Authors: Jennifer Rose
I showered, dressed and tried to rehearse what to say in my head, knowing that there was no easy way to say ‘you fell in love with a brawd that has a brain tumor’. How do you say that with a delicate touch? I shrugged my shoulders at the image in the mirror and vowed that no matter what, I wasn’t going to cry, turn into a basket case or curl up and die.
I heard the door click open and my heart nearly leapt from my chest. I brushed my hair, took a deep cleansing breath and walked out into the living area. Gage held up a fancy bottle of tawny colored liquid and two glasses. Neither of us moved, frozen in time, not really sure where to begin.
“Scotch,” Gage said, breaking the silence. “Dalmore, single malt only the best.”
“That’s like a two hundred dollar bottle of whiskey.”
“Like I said only the best, besides I don’t give shit what it cost. Where do you want to sit?”
“The balcony?”
“Balcony it is,” Gage said, putting the bottle and glasses on the counter and walking over to the sofa.
I stood back and watched in amazement as Gage slid the two seated sofa through the sliding door like it was just a pillow. After rearranging the balcony, he handed me the bottle of scotch, grabbed the glasses and took my hand in his, escorting me to the balcony and the new seating plan.
Curled up at one end of the sofa, sheltered from the drizzle of the rain, Gage covered my legs with a throw from the bedroom and sat at the other end. He poured the scotch carefully into each glass and handed me one. Chinking our glasses together, we each took a sip of the warm liquid. It burned as it trickled smoothly past my throat and warmed my belly.
“I should have asked if you wanted ice,” Gage said, taking another sip.
“No thanks. Ice only waters it down, a crime to an excellent scotch.” I took another good sized mouthful and swirled it around before swallowing and sucking in a breath of cold air.
“So, I know you’re a scotch drinker, you’re a paralegal from New York, no longer a virgin and you make the most intoxicating sounds when you cum. But what I don’t know, what I want to know, is why I tell you I love you and you don’t get all thrilled and teary eyed or anything.”
“I am thrilled, I love you too. It’s just,” I fought back tears, dammit I said I wouldn’t cry.
I took a huge swig of my scotch and held out my glass for a refill and watched as he unscrewed the cap, threw it onto the patio table and filled my glass to the brim.
“It’s what? I don’t understand. I want to scream from the roof tops and your hiding in the basement, you look all sad. You don’t want to love me?” he asked, looking rejected.
Fuck what was I doing? Spit it out, get it out in the open, it’s now or never. Do it. I roared in my mind.
“I do love you. I do want to love you. But this wasn’t supposed to happen, I wasn’t supposed to come on this cruise and fall in love. It was supposed to be self-indulgent, greedy, spending all my time on me. Make the most of my last fifty five days being a selfish bitch. Me, myself and I. You weren’t part of the plan.”
Gage looked out at the ocean, up at the sky then poured a full glass of whiskey and shot the whole thing back in one large mouthful.
“Let me get this right,” he ran his hand through his hair, got up and walked over to the railing, the rain dripping onto his face.
“You love me. You want to love me. But loving me wasn’t or isn’t what was supposed to happen, so you’re telling me we have no future?”
Being honest with myself I said the first thing I could. “I don’t know what the future holds for me.”
“And there’s no place in it for me?”
“I don’t know Gage, I just don’t know.”
“Well…when you find out, let me know. Or don’t, whatever.” He slammed his glass on the patio table and stormed away.
The room door slammed into the wall when he threw it open to leave and I burst into the tears, that I promised I wouldn’t shed. He hadn’t given me the chance to tell him everything and I had totally fucked up the one and only sure thing in my life.
***
Don’t let anyone tell you that top quality alcohol is less likely to give you a hangover. Because I was pretty sure that I was going to die from alcohol poisoning, as I lay my cheek against the cold porcelain toilet after spending a mass amount of time throwing up.I crawled to the bed and climbed back under the sheets, closed my eyes and cried myself to sleep.
Alone.
I dreamt terrible things, horrible things, images of my cold dead body lying on a slab and Gage crying at my feet. Gage shaking his head and running away at the sight of me drooling in a wheelchair with bandages wrapped around my head. Gage throwing dirt onto a coffin with the word ‘Forgiveness’ inscribed in black letters across a red ribbon, woven through a bouquet of flowers.
I woke with a start and a sharp, familiar pain in my head. I took a pill, grabbed my phone and crawled back into bed. Several times I started to dial Gage’s number only to end the call before it connected, started writing a text and canceled it before sending and went back to sleep.
Day 22
Sitting with my coffee staring at the empty seat across the table, where Philippe set a cup for Gage, not having the guts to tell him that I was alone, I took a deep breath and stilled more tears from falling.
Less than twelve hours and I missed him miserably. Like you miss breathing, like you miss the sun rising and setting each day. My gut was one giant knot, it ached terribly and no pill was going to take that kind of pain away. I just needed to talk to him, tell him, let him in and let him decide what road to take, let the chips fall where they may.
I picked up my phone and dialed Gage’s number but it went directly to voicemail over and over and I hung up deciding to text instead.
Gage we need to finish our talk. I love you. T.
Time ticked at a turtle’s pace while I anticipated a text in return. I was beginning to lose hope that he would text back, when I heard the familiar beep from my phone.
I need time. I need to be away from you for now. Philippe will collect my things. G.
I looked sadly at the screen reading the text over and over. No I love you. No I hate you. Not even an eat-shit-and-die. Anything would have been better than nothing at all.
You need to know something important. You have to listen to me. T.
No Tandy. G.
The knock at the door startled me but I knew it would be Philippe and sadly not the man I needed to be there. I packed up Gage’s things in silence with Philippe’s help and he loaded it all onto a trolley and gave me a knowing nod as he wheeled it into the hall and closed the door behind him.
It was like a final slap to the face, a final goodbye, a reminder that I should have sent him packing the first night he told me his name. Then I wouldn’t have torn his heart out and hurt us both.
I sent him a last text simply saying:
Sorry. T.
***
The briney water looked as dark and cold as I felt, as I stood staring out at the ocean just inside the sliding door. Philippe had just dropped my things off and I had turned from my neatly packed luggage with no desire to put it away and without so much as a thank you.
My heart was heavy like I was grieving a death. Not believing that this could happen twice in a lifetime. First Paula tore out my heart when she slept with Wayne, my best friend since grade school, and now Tandy, the one love of my life. The only woman that ever made me truly feel whole, complete and secure, was pushing me away with her secrets and fears. Sure that she was my future, I put my heart out there only to be shunted out of hers.
Tightening my jaw I avowed to keep a distance and not see her, feel her or smell her mind-altering scent. Afraid that things, hurtful things, would be said and gray shadows would cloud over what we had shared, I would just stay away.
The cell phone vibrated wildly across the coffee table and I glanced over wondering whether to ignore it. I turned back to the view outside and lost myself in my memories.
Tandy’s smile when we met had me mesmerized. The way she curled up her nose when she lost at slots, the gleam in her eyes when I took her hand and led her around. The
mmm
sound she made when we shared the chocolate dipped strawberries just the other night. Her hunger for me and the way she moaned out my name as her climax came to an end and the taste of her that lingered on my tongue.
“No! I can’t do it, I can’t stay way,” I announced to the wind, as it blustered past my face.
I loved her desperately, needed her like I needed air, more than anything. I was going to go to her and beg her to take me back, beg for her forgiveness and tell her that I didn’t need to know anything except that she loved me. In time I would convince her to consider the idea of a future together.
Rushing to the door, I grabbed the handle and tugged it open, stopping dead in my track when an all too familiar face stood in front of me and smiled.
“Finally, I found you.”
“What are you doing here, Paula?” I said with a sour, hateful look.
“I came looking for you babes, I miss you, I thought we could catch up.” She stepped forward and I moved my arm across the door’s frame stopping her. The last thing I was in the mood for was a confrontation with this bitch.
“Where’s Wayne?”
“Oh, Wayne and I are finished. Can I come in?” she asked, with an exaggerated pout.
“No. Go away Paula, I have nothing to say to you.” She made me want to puke, physically throw up right there on the spot. This was the last person I wanted to see, I had more important things to take care of, one of which was right next door.
“Don’t be mean, babes,” Paula said, stepping forward to hug me causing me to pull back with a jerk.
“Don’t call me that.” I liked the pet name she gave me when we were a couple. But detested it now, remembering hearing her cry it out as she rode Wayne’s cock, while I looked on from our bedroom threshold.
“You always liked it when I called you that.”
“What do you want?” I demanded, exasperated with only the few minutes of time she had already taken up.
“I was so wrong about Wayne. I should have never slept with him. I hurt you and I’m sorry. I want to make it up to you, babes.”
“I don’t think so,” I said, as I backed away and attempted to close the door. Paula moved her foot into the doorway and blocked me. My nostrils flared and all I saw was red.
“Why? Is there someone else?”
“None of your fucking business,” I snarled, the muscles along my jaw clamped tight holding back the urge to physically throw her ass overboard.
“I saw you with that chick next door, she’s real sweet. Let’s go see her together.”
And the evil bitch is back
.
“You stay the fuck away from her.” I moved forward and then pulled back, taking in a cleansing breath gaining control before I did something we would both regret and stepped back.
“Too late, babes. I met her a few days ago when I knocked at her door looking for you, she said she didn’t know you, but I’m not stupid. I saw you kissing all over her by the pool. Maybe you can introduce us formally. I think we’d get along great, maybe become bff’s, you never know eh?” She winked and I grabbed her arm as she moved towards Tandy’s door.
“Leave her alone. Leave me alone, I don’t want anything to do with you.”
She moved closer so she could whisper, so close I could smell the sickly scent of patchouli oil. “Huh, well say hi to George for me the next time you talk to him. By the way, does Daddy’s little girl know who you are?”
Our two year relationship prior to my incarceration had been a rocky one to say the least. I recalled one of many scenes she caused at a Manning family day barbeque, where she sent both me and my father into the pool and splashing her drink in George’s face when he threatened to have her escorted from his property. Mr. Manning had advised me to take my leave of her then and there, offering me the guest house and money to help.
Shaking my head, I wished I’d listened to Mr. M. I was so crazy in love or at least I thought. I put up with her temper tantrums and disruptive behavior for another year, before her cheating ass opened my veiled eyes. Unfortunately by then I was an emotional mess and chaos seemed to follow me like an ominous black cloud. Although I wouldn’t admit to having regrets, I did often anguish over that crazy night I met Lorenzo and stupidly chose to take the wrong fork in the road, a fork that ended in a three year prison stay. Five years of my life wasted, never again.
My hand clamped onto her elbow and pulled her into the room closing the door quietly behind us. She was a contemptible bitch and I knew from experience that she was not one to be tested. If she said she was going to do something, that’s exactly what she would do. Come hell or high water.
“She knows who I am,” I attested.
“Ah, but does she know who you work for?”
Rubbing my hand over my chin, feeling the rough stubble of the last few days reminding me of missed showers and a lack of sleep, I clenched my jaw until it hurt. I retrieved a beer from the bar fridge without asking if she wanted anything, this was not a social meeting and I was not in the mood to be the gracious host. I watched her carefully as I twisted the cap off the beer and chucked it at the waste basket missing it completely but not caring one way or another.
“What is it you’re really looking for? And don’t bullshit me, I know you too well.”
“Fine, be that way.” She took the beer from my hand and took a long pull. “Fifty grand keeps my mouth shut.”
Taking my shirt tail, I wiped the neck of the bottle before taking a mouthful, not interested in sharing spit with this bitch, which would be like sucking the venom from a widow spider. “Please, until it runs out and you come back looking for more.”
“Swear. Fifty grand and I disappear for good,” she said, crossing her fingers over her heart.
I laughed at the gesture knowing that no heart lay behind her designer blouse. “Where am I supposed to get that kind of money?”