Homecoming

Army was a little aloof to this point, and Amy had prepared for that. But that sigh was so bitter, so frigid, that Amy could feel her body heat withdraw from her extremities- even from where her hand met Army’s- and retreat deep into her core. Amy tensed up (she would have squeezed his hand if it hadn’t hidden itself deep inside Army’s pockets), and her body went on high alert, as though she’d walked into an ambush.

But consciously, Amy wasn’t sure how to react to his sudden rejection. She tried to laugh a little, as if Army were joking. But she could tell he wasn’t, and the smile she wore faltered.

“Well, I did,” She said uncertainly. Her hand, still floating out in space, drifted awkwardly back to join its sister on her lap. “Hey, are you mad at me?”

Was Army mad at Amy? He knew he wanted to be. He thought he should’ve been. But her voice was so soothing, the look in her face so sweet and genuine, every move she made seemed to mess with his head and tug at him and made him want to just go over and embrace. Not even a kiss. Just a hug would do.

And, yet, he stayed on the seat, hands deep in his pockets. ”I mean, you tell me.” He managed to look at her for all of one second, before he was forced to look away. ”’Three months. Three months, you said.” He held up three fingers, as if the visual was needed. ”Back by Valentine’s Day, right? Valentine’s Day, came and went, not here. Valentine’s Day, came and went again...not here.” He ran a hand over his face, exasperated, needing a moment to form more.

”So, yeah, fuck, I guess I’m a little mad. It’s not like a game, it’s not like you can just press pause on me, then walk off for fifteen months, then come back and it’s all good.”

How could saying something feel so good and bad at the same time?

Army didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t throw up his hands, pace the floor, or break things. He just sat, hands in his pockets, and talked. And Amy just sat, hands in her lap, and watched.

Oh, wow. He was so mad.

She could hear it in the way that the words tumbled out of him, like soda from a shaken can. This was more than just an airing of grievances; it was release, catharsis, a chance to finally get off his chest the feelings he’d been bottling up for over a year. It hurt to let out, but she knew the tremble she saw in his shoulders was from more than just anger; it was relief. If their places were switched, she’d be crying right now.

When he finished, there was a deafening silence in the room. The heat that had escaped her just a moment ago found her all at once, weighing down on her head, neck, and shoulders like bags of hot ash until she could hear a buzz from the pressure. And still he refused to look at her, jaw set, eyes stuck on the same point on the floor, just waiting to hear her response.

The silence crushed down on the pair for a beat. Then another. When she finally started speaking again, it was in a slow, cautious voice, since she didn’t really know what to say. “Wow...okay.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Have you just been sitting here mad at me for over a year? Since we broke up?”

The silence was the worst part. He felt like he’d practicing that little speech for months without knowing it, going over it time and again in his consciousness, even getting to rehearse it with the occasional dream, and now here Amy was. Didn’t have to pretend. Didn’t have to hide. Just let it all out in one go. No problems, no regrets.

There was a problem, though. He knew what to say, sure, but how would she react? What would she do now? Would she yell back at him, go storming off? It’s not like she was ever going to beg or plead for them to get back together. There was no universe where Amy Poford begged or pleaded for anything. Just not her way.

He was almost relieved when she finally spoke up and let them move on. Things were still awkward, but not so bad that he was stuck in time. ”Not just this chair, no. Sat in others.” He finally managed to turn enough to give her a sidelong glance. ”What do you expect me to say? Because this isn’t going the way you thought it would, can see that, so what did you think was going to happen? You’d just show up and,” He snapped his fingers. ”Just like that, we’d be going at it?”

Goddamn it, throwing it out there made him want to do it.

“Kinda, yeah,” she replied without thinking. And, knowing what she did now, she instantly felt like a complete asshole.

It was Amy's turn to break eye contact. There was just too much tension in the space between them; Amy had to stand up. Her nervous energy was narrowing her vision and making her dizzy. She took a few steps left, a few steps right, shook out a leg- it was too hot all of a sudden- but with nowhere really to go, she just sat right back down and locked eyes again.

Her arms opened up. Amy usually spoke quickly, but her words spilled out even faster now. “Dude, I had no idea. The last time we talked, it seemed like everything was fine. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Should Army have felt sort of objectified to hear Amy say that? He kind of felt like he should’ve felt that way, but then, he kind of felt like maybe he’d be about the same way if the positions were switched. To be honest, if he wasn’t so mad, they’d almost certainly be at it right now, and he’d be all for that. Just thinking about it left him stirring.

He shifted about in the seat as Amy paced, knowing that was about the only way to make that adjustment without her taking note, and crossed his leg when she sat back down, trying his best - failing - to make some semblance of comfort.

He shrugged, not sure what to say, how to say it, what the best course of action here was. ”Shit changed. Maybe I just had time to think, really absorb things, sort of figure out what you were doing, here.” He ran a hand through his hair, blowing the strands away when they flew back into his eyes. ”Did you ever stop and think I might’ve moved on, maybe found someone else? Or did you just, what, expect me to be ready for you to jump in whenever you felt like it?”