Page 30 of It’s Me, but Different

“Is it true?”

Sloane closes her eyes and lets out a very long sigh before answering.

“Yes, it's true. I was very bad, Esme. Very bad. But I don't want to talk about that anymore; it's been a long time.”

“Why did you never try to contact me?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. “After your injury, when you realized you had made a mistake, why didn't you look for me?”

“And what was I going to tell you? Hi, Esme, now that I can't compete and my life is shit, it seems like a good time for you to come back to me? Besides,” she adds, lowering her voice, “you were about to marry Luis. I saw photos of you on Instagram.”

“You saw them?”

“Yes,” she admits. “You were beautiful. And he… he seemed to make you so happy…”

The way her voice breaks tears my heart, and without even thinking, I take her hand in mine to caress it.

“Sloane…”

“You know what hurts me most?” she continues, intertwining her fingers with mine. “That you're right to be afraid, because I probably won't be able to give you everything you deserve.”

“Maybe,” I whisper, “maybe we've both changed enough to try again.”

Sloane looks at me confused, as if she doesn't understand what I just admitted.

“Can we go somewhere more private? I find it hard to talk about these things with so many people around,” I confess, making a circle in the air with my finger.

“Your room?” she asks. “Just to talk, of course,” she clarifies.

“Fuck, River made sure you got one of the best suites in the hotel,” she jokes as she enters.

I stand by the door, not really knowing what to do now that we're alone.

“Do you want something to drink?” I ask. “There's a minibar.”

“I know there's a minibar, but no, I've had enough to drink for tonight,” she admits.

“Is what River said true? That you've never been truly happy since you left me.”

“It is,” she sighs. “I've had good moments, I've had fun. I've traveled, I've had some girlfriends. But happy… truly happy, no. I never have been. It was as if part of me had stayed frozen on that January night when I told you I couldn't afford distractions.”

Her words hit me straight in the heart. I know well what she means, because for a time I had the feeling that part of me had died along with our relationship.

“Luis made me happy,” I confess. “In a different way, but he made me happy. It was a calmer love, somehow more mature.”

“You deserved to be happy. And you're right about that. I was immature back then, but I've changed. Or at least, I'd like to think so.”

“I didn't mean it like that,” I rush to clarify. “What I mean is I never stopped wondering what would have happened if we had stayed together. Especially when I found out about your injury, I often wondered if all that sacrifice was worth it. If you regretted it.”

“Ugh, if I regretted it…” she sighs, dropping onto the bed and stretching her arms above her head.

Shit, she's beautiful.

“How do you think it would have been?” I ask quietly, lying on the bed next to her. “If you had chosen to stay with me.”

“I don't know. We probably would have fought a lot. I was very stubborn, and you were very independent. Maybe we would have broken up anyway.”

“Or maybe we would have found a way to make everything work. Maybe we would have been very happy,” I correct, sitting up to straddle her hips.

“Esme…” she whispers, clearly aroused.