Red Running Shoes - 19. Decisions, Decisions

I was walking along the fence of the old swim stadium, looking for a hole big enough for me to get inside. When I finally found one, I widened the wire mesh some more and climbed through to the other side.

It had been years since I was last there. The outdoor pools were filled with even more junk than I remembered, left behind by partying kids, or people who wanted to get rid of their old crap. Rickety camp chairs surrounded remains of bonfires, and pieces of broken glass crunched under my feet as I headed for the old diving tower. I thought back to the many times I’d been there with my friends, partying until the wee hours of the morning.

Sometimes though, it had just been Eric and me. We roasted marshmallows over the fire, drank beer, and felt so cool. I grinned when I remembered my first can. It had been cheap stuff and tasted revolting but of course I couldn’t admit that.

Whatever happened with Eric, back then he’d been the best friend and best boyfriend I could have wished for.

But I wasn’t there to think of old times, but to make a decision.

When I found the old diving tower still standing, I was relieved. With the warm coat, the long scarf wrapped around my neck, the hat plus hoodie over my head, and a thermos with hot chocolate in my pocket, I started to climb. I was equipped for a long cold night up there.

The first thing I did when I reached the platform was leaning against the railing taking in the sight: nothing but flickering city lights on one side, farmland on the other, and the stars above me. Exactly as I remembered it.

Finally I lowered myself onto a thick piece of cardboard a previous nighttime stargazer must have left behind. I took my phone out and switched it off. Then poured myself the first of several cups of hot cocoa. Closing my eyes I breathed in its comforting scent before I took a small sip. It was time. Time to do what I had come for.

Make a decision.

***

"That’s the last one," Chris panted, while letting the heavy moving box glide through his hands until it landed on the kitchen floor with a thud. "What’s in this box Michael, your gold reserves?"

Michael looked at him sheepishly. "Nah, only my cast iron pots."

"Aha." Chris took a big gulp out of the water bottle he had stolen from me. “I'm going to take the van back to the car rental place now. What about I get us some food afterwards? Any preferences? Pizza, Chinese, Japanese or Mexican?"

"I don't care as long as it isn't Japanese."

Michael threw me a compassionate gaze before he shrugged. “Pizza?”

"All right, I want pizza too. For you with everything that doesn't fly, walk, or swim, right Jonah?" Of course Chris had to accentuate the ‘fly’, ‘walk’, and ‘swim’ accordingly.

I rolled my eyes. "Yup.”

After Chris had left, Michael peered at the boxes piled up along the wall. "So, what do you think? Do we start looking for plates or cutlery?"

"Nah, we're gonna have pizza. We can eat it right out of the box and just use our natural forks.” I waggled my fingers. “Maybe we should look for the paper towels though. And then we take care of your bedroom. You don’t really want to use that sleeping bag over there. Right?"

“Now that you’re mentioning it…”

It was a bit difficult to figure out where everything went, but with the help of the slightly cryptic instruction manual it didn’t take us long to put the bed frame together. Michael had finally found his sheets in one of the duffle bags in the hall, when Chris came back with three delicious smelling pizza boxes in his arms.

"Pizza service! Come on guys, I'm starving. Do you have any paper napkins, Michael?"

"Mmm, that looks really good.” I took in a deep breath. “And it smells even better.”

“Shit, I forgot the beer! Jonaaaah ….I brought some from the pizza place, but I left it in the car." Chris looked at me pleadingly.

“Why me?” Making a show of gulping down a large amount of saliva, I went to get the beer. "It’s your fault if I drool all over Michael's new floor and the stairs…"

"Ew! Try at least not to drop the beer if you slip on it. Okay?"

"Guys, could you stop this please, too many details…." Michael actually looked a bit green, obviously really disgusted with us.

When I got back from the car, I passed everybody their bottle then grabbed my pizza box. “If someone else needs something, get it yourself.”

For several minutes we didn’t talk but enjoyed our well-earned dinner. Finally sated, Chris leaned back against the wall, beer bottle in one hand, his other resting on his belly. “That was good.” He burped. "So Jonah, spill. What are you going to do about your love triangle?" Then he mouthed to Michael, ‘Threesome…’

"Chris! Really?” Michael set his beer down with a thud. “Is it too much to ask that you wait until Jonah has finished his food before playing twenty questions? Or God forbid, even until he is ready to tell us on his own?"

"It's okay, Michael." Suddenly not hungry anymore, I set the pizza carton beside me on the floor. "Okay. Last night I was at the old stadium…"

"The diving tower? Your favorite thinking place?" Michael smiled at me.

"Exactly. I filled a thermos with hot chocolate, switched my phone off, put some warm clothes on, and enjoyed a spectacular view." I stared at the floor in front of me, sorting through last night’s reasoning.

Chris cleared his throat. "Yes?”

“It really was spectacular.”

Michael groaned. “And? What did you decide?"

"I decided to let them both go."

Nobody said a word.

Eventually I had to look up. Michael nodded at me. "I knew it."

At the same time Chris exclaimed, "No! You can't be serious, Jonah!"

I couldn’t sit down any longer. I got up and started to pace. "Can't you understand? I really can't do this anymore. I feel like an asshole. Being with Sandro, but still loving Ren feels like I'm cheating on Sandro. Breaking up with Sandro, although I love him, to be with Ren again? It's exactly the same. So, quite apart from the fact that I don’t know if Ren even wants me back, no matter what I do, somebody will get hurt."

"That's right. But with your decision you get hurt for certain. Way to go!" Chris jumped up from the floor too.

"I can't do the right thing for all of us, Chris. But…with me out of the way, at least they can move on. To love means to put their happiness above mine. Right?"

Chris stared at me and then suddenly wrapped me firmly into his arms. "You're an idiot."

"Tell me something new." For a short moment I leaned my head against his, breathing in his familiar scent, then I stepped back.

"So, all that’s left is to tell them.” Chris handed me another beer.

“Yeah.”

“Which won’t be a walk in the park.”

“No.”

“And afterwards? What are you going to do? Are you coming home now?”

"After I’ve talked to Ren, I have to go back to Sicily. I promised Sandro to tell him face to face, no matter what my decision was. I also have to talk to Rick and Matteo. I need to explain everything to them, thank them for their help, and say a proper goodbye I think. But then I'll come back, yes."

***

The next two weeks Chris and I helped Michael get settled in his new apartment. The whole time they acted more like friends than ex-lovers. When I asked Michael about it, he said maybe they never had been real lovers, but only friends with benefits, which I personally found rather sad. I so wished for Michael to finally find the ‘one’. If there was anyone who deserved that, it was him.

Another point on my list was talking to Ren and as much as I wished I didn’t have to do this, I knew I had to in order to give us all a chance to eventually move on. So one afternoon I pressed speed dial number one for the last time and waited.

Ren answered after the first ring. “Jonah.”

I had to do this fast as not to lose my nerve. “Hey, Ren. Could you meet me at Michael’s new apartment? I need to talk to you.”

There was a pause, then he said slowly, “When?”

I felt cold sweat running down my back. “At three?”

“Okay.”

I rattled down the address and then quickly hung up, slowly releasing my death grip on the phone.

***

When the doorbell rang right on time, my hands shook so hard I could barely turn the knob. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

We stared at each other for what felt like minutes, before I finally remembered to step aside so he could come in. “Let’s go into the kitchen.”

“Michael moved into the same complex where you had your old apartment.”

“Yes. He met the landlord when he was looking after my stuff and they started talking. When he heard Michael needed a new place he offered him this apartment.”

“Didn’t he live with Chris?”

“They aren’t together anymore.”

“Oh…I’m sorry to hear that.”

“So am I.” I went over to the coffee machine. “Coffee?”

“Please. Black.”

When I put the mug down in front of Ren, my hand was still trembling.

Shit!

He saw it too, but to my great relief he didn’t comment. I grabbed my own mug in both hands and took a sip. Every word I had rehearsed with Michael was gone. My mind was blank.

And then Ren asked, “So, you want to talk? Again?”

Fucker!

But for whatever reason it made me smile inwardly.

Strange.

“Honestly? No. I don’t want to talk to you. I want to be as far away from here as I can.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. But there has been so much misunderstanding and talking through other people – and we both know how well that went – I guess I can’t have what I want. Okay.” I swallowed, not that it helped. My throat still felt constricted and my mouth was suddenly dry. “I’m returning home.”

I couldn’t look into his face, so I stared at his hands holding the coffee. They were trembling too.

“With…with your Italian…boyfriend?”

“No. Sandro stays in Italy.”

“What? But--”

I shook my head. “My relationship with Sandro isn’t something I will discuss with you.”

“But you aren’t together anymore.”

“No.” Our eyes met and thought I saw something that couldn’t be true. “This may be presumptuous, because you never said that you’re even thinking about…”

Shit, I’m doing this all wrong.

“That we…that…”

He leaned forward, his hands flat on the tabletop. “That we could try again?”

“Yes. That’s what I wanted to say.”

Damn. Get a grip, Jonah! Say it!

“I can’t be in a relationship right now. Neither with you, nor with Sandro or anyone else. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Even though I’ll be living here again, I can’t see you, meet you, or have any contact at all with you.”

“But why? We could—”

After everything that had happened, he wanted to try again. I couldn’t have that. “No. We can’t. Just forget me. Okay? Move on. Find someone who can be all those things I cannot.”

“But…”

“No. Ren. No. My decision stands.” I could barely breathe, it hurt so much. It was the right thing to do. “This is not up for debate.”

“It’s because of what I did at the café. Right? That I purposely hurt you, although I promised I would never do that.”

“No. That was the reason I ran away, why I didn’t want to talk to you, and why I thought I could move on. It has nothing to do with my decision to cut off any contact with you now.” At least not much. Because yes, it still hurt.

I won’t ever forget how it felt to look into his eyes while I crushed all his hope. I'd seen him sad and even lost, but never like this.

Ren’s left hand clasped around the bracelets and I thought he would rip them off, but he didn’t. “I will respect your wishes. It’s the least I can do, but Jonah, believe me when I say how very sorry I am and how much I regret what I did.” Then he left the apartment without looking back and I finally deleted speed dial number one.

The thought of having to do this all over again with Sandro made me sick. But I had said I was done with running and I had meant it, so the next day I booked a flight back to Sicily.

Matteo picked me up at the airport. “How did it go? Did you talk to Ren?”

“Whoa! Let me first talk to Sandro. Okay?”

“Sandro is in Milan.”

“What? But he said–”

“And I have a letter for you.”

“Shit!”

As soon as we arrived at the restaurant Matteo asked me to follow him into his office, where he gave me the letter. I went into the garden and sat down at my usual place.

Jonah,

First of all, I love you so much.

It's been three days since you went home and I miss you already. But now that you’re not here, I was finally able to think some more about what I want, no, what I need from you.

You said you love me. And I believe you. My problem is you still love Ren.

I don’t want to compete with him or anxiously wait to see if you will leave me eventually. I want to be sure you're mine. I don't know if our love could last a lifetime, I'd like to think that way though. But for as long as we are together, I need you to be mine, only mine.

I am going to Milan. Daniele and Luca convinced me to come and install ‘Naked Men with Hats’ at our shop. I'll be there for a week at least. If you want, come to our opening party. Or just wait for me in Agrigento. If you decide to be with Ren, or even if you are still undecided, please don't contact me anymore. This might sound egotistical and self-centered, but this uncertainty is killing me.

I love you.

Sandro

I didn't know if I should be relieved or disappointed. I hadn’t been looking forward to this conversation but I would have preferred to explain the reasons for my decision in person. Instead, I had to call Sandro and tell him on the phone. The conversation was as painful as I had expected it.

The phone rang long before he finally answered it. “Jonah.”

“Hey.”

“Did you read the letter?”

“Yes.”

“But you’re not coming to Milan.”

How did he know that?

“No.”

“You’re back with him.”

“No! No Sandro, I’m not.” I suddenly hated to be on the phone, and not be able to see his face, to touch him. “I told Ren the same thing I’m going to tell you. I can’t be in a relationship with either of you. It wouldn’t be right. Like you said, I’m not fully yours, nor am I his.” I desperately needed him to understand me. “I didn’t know, Sandro. Honestly. I wouldn’t have…I never…It felt right, you and me – we felt right.”

“But we don’t anymore.”

“No, because I can’t give you what you want, what you need – what you deserve.”

“I knew there was a chance that this could happen. It’s not as if you have kept your past a secret. You were honest with me, Jonah. Maybe it was me…maybe I was chasing a dream.”

“Sandro…”

Shit!

“Goodbye, Jonah. I wish you luck.” And with that he hung up.

Shit!

I stayed for a few more days in Sicily, and again Matteo had been a godsend. He listened to me patiently for hours while I explained to him why I did what I did, and soothed my bouts of nerves, but what helped the most was that he not only agreed with me, but wholeheartedly supported my reasoning and my decisions, even towards Rick, who hadn’t exactly been happy with me at first.

Eventually though, I had to pack the rest of my stuff, and say goodbye to them. It felt good that I knew they had understood my reasons and they hoped I would be happy again someday.

***

When I got out of the airport, Michael was already waiting for me. Leaning against his beat up car, he held a…leash? I looked down and I saw a black fur ball with brown legs, chewing happily on a bright green rubber bone.

I raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you have a dog? I always thought you were more of a cat person."

He grinned. "I am. Let me introduce you. Jonah, this is dog-with-no-name-yet number five. He has four brothers and three sisters.” Then he gave a short whistle. “Dog-with-no-name-yet number five, this is Jonah who is in dire need of a faithful friend and true companion.” Number five yipped and then looked at me, as if he’d just understood what Michael had said.

“I borrowed him from a friend. If you agree, we could visit later today or tomorrow and you can pick the one you like the most. My treat.”

“I don’t know what to say. A dog...”

“I couldn’t let you live all by your lonesome, now could I?"

"No?"

"No. And you are a dog person. You always said you wanted one to go running with you.”

“Sox."

"Come again?"

"The dog. I'll call him Sox. His brown legs look like he's wearing tube socks."

“You don’t even want to look at the others?”

I went down to let Sox sniff at my hand. He made loud yipping noises and then licked my face. “No.”

“Okay. Sox it is.” Michael took my bag and gave me the leash. “Sox, this is Jonah your can opener. He likes running but he’s done with running away.”

That left only one last thing to do. When we passed a tram overhead power line, I touched Michael’s arm. “Could you stop here for a moment?”

“Sure.” He stopped the car at the curb. “Why?”

“You’ll see.” I rummaged around in my bag until I found my red running shoes, tied them together, and got out of the car. When no one was looking, I threw them up high enough, so that the laces wrapped themselves around the cable.

Michael grinned. “Sure you don’t need them anymore?”

“Definitely.”

This was the last chapter of RRS. The epilogue will be posted next Saturday.
I'd like to thank 'the one who must not be named' this time. You were a great help.
If you like you can join us in the RRS discussion thread.