What Happens Under The Sun

What did I do? What did I do? What did I do?

The question raced through my head as if it was a CD on loop. I'd heard the words so many times that they were starting to loose their meaning, becoming just a bunch of sounds that were repeated over and over.

I left the café a little while after Derek did. My eyes were flooded with tears and I didn't think the general public needed to see me like that.

When I left I started to walk down the street. I didn't know where I was going; I was just waiting for the tears to dry up. I didn't quite get why I was crying so much, it's not like Derek had broken up with me or chosen some other girl over me. I had done that, if anyone should have been crying it was him.

But still I walked down the street waiting for my tears to dry up and thinking about what I had just done. I had chosen Tom over Derek. No, that wasn't right, I had chosen not to give up Tom instead of being with Derek.

As I thought about it, I realized exactly what I had chosen. I had chosen random nights of wild sex over two nights a week of romantic dinners. I had chosen the forbidden fruit over the orange handed to me on a silver platter. I had chosen a ninety percent chance of heartbreak over what could have been a happily ever after. In short ladies and gentlemen, I had chosen lust over love and I was going to be kicking myself for it later.

When I was confident that my eyes could not possibly produce any more tears, I hailed a cab. I wasn't going through this by myself. I was going to see what I had chosen, what I had decided on keeping. I was going to see Tom.

What I still couldn't seem to grasp was why I had told Derek that I couldn't give up Tom. I mean, with Derek I had a connection; he was sweet, funny, good-looking, and obviously crazy about me, but with Tom what did I have? Sex?

History. That was it, definitely. I couldn't give up Tom because of the history between us, what I used to feel for him had swayed my decision. Yea, that was the reason, the only reason.

I pushed the button for the elevator and waited.

As I waited, I wondered. I wondered what Tom would think when I showed up at his door like this, looking like I'd been crying, a no doubt heartbroken look in my eyes. he'd probably assume Derek had done something to me. I wondered if he'd ask questions. Would he ask what happened? Would he ask for the details? What if he asked me why I had chosen him? what would I tell him? ''We have history and you're great in bed''? Somehow I couldn't see that answer going off very smoothly.

But mostly I wondered why I was even here, why I was stepping into the elevator that would take me to his floor, why I had every intention of knocking on his door until he opened it.

Sure I had chosen Tom and why the hell shouldn't I go and see him? But why did I go right away? Why didn't I wait until tomorrow when I had composed myself? Why didn't I wait until the party tomorrow night when I would see him anyway? To those questions I had no answer.

I walked down the hall to his apartment and knocked on the door. I waited for the sound of the lock clicking and then the handle being turned.

''Kate?'' Tom said, looking half confused, half excited.

I didn't say anything back. Even though I thought I had run out, tears were once again flowing freely down my face.

''What's the matter?'' he asked, wrapping me in his arms and pulling me towards him and into his apartment.

''What happened?''

I didn't say anything, I couldn't. it was all too overwhelming. Instead I simply shook my head as I cried against his chest.

''Shh, it's alright.'' He cooed as he sat us down on the couch.

Tom pulled me into his lap and held me tightly as I cried. He didn't ask any more questions.

As he held me, saying nothing, demanding no answers, I came to a new conclusion as to why I had chosen him. I had picked him because of this, because how I felt when I was with him. Despite the fact that I was sure he would break my heart in the end, I felt safe with him. I felt at ease because I knew that he wasn't going to pry and prod and ask a hundred questions until he got an answer. He cared what was the matter with me without being all boyfriend about it. He cared about what was wrong without having to know exactly what it was.

And to be honest, if he wasn't asking, I wasn't going to say anything. This was mostly because I didn't think that I could explain to him why exactly I had chosen him in a way that would keep things the same between us. I wanted to tell him what happened, but refused to let anything change between us. What we had was exactly what we both needed, and I wasn't going to be the one to ruin it.

After what felt like hours, when I had stopped sobbing, I looked up at Tom. He hadn't said anything the whole time other than the occasional 'shh' or 'it's alright'. He was staring off into space when I looked up at him.

''Tom?'' I said softly and he looked at me right away. My voice was raspy from crying.

His eyes were full of concern and unasked questions. I put one hand on his cheek and pressed my lips softly against his.