Closure at the Speed of Sound

Author's Note: This story has sex in it but sex is not the focus of it. And it has some intense emotional scenes near the end.

I hope you will still try it and enjoy it.

*****

I was visiting family in New Jersey and was shopping at Walmart of all places. I went for deodorant to replace what I'd mistakenly left at home when I ran into Diane. Even after thirty years I recognized her instantly; we were together Senior year of college. It had been a casual college thing. Even when we were serious it wasn't serious.

I was lying to myself in that moment.

It was serious, as serious gets.

Thirty years blurred, if not obscured, events to the point that I didn't know what were memories and what were fictions I created to fill in the gaps or deceive myself. It took me half that time to finally come to a cease fire with my past.

She'd left; I couldn't remember why at that moment standing in Walmart, but I knew it had hurt. That hurt was the last thing to be locked away fifteen years ago. It no longer gnawed at me every single day. I knew enough to not exhume that grave so I gave it a wide berth. What was past, was past I convinced myself.

There was no way that I'd just walk away from Diane without saying something. If nothing else I was curious about what she was like now, the grown up version of the Diane I knew at 20.

I was approaching her when she saw me; we locked eyes. It was easy to see that she knew but couldn't place me. Then it clicked and she smiled a totally average smile. The years had been neutral to her; she looked neither good nor bad. Aged predictably, put on a little weight but who hadn't. All of the same could be said of me. (I hope).

"Hey, how are you doing Diane. It's been a while."

"Craig... Good God how long has it been? A long time, I guess. What are you doing here? You were living down South."

"More like Mid-Atlantic," I said smiling. (Debating the point had been a thing with us). "Visiting family. My Aunt still lives here. I'm surprised you're still around, I would have guessed you'd moved somewhere else by now. Or did you?"

"Nope, still in Jersey. I met John after I graduated from college. We live in Basking Ridge, I'm looking for basketball shoes for Patty..."

She must have seen the look on my face. Diane smiled.

"My daughter. I haven't heard from that Patty in years. I don't hear from anybody anymore actually. How's Helen?"

They were in the same year at school, knew each other, they were not close.

I seem to recall Holly told Di about Helen at some point? We'll meet Holly in a moment.

"We divorced two years ago."

"Sorry."

"Don't be, should have happened sooner. Actually, I should never have married her but that's another thing."

Helen was my rebound; there's no way I'd forget that.

"Kids?" She asked.

"Two girls. One in college, one out. You?"

"One of each; in high school and college. God, I haven't thought about back then in sooo long"

She got this smile on her face; the smile people get when they're recalling youthful indiscretions.

"You remember our birthday party?"

Turns out I did.

Vividly.

*****

When people talk about dating, I lack a frame of reference. I did precious little of it in high school, side benefit of going to an all-male Catholic one. College was also, nominally, Catholic although they took anyone. It mattered more to my parents than me.

School was in the middle of nowhere with nothing around. Most of the students went elsewhere on the weekends. The rest of us were stuck. That meant that we all hung around each other full time. Getting drunk and spilling your guts, metaphorically and literally, did all the work that formal dating was intended for. And I married straight out of college.

I thank God the drinking age was still 18 back then. And that the school ran a place on campus that served beer. I would never have made it through college otherwise.

Diane and I hung out together a lot. So much so that people figured we were sleeping together. Nope, she was a good Catholic girl at a Catholic college; it was not going to happen. At least that's what she said, I think she may have even believed it. I was deeply, solidly into her. Di? She seemed to want a relationship but she just wouldn't commit. We'd kissed on occasion but I would not call it passionate.

I'll be honest with you; Di was a little on the plain side. She was about my height, which is to say average with collar length brunette hair. She was neither thin nor large. There was some shape to her and she had a respectable chest but nothing extraordinary. Plain. I of course didn't care.

She was smart, we had the same tastes in music. We were both business majors, she had less of an interest in it than even I did, and we could talk to each other.

I liked what we had but, of course, I wanted her to commit.

*****

Toward the end of Fall semester things seemed to be headed there. The way she looked at me was more intense, she kept a little closer and we made out a couple of times in my single dorm room. (As a Senior I had my pick of rooms so I went with a palatial 100 sq ft single). We didn't go too far but it was progress in my mind.

We talked a lot over Thanksgiving. I drove the 40 minutes to her house on the Saturday after. (Laugh if you want but I took living in Jersey and so close to her parents' house as a sign). We went out and had a good time, despite being limited to a college student budget.

We got back to school to start the most beautiful and most hellish months of my life.

Remember, I was only 20.

*****

Diane and I both had birthdays at the start of December. And how were we going to spend them? Drinking of course.

We cooked up a plan to hold a party in her triple. It was much more roomy than my single so it was only logical. Patty and Di had had a freshman in the room with them (I'm not sure I ever knew her name), but she got, first, pregnant her second week at school, and then whisked away to never be seen again. She was never replaced. By the time of the party Patty was mostly sleeping elsewhere. We'll get to that.

For reference, Patty was an inch taller than Di and probably weighed 98 lbs. soaking wet with rocks in her pockets. She was possessed of short, blond, frizzy hair and perhaps best, a filthy sense of humor.

I forgot an awful lot but I remember "More than a mouthful is a waste" to this day.

The two of us went out, procuring about a skid's worth of beer. Half the Western world, and all of Europe by the look of it, attended. It spilled out of the room and into the cavernous hallway of the 200 year old building. It was the kind of college party you aspire to; everything fell into place seamlessly, the energy just right because everyone is synchronized. In short, it was a banger.

I took a breather, getting away from the noise, heat of massed bodies and the crowd. The window in Di's room was halfway open for heat dissipation despite the time of year. I'm standing there blissfully watching the lightest of snowflakes falling when Diane walked up.

Wordlessly she pulled me into the most passionate kiss we'd ever shared, everything I had dreamed of for months. It was all too short, because who would want it to ever end? Di stepped back, a shy smile on her face, not looking at me. She rested her forehead on my shoulder for a brief moment and, still not looking at me, got this shit eating grin on her face and went back to the party.

OK, I was ecstatic, and a few other things, but also in a state of shock. What changed, what switch got flipped? And then it hit me; a fair number of people had seen us kissing. Di had put the public in PDA and in front of half the Western world, and all of Europe. (Even in my drunken state I knew I was being hyperbolic but eff it).

Did this make us a couple? Or was it one of those drunken acts that gets forgotten about? I was too scared to go ask, I did not want to burst that bubble.

*****

A drunken decision was reached by acclaim; we'd all go to the on campus place and drink yet more beer. I only remember a few events after that. At least till the end of the night.

One was sitting at a table with eight to ten mutual friends: the Usual Suspects.

Diane, again wordlessly, takes ahold of my shirt and pulls me over for another tonsillectomy. In front of all our friends. I can't help but conclude that yup, we're officially a couple. Once is a datapoint, twice is a vector. It wasn't my imagination, wish fulfillment, it was a wish fulfilled, if it quacks like a duck...

From there I remember just two more things; smudged makeup on my glasses and leaving before her, asking her to stop by my room after she got done. I resolved not to drink one more thing, (if I stayed I would), because I did not want to pass out, throw up on her or anything else before I learned what was going on.

I was adorable; I was praying for sex; you and I both know it.

*****

Sitting in my dorm room, steadily sobering up, I'm thinking three things:

What the hell is going on, what changed?

I'm finally going to be with Di.

I'm finally going to be with Di.

You want to talk about time dilation; try being 20 under those conditions. I'm starting to think I was SOL when there was a knock on the door. Yup, Diane.

She walked in and threw her jacket off to one side, never taking her eyes off of me.

I have had a problem my whole life not asking questions when I needed to in situations like that. I think I'm scared it will all evaporate. So, Diane wound up speaking first.

"I got us a birthday present."

*****

This time the kiss didn't end so much as became the first in a long line of kisses. Without breaking lock, we made it onto the bed together. Hands started to wander; I maintain I got the better of the deal. Then again, who knows, I had a crazy hard erection.

Diane sat up and pulled off her shirt. It wound up somewhere in the vicinity of her jacket. I think. I'd seen the bra before. In her laundry basket. It barely registered that her nipples were poking through because the bra went ballistic quickly after that.

And then I came to a crashing halt.

"Motherfu...! I don't have any condoms."

Needing them had been a self-solving problem up till this point. Diane stood up, the shit eating grin on her face again. And plucked one from her jeans pocket.

"I raided Patty's private reserve"

It was an open secret that Patty had spent more than a little time staring at ceilings or bent over desks since she started college last year.

Diane put it within easy reach and, hey, since she was already up unzipped her jeans and dropped them. Figuring I was behind, I stood, lost the shirt and added my jeans to the pile. Underwear went next.

Things moved slowly but we didn't care; being naked together started as a mix of running our eyes and our hands over each other. Diane kept it neutral initially and worked her way toward more risqué regions. I didn't have a lot of previous experience so I kept it to exploring at that point as well. If I were to pick a word for those first moments it would be sensual.

Looking back, I'm surprised we didn't just jump each other and go at it. Not that I'm complaining, it was indeed sensual in the fullest sense of the word.

I've never claimed to be an expert on breasts, but I gave her high marks. They were a nice shape, nice size in my hand. Both hands actually, one for each. I gave her long slow kisses as I held them, caressed them. The tips remained hard points; I gave them a lot of attention.

They weren't the only thing that was hard. Amusingly, we were so intent on what we were doing, the way we were doing it that my erection got in the way. Di eventually reached down and took me in her hand. I was so hypersensitive that, for lack of a better word, I cringed. She looked at me, a quizzical expression on her face, I just nodded and smiled. Di broke out in a grin.

We spent a moment watching ourselves touch each other before Diane began to stroke. She was hesitant at first and never built up a lot of speed but then again, she didn't need to; I just stood there enjoying us being together before we switched. I bent over and tongued her breasts and not just the hardened tips. It was her turn to stop and enjoy.

The two of us were breathing faster, Di was giving forth small moans. I caught her attention and nodded toward the bed without speaking. She actually bit her lip and nodded "yes."

We tumbled into bed together.

We returned to kissing and caressing each other. At one point Diane maneuvered so that my thigh was between her legs. She moved in close and rubbed herself against my leg insistently. I swapped out my thigh for my hand and began to work in and around her. Di went back to stroking me. Now both of us made noises.

There came the point where I gave her a questioning look. She knew what I was trying to convey and nodded again. I twisted back to snag the condom.

Please excuse me but I'm going to skip ahead, what followed isn't terribly sexy. Suffice it to say that she was a virgin, at least for another few minutes. I'm honestly not sure how it was for her, we never talked about it.

It was the wee hours of the morning and it all just kind of stopped. We got Diane cleaned up and we dressed.

I'd love to say that we lay in bed in each other's arms or she spent the night but neither happened. It never occurred to me back then.

I'm not sure why I said that.

We didn't say a lot to each other. For one thing we were exhausted and for another Di was sore. The two of us held an incredibly long hug.

In comparison to the rest of the night the kiss at the door was tame. I scouted the short way to the front doors before motioning her on. Given the nature of the college, men and women were segregated by floors so I had to get her past the perimeter. She lived only one floor up.

*****

I want to tell you that we had a classically beautiful romance after that. Except you already know it doesn't end like that. Things between us got throttled back into the grey zone again.

We kissed at times but not in front of anyone, we hung out, sometimes drinking, sometimes not. What definitely didn't happen was sex. At first, I thought it was simply the fallout from that first time, she wasn't interested because of the physical experience or emotionally she needed time. Yeah, that was not it. Maybe it was because we'd been drinking that night, maybe she just regretted it. The reason was lost to me.

A few months after I told this story, Patty referred to it as "fucker's remorse."

*****

A slight but necessary discursion. It turned out that Patty discovered around this time that she was a lesbian, or at least decided to experiment. Diane and Patty both played on the school softball team. People pieced things together at one point and realized that Patty and the female softball coach, Beth, were having some sort of relationship. It was a different time, if it happened today there'd immediately be criminal charges and multi-million dollar lawsuits should it come to light. And the Church would take another one on the chin. Had it come out back then, there would have been repercussions too but no one was sensitized to it like they are today and ask questions sooner.

More often than not, for a few months, Patty stayed with Beth at night.

The practical outcome was that Diane was in possession of a three person dorm room which she had all to herself for the majority of the time. This became important later.

*****

Diane and I both had finals on the last school day before Christmas vacation. The school allowed a grace period so we didn't have to be out until the following day. I had offered to drive her home because she lived not far from my Aunt in Jersey. (Which is where I spent the holidays, it's a long story for another time). There was almost nobody left in the dorms. The RA turned a blind eye to the rules sometimes because she had a boyfriend who'd stay overnight. That night the RA had no interest in doing her job for only eight girls out of the usual sixty.

The two of us were sitting on Diane's bed, backs to the wall. We'd killed the only two beers left. And that was half an hour ago. For once in my life I asked a question the answer to which I might not like. In the least.

"Di. I gotta know, what's up with us. Is there an us?"

She looked down, quiet, thinking.

"I don't know Craig. You tell me," she replied.

"Yeah, no. If you can't tell what I'm thinking after three, four months... come on, you're not that stupid. The night of the party wasn't for shits and grins. It was real. Why are you doing this? What are you even doing?"

"I don't know."

"'I don't know'? Di, what does that mean?"

I stopped and took a deep breath. Maybe there was a reason I didn't ask the tough questions; I didn't know what to do in the face of ambiguity.

"Craig. It might have been too real."

It was going nowhere but I wouldn't let her slide. I was too wrapped up in her. I didn't hear the term sunk cost fallacy till years later. I was ready to ride this one in. Like I later did with my marriage.

With thumb and forefinger, I turned her chin toward me. I was way too young to look at that kind of what... vulnerability? Wanting, needing, to give yourself over and scared of losing yourself in the process? I understood now what she meant by "too real."

Her eyes had gone watery. I responded the only way a 21 year old knows how. And Diane responded the only way a 20 year old knows how.

It's all subjective and way too many years ago but looking back, that may have been the single best kiss of my life. Current day me knows all the reasons, all the motivations. And I don't care.

Because God help me, I would still give anything to be back in that one moment.

"Get the door," was all she said.

By the time I turned back around she already had her sweater off and was headed toward Patty's private reserve, working on her bra clasp at the same time.

We got each other undressed with a speed and precision that beggared belief. Diane lightly pushed me down on her bed and did the honors with the condom. And then she climbed on top, straddling me; zero foreplay, none was needed.

I got a few perfunctory kisses before she sat up and rode me. Hard. We held hands, Di had her eyes closed, a look of concentration on her face, her mouth opened progressively wider as her breathing ramped up. I started to thrust up into her, my breathing was none too slow to begin with and starting to accelerate as well.

At the last possible instant Diane pitched forward onto me, burying her face and her teeth in my shoulder. Between a Herculean effort and her muffled mouth, the scream was almost strangled, resonating somewhere down low in her throat. I had the best seat in the house; she set me off and I followed her in.

At first, we clung to each other like drowning victims, then we steadily eased up. Di turned her head and rested it on my shoulder, looking me in the eye. (I had so many hormones in me I didn't even feel the shoulder). She looked spent, at peace with herself while crying ever so lightly. I kissed her forehead.

Disturbing her as little as possible, I slid out from under and cleaned myself up. Coming back to bed I saw she lay where I'd left her but now with this little exhausted smile on her face. I pulled the covers over her, went to turn out the light, climbed in and spent the night.

*****

Micheal, the RA, saw me leave the next morning. She was in her bathrobe carrying a bucket containing her toiletries toward the communal bathroom. The look on her face, her pursed lips, said, "Hurry up, I don't want to notice you officially."

*****

I'm not sure how I'd describe the drive to Jersey. We were mostly quiet but we didn't need to say anything. There was an energy, a background radiation of calm stillness. I'd look at her and she'd look back, share the barest of smiles that spoke volumes.

I knew we'd arrived, We were a couple.

*****

We got together over the holidays but there would certainly be no opportunity to have sex anytime soon. My Aunt liked her well enough. Her folks were at best ambivalent toward me. We certainly didn't tell them we were having sex but I'm not sure they even understood what I meant to her despite our obvious affection for one another. Di just shrugged when I asked her why that might be. I don't think she wanted to borrow trouble.

*****

Back at school we occasionally took advantage of Patty's absence to have sex, or more often just fool around. Because it was a shorter distance to the front door of my dorm, and therefore less risky, Di spent a weekend night with me on a regular basis. It was the same as upstairs, more almost-sex than the actual article but I was perfectly happy with that. The thing I loved most on those Fridays or Saturdays was sleeping next to her. I know, 21 years old and not thinking solely about sex, astounding.

I was sure I was in love with her.

*****

I think it was clear to all that we were a couple even though we hadn't formally said anything to anyone. We thought it was self-evident.

Still...

I think it was the end of February, early March when Chip said something aloud. He lived down the hall from me and was one of the Usual Suspects.

Di and I were sitting next to each other eating dinner in the Caff; he had his girlfriend Holly, another US, with him.

"Is there something going on between you two?", he asked flat out.

Holly was smiling; I looked to Diane.

She wouldn't make eye contact but had the first signs of the shit eating grin on her face. She looked at him bashfully and shrugged.

It was understated and she needed do no more; everyone at the table understood. And was happy about it.

I was wearing her shit eating grin.

Holly just shook her head without speaking, grinning to herself.

Chip reached in a pocket, pulled out a dollar and handed it to her. Then he went back to eating, chuckling.

*****

A week later Diane got a call from home. (Bear in mind that this was in the age before cell phones; in fact, there were only two phone lines out of her dorm). I wasn't there but I heard about it from Holly.

"I think it was her folks. Di called them a couple of times and was less and less happy every time she did."

I had noticed her getting quieter. And more like her pre-Christmas self. I asked her what was wrong and I got a nonanswer back; it was class, some homework assignment. I didn't think that was it but short of pushing, I didn't think I'd get an answer. And I was becoming too afraid to push, things already seemed to be slipping.

*****

End of March, Di's Dad came unannounced and picked her up for the weekend. Yeah, round trip from Jersey; two counting her necessary return trip on Sunday. Three hours each way. I was searching for some explanation but there was a news blackout; she was vague and unconvincing. None of US had a clue nor did anyone from her hall. We all fell back on it just being a family thing over a weekend.

*****

Sunday, I got the call from her. On the pay phone on my hall.

I was on full display to twenty guys, out in the open. It was not conducive to an intimate, deeply personal conversation.

I can't remember all the words.

She's not coming back until next weekend, she might be leaving school, it was a jumble, unclear.

The one thing that was made clear was that we were over.

"I thought I knew what I wanted but I guess not. I'm... sorry."

"What the hell?" it was said more as a question than an exclamation.

"Listen I know..."

"I don't think you do. What the hell is up? Why are we back here?"

Her voice broke. I got the feeling she was scrambling to find words that she didn't believe in.

"I'm sorry, I've got to go."

The line went dead.

I turned around and found Chip looking at me. He'd caught some of it.

"I'm sorry man." The look on his face was one of heartfelt sympathy.

*****

Holly went to bat for me and talked to Di. At best she got the impression that her parents were involved. I got a very sisterly hug from her. She was such a breezy person it had an impact on me.

Helen was not an US, she was too busy pulling a 4.0 maintaining a scholarship, but she made an attempt for me, as well as the whole crew. Zip.

I called and got hung up on. More than once.

I dithered over driving to Jersey but I had no idea what I'd be met with. Including possibly a hostile Diane.

After the two longest weeks of my life word came in that Diane wasn't coming back. I can say the words but not convey their depth; I was angry, irate. I was depressed; any focus I had vanished. I had no clue what had happened; not definitively, there was a lot of speculation.

I got solid support from everyone, as solid as you get at that age. A select group of US showed their support by going on a three day bender with me. I still don't remember that Saturday.

And then I did something criminally stupid.

*****

Diane didn't even come back to get her stuff. It was left to Michael and Patty to pack things up, mostly the latter. I went up to her room, old room, former room, to see if Patty had heard anything more.

She'd hadn't. I was burned to my core, I'd run out of adrenaline three days earlier. She handed me a beer and went back to packing. I sat down at Di's old desk and started talking. Everything in the world came out; fears, dreams, our past, the whole lot. I cried. Throughout I wasn't paying the least bit of attention to Patty, otherwise I might have caught something. If I had just pulled my head out of my ass...

I'm going to skip ahead 'cause we all know where this is going.

One moment I'm getting a sisterly hug, the next I have Patty's tongue down my throat: she'd wrapped herself around me.

I'm in shock, there's this burst of thoughts and feelings that go through me: she's my friend of two years, we'd never had the slightest attraction to each other, she's a self-described lesbian, I've been abandoned by the love of my life who is also her roommate, and best friend, kissing her feels way too good and I "needed" it right at that moment.

I kissed her back. Hard.

A month after I first told this story, Patty and I had a five hour phone conversation about what happened. We tried several times before but we didn't know what to say to each other. We lost track. After I saw Diane that last time, I was determined to find Patty. I succeeded.

It took time, therapy and her now wife over a year of concerted effort to put it together.

Patty is bi, although she favors women over men; she didn't know it at the time. She didn't have the best self-esteem, self-image. She drowned her feelings with guys. And then she finds someone who gives a shit, big time. Patty' decides this person is the one. It's someone as important to her as Di was to me.

Beth decided to unilaterally break things off before the shit hit the fan. Rejection utterly fails to describe what Patty felt but I guess that word comes the closest. Maybe desolation is better.

All the emotions, thoughts and dreams both Patty and I had forced down and/or couldn't express escaped all at once and at speed.

One minute I'm getting kissed, the next I'm kissing back. Vigorously. We're going at it so hard we never locked the door.

We touched each other clumsily. A distant part of me, a couple of thousand miles away, drew a parallel between Patty then and Di that last night before vacation. The want, the urgency.

There was an immense amount of need in that room at that moment.

We had sex. Hard.

Thank God for the private reserve and lubricated condoms. Patty and I agreed the lack would have shut us down, allowing us to come to our senses. (A case of being responsible working against you...).

I've stalled long enough.

The memory of that night still fills me with shame. I was just flat out using my friend to vent my anger at Diane, exacting revenge on an innocent person, drowning out the emptiness.

Drive a stake through the relationship.

I hated myself.

No, it doesn't help that Patty was doing the same to me. She reverted to old habits to cope with the pain and hated herself for it. She was trying to slay her own demons.

When it ended it was like someone pulled the plug. Both of us went to the floor, wound up against the beds on either side of the room. I realized I was leaning against Di's and Patty against hers. Still partially dressed, we were naked in the truest definition of the word, breathing hard in big gasps.

We were numb. Appalled.

The look that passed between us was sorrowful, a plea for mercy.

And in that moment, without us knowing it at the time, we both forgave each other. We understood.

I reached behind me and grabbed a folded blanket waiting to be packed, moved over to Patty, wrapped her in it.

To this day I can't tell you what those five hours on the phone with Patty meant to me, meant to her. We still keep in touch to this day.

*****

"You remember our birthday party?"

The entire story I've just recounted occupied my mind for all of three seconds.

Everything buried in that grave 15 years ago slammed home in an instant. At speed.

Her voice, the way she looked in bed on a Sunday morning, holding her, her head on my wounded shoulder, the smell of fabric softener on the blanket I wrapped around Patty.

Every detail. Ever.

I could push it out of my head for fifteen years but I could never truly forget.

Why would she even ask that question out of all possible questions? It was trivial. There were so many more that demanded an answer.

How badly did I hurt you?

Were you able to get past it?

Can you ever forgive me?

I have had a problem my whole life not asking questions when I needed to. I was given a once in thirty year opportunity to speak, to understand.

"Do I remember? Yes, I do. And everything that came before and after. What happened Di? Why did you leave so irrevocably? You've had 30 years to find me and at least talk.""

"Craig, we were twenty, twenty-one, it was 30 years ago."

"You have no idea the wreckage you gifted all of us. What you did to Patty. To me. What I did because of you...."

The tone in my voice was driving, insistent, unequivocal.

I repeated myself.

"You can't just toss it off. Why did you leave?"

I could see the twenty year old Diane in her. Her words came out softly there in the middle of Walmart.

"I loved you; I wanted to be with you. But good old Catholic guilt is a powerful thing, parents fueled by it are just as powerful if not more so. If you let them. I let them.

"I was supposed to live a set of rules and I bucked the system, all for you. I clawed inch by inch some days. I stumbled. I finally got there and was good with it. And I made the mistake of telling my parents what I had. I made the mistake of standing up to them when they lost their shit. You don't know how I fought for you. But what the hell was I supposed to do? I was twenty. I had no power. We weren't as smart as we thought we were."

She might have won me over until...

"Let's be serious; were we really, truly ever in love?"

We both knew the answer.

The last part finally slid into place.

"We were in love. And what if we had stood up to your parents? Together. What if we made it work back then? Slowly, maybe, clawing inch by inch but forward. It would take work because yeah, we were young, but what if the two of us did it. Together. What if you were shopping for our daughter's shoes right now.

"We will never know.

"And I don't need to ask why you left anymore."

The next part surprised me and I was the one speaking, the intensity in my voice had dropped dramatically.

"Because I have my answer, I know why you left. And I know who you are. It was the very last thing I ever needed from you, I just didn't realize it until this exact moment.

"Thank you. We're done."

With all sincerity I added this before walking away.

"Have a good life."

*****

Postscript: I will stipulate to the standard disclaimers; this is a work of fiction, names have been changed and the like.