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The house was quieter than usual, even with it being so late in the night. Her sisters were away, her father and mother campaigning, leaving the house vastly empty.
Eliza hated the house. It was too big, too dull. Even when it was filled by the company of her family, it couldn’t seem to upend its own bleakness.
But currently, the utterly empty house seemed like a blessing.
Eliza patted around her bed for her pack of Marlboros, before finally grasping them and lighting one up. She was smart enough to realize that cigarettes wouldn’t save her, but she reasoned that everyone had their vices.
She moved to the cracked window, taking a drag. It burnt going down, but she could manage it.
She was interrupted by her phone ringing. Alex.
The fact that she had to check to see who it was astounded even herself. No one ever called her besides him. He was always trying to check up on her, making sure she was fairing well. She’d sometimes respond. When she did, it was always with the same one-word answers.
Frankly, she didn’t know how he’d stuck around this long. Eliza had a habit of not putting the work in to keep friendships alive, and to anyone else, this seemed no different.
Maybe this call was the one where he’d tell her that she’s a bitch, and that he doesn’t want to associate with her anymore.
She couldn’t blame him. For his own sake, she almost wished it would be.
She picked up her phone, sliding to answer.
“Eliza?” He spoke first, because he always spoke first. His voice was as genuine as it had always been, even when she didn’t deserve it.
She took another puff of her cigarette before humming in response.
“How are you doing?” He asked then, his voice sickeningly sweet.
She rubbed at her forehead. “Getting on. How about you?” She muttered. She hated that she couldn’t make her voice sound interested. She truly did want to know.
“I’m okay. I miss you.”
Eliza’s stomach soured. Moons ago, he used to come over every night, sharing her clothes, sleeping in her bed. He’d kiss her sometimes, on her hair and on her temples, and say nice things to her. She wondered if any of those words were true.
Now, he didn’t come by the Schuyler house anymore. Not that he didn’t want to. He’d asked multiple times, and Eliza had turned him down each time, vowing to herself that she’d rather rot alone than expose her current state to another person.
There was a beat of silence before he spoke again.
“Are you smoking?”
His voice was void of any condescension, but Eliza couldn’t help but feel ashamed anyways.
“A little,” she admitted, resting her head on her windowsill.
“...Okay.” She let out a huff of relief at him dropping the subject. She wasn’t in the mood to be lectured.
Silence rang through the phone again.
“I miss you, Betsey,” he said once more.
She felt herself start to crumble, the same way she inevitably did every time he broke out the old nickname.
She flicked out the butt, watching as the glowing spark faded into nothingness.
“I know. I miss you too,” she said, her voice heavy.
She didn’t know why she was so ashamed to admit it. They’d never truly dated, and it wasn’t as if they’d had some horrible falling out.
But still, he’d seen every part of her, and she, every part of him. He was the only one who knew how to make her feel cared for, and she was the only one who knew how to get him calm and collected.
They’d seen each other naked, poked and prodded each other’s bodies in curiosity. They hadn’t fucked, but there were times they’d come close. It was as if they were one in the same, a package deal. He loved her with all his heart, and she loved him with everything she had to give.
So maybe that was why it was shameful to admit that she missed him terribly. Because she had him, and she threw it out.
She waited for him to say something. Anything. To ridicule her for admitting such a thing. To laugh in her face and affirm her fears that he hated her.
He said nothing.
“Alex?” She questioned quietly, hating the way her voice squeaked out.
“Let me come by, Eliza, please,” he said quickly, pleadingly.
She couldn’t. She didn’t want to subject him to whatever was going on with her as of late. She told him as such.
He didn’t back down. “I don’t care, Betsey, I want to see you. I just want to be around you, please.”
Her chest felt increasingly heavy, her mind racing.
She looked out the window. It should have been dark, but the street lights lit up the outside.
“Come through the back,” she finally relented, speaking soft and calculated.
———-
Alex knew about the key under the pot. He grabbed it and unlocked the back door, stepping into the Schuyler household and trodding up the stairs to Eliza’s room. It was dark.
He let himself into her room, taking in the sight of her.
She was splayed along her bed, her long dark hair splayed around her. Her eyes were closed, pale face looking towards the ceiling.
She sat up when she noticed his entrance. The silence was deafening.
“Hi,” she said finally, sitting up on her bed.
“Hi,” he responded, rubbing his neck.
He stepped forward carefully, taking care to not overstep. When it seemed she wouldn't object, he sat beside her on the bed.
The unspoken tension was a current that neither of them knew how to navigate. Eliza rubbed her eyes, fishing around her pockets.
“Cigarette?” She offered, holding out the box.
“None for me,” he said resolutely.
She pulled out her lighter, a hot pink one given to her by Angelica. It made her upset when she got it. She didn’t like pink. She liked blue.
She looked at Alex’s face as she lit up, trying not to dwell on the pitiful expression he wore.
“You’re better than me. Always have been.” She took a drag.
“That’s not true Eliza. I wish you wouldn’t say that.”
She hated how sincere he sounded. The room fell into uncomfortable silence once more.
Where had they gone so wrong? When did it become so difficult for the two of them to keep a conversation going?
And when would Alex decide that he was done putting up with her bullshit?
“I don’t know why I do it,” she said softly, breaking the silence. “Smoking. It doesn’t help. It actually kind of hurts.”
She crushed the butt on her window sill. She’d had enough.
“Everyone’s got their bad habits,” he reasoned. She hated that. He was always trying to reason. Trying to somehow prove that she was not the direct cause for everything in her life going to shit.
“Just take them,” she resigned, tossing them over to the edge of the bed where Alex sat. He caught them and shoved them in his pocket, all too obliging.
“Where’re your sisters?”
“London.”
“Oh, wow,” he mused, an impressed look on his face. “Why didn’t you go?”
“I failed three classes.”
The silence was loud. He scooted a little closer.
“Well, that’s okay ‘Liza. You can figure it out next year right?”
She shrugged, curling up on herself.
“And when I’m rich, I’ll take you to London myself, how about?”
Eliza looked at him. She knew he would too, is the thing. He’d do anything she asked.
“I don’t really want to go. I’d rather be here,” she finally said. It was a half-truth, because even at her most vulnerable, she could not keep herself from lying.
Alex shrugged, leaning back on his arms a bit. “Okay. That’s fine too. Less expensive, at least.”
Silence overtook the room once more. Time stretched on, slow and aching. Eliza found that as usual, she had little to talk about. But unusually, neither did Alex. He didn’t try to push conversation, didn’t try to touch her, didn’t attempt to make her laugh like he used to when they were together. He just sat there, arms folded in his lap, eyes fixed on the subtle glowing of her desk lamp in the otherwise dark room.
It was past midnight when he started to shuffle around her bed, readying himself to go back home, to leave her, maybe even happily so. Realistically, he’d call within the next day to check in on her, and she’d probably decline the call, and not speak to him until she inevitably calls him back months later, craving undeserved company. She knew that’s how they worked now, all her own doing, and it made her sick. She turned towards him, hands searching for him in the dark.
“Don’t leave,” she said. She hardly knew why she said it. Usually she’d be itching to be by herself, away from judgemental glances and holier-than-thou speeches. But with Alex, it was never like that, and she couldn’t bring herself to crave solitude just yet.
He hesitated for a moment, and it felt eternal. “Okay. I won’t.”
She felt him settle back down next to her, close enough to hear his breathing. They stayed like that for a while, Eliza practically curled into him. It felt secure.
“You remember that time we went to the lake?” Alex asked suddenly, breaking the silence of the room. His voice was soft, slightly rasped in a way that she had always found so endearing. Her mouth twitched slightly in lew of an answer. That was enough for him to continue.
“You brought that obscenely large floaty. The one shaped like a flamingo.”
She grumbled into the side of his ribs. “Don’t remind me.”
“And it popped before you even got into the water.”
She let out a shallow laugh. It was weak and short, but it felt real.
“I forgot sunscreen,” she added, “and I burned so bad I couldn’t move for a week.”
“You cried on the way home.”
“Ugh. I said don’t remind me,” she said slightly louder and swatted at him lightly.
“I think that was the last time I saw you really happy.”
Her hand tensed.
Alex noticed, but didn’t pull away. His smile, however, faltered. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, Betsey,” he said gently. But it was already out there, looming over the room as an unavoidable weight.
She was quiet for a moment before pulling her hand back, letting it drop into her own lap. “Of course you didn’t. You always mean well. That’s the problem, you always mean well.”
Alex looked at her, confusion evident even in the near darkness.
“How is that a problem?”
“Because it makes me feel like shit,” she said bluntly. “You come in here with your nice words and good intentions, and it just-” she broke off, shaking her head as if to shake the feeling loose. “It makes me feel worse. You make me feel worse.”
Alex opened his mouth to respond before being promptly cut off.
“You sit here and look at me and talk to me like I'm some fragile thing that just needs the right kind of love or something, and then everything will be fine. Everything will be normal. And that’s just not how this works. That was never how this was gonna work.”
Her voice was shaking then, but she never broke her gaze from his.
“And you,” she said, accentuating her point by jabbing a finger at him, “you keep showing up. You keep being this… this good thing. And it just makes me feel like even more of a fuck up. And I hate that.”
Alex just looked at her, his face showing no sign of irritation in the slightest. She hated that too. The way he never seemed to be mad at her, even when she absolutely deserved it. She wished just once he’d be cruel. But he wouldn’t, because just like she could not find it in herself to change her attitude, he could not either. He didn’t try to speak this time, just listened. He would always listen.
“I don’t deserve you. And do you dare try and say I do, because I know you're thinking it too. And every time you sit here and try to convince me I’m not a mess, it just reminds me of how much I don’t deserve you.”
She stood up suddenly, her feet chilled by the cool wood floors as she paced.
“I wish you’d- I don't even know. I wish you’d get fed up with me, I guess. You should be spending your time with someone who can laugh easily, and wake up before noon, and can actually pick up the phone without having to fight herself. You need someone who isn't this pathetic, used up version of a girl you used to know.”
Alex stood too, but refrained from taking a step towards her. “I don’t want someone else.”
Inwardly, she thought to herself that she finally got a taste of what she deserved, because that was the cruelest thing he could have said.
“That’s not fair,” she whispered.
“What’s not fair?”
“That you still care. That you’re acting like I haven’t broken everything into pieces.”
“I don’t care about what you've broken,” he said genuinely. “I care that you’re still here.”
She laughed bitterly, wiping at the wetness that had formed in her eyes. “Yeah, well. I don’t know how long that’ll last.”
Alex’s eyes widened. “Don’t say that Eliza. Please don’t ever say that again.”
“I’m just being honest”
He finally took a careful step towards her. “Fine then, I’ll be honest too. I’m not here because I think you’re easy to be around. I’m not here because I think I can ‘fix’ you. I’m here because I love you Eliza. And even when you shut everyone and everything out, that doesn’t stop me. I love you, even when you feel like you can’t love anything at all.”
It was heartbreakingly honest. She didn’t respond right away. She couldn’t. She just stood there, arms crossed tightly over her chest as if she was trying to hide herself from him, trying to shield herself from the love he always seemed to spill at any given time.
And then, finally, she responded in a voice that was small enough to barely be heard, but he was listening, like he always did.
“You shouldn't.”
He looked at her, his big eyes unwavering. “Maybe not. But I do.”
Eliza didn't say anything for a minute. She just stood there, her chest filled with a shameful, hollow ache. “I…I don't know what to do with that,” she said finally. “With you.”
“You don’t have to do anything,” Alex replied.
“But eventually, you’re going to want something back. And I'm scared I'll never be able to get back to-” she cut herself off. To how it used to be between them. Fun and light and so so easy.
He didn't flinch. “I want you to stay. And I want you to let me stay too. That's all I want for now. You don’t need to give me anything else right now.”
She shook her head, eyes glassy. “You don’t get it. It’s not about timing, Alex. I’m not holding some secret stash of love and happiness that I'm just waiting to unveil when the time is right. I don’t have it in me. Not like you do.”
“I’m not asking for that”
“But that's what you’ll need, eventually.” Her voice cracked then, just slightly, as she turned away from him. “And I won't be able to give it. Not enough. And then you’ll start resenting me, even if you don’t want to. Just because you think you haven’t yet doesn’t mean it isn’t gonna happen.”
Alex wanted to deny it. He doubted he could ever resent her, any part of her, good or bad. But the reality was that she was speaking from a place he had never experienced. And she was probably right, even if he didn’t want to accept that. Still, he didn't move.
Eliza looked back towards him then, her expression almost angry. It was the same self directed fury that she had become all too familiar with in the past couple months.
“I don’t want to owe you for being nice,” she said.
“You don’t.”
“You say that now.”
“And I’ll say it again tomorrow.”
Eliza looked away, shoulders tight and jaw clenched as she felt her eyes prick with tears again. She wouldn't let them fall. She couldn’t cry in front of him and bear to feel anymore of his pity towards her. Especially when he was still looking at her like she hadn't already failed him in a million ways.
“I don’t think I can be the person you hope I'll become.”
He was offering her a lifeline, and she was offering him an exit. She wondered if they would always be such walking contradictions.
“I'm not hoping for someone else,” he responded. “I just want you. No matter what state you're in.”
“I don’t have some beautiful version of myself under all of this. There’s no big reveal to be had here.”
“I beg to differ.”
“I'm not gonna wake up one morning and magically be better.”
“I know.”
“I’ll still push you away. I’ll ignore your texts.”
He nodded. “I’ve seen all that already.”
“And?”
“And I'm still here. And I’ll still keep reaching out.”
She exhaled, her eyes wide with something akin to disbelief. “Why?”
He stepped closer. Truly, there were a million reasons he could list, but he settled on the one that seemed to encapsulate them all. “Because I want to be.”
She met his eyes. “I don't want to keep hurting you.”
“You don’t,” he said immediately, taking both of her hands.
“I already have.”
“I’d say that’s for me to decide.”
His thumbs rubbed light circles over her knuckles. She bit her cheek.
“You're allowed to leave, you know,” she said, barely audible. “You can walk away and never talk to me again. I wouldn't even blame you if you did.”
Alex nodded, and this time, she could tell he understood what she was saying completely.
“But..” she began, eyes still glued to him. She allowed her head to fall against his shoulder, “Just maybe not right now.”
He smiled softly against her hair. “I wouldn't even think about it.” His arms went to wrap around her, holding her in a steady embrace against him.
Eliza closed her eyes. She didn't say thank you. She didn't apologize. But she didn’t pull away either, and that was certainly a start.