I’ve calmed down a bit after a few minutes and end up in the bathroom, gently dabbing at my face with a tissue, being careful not to ruin my makeup. Bronx nuzzles at my side; he always tries to be affectionate when he sees that I’m upset. I kneel down on the bathroom floor and put an arm around him.

“Oh, Bronx. You’re lucky you’re a dog,” I say, sniffling and he grumbles his response. Just then, the doorbell rings and, for a second, I imagine Brian running back to tell me that he’s not letting me leave and we’ll live happily ever after until I realize what time it is. Shit, Christian. I stand to my feet and quickly collect myself. Feeling flustered, I check my face in the mirror before answering the door.

Christian is standing on my porch, looking quite handsome in black slacks and a grey trench coat. Despite the rollercoaster ride of emotions I’ve just been on, I manage a smile on my face. “Hi, Christian. Just a second, I’ll just grab my purse and a jacket then I’ll be out.”

He nods and gives me his mega-watt grin. “You look great, London.”

I blush at this and disappear into my bedroom to grab my stuff. I give Bronx one last pet on the head before I head out with Christian. He drives a white pick-up truck – typical for an Albertan – and I’m reminded of the time Brian hit me with his door in a white pick-up truck. Get out of my head.

“London?”

 I snap out of it and realize that he’s been talking this whole time. “Sorry?”  God, pay attention!

“I asked if The Keg is alright with you,” he says, glancing at me quickly before looking back out onto the road.

“Oh, yes,” is my feeble reply. I feel bad that I’m being such a lame date and force my mind to focus on the present. Don’t think of Brian, don’t think of Brian. But it’s hopeless – he’s consumed my every thought.

By the time we’re seated and ordered at the restaurant, I can tell that Christian is trying very hard to strike up a conversation but my weak responses have left him quiet for a bit. Guilt strikes me and I try to make an attempt at a conversation myself.

“So, Christian… how do you like living in Banff so far?”

“It’s different,” he replies, the light from the candle in the middle of the table bouncing off his eyes. “Very different from living in a busy city like Calgary. I like it though – simple.”

I nod. “I know what you mean.” It goes quiet again and I shift uncomfortably. Great. For someone who hasn’t been on a real date in so long, I’m totally blowing it.

“Do you think you’ll ever move back out to Vancouver?” he asks.

“I do think about it sometimes, but I’ve gotten so accustomed to this lifestyle.” I play with the napkin on the table in front of me. “I love Vancouver, it’s where I grew up. But being back there for a week and experiencing the traffic and busy city life again, I craved for the peace and quiet I have here.” I also missed Brian like crazy.

“Yeah, when I was in Calgary, I was stuck in rush hour traffic and it was so foreign to me. Even though I’ve only lived here for a few months, I’ve totally forgotten how it feels like to take an hour to get to your destination in the same city.”

I laugh quietly. “Yeah.” Ugh, another feeble reply. Our food comes then and I’m grateful for the distraction. I realize that after all of the crying and emotional outburst, I’ve developed quite the appetite. My stomach rumbles at the sight of steak with sautéed mushrooms and onions.

We’re silent again for a moment as we both start on our plates. “London,” he speaks up and I look up at him mid chew. “Are you alright? I feel like there’s something bothering you.”

“Not at all,” is my instant reply, a defense mechanism that I’ve picked up trying to hide my feelings from people. I sigh and put my fork down. This isn’t fair to Christian, and I know it. “Yes.” I close my eyes for a few seconds, trying to think of what to say. “I just had a huge argument with Brian.”

“Your neighbour with the Ferrari?” He’s stopped eating now and is listening to me intently.

I nod. “Yeah… that one.”

“What happened?”

“Well, to be honest, we sort of had a thing.” And then, because I haven’t talked to anyone about Brian – not even Linda, everything spills out of me like a fountain. “Not really a thing… actually, I don’t even know what to call it but he kept saying that he can’t go any farther with me, relationship wise. He kept going on about not wanting to put me in danger and all of this stuff, but somehow I don’t buy it. It all escalated tonight when I told him that I was going on a date with you. He literally flipped out. Basically, he’s left me confused and pretty upset… and I guess, completely failing at this date because that’s all I can seem to think of.” I take a deep breath and wait for his reaction.

“Wow…” he says slowly. “Sounds like a pretty heavy emotional situation for you.”

“It is.”

“I’m sorry if I was the cause of it.”

A flood of regret suddenly washes over me and I feel even worse for Christian receiving the butt end of this whole mess. “No, Christian. I’m sorry for not even being mentally or emotionally here right now. You don’t deserve that,” I say sincerely. “Please don’t feel like you had any part of what happened tonight.”

“It sounds like a very confusing time for you.”

I nod. “It is.” I pick at my steak and let out a small sigh.

“Did he ever let you know what type of danger you were in just by associating yourself with him?” he asks.

“No. He was always just so cryptic about everything.”

“Now this guy has you all messed up.” He gazes at me, contemplating my situation. “I really hate to say this but, just because I know it would complicate things more for you and you deserve better – I don’t think you and I are a good idea.” Then he gives me a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “For now, at least.”

I’m taken by surprise at this, but I appreciate that he’s taken it into consideration. Most guys I’ve come across would take this as an opportunity to get their foot in the door and take advantage of a girl’s vulnerability. “I agree,” I say. “Thank you for understanding.”

“I’ll admit though, I’ve liked you for a while now,” he tells me with a small, shy laugh. “I mean, you’re beautiful and intelligent. I guess the timing’s just a little off.”

I smile, appreciating his honesty. “Christian, trust me when I say that if this was a few months earlier, I would be more than interested.”

“Damn. I knew I should’ve applied for summer season.”

I laugh and begin to relax a little, relieved that we had at least established common ground. “Friends?” I say, grinning and reaching out my hand to him.

“Oh, bffs girl,” he replies in a joking tone and we both laugh as we shake on it.

-       Brian’s POV

I wipe the sweat off my forehead with a towel after letting off some steam on the pull up bar. I have never completed so many angry chin ups in five minutes, but it’s at least calmed me down somewhat. I shrug on a shirt over grey sweats and chug a full bottle of water, taking a seat at the dining table and trying to calm my emotions. She’s out right now – with him. They’re probably having a grand old time, him putting the charm on her and she… she’s doesn’t even give a fuck about what we have. Or had. Whatever it was. I groan in frustration and stare at the water bottle to try and distract my thoughts from going where it shouldn’t be. Nestle Spring Water. I read, desperate for a diversion. Packaged in London, Ontario. London. London. Christian. A wave of sadness fills me and I squeeze the bottle in my hand before throwing it at the wall where it makes a small mark before cluttering to the ground.

Despite all of this – her leaving me, being out on a date with Christian – I can’t blame her. I know she deserves better than me. She knows she deserves better than me. It’s all of my fucked-upness. Jessica, Rooney – they’re to blame for this, all of this. Fuck. I want out. I need out. I slam my fist down on the dining room table, frustration and anger – white, hot anger – threatening to get the best of me. She left. My London left. I can’t kiss her, I can’t hold her, I can’t touch her… I can’t even hear her soft spoken voice or laughter; music to my ears. My heart constricts and I feel the hurt, raw and real. You don’t deserve her.

I’m pulled out of my reverie by the sound of a car parking in front of the house and a door closing shut. I stand up and walk to the window to peak out, careful not to be seen. There’s a white pick-up truck parked just across the street and my heart drops to my stomach when I see London getting out of it. Christian is at her side and they’re walking up to her porch. I swallow, trying to fight the ridiculous lump in my throat. This disgusts me, and I have the sudden urge to give him a good punch to the face. I notice my breathing going heavier as they reach her door and they stop to face each other.

Please, London. Please don’t kiss him. Please. For the sake of my already fucked up heart.

I shouldn’t look. It’s going to kill me to see what’s about to take place, this I know. But I can’t seem to pull myself away from the window. She reaches into her bag to retrieve her house keys and I momentarily panic at the thought of him being invited inside. She opens the door and walks into the house before giving Christian a final wave goodbye. Relief floods over me as the door closes and he walks down the steps, climbs into his truck, and drives away.

Oh, thank God.

There was nothing. Not even a hug, small peck on the cheeks. Nothing. Despite the hurt that I feel, I can’t help but smile at this. I know it’s a selfish thought but I don’t think my heart can handle anymore right now. To see the woman I love kiss another man would be pure torture. The woman I love. Yes… I love her.