn’t great at first impressions. They hadn’t fought before they left but it was a silent agreement that they could push the fight until later, after, when they were home and the damage was done. He asked her when they were three exits away from the turn off. Do you love me? There’d only been one right answer and she nodded, said yes, watched him break into something cheerful. I love you too, then both hands back on the wheel, like he had all he needed. It took her a lot longer to actually say it out loud. She doesn’t actually remember when she did.
Shona knows that Charlotte was right, that she only started to think about the reality of their situation when Charlotte told her she was falling for her. It was terrifying, but more so in how happy Shona was to hear it than anything else. It made it real, made her want to question everything that came before. Charlotte saying she was falling in love with her felt like a weight lifted off her shoulders, not the other way around, but admitting to it felt like she was giving up everything else. She couldn’t escape the pressure of Vish, of Eileen, of Aine. Of Vish’s parents and all the wedding emails she hadn’t replied to. They already sent save the dates. She doesn’t feel like it’s something you can take back.
Shona doesn’t want to be in Vish’s house anymore. It never felt like hers. She’s unmoored, no apartment, no real home. Aine squeezes her hand. “Brad’s not home,” Aine says. “We can go to mine?”
-
Vish doesn’t reach out.
Shona knows he isn’t home, because she doesn’t get the stupid alert on her phone that a door has been open. She waits until Aine feels comfortable enough to leave her, sitting at her kitchen table, and half-assedly reading over e-mails. It’s a Sunday. There’s a list of things she should be doing, but she can’t make herself start anything. Aine leaves and promises Brad won’t be back until later.
Shona calls Vish. He picks up immediately but stays quiet. Shona sighs, “Hi.”
“Hi?” Vish repeats. “Shona, come on.”
Shona hears his voice and realizes she has no desire to fix things. “Where are you?” Shona asks. An apology would be meaningless, but she could read into where he ended up. If he’s home, she isn’t sure he’d tell his parents anything, not until he talked to her, but he’d be stewing, trying to figure out how both messages could be true. She doesn’t want to fail another person.
“Where are you?” Vish shoots back.
“Aine’s.”
Vish makes a noise Shona’s never heard from him. She struggles to picture him, she doesn’t have a solid idea of where he'd run to. He’d be too embarrassed to go home. She briefly considers the option of Gaya, but knows it would only make her feel better and not him.
“I’m still in New York,” Vish offers.
“Right,” Shona says. “And you - listened to the messages? Both of them?”
“Jesus, Sho,” Vish sighs. “You want to double check before admitting to anything?”
Shona stays quiet. Aine’s apartment is neater than she expected. There’s a bike leaning against the wall near the door and pictures of forests lined across from it. She twists a loose string from the blanket between her fingers.
“You know it’s funny,” Vish continues. “I really thought you were just scared by how much you loved me. I thought you loved me as much as I loved you, but you were - fucking Charlotte this entire time.”
“It wasn’t - we had an affair, it isn’t like -“
“You’re in love with her,” Vish says, blankly.
Shona doesn’t understand how everyone else figured it out so quickly. She wants to say he’s wrong, but he isn’t and it isn’t something to hold onto anymore. Shona will lose both of them. She’ll wonder what would’ve happened if she’d made her decision earlier, but Vish will move on, she knows that. He will find someone with the same five year plan he has, who can make him happier than she did. She doesn’t think he realized how unhappy their relationship made him too.
“I didn’t know that I was,” Shona offers.
“I was going to ask you to move with me,” Vish says. “Here.”
“You thought I would’ve said yes?” Shona asks. “Even before you knew that I -“ She stops. She hates the newfound clarity of how exhausted she was trying to be the person Vish wanted her to be. She hates that there’s a small part of her that wants to say yes, say she’ll have his kids and move to New York if he forgives her, like making herself miserable would dissolve the guilt.
“I thought you would before Charlotte,” Vish says. Shona bites back the urge to defend her. “And that was only because of your business together, I had no idea it was so personal.”
“Did you ever think about what I wanted?” Shona asks.
“You don’t get to ask that when you were cheating on me for months,” Vish says.
“I didn’t want to get engaged,” Shona says.
“You said yes!”
“Not really!” Shona snaps. She stands up. The apartment has an awful view, a boring mimic of a similar building across the street but she stares at it over the sink. “It didn’t feel like a choice.”
“I didn't realize you hated being with me,” Vish says.
“I didn't,” Shona frowns. She was neutral, more than anything else, worried she was unlovable. Vish was obvious with what he wanted, unafraid to admit to it, and used to getting it. She respected him for it, like the certainty he had about them, didn’t feel like she had to worry about the future. She should’ve known that Vish would want more eventually. Maybe it should’ve stood out more how little she ever invested into any of her relationships. She thinks about Charlotte and the business and how badly she needs her to stay and closes her eyes.
“It’s over, isn’t it?” Vish says.
“Yeah,” Shona says. There’s more she could say, but she isn’t sure she means any of it other than she feels bad about how easy it suddenly feels to let him go. “I’m sorry.”
“Right,” Vish nods. “Okay.” He waits, Shona can hear him breathing and the faded background noise, but she can’t say anything else. She repeats herself eventually, another I’m sorry that makes her want to cry.
Vish doesn’t say anything else. He hangs up. Shona tosses her phone onto the counter and sighs. There’s no tension left inside of her. She goes back to Aine’s room, shoves everything on her bed against the wall, and falls asleep.
-
Shona calls out sick on Monday. She shuts her phone down after sending the message and then borrows Brad’s truck to drive to Vish’s. She doesn’t understand why Vish wanted her to move in with him so badly if his next step was another country. She leaves the radio on the sports station Brad listens to as she drives. The traffic doesn’t piss her off like it normally does. She wonders if Charlotte reached out to check in with her, if she sent an email or texted her. She wouldn’t have called.
The door unlocks smoothly. Shona knows Vish will know she’s there. She finds the boxes where she left them and starts filling them back up. It doesn’t take as long as she expected. She makes herself coffee before she leaves and takes a picture of the bag to remember the specific type of bean. She sits outside and stares at the green stretch of land that is fading to nearly match the grey of the sky. She leaves the ring on the kitchen counter. She wonders how hot the stove would have to be to melt it.
Her body is starting to ache from lifting so many boxes into the car. She washes the mug and dries it too. She turns her phone back on and leaves it face down as she double checks the house.
There’s messages from Aine and Charlotte when she gets back. She silenced her email. She reads the one from Aine first, nothing urgent but it’s searching, making sure she’s okay. Shona doesn’t let it bug her this time. She confirms she’s fine and sends a picture of the loaded up car. She doesn’t read Charlotte’s until she’s in the driver’s seat. It isn’t anything special. She has good news about a client and an update about another they’re debating reaching out to. She ends it hoping Shona feels better soon and Shona grins to herself, then feels stupid. She has hope again, dangerous hope that she doesn’t think she deserves. But Charlotte is still in her life and Shona wants to be able to admit to how badly she wants her, how much she’s willing to do to make things right. She’ll try this time. She won’t force everything to the back of her head. She doesn’t know if Charlotte will forgive her, but she wants to find out, wants to see what happens if she puts herself on the line. She feels better on the drive home, safer with a plan even if it’s still terrifying and bareboned. Charlotte will be honest with her and Shona can do the same, can try to explain how she didn’t feel weighed down by Charlotte’s admission, but freer, lucky to be told but unsure if she was deserving. She won’t tamp down how much she wants. She doesn’t feel burdened by other people’s expectations. She’ll call her mum and tell her she isn’t engaged. She’ll tell Aine everything as carefully as she can, won’t expect Aine to think the worst of her. She’ll apologize to Charlotte properly, will try to untangle the mess she made, separate how she feels from how she thought she should feel. She’ll tell Charlotte she loves her. She drives back to Aine’s apartment and feels like the future is uncontrollable, but for once it doesn’t seem like a bad thing.