Insipid (24 page)

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Authors: Christine Brae

Tags: #Contemporary

BOOK: Insipid
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“Double O, I’ve missed you,” I mumble into his chest.

“And I you, MP. But we need to talk, okay?” he says as he releases me.

“Okay. Let me freshen up and then we can go for a walk.” I loiter around the suite, looking for the bathroom so that I can do just that.

The room is absolutely magnificent, decorated in beige and gray, with a large leather-lined sleigh bed in the middle of the master bedroom. There’s a living and dining area as well as an outdoor fire pit on the balcony off the bedroom. I feel my anxiety taking over as I spy a large vase with fresh orchids in it. Lucas senses my reaction and immediately takes the vase outside, placing it on one of the wooden chairs by the open ledge.

I close the bathroom door but leave it unlocked out of habit, brushing my teeth and taking a minute to observe myself in the mirror. I don’t have any makeup on. My skin is paler than normal and I look tired. I reach into my makeup bag to touch up my eyebrows, laughing to myself when I remember that I’m in a hotel suite alone with a man almost ten years my junior. Accentuating my eyebrows is the least of my worries.

Silently, the door opens and I don’t say a word when he wraps his arms around me from behind.

“I think we’re going to have to postpone that walk for a few minutes,” he murmurs, pulling me backwards so I’m leaning on his chest. “I can’t stand this any longer. I have to have you, Jade. Whatever happens after we talk, I need this moment with you.” He tries to take my hand. “Come into the bedroom with me.”

“No,” I say sternly, pulling him to me. “I need you here and now. Take me here.”

I watch his face in the mirror, my gaze fixed on his. I close my eyes as his hands move slowly upwards to touch me, gently unbuttoning the front of my blouse while fastidiously caressing every inch of my skin with his lips. He slips the fabric off my shoulders and unclasps my bra. I am now naked from the waist up.

“Luke,” I say shyly, conscious of the fact that he’s staring at me in the mirror.

“You are the most exquisite work of art I have ever seen,” he professes as he turns me around to face him and sets me up so that I’m sitting on the edge of the bathroom sink.

I try to break the tension by cracking a joke. “Wow. That’s a loaded statement, considering the millions of women you’ve seen.”

“Uh-huh,” he grunts, lightly outlining my lips with his finger before kissing me and inching his way down from my neck to my shoulders. “Way to ruin a perfectly romantic moment.”

I sigh when he brings his mouth to my breasts and kisses them gently. His right hand finds its way under my skirt while he uses his left to hold up my legs, which are now wrapped around him. I gasp as he pushes his fingers inside me.

“Tell me you want me just as much, Jade.”

“I do. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life,” I say, giving him permission to pull my skirt down and undress me completely. I do the same for him, drawing his shirt upwards and pulling it off his shoulders. I unbuckle his belt, unbutton his pants, and push them down around his knees. “Wait,” I say as I hop off the sink and turn back around to face the mirror. “This way, Luke. I want you this way. I want to see you. To see us. I’m not made of glass, I won’t break. Wake me up from this daze, fill me up completely.”

He groans when I touch him and I don’t let go as I pull him closer to me, guiding him, encouraging him to take me, to fulfill six months of wishing, wanting, yearning. He gently obliges my request, allowing me to take the lead as I press harder and harder against him. Once he is all the way inside me, I start to move.

“Baby, wait. I might not last that long. It’s been months since I’ve done this.”

Months?
I smile from ear to ear before teasing myself with my hands, encouraging his intense movements as he watches me in the mirror. I lean my body back, supporting my weight with both hands flat against the sink. He starts to move in and out, faster and faster, bending down to keep his mouth on mine. I can feel him expanding; I can feel everything about him. His hands grab my breasts roughly, squeezing them with every push.

“Take me, Jade. I’m yours!” he sputters.

I reach my arms backward and pull him close to me just as he explodes, his heart beating wildly, his insides pulsing, his body shuddering. I crane my head sideways and kiss his face, his nose, his neck and finally his lips. We kiss for a while. Sweet, loving gentle tugs with our teeth and our tongues.

For all our hellos and our goodbyes and everything else in between.

“My angel,” I hear him whisper in between deep, rapid breaths.

I’m sated for a moment, overcome with the high of his touch, but just as quickly I am filled with so much sadness when I suddenly realize that nothing that’s happened in the past has ever made me feel as much as I do now. With him.

 

 

THE SYMMETRY OF
the clouds surrounding the setting sun and the riveting beauty of the shoreline makes me think of Cia. Is she watching me from where she is? If what Father Mike told me is true, is she happy to see me with him? Does she know? Can she feel my heart coming back to life?

Lucas and I sit side by side on the sand, close enough for our knees to touch but distant enough to focus on what we’re here to follow through. The sun is no longer sharing its warmth with us and still I’m inflamed despite the cool, comfortable breeze.

“The water looks so inviting. Maybe we should go for a swim tonight.” He turns to me with his arresting eyes and smiles. I try not to stare but I can’t help it.

“No thanks. Me and the ocean don’t really go together. I’ll be perfectly fine watching you from here, though.” I wink at him.

“Another one of your fears?”

“Even as a child, I was always intimidated by the ocean. I can’t touch the ocean floor. I don’t like stepping into things I can’t see. You know, me. Black and white.”

He nods his head but I can tell that his mind is on something else. “Jade, where were you last night?”

“With an old friend who needed me. I flew here to wrap up some open wounds that I caused twenty years ago.”

We both remain firmly rooted in stoicism. He makes no attempt to move closer to me. “Will you tell me about them? The men in your life? The people who mean a lot to you?”

“Yes. I want to,” I say, and I start by telling him about Chris. “He was the boy I fell in love with while I was in school. He was funny and simple, so unlike me. He played basketball for our school and wanted so much to be recruited professionally. I loved him so much, but it just wasn’t the right time for us, I guess. Chris spent most of our time together worrying that he wasn’t enough for me. That the paths we’d chosen were too divergent. In the end, his fear of losing me tore us apart. He cheated on me because he thought that it was only a matter of time before I left him. Joshua was his best friend. Our families grew up in the same social circle—he was at every party, every event, and company function. When I left Chris, I was six weeks pregnant with Felicia. I married Joshua one month after that in an effort to give my child a stable home, a loving father. Joshua truly believed that I would fall in love with him one day. And as we fell into the vicious circle of our careers and raising a child, I honestly thought that eventually, he would have my heart. But it never happened. I focused on bringing Cia up and taking care of her. For eighteen years, Cia filled the void in my heart. She made all the pain and emptiness go away. She was my reason for living; she allowed me to be content and complacent. Chris came back into my life almost one year ago.” I pause for a moment as his face scrunches up in puzzlement. I know he wants to ask a question, but he latches his jaw as it slackens up to say something, so I prattle on.

“As a father, I guess he knew immediately that Cia was his after he saw her pictures,” I hear myself say. “I couldn’t handle keeping this secret from him for much longer. He deserved to know. And what happened between Joshua and me… honestly, the breakup was a long time coming. I don’t hold any hatred for what he did to me. I just want him to move on and be happy.”

I surprise myself immensely when I realize that I’m not shedding any tears. I feel guilty for a moment but then I think of Cia and how proud she must be of me for not dwelling on her death and endeavoring to live instead.

It takes me almost an hour to tell my story. He doesn’t say a single thing all throughout my monologue. He lets me go through my emotions, laughing, tearing, and digging at the sand. I even tell him about my hatred for flowers, how I’ve seen enough flowers in the past year to last me a lifetime. That they’re a waste of space in this world, how it’s a joke to believe that flowers are all one needs to provide a sense of comfort for desolation and sadness.
How can those pretty little petals ever soothe a pain so deep?
He listens until my story is over and he knows it’s over because I maintain an extended silence before turning my head to face him.

“This is it. This is me, James.”

He doesn’t make a move to pull me towards him. In fact, he moves away slightly so no part of us is touching. “Did you sleep with Chris last night?” His tone is nervous and his voice is shaky.

I avert his question completely. I’ve had too much truth for the past few days and I know that nothing I say will change our situation.

He lets out a heavy sigh and shakes his head, anger clouding his eyes and immediately taking over. “What in fuck’s name does that mean for us?” He raises his voice, still staring straight into the ocean.

I don’t say anything because I don’t have the answer for him. After what happened with Chris, I know I can’t be in two places at the same time. He waits for me to explain, his agitation increasing with my reticence.

“Goddamn it!” he yells, slamming his fists into the sand. “What are we to each other? Are we friends? Are we colleagues? One fuck doesn’t even classify us as lovers! What are we?”

I shake my head furiously, incredulous at his outburst. That’s what it was to him?

“Just a fuck?” My voice is barely a whisper.

“Defend what happened last night to me. Say something. Anything.”

I finally turn to my head to look at him. “Chris just found out that he had a daughter a few days ago. He had come to Chicago to see whether we could have a second chance together. How am I going to leave him alone now, when I robbed him of his right to get to know his child? Besides, I don’t think it’s fair for me to defend anything when we don’t even know what we are to each other. Up until a few hours ago, I had no idea that you’d be here. You still haven’t told me why you came looking for me!” I exclaim. Whether he’s here or on the phone, he’s still as exasperating as ever.

“Really, Jade. Give me some credit here. I don’t fly halfway around the globe for someone who’s ‘just a fuck’ to me.” He enunciates the last few words sarcastically.

“What exactly do you want from me, Luke?” This time I turn my head to glare at him.

“I want you to tell me that Chris means nothing to you. That I’m the one. That you’re mine. This shit has been going on for too long.” He stares back, showing me that he’s not backing down.

“Ha!” I laugh out loud. “Well, maybe one day when you have kids of your own, you can tell them about the time when this one older woman was so crazy about you, she couldn’t think straight.”

“Was? As in past tense. What does that mean?”

“I can’t deal with this right now. I’m going to work it out with Chris. At least I know where I stand with him.” I can’t accept another minute of taking the blame for the six months of love and pain and anxiety that he caused me. I struggle to maintain my balance on the uneven sand so I can stand up and walk away. I manage to prop myself up, but he catches hold of my foot to prevent me from taking a step forward.

“No, Jade. We’re going to finish this here!” He yells. “Make up your fucking mind!”

His forcefulness startles me. I can’t help myself. I start to cry. “What? Finish what? Decide what? Do you realize what you’ve put me through for the past six months? You waltz into my life just as it’s imploding. You make me fall for you and then you disappear for weeks. You call me, you play with my mind, you mess with my head. I tell you time and again that I have nothing to offer you, and yet, you insist. You insist on getting to me. You make me feel things for the first time in twenty years. You make me guess, you make me wonder, you make me fall in love with you. And then you have the gall to demand that I define what we have when you’ve ruined me! I was willing to jeopardize my job, my reputation, my career for you!”

“You told me that you didn’t want anything from me,” he argues.

“I begged for every call. Every text message. I valued myself according to the attention that you paid to me. What a fool I’ve been! And now that I can finally see beyond today, you decide to show up and expect me to give up what I finally have a chance to amend for whatever it is you think we have?”

“Tell me then, Jade,” he explodes angrily, “what the fuck just happened two hours ago?”

I have an epiphany. Right there and then. “Closure, Lucas. It was closure.”

“Jade, please sit down. I didn’t mean—” His tone changes to quiet, somber, almost repentant. He makes a motion as if to stand up. “What if… what if it were our kids who would be listening to the story of us?”

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