Saturday morning, we went down to the beach for breakfast.
We had breakfast at a lovely place. We walked around a bit, wandered—it was a calm and pleasant day.
From time to time, Chris would show me pictures of his house and invite me over. I remember really liking the rug on the floor.
Years later, when Chris still wasn't married, that same rug pattern would show up again.
A woman—who constantly liked and commented on Chris's photos on social media—would post a photo on her own page, from a house that looked just like his, with a similar rug.
She'd be standing on that rug, holding a cake.
I don't know why I'm remembering this now.
We've really been through a lot, haven't we?
It's not easy—between 2005 and 2018, we were constantly in touch, always seeing each other.
Until we both got married the same year—but to different people.
Chris, if only you knew… I'm feeling so many conflicting emotions right now.
Everything was always so connected between us.
Is it too late to think about all this now?
And is it not unfair—to me?
Anyway, back to reality.
We got tired after talking about going to the movies and decided to head home.
You said you wanted to pick up a bottle of wine, so we stopped by a store on the way.
You bought that bitter wine again.
Even though I kept saying I liked fruity wines, you always bought the bitter ones.
When we got home, you took a shower first, then I did.
Chris said he wanted to dry my hair himself. I didn't say anything.
I sat in front of him. He brushed my hair and then dried it.
We opened the wine, turned on the TV, watched random things.
Chips, popcorn, wine…
I think that's where everything started to break.
While drinking, I told him about Felix.
I even said I had slept with him.
Why I made such a stupid move, I'll never understand.
Chris never told me anything like that—
Even when we were talking as friends, he never shared anything about his love life.
I knew he probably had someone in his life at the time.
Was he afraid that if I knew, I'd completely walk away?
Or was he just not willing to open up?
After the Felix conversation, he only kissed me, held me close, and said,
"I missed you."
Nothing more.
Maybe he was hurt, but didn't show it.
Maybe he didn't care about me at all—maybe he was saying,
"Do whatever you want."
Maybe to him, I was just passing time.
But if you don't love me, why do you come all this way to see me?
I know there are plenty of people where you live—
people you can casually sleep with or flirt with.
Where did we go wrong?
I still don't understand.
That night, because of the wine, we both slept peacefully till morning.