Pole Position: Between Logic and Passion

PortoFino

Kate leaned back on the lounge chair, the sunlight warming her skin while I kept staring at the sea like it might give me answers.

“There’s something else,” I said quietly, hesitantly.

She turned her head toward me. “What is it?”

I took a deep breath. “The day I went to Charles’s apartment… when he was still live… I was looking for Arthur's box, remember?

She nodded.

“And I ended up finding something else. A black velvet box in the back of his closet.”

Her eyebrows lifted slightly, but she didn’t interrupt.

“I opened it, Kate. It was a ring. And not just any ring—it was beautiful. But he never said anything about it. Never brought it up. And I didn’t ask. I just… closed the box and put it back.”

Kate was quiet for a moment, her gaze drifting out toward the horizon. I felt my heart skip a beat, but I didn't say anything, waiting for her to speak.

“I—” Kate hesitated. “I helped him pick that ring.”

I froze. My breath caught in my throat. “You did?”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah. We went shopping together, and he asked me for advice. He didn’t want to do anything too flashy, but he wanted something special. I remember thinking it was a little odd, like he was thinking ahead… but I didn’t question it then.”

I felt a wave of emotion hit me, but I stayed still, trying to process the weight of her words.

Kate exhaled slowly, like she’d been holding something in for a long time. “I was so excited, you know?” she said quietly. “When he told me what he was planning…"

My chest tightened.

“You were already living together,” she went on, a small smile tugging at her lips, though it was tinged with sadness. “You had your routines, your little fights over which pasta to cook or who left the lights on. It was like… like watching something real, something steady. And then, out of nowhere, it was over.”

I looked away, my throat burning.

Kate continued, “I remember thinking it had to be a misunderstanding. That maybe one of you would come running back. But you didn’t. And neither did he."

I swallowed hard, feeling the ache of all the things we never said, all the things we left hanging in the silence.

“And I never asked him what happened,” she said. “Because I figured… if it mattered enough, he’d talk. But he never really did. Not even with Arthur.”

I stayed quiet, staring at the sea, letting her words wash over me like a tide I couldn’t escape.

“Did you ever think about asking him?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

Kate gave me a look. “All the time. But I figured that if he still loved you, he’d find a way to fix it. And if you still loved him… maybe you’d let him.”

----

It was well past 2 a.m. when Kate and I finally stumbled back into the hotel. My feet ached, my hair smelled like a mix of sea breeze and the club's expensive fog machine, and we couldn’t stop laughing at absolutely nothing as we made our way through the quiet halls.

She practically collapsed onto her bed the moment I opened the door. I pulled the blanket over her, kicked off my heels, and padded over to my own bed with a soft groan.

The room was dim, peaceful, except for the hum still buzzing in my chest from the music, the drinks, and maybe a little from everything Kate had said earlier.