A Second Chance with You

Chapter 11

The bell rang signaling the end of the period. Steven glanced at his watch, 12:01 pm. KC’s classes for the day has just ended. He, on the other hand, has classes to teach until 3 pm. The attempt to speak to her alone this morning still weighed on his mind. He knew he should give her some time but he found himself hurrying out of the building to wait for her. Should I wait for her outside the building? What if she already left?

This was answered when he spotted her walking towards the gates of the university. He hesitated, then followed at a safe distance. He can’t chance being greeted again by students lest she heard. Maybe he can invite her to lunch instead. He saw her heading to the train station. He knew she moved out of her old apartment shortly after their breakup. Did she move to a nearby place instead? He hurried after her.

“KC.” He called when he’s within a few meters away.

She stopped in her tracks and turned, looking startled.

“Hi.” He said, smiling tentatively. Stopping when he’s about an arm’s length from her.

She opened her mouth but no words came out. He waited.

“Are you following me?” She asked, clearly miffed.

Oh s**t. Now she’ll think I’m a stalker. He probably is. “Yes.”

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “What do you want, Steven?”

She said my name again but she didn’t seem as angry as before, he thought hopefully.

She was waiting for him to say something. When he just continued to smile at her, her eyebrow shot up. She probably thinks he’s crazy.

“What’s so funny? I asked what you want.” She said flippantly.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you. I’m just happy you called me by my name.” He explained, trying to suppress the smile.

That caught her off guard. For a moment, it seemed she wanted to smile too. Then she recovered and rolled her eyes. She’s really cute when she does that. No matter how annoyed he was when they argue, that would always make him laugh. But he doubts she’d appreciate it if he did that now.

“You still haven’t answered my first question. What do you want?” She asked again.

“I want to invite you to lunch.” He tried to appear confident, his palms are once more sweaty and cold. He hid his hands in his pockets.

She uncrossed her arms in surprise. “What?”

“I said, I want to invite you to lunch.” He repeated, enunciating each word.

“Don’t you have a class to teach at this hour?” She shot back, confused.                                                                                            

Hm. Did she also check my schedule? “Yes. But I skipped it.”

“Why? Won’t you get in trouble for doing that?” She inquired.

So she still cares about me. “Probably. I’ll just tell them I had an emergency and had to leave for a few hours.” He answered trying to sound unconcerned.

She looked at him curiously, several questions evident on her face but she chose not to voice them.

“So, will you please have lunch with me? I already skipped a class and I’m already in trouble.” He pleaded, crossing his fingers inside his pocket.

She opened her mouth, possibly to decline but shut it again. Her head inclining to consider him quietly as he waited with bated breath. Then she nodded before looking away, he sighed in relief.

“Where do you want to eat?” He asked, giddy with happiness. Leading the way out of the train station. The familiar scent of her perfume brought back memories of them walking hand in hand. It took all his willpower not to reach out for her hand resting on the strap of her bag.

“I’m not sure.” She said, keeping pace with him, her gaze fixed ahead. “I had a sandwich this morning so I’m not that hungry. So a light lunch, maybe?”

He laughed quietly. It has always been exasperating to get her to tell him where she wants to eat. That at least did not change about her. He wondered if she still liked the things they both liked before.

She took a quick look at him and saw the grin on his face. “Why are you laughing?” She asked with a scowl.

“I just remembered that it’s wrong to ask you what you want to eat because you never know.” He replied, failing to suppress the amusement off his face.

She stopped and looked at him, visibly confused.

He stopped too, afraid that he’d gone too far. “I’m sorry. I just felt that you haven’t changed much.” He murmured, silently pleading that she won’t just turn and leave.

She remained staring at him, then shook her head looking torn. “Actually, I have changed. I’m sure you did too.”

He ignored that. “How about pancakes? And ice cream, maybe?” He suggested, trying to sound upbeat.

She looked down on her feet, then said, “I’d like that.”

He watched KC apply generous amounts of butter and maple syrup on her pancake. Sweets have always been her weakness and it seems that did not change as well. If all things fail, he had always been able to win an argument by offering to get her chocolates or ice cream.

She caught him watching with a fond smile on his face. “What?” She asked innocently.

He shook his head. “You still love your sweets.” He remarked.

Her cheeks turned red. “Yeah, well. A lot of people love sweets.”

“True, but there’s a thing called diabetes, you know.” He warned lightly.

“As far as I know, no one in my family has been diagnosed with diabetes so I’ll take my chances.” She parried confidently.

“None have been diagnosed, but that does not mean it’s not in your family.” He disagreed sliding into the familiar banter. Familiarity, he liked that.

She seemed to notice it too. Instead of responding, she shrugged ending the topic effectively.

It made him sad that she was holding back. And yet, he knew he deserved nothing from her. “It’s good to be with you like this again.” He heard himself say, watching her reaction.

She put her fork down and looked at her hands resting on the table. The urge to reach out and take them in his is almost unbearable, he kept his hands under the table.

There it is again, the guarded look on her face. It used to be so easy to talk, no matter what it was. She used to be able to tell him what’s on her mind even when she knew he might not like what he’ll hear. But then he realized, he’s also holding back.

“What are we doing, Steve?” She asked again in confusion rather than anger this time. “Shouldn’t we just avoid each other? It might be easier that way.” 

“We could.” He agreed after a pause. “However, we both know we’re not the type of people who would choose what is easy.”

The expression on her face suggests she didn’t agree with that assessment. “A lot has happened between us. I hate bringing this up, but do you remember what you told me the last time we spoke to each other?”

There was suppressed anger in her voice. He can hear the silent accusations she wanted to hurl at him. He did not need a reminder. The memory of what he said that day remains clear in his mind as though it were yesterday.

“I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. Things I regret saying.” He told her earnestly, wishing to say more but afraid of how she would react.

She stared at him incredulously. “Are you saying you broke up with me but did not want to? What are you saying exactly?”

He met her stare and said, “Yes.”

She groaned and rolled her eyes to the heavens as though asking for patience. “Yes, what? What are you saying? Why does it have to be so difficult to get you to answer me directly?”

Another constant torn in her side, he remembered with a sad smile. She always seemed to find his responses sorely inadequate and evasive. And she was right, he has never been able to tell her much about his life whenever it was brought up. 

Her expression states she seriously regretted agreeing to go with him. “You know what? Forget it. Thanks for the lunch, I must get home.” She said coldly, grabbing her bag, and getting up.

“What? No! Please, can you just stay a little longer? Can we just finish this meal instead?” He begged, his hand reaching out to hold her wrist.

She looked at his hand pointedly until he released it. Then in a sarcastic tone, she asked, “And avoid talking about the past altogether? I thought we’re not the type who would choose what’s easy?”

This is not going well at all, he thought in distress. “I’m not avoiding-- I just want to--” He stammered looking for the right words. Instead, all he came up with is, “please?”

She heaved a long suffering sigh and resumed her seat.

“Thank you.” He muttered earnestly.

“You said earlier that you wanted to talk.” She reminded him.

“I did. I mean, I do want to talk. I just--” He kept floundering, why is this so hard? “I was wondering if it’s possible to talk about us in a more private setting if that’s all right? Can’t we just enjoy each others’ company for now?”

She glanced around, looking chagrined. The restaurant is not too crowded but there are at least over a dozen customers. Crossing her arms, she turned to him. “Do you know how confusing this is? If you wanted to talk, then why did we go here?”

Why indeed. “I just-- I want us to--” Take things slowly, he wanted to say. But she cut him off.

“There is no ‘us’, Steven. You made sure of that.” She breathed contemptuously.

“And I regretted it ever since.” He exclaimed, leaning towards her.

“There is nothing you can say or do that can erase the last nine years, Steven.” She shot back, eyes blazing.

He looked down, unable to take the fury emanating from her. She was right of course. They can’t turn back time, he can’t take back what he said, but is there nothing he can do to make amends? He didn’t want to believe that.

“You’re right, I can’t erase the past.” He finally said, looking up at her trying to convey the depth of his regret. “But we can create our future. Is it too late to hope for that?”

She didn’t respond and merely continued to glare at him. He held her gaze determinedly. After a while, she looked away and picked up her fork to resume eating. He reached out for his glass of water suddenly very thirsty.

They ate in silence. He continued to watch her though she seemed determined to avoid his gaze. He missed her so much being this near is such sweet torture. She was so close he can reach out and touch her to make sure she really was here but her distant expression held him. It felt like there was a huge transparent wall between them and all he could do is watch. When she was done, she finally looked at him, her expression cold and distant.

“I’m done, thanks again. I know you have afternoon classes and I have to get home. I got work to do.”

He ignored the frostiness in her tone and replied brightly. “You’re welcome. Did you enjoy your pancakes?”

“Yes, it was good.” She answered tersely.

“Great.  So what will you do when you get home?”

“Homework. Home-based jobs.”

He ignored how her responses are getting shorter by the minute too. “That’s good. Do you live nearby?” He asked casually.

She hesitated for a second. “Yes.”

“That’s convenient. I see you’re taking the train, so you’re just a few stations away from here?” He asked trying to be subtle.

That earned a longer stretch of silence. “Yes.”

“Right.” He swallowed. “Um, which station do you get off to?” His attempts to sound casual seemed too obvious because she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“Do I have to tell you? Are you trying to get my address?” She asked back, calling him out.

“Yes.” He admitted reluctantly. “I am trying to get your address or rather I was hoping you’d let me take you home.”

“Do you remember the team meetings we had at ERT Consulting?” She asked suddenly, after considering him for a few seconds.

He frowned, unsure where this was headed. “Some of them, yes. Or it may be more accurate to say, bits of them.”

She nodded, not giving anything away. “Do you remember what we do when someone asked a question and no one knew the answer?”

He thought back for a minute, trying to remember. “Sure. We park it until the next meeting so we can look up the right answer.”

“Right.” She confirmed.

What are you thinking, KC?  “Are you saying we’re parking my question and you’ll just give me your address on our next meeting?”

“Yes and no.” She replied, face still devoid of emotion. “I’m saying we park your question until such time I decide whether I should answer it or not.”

“Oh. Of course.” He agreed, not sure what just happened.

“We really haven’t talked about anything, have we?” She asked, not quite looking at him directly.

“No. I guess we haven’t.” He replied with a sigh.

She nodded and got up to leave. “It was good seeing you, Steven.” She said, still not looking at him.

He watched her head to the door and leave the restaurant, dumbstruck. Then he attracted the attention of the waiter and paid hastily.

KC was almost halfway to the station when he caught up with her. “KC!”

She stopped and looked at him sideways. Damn, she’s so beautiful! She waited as he approached.

“Are you here to say some more cryptic remarks that don’t say anything at all?”

Cryptic? “Um… no. What do you-- I wanted to ask-- Can I get your number?” He asked incoherently.

She raised an eyebrow. “No. I don’t think so, Professor.”

Now she’s back at calling me Professor. “Right. Are we parking the question too?”

“No. I’m saying outright that you can’t have my number.” She retorted mulishly.

“I thought we decided to park the difficult questions for later discussion. How can we have that conversation if I can’t call you?” He asked reasonably.

“No. You decided you wanted to talk. I’m not sure I want to have that conversation at all.” She countered waspishly.

“Well, I do.” He replied adamantly.

“Oh, yeah? What are we going to talk about then? How you suddenly changed your mind after two years. Oh! Right, you didn’t change your mind because you never really loved me.” She said sardonically.

That was probably the longest she talked since they met again. But she was not done.

“Oh, wait! You didn’t mean to break up with me, you probably had your reasons. Well, guess what? I don’t care!” She actually threw up her arms in frustration, her voice rising with each word. A couple passing by stopped momentarily to stare at them. They ignored them.

His voice lowered in contrast. “You don’t?” He asked, hurt.

For a moment, she looked like she felt sorry for her outburst. Then she crossed her arms and said, “I don’t.”

“That’s harsh but I deserved that.” He said quietly.

“That’s not an apology, Steven.” She said in a more measured tone.

“I’m sorry.” His tone pleading and sincere.

“And?” She groaned in annoyance.

What else can I say? That I broke up with you because of my brother?

“Forget it. I’ve had enough of this for one day. I’m going home and please, please don’t follow me. I’m tired of trying to guess what it is you’re saying.”

He watched her walk away. He looked up and was surprised to see the sun overhead. He can hear the rain.