Chapter Eight - Talk to Her or Not?

I drove to Lena's place because I couldn't be alone with my thoughts—they were driving me crazy. I had texted Lena before leaving, since I couldn't get a hold of her when I tried calling. I told her that Paris was following me.

So the second I entered her place, I was welcomed by a warm hug from her and Tim, since he was there too.

"What do you mean Paris followed you?" Lena asked, looking at me with concern.

I looked at her and took a deep breath before saying, "Alex is staying with my mom."

Tim kissed Lena and excused himself, probably seeing that I needed his girlfriend. He brushed my shoulder a bit and winked at me before taking his phone and heading out.

My best friend looked shocked and confused. "Why is she staying there and how do they know each other?"

I suddenly realized I had those same questions and more. Why was Alex staying at my mom's house? Why had she come to South Africa? I mean I knew she was South African, but why hadn't she gone to her family? Was her family still alive?

I explained that Alex and my mother had dated for two years in their late teens before my mom got pregnant and Alex left. I didn't know much about why they broke up, but I knew I was born right after their breakup, which made me think they probably broke up because my mom was pregnant with me.

"I don't know how I feel about having an intense crush on the love of my mother's life," I admitted. "My mother said Alex is the one that got away. What does that even mean? That they'll get back together now, 29 years later? That would make me..." I couldn`t finish my sentence? That would make me what? Why was I putting Alex so deep in my mind?

Lena took my hand in hers. "Lizzy, you need to figure this out. You can't just let this eat you up inside." She slowly nodded her head. "You need to talk to Alex. You deserve answers."

I sighed, feeling the weight of her words. She was right. I needed to know what was going on, but the thought of confronting her was terrifying. "I don't know if I can handle it. If they start dating again, I don't know what I'll do. Whatever walls I'm trying to build, however I'm trying to heal, it'll all come crashing down if Alex starts dating my mother. I think I am losing my mind."

“For now, maybe be the bigger person and ask to talk to her."

I told her that Alex had asked to talk to me alone, saying I didn't understand what had happened in Paris. I admitted I was still mad and didn't know whether to talk to her or not. Lena advised me that as much as it was okay to keep my distance because this was too much to handle, it was also okay to talk to Alex so that I can get clarity.

The only way to know what was happening and have my questions answered was if I talked to her. If I kept the distance, I would kill myself by overthinking and concluding on what was probably not the truth.

I tried to look for my work phone but couldn't find it. That's when it hit me—I had left it at home. It looked like I was going to have to go back there, but not today. Maybe tomorrow, late, so I could just grab the phone and leave without having to fake chat with my mom and Alex. As for now, all I needed was to text my mom and let her know I was okay because she was probably worried.

"You know what, I will take your second advise," I sighed, feeling the weight of the decision. "I need to talk to her, but I need some time. I left my work phone at home, so I'll have to go back to get it. But not today. I need a bit more time to process everything."

Lena looked at me with concern. "Are you sure you want to go back? Maybe I can go with you."

I shook my head. "No, I need to do this alone. Besides, if things get too intense, I can just grab my phone and leave. I'll text my mom now to let her know I'm okay."

I pulled out my personal phone and typed out a quick message to my mom.

Me: "Hey, Mom. I'm at Lena's place. Just needed some time to clear my head. I'll be back tomorrow to grab my work phone. Love you."

After hitting send, I looked back at Lena. "Thanks for being here for me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I got your back always, just like with Sophia too," Lena squeezed my hand and I rolled my eyes at her mentioning Sophia.

--

Sunday came too quickly for my liking, but I knew I had to do this. Throughout the day, I practiced how I’d handle an encounter with Alex, trying to control my emotions and stop myself from screaming at her. I needed to pull myself together; this was my home, and I shouldn’t be terrified by a Paris fling.

Lena offered to go with me again, but I shook my head, insisting I needed to do this alone. I drove slowly, listening to calm music to try and centre myself. The scratch on my hand was getting better, no more bandage, and I was slowly starting to feel more like myself.

When I arrived at home, I let myself in with my keys. Cool music played in the background, and I heard giggles coming from the living room. I swallowed hard before clearing my throat. “There’s a kid here, stop whatever you’re doing.”

Laughter erupted, and my mother called for me from the living room. When I walked in, I was relieved to see there were four people there, my mom’s two friends and, of course, Alex. They all seemed comfortable, drinking wine and chatting like old friends.

“Hey, honey. Alex and I tried to look for your phone, but we couldn’t find it,” my mom said.

I shrugged. “Maybe it’s outside. I was there for a bit.”

Alex stood up, saying she needed some air. “Maybe I can help you look for it, also,” she added.

I didn’t say anything, just headed outside to search by the pool. The backyard was peaceful, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over everything. I walked over to where I had been swimming the other day, scanning the area for my phone. Alex followed me out, the sound of her footsteps on the patio making my heart race.

We stood in silence for a moment, the tension between us palpable. I focused on the pool, pretending to look for my phone, but I could feel Alex’s eyes on me.

“Lizzy,” she began softly.

I didn’t turn to face her. “I’m just here to find my phone, Xander.”

“I know, but can we talk? Please?” Her voice was gentle, almost pleading.

I sighed, finally looking at her. The sight of her brought back a rush of memories—Paris, the way she made me feel, the way she disappointed me. How could two encounters with a stranger make and break me the way she did? “What do you want to talk about?”

“I want to explain. About Paris, about everything,” Alex said, stepping closer.

“Explain what?” I shrugged, not getting this at all. “How you made me feel like a fool?”

“Lizzy, I never meant to hurt you or lie to you. I didn’t know things would turn out the way they did between us, that I'd feel how I felt.”

I laughed bitterly. “Of course, you didn't.”

She looked genuinely pained, and for a moment, I saw the vulnerability in her eyes, the same vulnerability that had drawn me to her in the first place. The same one I saw when my fingers were inside her in that bed in Paris. But I shook my head trying to keep that image out of it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered before she looked towards the house and then back at me. "Please meet up with me somewhere so I can tell you what really happened. Please."

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my emotions in check. As much as she hurt me, she didn`t need to apologise. “You don`t need to say sorry, Alex. You made me feel like I was nothing, like I was just some fling you wanted to immediately get rid of. Which I'm okay with actually, because whatever we were doing was supposed to end there. So, there's really no need for you to try and explain yourself. You were just trying to stop us before we got carried away and maybe before our feelings were involved.” Even though I was already carried away. But I didn't say that to her. I couldn't give her the satisfaction.

Alex reached out with her hand, but I took a step back. “Don’t. Just… don’t.”

We stood there in the fading light, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between us. I could hear the distant laughter of my mom and her friends inside, a stark contrast to the turmoil I felt. I had no idea how to navigate this, but I knew one thing, I was here to get my work phone and leave.

“Let’s just find my phone,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. Alex nodded, and we resumed our search in silence, the unspoken words lingering in the warm evening air.

The back light flicked on, and my mom stumbled towards us, a little tipsy. I was grateful she interrupted the awkward silence and also glad that I forced us to focus to find my phone. Momlaughed, looking at me with a mix of concern and warmth.

“How’s Mpumi, honey? Will you give the girl a chance and forget about the woman you never got in Paris? Love could pass you by while you think about someone who’s probably not even thinking about you right now.”

Hearing that hurt because the woman my mother was referring to was standing right there with us. I couldn’t say that out loud. Alex and I exchanged a look, a silent conversation filled with confusion and unresolved emotions. Alex looked mad or hurt; I couldn’t read her well.

My mom smiled, a bit unsteady on her feet. “Thank you for allowing Xander to help you. She’s hurting because she just broke off her engagement to her girlfriend of 12 years. That’s why she’s here, to clear her head.”

I was shocked. What? Alex was engaged, and she broke it off? 12 years? 12-year relationship???

Suddenly, things started to make sense. Her behaviour in Paris, her crying, it all pointed to a deep sense of guilt and confusion. Maybe she realized she made a mistake. Surprisingly, this revelation didn’t make me sad. Instead, it brought clarity and a strange sense of happiness.

For the past two months, I had doubted myself, felt insecure, and wondered if I had done something wrong. But now I realized that nothing was wrong with me. That night in Paris was as magnificent as I remembered it. I did nothing wrong. Alex was the one eaten by guilt, and her behaviour had nothing to do with me. This realization made me feel better about myself.

“Found it,” Alex said, holding my phone in her hand.

I took the phone from her, trying to keep my composure. “Thanks,” I muttered, turning to my mom. “I think I’ll go now. You guys enjoy your night.”

“Honey, are you okay?” my mom asked, her concern evident despite her tipsiness.

“Yeah, I just realized something, I'm good mom, I'll be good.” I kissed her cheek, forcing a smile.

As I walked away, I felt a sense of liberation. I didn’t need to carry the weight of Alex’s choices. I was free to move on, and to find love that wasn’t tangled in lies and betrayal and cheating.

I was enough, and it was time to start believing that. As I drove away, the music in the car was my only companion, a soothing balm for my soul. I was looking forward to the coming week and to start over again.

As I parked outside my place, my phone suddenly vibrated. I picked it up and saw a text message from an unknown number. My heart skipped a beat, and the first person who came to mind was Alex. I laughed at myself for thinking that, rolling my eyes at my own foolishness. What was it going to take to get her out of my mind?

I opened the text, and it was indeed from Alex. Of course, it was. Who else could it be?

[phone]: “Please meet up with me and talk. What happened in Paris to me is exactly what happened to you. Not a day went by without me thinking about you these past two months. Please let me tell you everything. Please let me reintroduce myself.”

I stared at the screen, my emotions a tangled mess. Part of me wanted to throw the phone across the car, while another part of me wanted to reply immediately, desperate for answers and the truth.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I had spent so much time questioning everything, feeling hurt and betrayed. But now, here was an opportunity to get some clarity. I couldn’t deny that a part of me wanted to hear her out, to understand why she did what she did. Why she cheated on her partner and then left me doubting myself.

Still, I was scared. Scared of what she might say, scared of the emotions it would stir up, scared of feeling everything again and then being hurt all over again. I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes for a moment. I needed to think this through.

Finally, I opened my eyes and typed a response. This was it, I needed my answers and she had them.

Me: “Fine. We can meet and talk. I just need to understand why you used me to cheat on your fiancé and then left me to indirectly deal with that guilt. Tell me when and where?”

I hit send and sighed, feeling a strange mix of relief and anxiety. This conversation was inevitable, and perhaps it was the only way for me to truly move forward.