What if we were always going to end?
Blow Out the Candle - a short story
What is it to love someone who loves you back but not quite enough? Not quite in the right way?
There’s something heady in wanting someone you can’t have. We’re greedy children with outreached hands. Or idealists, caught up in a fairy tale that things might work out one day, if we can hold onto the hope. But it’s embarrassing too. A brutal punch to the ribs.
That’s one kind of someone you can’t have. And then there’s the loving the person you know you won’t end up with. A love that comes attached with a ticking clock. And yet you love them anyway.
I was at the pub recently with friends talking about this. Outside even though it was February, big winter coats and gloves on, so they could smoke. What it is to dedicate a portion of your life to someone when you know it isn’t forever. It’s not something everyone is willing to do. And sometimes there comes a point where the unavoidable hits.
My friends and I are edging into our late twenties. What next? is a question we’re all starting to ask. The expiration date on love that doesn’t last is creeping closer and closer.
I wanted to think about all of this when I wrote a short story for It’s Fine, I’m Fine, an anthology exploring the New Adult genre. What do we do when the person we love can’t love us back in the way we want? How long can we tolerate that for? Is there an age when the clock strikes midnight?
Think of Laurie saying to Jo, “It's no use, Jo, we've got to have it out, and the sooner the better for both of us. … I only loved you, and I worked hard to please you, and I gave up billiards and everything you didn't like, and waited and never complained, for I hoped you'd love me.”
This is from the novel, but I can quote Little Women (2019). Oscar for that speech when?
If you’re interested in reading my short story, or checking out the whole anthology then you can find it all below.
Blow Out the Candle
The dregs of an unharmonious ‘youuu’ overlapped with applause as Lauren blew out her candles. It took three attempts for all the candles to flicker out, leaving the room in momentary darkness as a friend cried, “Well, that was shit!”
The lights clicked on and there was Rachel, beaming at her, the rest of party crowd cheering behind her.
“Happy birthday,” Rachel said. “Did you make a wish?”
Lauren had forgotten. She shut her eyes, but nothing came to mind until she opened them again and Rachel was gone from her view.
“Happy birthday, m’love,” Gemma sung, pulling Lauren into her arms and planting a smacking kiss on the side of her head. “Welcome to the other side of twenty-five.”
“Thanks, I hate it.”
“That’s the spirit.” Gemma looked her up at down. “Personally, I think it agrees with you.”
“My late twenties?”
“Dear God. Don’t get ahead of yourself. We’re clearly still in our mid-twenties.”
“Oh good.” Lauren smiled. “I won’t get too serious then.”
“Fabulous. Besides, there are much more important things to do tonight.”
“Such as?”
“Get gloriously drunk to celebrate you. And to forget the truly terrible week at work I just had.”
Rachel re-appeared in the crowd with fresh drinks in her hands. She looked beautiful in her black dress – the top-half velvet, with a neckline that dipped low into her chest, and a satin skirt that grazed her ankles.
“Urgh,” Gemma sighed. “I need someone young and beautiful to bring me drinks.”
“I’m twenty-four?!” Rachel said.
“Oh, to be twenty-four again.”
“We were twenty-four a year and a half ago,” Lauren said, shaking her head.
“Exactly! An age.”
Rachel handed Lauren one of the drinks. “Happy birthday.” She laughed. “Again.”
That must have been the fifth time she had wished Lauren a happy birthday. The first was as she slipped into Lauren’s bed just after midnight the night before, breath cool from her minty toothpaste – “Happy birthday” soft as a lullaby as Lauren pulled her in, slotting their bodies together. Another as they arrived at the pub earlier – “Happy birthday” with a kiss on Lauren’s cheek as Rachel slipped her phone in her bag, Lauren smiling in gratitude because Rachel had planned a whole party for her, and what did it matter that she’d seen Victoria’s name pop up on the screen while they’d been en route?
“How do we get this cake cut?” Gemma asked.
“They’re getting a knife for us.” Rachel sipped her red wine. “I’m glad it looks good.”
“It’s gorgeous.” Lauren squeezed Rachel’s hip.
Rachel nodded, still focused on the cake. “Yeah. It is.”
The ganache shone. ‘Happy Birthday!’ was iced in sage green. A puddle of candle wax had formed beneath the ‘two’ of the ‘twenty-six’.
“This whole thing is so sweet.” Lauren wrapped her arm around Rachel’s back. “I can’t believe you organised it all.”
“It was Gemma too.”
Gemma shushed her with a wave of her hand. “Do not listen to her. I was merely an assistant.”
Lauren rested her head on top of Rachel’s, enjoying the sensation of her touch in plain view of everyone.
Gemma sighed, pouting at them. “I want a partner who throws me parties!”
Rachel laughed again, but this time the sound stumbled between the first and second exhalation.
It should have been Lauren’s job to correct new, non-university friends like Gemma on their relationship status. Or lack of… But Lauren didn’t want to. Her belated birthday wish was to stand there with her arm around Rachel and to have everyone’s presumptions be correct: they were together – properly.
Gemma glanced furtively at Lauren.
Lauren shrugged. “What can I say? I’m lucky.”
Rachel’s body gave nothing else away as she stood cocooned by Lauren. Maybe things were different this time around?
“Where’s that knife?” Rachel asked. “I’m just gonna go and find one.”
“It’ll come.” Lauren rubbed her back.
“It’s been ages. They’ve probably forgotten.”
“Don’t worry.”
“No. I…” Rachel extracted herself from Lauren. “I want you to try your cake.” She smiled, then nodded at Gemma.
The cider was too cloying against the back of Lauren’s mouth. She wanted something stronger.
“Did I misread the moment?” Gemma asked.
Lauren rolled her eyes. “You know you did.” Her new friends from the law firm didn’t understand her long and complicated history with Rachel.
“Oops!” Gemma grinned. “Thought it could be my birthday present to you if it worked out.”
The many nights they’d spent at the pub with Lauren confessing that she wanted more with Rachel barrelled into one another. “Should I go speak to her?”
“And say what? Sorry about Gemma, she thought you were my girlfriend because you kept acting like it.”
One of the bar staff appeared, an apology etched on their face. “Your friend asked me to pop in. I’m really sorry, but I can’t bring a knife. Health and safety, you know. Want us to cut the cake for you in the kitchen?”
Lauren leaned up on her tip toes to try and see anything of Rachel: the strawberry fields of her hair; the velvet-covered shoulders; the silver pendant on her chest. “That would be great, thanks.”
Gemma placed her hand on Lauren’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She sounded genuine this time.
“All good,” Lauren said. “Unfortunate timing.”
“Has something happened?”
The condensation on the glass lapped at Lauren’s hand. “Kind of. Old ghosts.” She set down her glass. “I’ll go find her.”
“But you’re the birthday girl…” Gemma sighed.
Lauren shrugged; that didn’t matter to her. She wanted to smooth everything out with Rachel and then she would return to celebrating.
Beyond their private room, drunks filled every crevice around the bar and spilled out onto the streets. Lauren spotted Rachel outside, smoking as she texted. Lauren waited out of sight, although not quite knowing what for. Perhaps she was reluctant to trigger the chain of events that she could feel brewing in her chest…
Hand outstretched, she finally reached for Rachel’s shoulder while rapidly scanning the bouncing back and forth of messages. “Hey,” she said.
Another message appeared at the bottom of the conversation just as Rachel locked her phone, blinking as she snapped out of the digital rendezvous.
“Hey.” Phone back in her bag. “You okay?”
“Yeah. All good. Thought I’d see where you got to.”
“Ah, sorry.” She waved her cigarette. “It called.”
Lauren laughed. “I get you.”
“Are you having a good time?”
“Yeah. It’s been lovely.” Lauren felt like she could be having this conversation with a stranger. “Sorry about Gem, though?”
“Huh? Oh that. It’s fine.” Rachel wore denial badly; she shook her head too much and her cheeks were visibly red even in the dim. “Nothing to apologise for. I know what Gemma’s like.”
“Exactly.”
Rachel offered Lauren her cigarette. “I really can’t believe you’re twenty-six.”
“I know. Time flies, huh?” Lauren said cheesily. Rachel laughed.
Lauren thought back to their first meeting years before, in the drizzly smoking area of a dive bar. Lauren had thought they’d been flirting, until a tall, aggressively beautiful woman had appeared and put her arm around Rachel, flashing a territorial wolf’s-tooth smile at Lauren.
Lauren knew she shouldn’t ask Rachel who she had been texting. But here she was, in her mid-to-late twenties, on her birthday, drunk, with someone she loved – someone who had never been able to truly reciprocate her commitment. Someone who was texting other women. Or woman. It had always been the same one.
“Who were you texting?”
Rachel’s hand flew to her bag, but her face frowned too slowly. “What do you mean?”
“Just wondering if we’re still expecting someone?” Lauren wondered how quickly Rachel would see through her.
“No. It was…” she trailed off. Rachel was no liar.
“Sorry, who?” It could never be an innocent question.
Rachel frowned. Lauren wondered if she’d say Victoria’s name. If Victoria was just a friend these days, then what’s the problem?
“Is she back then?” Lauren continued.
“Lauren. It’s your birthday.”
“When did she get back?”
“Does it matter?”
Not really. Victoria’s whereabouts didn’t change the facts, but they were easier to ignore when she was physically further away. It was easier to pretend the relationship was just between Lauren and Rachel…
“Let’s go back in,” Rachel said, shaking her head because here was Lauren speaking the thing they didn’t say out loud. “It’s your birthday,” she repeated.
“And you’re texting her.”
“She—” Rachel rubbed her hand across her face. “We’re friends.” Old friends. Rachel and Victoria had gone to school together, their history eclipsing Lauren and Rachel’s own.
“Like we’re friends?”
“We’re…” Rachel stared up at Lauren, eyes wide. “That’s not fair.”
Fair would have been Rachel falling in love with Lauren. Properly. That would have been fair. Fair would have been Victoria being far enough – truly enough – in the past that they could say her name instead of choking on the absence of it. The imminent damage to whatever Lauren and Rachel were wouldn’t be fair either.
The pitiful sight of Rachel made Lauren wish that she could stop the thread spinning, unravelling.
“I’m sorry,” Rachel said.
What was Lauren supposed to do with that? It didn’t fix anything. The conveyer belt moved faster and faster; it didn’t matter if Lauren pulled back now – something was going to break.
“You’re right,” she said. “Let’s go back inside.”
Rachel took one last drag of her cigarette, hand shaking, and crushed it against the wall. They moved as one through the crowd inside, but the lid of the coffin was cracked open, and the smell of their relationship’s long-neglected cadaver couldn’t be ignored.
“There you two are,” Gemma called as they entered the room. “The cake is cut.”
“Oh,” Rachel said softly. “How does it look?”
Lauren surged forward to rejoin the group, lest anyone question whether something was wrong. Gemma planted another kiss on the side of her head; Rachel hovered in the doorway, illuminated gold in the fairy lights.
For the remainder of the party, Lauren drifted with a smile fixed on her face. It was only as the final strays tumbled out that she reunited with Rachel. She’d missed Rachel’s presence; the way Rachel made her laugh. Shared looks and moments. Perhaps all of this would hurt less if Rachel wasn’t one of her best friends too. Then again, maybe they’d have acknowledged the coffin if it wasn’t for their friendship.
“Taxi or tube?” Lauren asked.
“Tube? I wouldn’t mind the walk.” Rachel didn’t move for her phone.
The walk along the river was stiflingly quiet after the buzz of the night tube. Lauren wanted to bring an axe to the silence, but she knew it was the kind that couldn’t be broken without casualties. She listened to the soft sound of Rachel’s breathing, in and out with the river lapping at the bank. The city lights speckled the grey water.
“I think we need to talk about it,” Lauren said.
“No,” Rachel replied softly. A childish rebuttable.
“We do.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“Please, no.”
“I don’t want to either.” Lauren stopped.
Rachel looked back at her but kept walking. “Then don’t?”
Lauren began to follow her. “We’ve got to! I can’t keep doing this like this. Can you?”
“Stop it.” Rachel’s voice was muffled by the animal refusal, backing away from Lauren’s advances. She repeated the words. Again. And again.
“I mean. What are we doing here? Still?”
“We’re…” Lovers? Best friends? Something undefinable in between?
“I know.” Lauren did. She understood. “But what comes after that? I mean, what? We do this forever?”
“Why not?”
“I’m twenty-six now.”
“And?”
“And?! It feels too old to be wasting my time.”
A whimper escaped Rachel and she spun to face the river.
Lauren sighed. “I didn’t mean…”
“That I was a waste of time?”
“You know you’re not a waste of time to me.” She reached for Rachel’s shoulder. “I just… I want it all with you. Just the two of us...”
Rachel turned to her, eyes large and wet, and Lauren nearly caved. Let’s go home, she wanted to say.
Rachel’s head shook from side to side, and Lauren mirrored her.
“I love you, Rach. Always have. You know that.”
A sound that wasn’t a word fell from Rachel’s mouth.
“And I figured one day you’d love me in the same way too.”
“You know I love you,” Rachel said desperately.
“And what about her, then?”
Rachel was still shaking her head. There was nothing she could say. For a moment, Lauren wished that Rachel was a liar: No. Victoria and I are in the past. She isn’t you. She doesn’t treat me as well as you do. She doesn’t love me like you do.
“I don’t want to lose you,” Rachel said.
All of the hurt they’d caused each other in their mismatched love.
Lauren nodded, gnawing her bottom lip between her teeth. A chill was setting in to her core. “I know.”
“I’m so sorry,” Rachel said, her tears tracing racing tracks of moonlight. “I’m sorry I couldn’t…” She broke off.
A stone dislodged in Lauren’s throat, sliding down to settle in her stomach. Here it was. What she’d asked for. She wanted to take it all back — to apologise for pushing them down this hill.
“I tried,” Rachel continued.
And Lauren wished she hadn’t. I tried to love you — I just couldn’t.
They walked the rest of the way in silence and shut the doors to their individual bedrooms. Lauren undressed and got into bed, desperately willing Rachel to come in – to crack the door open and tiptoe across the creaky wooden boards. Lauren would pull back the duvet and welcome her.
She stared at the ceiling until she fell asleep.
It’s Fine, I'm Fine is a vital, genre-hopping collection of New Adult Short Fiction, bringing together a group of excellent writers. These twelve stories look at what it means to be new to adulthood, and how exactly you might navigate that. Whether you're falling in love, falling through space, or falling into a puddle of blood left there by your walls, these stories will make you laugh, cry, and enthusiastically nod along.
And you can either purchase here or order it to your local book shop if you’d like to read it (which you should).
If you read the full short story then I’d love to know what you thought, and if you purchase the anthology then I hope you enjoy it <3