Orange Marmalade

Orange Marmalade
“Are you sure?” 
“Yes.”
“Completely sure?”
“Yup.”
“Oh.” He looks down, watching as his toes scuff the floor with an awkwardness he should have grown out of years ago.
“So, I take it you don’t…?” She starts, trailing off after realizing finishing that sentence would require her to say that awful word again.
“No.” There was no room for confusion, his voice was almost too firm to be kind. She looks away with watery eyes so he hurriedly adds “Sorry.”
She sniffs and looks back “I mean, I didn’t really know what I expected you to say. I know what I wanted you to say, but-”  her voice breaks,  “It’s just different. Hearing it.”
“How long have you…?”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters.”
“Why, so you can go back and analyze everything I said to you, everything we’ve done together? I don’t want you to do that. Please. Don’t.” Abruptly she takes the half empty cup of cold tea held loosely in his hands, and along with her own dumps the contents into the sink. Turning her back on him, she runs the tap into one of the cups and waits until the overflowing water is clear, hoping he’ll leave before she has to look at him again.
He watches her back, the stiff movement of her shoulders as she inhales deeply in a futile attempt to compose herself.  He should say something, maybe something comforting. That might work.  “It’s not your fault, you know.”
“It’s not my fault I’m in love with you, or it’s not my fault you don’t love me back?” She shuts off the faucet and turns to face him again, the dripping cups gripped by their handles with white knuckles. “Cause either way,” she continues “there’s really no one else to blame. It’s just me being selfish again”
He shakes his head softly “You’re hardly being selfish-“
She cuts him off; tired of hearing the pity in his voice “Alright. Anyways, my mom’s coming round at one. You’d probably want to be out by 12:30 then.” She sets the two cups firmly on the counter and pushes past him out the door.
***
He scans the shelves for the orange object of interest. He finds it quickly underneath the honey and puts it in his basket right away. Orange Marmalade, retched stuff, but he gets it because she likes it and he likes her.
He walks down the dimly lit hallway, the handles of a plastic bag wrapped around his fingers. White doors line the walls on either side; the tattered carpet dulls his footsteps. It’s then when he hears it, that shrill voice muffled by the thin walls of the hallway. Looks like he wasn’t out long enough.
“Sweetheart, it’s not healthy. You need a proper life.”
“Mum, leave it be.” The more familiar voice spoke. He knew eavesdropping was wrong, but it’s hardly his fault if they choose to talk at an abnormally high volume, or if his ear just happens to position itself against the door.
“I’m not going to leave it be. Don’t you want to settle down with a proper man, finally have me some grandchildren. You mope about in this bloody apartment every day, he sees right through you.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. He needs me mom, someone needs me…” her voice softens and he has to strain to hear her.  “You know, after Molly died I thought maybe he’d finally see me. That’s why I moved in with him, I wanted to help him, show him that he needed me. I didn’t want to become his sister, I didn’t want to replace Molly but-but I wanted to be the person he needed.  He doesn’t need me  though does he mum?  He just needs someone.”
“You told him, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“I asked if he loved me back. He said no, so I sent him out for the day. What do you think he said?”
“Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, well he’s sorry too apparently.”
“At least you know now though, you’re not guessing anymore. You know either way. You can leave him now.” 
“I’m not going to leave him mom. He still so lonely, he has no one. It’s just me looking after him.”
“It’s not your job to stay with him, you’re both adults and you need to start acting like it! Don’t you see he doesn’t care what you do, it’s not going to change the way he feels.”
He stifles an indignant gasp. He cares, of course he cares. After all he did buy her orange marmalade.
“Mom, you’re not going to change my mind.”
“Fine, have it your way. But don’t come crying to me the day you wake up unemployed and alone.”
“Trust me, I won’t!” He hears shuffling, and footsteps approaching alarmingly close. He scrambles away from the doorway and around a corner, watching as a huffing mother storms out of his apartment. She slams the door behind her and disappears around the corner in the opposite direction.
He waits a few seconds before rapping on the door lightly “Hey, anyone home?” He opens the door slowly and peaks his head in. She’s sitting at the glass dining room table, her chin propped up on her hand.
“Hey.” She replies, her voice is weak, and he knows why. “Where’d you get to then?”
“Oh, just did a bit of shopping.” He sets the bag down beside her on the table and pulls a chair out to sit beside her. “Nice visit with your mom?” oh, that’s very clever.
“I suppose.”
“Good.” Pause. “Listen, I just wanted to say thank you for everything. It feels like I’m still getting back on my feet after Molly, everything’s all so raw and strange. But I need you to know I appreciate what you do for me, and even though I’m an ungrateful bastard sometimes, I do see it. I haven’t found my way yet, I can barely understand what I’m feeling, much less what you are. So please. Don’t leave yet. I can’t make any promises, but I can say that I will try harder. So let’s give it another shot. Take two, yeah?”
She looks up at him with a watery smile and nods “Alright. I think I can manage that.”
***
“Come on, just a bit.”
“No way.”
“Please. Trust me, you’ll love it.”
“I can assure you I-” A spoon is shoved through his lips and a tangy flavor fills his mouth. Come to think of it, it’s not all together horrible. Maybe, he could learn to love orange marmalade someday.