Coda 05 -Paris a to Z

him well enough to know that. “I want for us to be able to see each other without so much pain.”
“Id like that too,” I said. “I just seem to have a harder time with it than you.” He nodded, and for a moment there was only silence. I hesitated, debating how much to say. It was hard, but it seemed that this was my chance to finally set things right. I knew if I let it pass me by, Id regret it in the end. “I dont know how you can not hate me,” I finally said.
“I never did,” he said, shaking his head. “It might have been easier if I had. I wished for a long time that things had been different.”
“I feel terrible about the way it ended,” I said, “and the things I did.”
He waved his hand at me dismissively, although the pain in his eyes belied his casual gesture. “It was twelve years ago.”
“That doesnt excuse it.”
He sighed heavily. “I know. Im not saying it does. But I spent a long time looking back. A long time.”
“Im sorry about that.”
“Dont be. Its part of what got me where I am today.”
“Im not sure that excuses it either.”
He thought about that for a moment, then he stepped closer. We were close to the same height, but with me sitting on the back of the couch, I had to look up to meet his eyes. “You know that Robert Frost quote, „the best way out is always through? I finally know what that means, Zach. Looking back doesnt get you anywhere. For the first time in twelve years, Im looking forward. And I like what I see.”
“Can you ever forgive me?”
He put his hand on the back of my neck, his fingers in my hair, his thumb brushing my cheek. After twelve years apart, it was a gesture that was still heartbreakingly familiar. “I already did.” He stopped, hesitated, much as I had done. Like he was trying to decide how much to say. And like me, he apparently decided that this was the best opportunity we would ever have. “We loved each other so much, Zach,” he said quietly. “Sometimes Im still not sure how we let it go so wrong.”
“It was my fault—”
“It wasnt.” He shook his head. “Not yours alone, at any rate.”
“If only I had talked to you—”
“If only I had let you live your life the way you wanted to live it, you wouldnt have felt the need to push me away.”
That hit home—the fact that he knew what he had done. Maybe he hadnt known back then, but he did now. I felt a lump form in my throat, and my voice was shaky when I said, “I wanted so much to be good enough for you.”
“You were,” he said quietly. “Im sorry I didnt realize it.”
“Jonathan….” My voice was thick with unshed tears, and I fought hard to keep them from forming. I had a feeling if I allowed myself to start crying now, Id never stop. “Im so sorr—”
“Shh,” he said, and his thumb brushed my lips. “No more apologies. It doesnt matter anymore. I have what I want, and you have what you want. You need to stop looking back at what we lost. I finally learned to let it go, Zach, and I think its time you did the same.”
The lump in my throat threatened to choke me. My voice failed me completely. I could only nod.
“Take care of Angelo,” he said, “and let him take care of you.” His eyes darted to my lips, and I realized what he was going to do only a second before it happened. I closed my eyes. And I didnt stop him.
It wasnt erotic or romantic. But that brief kiss—his hand holding the back of my neck, the still-familiar softness of his touch, and the trembling of his breath against my lips—was one of the most powerful moments of my life.
It was closure.
I hadnt realized until the moment he gave it to me how much I had needed it. He let me go, and I sat there, eyes closed, my whole body shaking, until I heard the hotel room door close. When I opened them again, Angelo was there, waiting.
I couldnt even face him. I knew hed be upset or jealous. Part of me knew I should be jumping up to reassure him. But I just didnt have the strength. I put my head in my hands and asked, “How much did you see?” I was fighting hard to get myself together.
“Enough,” he said. But there was no anger in his voice. No accusation. I heard him cross the room to stand in front of me. I was afraid to look at his face. I was afraid of what I might find there. He put his hand on my shoulder. Just that tiny touch, so soft and yet so understanding. I was still sitting on the back of the couch, and I slowly looked up into his eyes. I saw only compassion.
“Im so