I am conflicted. My heart seems to keep going in circles—from joy, to guilt, to frustration, then relief and joy again. I don’t quite know how to stop the cycle.
Kara called Freya last night to invite her to lunch today, and though Freya had a lunch meeting, I encouraged her to make time for her friend. My motives were not pure, I admit—I hoped that in her conversation with Kara, I might pick up a few clues on Freya’s thoughts about Sol.
At first, that did not seem likely. No sooner had the two women sat down at the restaurant for an early dinner than Kara announced, “So we’re engaged.”
Freya shrieked aloud, seized Kara’s left hand, and then cried out in disapproval. “No ring? I’m going to disown George.”
“Gonna have to disown me too, then, Cobb. We’re a package deal now.” Kara was smiling as if she couldn’t quite help it.
“I suppose he gets a pass then. But what is he thinking?”
“He wants me to pick out the ring. He knows I’m kind of picky about my jewelry and he told me he thought I’d say no on principle if he got something I didn’t like.”
Freya laughed. “Which you would.”
“Damn straight.”
“Well, I’m thrilled for you both,” Freya said, letting go of Kara’s hand. “But I’m a little surprised. Didn’t you say that you weren’t the marrying type?”
“I said I wasn’t the type for a big wedding, and I’m still not,” Kara said. She put her chin in her hands. “But I don’t know. George gets me. He knows just about everything about me, and somehow he still likes me. And…I’m safe with him. I can be goofy or mushy or totally uncool, and I know he’ll always like me.”
“Well, by those standards, you should be marrying me.”
Kara gave Freya an arch look. “Don’t think I haven’t thought about it. You is fine, Cobb.” And as Freya laughed, Kara rolled her eyes. “Plus, I never thought I’d end up with someone with as dumb a name as George.”
“You should get him to change it.”
“Oh, I’ve tried. He says if it’s good enough for a Weasley or the king of England, it’s good enough for him.”
“Tell him that George III was crazy.”
“Yeah, but we both love Hamilton, so that won’t work.”
“Ugh, Jonathan Groff is just perfect.”
This dissolved into a conversation that was rather incomprehensible to me, though I did gather that it had something to do with popular culture. From there they discussed Freya’s new job, got derailed talking about books, and finally wound their way back to wedding plans.
“Yeah, don’t be surprised if we end up with a courthouse service and dinner at a swanky restaurant for seven people afterward,” Kara said. “Though I guess we can make it eight if you want to wrangle up a date. Which by the way.” She set down her wineglass with a thump. “What is up with you not having gone out with anyone in who knows how long? And if you say you did more than one day ago and you haven’t told me, you’re fired as my best friend.”
Freya set her own glass down, looking thoughtful. “I don’t know,” she said. “I just haven’t run into any possibilities lately.”
“Not sure I believe that,” Kara said. “Seriously, no one? Is every man in Boston blind or gay?”
“There was someone who expressed an interest only this week,” Freya admitted, and I drew closer as she told Kara about Sol.
“Sounds more than acceptable,” Kara said, watching Freya’s face as closely as I was. “So why didn’t you accept?”
Freya rested her hands on the table. “You’re gonna think I’m crazy,” she said. “But—well, you know what you said about how George gets you, and you feel safe around him?”
My heart jumped as Kara nodded.
“I feel that way all the time these days,” Freya said. “Like there’s someone standing right behind me, but not in a creepy way. Someone who’s going to catch me if I fall. And that this person knows me better than anyone else, and that they will always love me no matter what.” She shook her head, smiling as if she felt she was being silly. “And I don’t know. I liked Sol, but saying yes to him, kind of seemed like a step down from that. He’s fine, but he’s a stranger, and I don’t want to wait around for him to get to know me when I already feel like someone does.”
In the silence that fell—which surely lasted no more than three seconds—it felt like the world turned over multiple times.
“You’re right,” Kara said finally. “I do think you’re crazy.”
Freya held up her hands. “It’s weird, I grant you,” she said. “But maybe I’ve just come to a realization that I like myself as I am. Maybe I’m my own soulmate.”
“It would be pretty impossible to be good enough for you,” Kara said. “Even George couldn’t manage it, and he’s perfect.”
“You could do it, dear,” Freya said, laying her hand teasingly over Kara’s.
“Yeah, I could, but I’m taken now. You missed your chance.”
They ended the meal with laughter and promises to meet up again soon, but both women were thinking about Freya’s words as they returned home. I am thinking about them, too. I can think of nothing else. She was talking about me. I knew that she knew about my presence, but not so specifically—not that she knows me as a person.
I am a person to my fire woman. I exist in her world with that much distinction. I am real to her, and she is not frightened but glad of this.
But this means that for my sake, she turned down a real opportunity. She might have been happy with Sol. What if Sol is the one person who might have really made it work with her? Can the happiness I give her now really take the place of the happiness she could lose in the future from being alone?
I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know what is right. It is true that she shouldn’t rely so much on someone she cannot see or speak to, but then again, to have even this much of her regard is such sweet joy to me.
I think that I will let myself be happy, at least for a little while, and worry about the consequences later. They will come soon enough, I am sure, and so for now let me have the pleasure of knowing that my love is, in some small way, returned.