Three Stages of Love: Attraction (2 page)

Later that evening, we celebrated Marcus’s birthday at Piccolo’s Italian restaurant on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Samantha invited a few of Marcus’s colleagues for dinner and drinks. But there was one obvious empty place at the table—Alexander’s!

He came up in conversation of course, as my luck would have it. Marcus tried mentioning an update on Alexander and how great he was doing in LA; his eyes glancing back and forth between me and Samantha as he spoke. And every word yanked at my heartstrings.

“He’s doing really well out West,” I heard Marcus say quietly.

And inadvertently my body leapt out of the chair. I internally rejected any mention of him and his successes without me. My dash out of the restaurant as I shed tears of grief was Marcus’s and Samantha’s cue to never again mention Alexander in my presence.

The following morning, as I passed Marcus in the office, I tried to apologize for my behavior. And in his consoling and usually friendly way, Marcus replied, “You don’t have to apologize. I see the hurt through your eyes. Alexander hasn’t loved much in his life, and the few people he has loved he lost in the cruelest of ways. Call him, Eva. It will do you both some good.”

But he was right about one thing. My eyes carried dark circles around them and were streaked red from the excessive crying, and my every word was marked with contempt. My appearance had changed from glowing and sexy to pale and rail thin. I hadn’t been to the gym in months, but I had lost fifteen pounds off of my already fragile body. My appetite was uncharacteristically diminished—almost nonexistent, in fact. I don’t know how many times I pondered my current state, but the realization was always the same: in an effort to maintain the independent woman I had always been, I had instead lost not only who I was but any understanding of who I could be in the future.

The disturbing hours of darkness came and went, and as the sun came up and crept through my curtains, I awoke back to my grieving days and was determined to
try
to have a better day. Having spent the last few hours recalling the joy that Samantha carried, I wanted nothing more than to be around that happiness again.

Picking up my cell phone, I dialed Samantha.

“Hi there,” she answered after only one ring.

“Hey, are you busy? Is it a bad time?” I asked. I imagined she was with Marcus, as she had been every weekend for the last few months. All of her days and nights and plans involved Marcus. Samantha had always been on call for me, until she found a life of her own, and I had yet to learn how to handle my life without her.

“Never too busy for you. What’s up? Are you OK?” Her concern and constant questioning of “are you OK” annoyed me, but I couldn’t fault her. I had created the concern; my presentation and dismissal of life as a whole spoke that I was, in fact,
not OK.

After three months of mourning my self-instigated loss, I knew that I could not survive a moment longer in this hollow existence. I needed to find a way to move on, regardless of whether or not I wanted to.

“I was just hoping that if you didn’t have plans tonight that we could go for drinks and some dancing. You know, like the good old days?” I felt like a child begging for a cookie, helpless and naive and desperately wanting.

The line carried a stale silence before Samantha spoke. “I can’t—” she began to respond.

And with fear of rejection, I retracted my invitation and cut off her response. “It’s OK, Samantha. Maybe some other time,” I blurted through the phone.

But Samantha chimed back in a hurry, “No, Eva, wait. You know, some day you will actually let me speak an entire sentence before interrupting me.” Samantha chided as she continued. “I was about to say I can’t believe you called. I would love to go out with you tonight. You have no idea how much I miss partying with you.”

I released a heavy breath and cleared the building pressure in my chest. “Are you sure? I don’t want to take you away from Marcus, or…you are welcome to invite him to come with…” I said politely, asking her to bring Marcus. I liked him and all, but I really just needed to let loose with Samantha.

“Oh, Marcus…um, he has his own plans.” Samantha paused. A pause that made her seem uncertain of what to say. “Maybe he can meet us later on, but for now I’m all yours.”

The last time that Samantha and I had gone out drinking was our final night out with Chrissy; and the sudden thought tightened in my throat as I hesitated with my confirmation.

“I know,” Samantha added, breaking the silence. “Our last girl’s night was our outing with Chris. She’ll be there, Eva; she’s always there…in spirit.”

I was covered with goose bumps as the thought of Chrissy’s absence crept through me.

“OK, swing by my house around nine. We can decide where we are going before we get into midtown.”

I needed time to mentally prepare myself for the evening, and deciding where to go was a conversation that wouldn’t end quickly. I hadn’t been in any real social surroundings, other than work, in months. Though my outgoing nature had always been a part of me, I wasn’t sure what parts of me were left intact; I still felt uneasy.

“Sounds like a plan. I can’t wait!” Samantha released a loud smooching kiss into the phone and then hung up.

I was hesitant of how I would react to getting back into the scene, but I had to try to remember what life was like
BA
—Before Alexander.

CHAPTER TWO

“I have to say, you are a bit thinner than I like you, but you look as beautiful as I remember,” Samantha said, taking notice of the long black locks of hair that flowed over my overly thin shoulders.

Samantha was warm both in her embrace and with her words. She had been trying so hard to be a friend, and I had done nothing but make it impossible for her to do so.

“I’m going to take the compliment but not the remark about my weight. I’m not intentionally trying to lose weight; it just keeps coming off.” I gave her a slightly bothered look, reminding her not to push my limits, as I adjusted my dress, which hugged my hip bones that now protruded through the material.

“I know it’s been difficult, but you have to try to regain your life and accept the help that the people who love you are offering. Look, you made a mistake. You made a huge mistake. But you can still fix it. You are alive. That means that there can be a resolution to the sadness that has taken you over.” Samantha’s genuine concern filled my heart, and as my eyes swelled with tears, Samantha was, as always, right there to hold me. Reassuringly, Samantha wiped a tear off my cheek as it made its way down from my eyes. “You are not going to ruin your makeup. Tonight is about you, about a good time, and nothing else.”

As much as I wanted to believe her words, Alexander’s ghost haunted my thoughts continuously.

Making our way through midtown Manhattan, we walked arm in arm talking about anything—nothing; things with no significance and no need for contemplation. We decided to go to Bar 360, and though Samantha had failed to recall that that was where I first fell, literally, into Alexander’s arms, it was all
I
could think of. What kept me quiet was the idea that I really did like going to this locale. If I couldn’t handle going to a lounge we had shared in common, the healing process would be a lot harder than I had imagined.

We had, before all this, been regulars at 360. Walking up to the line of waiting partiers, we waved to the bouncer, who let us in the VIP entrance. As always, music blared from the brown stone building; coming from the back end where the dance floor was, and loud voices blared through the air especially the bar area. People shouted their orders over the crowd and to the bartenders.

It was great. I couldn’t hear myself think; this was a blessing that I would have killed for in the last three months.

Michael, our friend and bartender, saw us coming and made room at the overcrowded counter. He leaned in and gave us both pecks on the cheek and presented us with two shots. “This one’s on me, ladies. I’ve never been so happy to see you two.” He winked flirtatiously at me and turned to help the other patrons.

Samantha and I chatted and drank—and chatted some more and drank a lot more—and only an hour in, we were practically shit faced. Feeling giddy and free, I realized I was laughing for the first time in months.

The bad thing was, with all the alcohol in me, I had no filter; it was only a matter of time before the topic of Alexander came up. “You know, I can’t stand the fact that I miss him so much. I know I fucked up big time, and it is eating away at me. I made him hate me. You know that, Sam? I have never loved anyone the way I loved Alexander, but I fucked it up. I was too chicken shit, too fearful of trying and of having to sacrifice any part of me that, instead, I sacrificed him. I sacrificed the only love I have ever known. But at least I know he has moved on, right? Marcus said he was doing great. Hey, has Marcus heard from him recently?” I asked Samantha, lowering my eyes, holding back my tears, and swallowing the gulps of alcohol I had taken in.

Samantha was obviously both shocked that I was asking about Alexander as well as nervous about giving me an answer.

“Eva, he’s—”

But before Samantha could respond, I watched, squinting my eyes, trying to bring my view into focus as Marcus walked toward us.

“Sam, forget it,” I snapped at her, stopping her from continuing as Marcus approached us. She stared at me bewildered; my smile had turned into an annoyed expression, but once Marcus reached us, Samantha understood.

“Sam, Eva, what are you guys doing here?” Marcus asked as he kissed me on the cheek and Samantha on the lips. His face was tight and uncomfortable, and so was Samantha’s.

“Marcus, why didn’t you tell me you were coming here? We would have gone elsewhere. Eva, we should go,” Samantha nervously stated as she stood and quietly continued her discussion with Marcus as if I wasn’t even there.

Samantha’s expression mirrored the concern that Marcus wore, and it troubled me. Something wasn’t kosher, as they say. “Um, does one of you want to tell me why we need to leave? What’s the secret?” I asked.

But there was no need for an explanation. My heart thumped in my chest, and my senses awoke with a clear recollection of the quintessence that existed within me not too long ago; and it cut me like a thousand pieces of shattered glass.

Tilting my head to look slightly over my shoulder, I found the salvation and damnation that kept me bewildered.

Alexander!

I gasped as my eyes immediately shot up to his; we were once again meeting for the first time in the exact spot that had united us initially.

Alexander didn’t speak right away, but as he looked at me aghast, his smile turned sour. He wasn’t happy to see me, or so I assumed by his dry acknowledgement of my presence.

“Miss Chase, hello.”

But that was all he said, with no real emotion or significance behind it—nothing more, nothing less.

Alexander moved toward Marcus and whispered something into his ear, at which point, Marcus motioned to Samantha and kissed her before turning to me. “Eva, we’ll see you soon, I hope?”

They were leaving.

He
was leaving.

I couldn’t let him leave.

“You really don’t have to leave on my account. I was under the impression that we are all adults.” I threw out the first thing that came to me—the only thing that I thought would keep them there.

Samantha eyed me and mouthed,
I’m sorry
. She knew that I wouldn’t be able to handle this, and I knew only two things. One was that I was standing only a few feet from Alexander—a moment that I had prayed for every day for the last ninety days. And second, that I was sure to burst into tears if I continued to stay near him. But I couldn’t be the cause, yet again, for him departing.

“Look, I’m here to enjoy myself and my friends, so while you three decide whether or not you are going to stay, I’m going to have another drink,” I said, and then I prayed.

“Hey, Marcus, what can I get you, my man?” asked Michael when he came over to replenish our drinks. “Are you guys going to be here for a while? I’m getting off in a bit and then heading to a party if you guys wanna hang.” Michael spoke at me but eyed Alexander precariously.

The idea jolted me unexpectedly. Simultaneously staring at an unhappy Alexander as he watched the competition and processing the notion of having to spend the whole night with Romeo and Juliet, I leapt at the offer. “Sounds great, Michael. I’m in!” I said in my jolliest of voices.

Michael nodded and gave me his usual wink and went on to finish up his shift.

“Wow, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that my company had bored you so badly that you would jump at the opportunity to hang out with Michael and his fanatical group of friends,” Samantha said with attitude. “Careful, rebel, they are not our typical cup of tea. They could even scare you a bit.” Samantha worried about everything as she realized that I no longer cared about anything.

I was hurt, depressed, and empty, and I cared little about what would fill my void at this point. Not to mention that my every move was now being watched by my only anguish in life.

“Stop it, Sam. Michael’s a good guy. And anyway, the more the merrier, right”” I added as I nodded toward Alexander.

I finished my drink, and before Samantha could add a rebuttal, Michael had come out from behind the bar. “All set. Hey, let’s go dance a bit,” he said to me. “You guys aren’t leaving, are you?” Michael asked the rest of the group, since I had already put my name on the party list.

“No, we’ll stay a bit longer,” Samantha responded, but it was obvious—at least to me—that Samantha wasn’t staying to party. She was staying to watch over me.

“Here, one more shot before we go.” Michael handed me the shot. “You can’t turn down a free shot, so bottoms up.” And as he threw back his shot of tequila and sucked on a lime, Samantha shot daggers at me through her stare.

“Eva, don’t you think that’s enough drinks for you?” Samantha asked angrily.

“Sam, don’t you think that’s enough talking for you? Chill. I haven’t had a good time since—” And realizing what I was going to say, I gulped the shot—out of pure desperation. “Now, that’s enough. Come on, Michael, let’s go dance.” I took Michael by the hand and led him stumbling through the crowd and onto the dance floor.

Other books

Three-way Tie by Sierra Cartwright
Californium by R. Dean Johnson
The Boys from Binjiwunyawunya by Robert G. Barrett
The Taking by McCarthy, Erin
Red Hourglass by Scarlet Risqué
Amber Eyes by Mariana Reuter
Her Father's Daughter by Alice Pung
The Finale by Treasure Hernandez


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024