Page 45 of Later Bloom

Aubrey musters a stifled “Mhm” that catches in her throat.

“I think maybe I saw it as a reflection of myself I didn’t want to look at. I’ve messed up a lot, I did the dating thing in high school, and then university, and I went through all those mistakes and it was so weird sitting there with you, who’s done none of it. It’s like you’re a blank slate, and all I could think sitting there was how many issues I’d accumulated, and how I couldn’t bring myself to pull you into this. I don’t think I’m the right fit to be anyone’s first. Like I wouldn’t be good enough, or—or why would I risk being the first one to ever hurt you?”

“You think because I’ve never been someone’s girlfriend, I’ve never been hurt?” She watches him very closely. The balls on him.

“I just mean—it scared me to meet someone who’s never gone through what I’ve been through. I’m not saying I was right, I’m just putting into words the why. It was like you were this perfect person who’d never done any wrong, who still had the best chance at getting it right.” His eyes are wide and lost. His breath suggests he’s had a drink or five. “I don’t know, fuck. You were just too much for me, Aubrey. You were too much in how little you’d been through. It was like you were trying to prove something by waiting so long, as if you’re better than other people.”

“I never said that.”

“I know, but it was there. It messed with my head and I kept thinking somehow you were trying to show everyone you wouldn’t get it wrong, like we all do.”

“But ’we’ don’t all go through it, is what I’ve been trying to tell you.” Two people to her left turn in Aubrey’s direction when she speaks. She lowers her voice a little. “It’s not everyone. It’s me and a lot of other people, and that’s just the point. I never said there was any wrong or right. I just want everyone to care less. I wasn’t trying to make a statement. I mean, Jesus. I’m begging to get it wrong, at this point.”

His mouth has grown tight, his eye averted. “You have to see how easy it is to feel the way I do.”

“But I don’t! And I didn’t sit there for years and plan out this perfect social commentary on modern dating. None of it was on purpose, it was just something that kept happening to me, and I kept getting older, and I never thought of it as fifteen years, or twenty years, or twenty-five years, except in moments like these, talking to you.” Aubrey notices then how very little she knows this man. “I felt we had a nice time. I didn’t question anything, because you seemed open, and interested, and for some reason I thought, oh, surely he must get it.”

“I tried to.”

“No, I know. It’s fine.” It’s such a weird thing to internalize, this realization that you don’t know what anyone’s thinking, not really. Aubrey says, “Thanks for telling me this.”

Raphael seems hesitant. “Really?”

“Sure.” She busies herself looking for somewhere to sit. The cold lingers on the back of her neck. To the air, she says, “At least I don’t have to wonder anymore.”

“I mean, no offense, really, but I didn’t think it was that memorable, between you and me.”

This nearly makes her laugh. She says, “I mean about everyone. I don’t have to wonder what it is about me that could ever seem so scary. How people justify this as a reason to deem me uninteresting. Now I know.”

“You’re not uninteresting.” Raphael’s breath swirls by his nose when he speaks. “It’s just, it’s more than not wanting to hurt you and whatnot. Or feeling like you’re trying to prove to everyone how much better you happen to be.”

“I’m not trying—”

“There’s just also the fact that you could change your mind. It’s so rare, finding your person on the first try. Everyone messes up and realizes that something’s not right for them. It’s how the odds go. So what if you get with someone, and then after a while you get bored, or you wonder what else is out there, and—I’m just saying, no one’s content with only one person their whole life.”

Aubrey finds nothing to say then, which makes her more angry than anything. She mouths syllables that lead nowhere. Raphael adds, “I know you’re thinking you might be special, and you could get it right in one go. I’m just saying, it’s a big risk to take.”

“I’m a big risk to take?”

“I know it sounds bad.”

“Couldn’t you have just said we weren’t a good fit? Isn’t that what it is, at the end of the day?”

“It could be. Yeah.”

“I’d prefer if it was. Then maybe I wouldn’t feel like I’m entirely unlovable and doomed to end my days alone.”

“It’s not what I meant to say. It’s—well, shit.” He pulls a face, like something’s just dawned on him. “It does sound like that, doesn’t it?”

“You know what’s frustrating about you? You’re kind of an asshole, but kind of not.”

He smiles a little. The air is brisk and people around them have lost interest. Aubrey finds it fascinating that he remains amused, even now. She regrets the latter part of that sentence already.

“Okay, yeah,” Raphael says, with a small nod.

“Like, you’re aware that what you’re saying is shitty, but you’ve yet to learn not to say it.”

“Yeah.”