by Lisa De Jong
The apartment is quiet when I step inside. It’s a relief because I look like a woman who spent her day having sex, which is exactly what Blake doesn’t want to see.
I shower, wrapping myself in my favorite blue robe. My phone buzzes just as I begin looking for something comfortable to wear to bed.
REECE: Where were you today?
ME: Long story…
REECE: Do you want to meet for a couple drinks?
I ponder her invitation carefully, deciding it’s better than sticking around here alone all night.
ME: Where and what time?
She immediately begins typing.
REECE: Charlie’s at 7:00? Dana will be working…
ME: Sounds like a plan. I’ll meet you there.
If I woke up tomorrow morning and didn’t have a man in my life, I’d still have my girls. It’s important to remember that.
I slip on a simple white tank and skinny jeans, letting my hair dry naturally to show off my natural wave. The humidity is getting more and more suffocating with each passing day; it’s my hair’s worst nightmare.
After debating whether I should call a cab, I settle on walking. It’s still light outside after all, and it’s only a few blocks. The journey brings back memories of who I was when I first arrived in Chicago, highlighting how far I’ve come from the naïve, weakened girl who landed months ago.
Walking in, I spot the familiar Monday crowd sitting at the bar. Reece stands out from the rest of the crowd in her quirky business wear. She smiles slowly when she spots me coming toward her, a wave of relief showing on her face. By now, she should know Charlie’s isn’t a place you want to get to early. It’s definitely not the type of place you have to run to in order to beat the crowds.
“What took you so long?” she asks as I slide onto the barstool next to her.
I glance down at my watch. “It’s 7:03.”
“Seriously?” she says, wrinkling her nose. “It feels like I’ve been here for at least an hour.”
I laugh. “Charlie’s will do that to you. Is Dana working?”
“Charlie said she’s on break.”
Speaking of Charlie, he’s making his way to this end of the bar with a big grin on his face.
“Are you looking for a job?” he teases. It’s his first question every single time.
“No, Charlie, but I will take a drink.”
He shakes his head. “Can’t hurt to ask. The usual?”
“Yes, and if you want to save yourself time, bring me two.”
He shoots me a look, and I shoot one right back to let him know just how serious I am. He retreats.
Lila Fields really has come a long way.
“Spill,” Reece says as soon as Charlie is out of earshot.
“What do you want to know first?” I ask, grabbing a handful of salty peanuts from the bowl on the bar top.
“Where the heck were you all day? I went to your desk at least ten times, and you weren’t there.”
“I had a meeting this morning, and then Pierce decided to give us both the rest of the day off.”
“That doesn’t sound fair,” she scoffs, taking a sip of her martini. She’s the only person who drinks Charlie’s martinis.
“He messed up, and I think he knew he had to fix it.”
Charlie puts my drinks down in front of me. I waste no time downing a few sips of the ice-cold liquid.
I continue, “Somewhere in his head, he thought it would be a good idea to pull me into the conference room when he knew Blake would be arriving at any time for a meeting. I didn’t know he was coming, or I wouldn’t have … you know.”
“What exactly were you doing in the conference room?”
Closing my eyes, the vision of what Blake must have seen flashes, but I quickly blink it away. “He had me pinned against the wall, kissing me. I guess he wanted to mark his territory.”
Her eyes widen. “That’s not cool at all. What happened?”
I sigh, massaging my fingertips over my temples. “Blake … and Jane saw everything. I was so upset because I don’t feel like Pierce trusts me. If he did, he wouldn’t do that. And, if he’s trying to hurt Blake, it doesn’t have to tear me down in the process. I left for a few minutes, and when I came back, Blake was gone. I let Pierce have it, and we spent the rest of the afternoon making up.”
“That’s it? You just forgave him?”
Love makes forgiveness easy. Love is overwhelming—anger doesn’t stand up well against it.
“I love him.”
“And, Blake?” she asks.
“What about him?”
I finish what’s left of my first drink. “How did he handle this?”
“He was gone when I got back to the room.”
There’s a rare silence between us. I remember when I was young, my mom used to give me the silent treatment when she was angry with me. She’d wait until she didn’t want to yell before addressing whatever she needed to. Reece is doing that to me now. She has to be because she doesn’t do silence well.
“Do you remember after Blake left? Do you remember what you told me?”
I nod. My heart was torn in a million little pieces, and I had to talk to someone.
“And you know how I feel about Pierce?”
I nod again.
“Blake doesn’t deserve any of this from him. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be stuck between the two of them, but this isn’t right.”
“What do you suggest I do then? Break things off with Pierce? Cut ties with Blake completely? What is it that you’d like me to do?” This last week has been so frustrating; it’s finally boiling over.
“I just don’t want you to be stuck between them,” she says quietly. “It won’t end well … not for anyone.”
She makes sense. She always makes sense. “I’ll figure it out. I just need to wrap up this project first.”
An arm wraps around my neck. “Hey, what are you two doing here on a Monday?”
“Charlie is being extra generous with his breaks these days,” I tease. When I look back, I see Dana’s other arm wrapped around Reece. The three complete opposites reunited again.
“It’s slow, and I had some homework to do.”
“I’m softening in my old age,” Charlie chimes in. I hadn’t noticed him standing in front of us.
I laugh. “You better watch it, Charlie, or you’re going to end up with a girlfriend or something crazy like that.”
He smirks. “Whatever. That wouldn’t be crazy … it would be fucking insane. I’m going to leave the hen party before I start growing breasts. Anything I can get you girls right now?”
Looking down at my full glass, I shake my head. Reece gestures that she’s done.
“Lightweights,” he mumbles.
“See, he hasn’t changed that much,” Dana says as he walks away. “So back to my original question … what brings the two of you in? It’s like reunion night in here.”
“We have a case of the Mondays,” I answer. “A bad case that only alcohol can cure.”
“Is the design business a little rough these days?”
Reece snorts. “It’s the men in the design business that are a little too complicated these days.”
“If it makes you feel any better, Blake just left an hour ago. I think he cleaned us all out of Jack Daniel’s.”
My heart drops. Pierce may as well have poured a bottle down his throat. I didn’t help. “Did he say where he was going?” I ask.
“Charlie called him a cab. Maybe he knows.”
“I need to check on him,” I say, throwing a few bills on the bar. I turn to Reece. “I hate to cut this short.”
She waves me off. “I understand. Go.”
“I’ll get the address from Charlie,” Dana pipes in. She knows some of what went down between Blake and I—how it ended—but I haven’t told her everything.
I can’t stand the thought of Blake alone, especially when I know what he’s been through. Especially when I have no idea what Pi
erce said before he left earlier or what was going through his head.
“Here’s the address,” she says, handing me a piece of paper. “Good luck.”
After saying a quick goodbye, I grab a cab and read off the address I recognize as Blake’s studio. It’s not far from here, but it feels like forever before we pull into the rundown warehouse district. It’s excruciating—not knowing what I’m going to find when I get there or knowing if he’ll even be there.
When we pull up in front of Blake’s building, light shines through a single window. I pay the driver and step outside, my nerves on end as I walk up the metal stairs. I debate whether I should knock or just walk in; the second option wins only because my patience is worn so thin. I just need to know he’s okay.
The door opens much to my relief, a faint light shining in the room that’s very familiar to me—the one where he cemented himself deeper in my heart. Just placing my hand on the knob brings some of those old feelings back up.
I’m not sure what I expected when I opened the door, but this isn’t it. The protective covering that used to be on the walls is gone, replaced by splatters of paint.
Blake stands against one wall, paint covering his clothes and face. He looks as if he just completed a full twenty-six miles. His eyes lock on mine, and all I read is misery.
Agony.
Grief.
Torment.
There’s a reason he’s a brilliant artist.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, sounding out of breath.
“Dana said you’d been at the bar this afternoon. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
He takes a few steps toward me. I shift my gaze from him to the walls, needing to break the intensity. He’s too much.
“Do you really care, Lila, or are you playing the game right along with him?”
“I’m not playing any games,” I answer, not bothering to address Pierce. His agenda is a little different than mine. “I didn’t know you were coming this morning. I never would have … I never would have done that to you.”
His chest brushes mine, and I close my eyes. My knees tremble. My cheeks flush. I should never have come here, but deep down inside, I wanted to. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. I don’t know who to trust.”
“You can trust me,” I say faintly, not bothering to open my eyes.
His breath hits my lips. “And how do I know that?”
I finally open my eyes looking right into his. “You should know by now that I can’t look into your eyes and lie to you. You can trust me. Your secrets are still mine.”
His forearm rests above my head, leaving even less space between us. I smell the whiskey. Some of the wet paint soaks my tank. “Can I show you something?”
“What?” I ask, heart pounding against his.
“This.” His lips crash into mine. At first, I fight it—with little effort, I try to push him back—but my body remembers him and curves into his.
The moon is always there. It changes shape, and sometimes you can’t see it at all, but it’s always there. It’s a lot like love.
It changes.
It fades.
But it’s still there.
When Blake’s lips touch mine, it’s a full moon. No one has ever made me feel the way he does. I can try to convince myself otherwise, but he’s the one that shines brighter than all others—past and present.
He cups my face in his hands, tugging my lower lip between his, then kissing each corner of my mouth the way he used to. His lips press harder into mine. I get the familiar smoky taste of whiskey. He traces the tip of his tongue along my lips, quietly begging for entrance. With no sense of control, I let him in.
He tastes.
The moon beams at me.
His tongue tangles with mine.
And, I want to cry.
This is what he wanted to show me. No love I’ve ever felt is more intense than this. No one else makes me feel the way he does.
He’s the full moon. Everyone else is simply a crescent.
I wrap my arms around his neck, my body melting into his.
He kisses me breathless.
He kisses me to clarity.
He kisses me until all I want to do for the rest of my life is be with him just like this.
My lips tingle as time passes, and it doesn’t even matter that I can’t feel them. He’s imbedded deep down—a place that only he can get to. He slowly pulls away only to brush feather light kisses along my jawline.
I want to hold him close and never let him go.
“Do you see it now?” he whispers against my lips.
I shake my head, and he immediately lowers his eyes. “Look at me.”
He won’t look, and I know exactly what he’s thinking.
“Blake, please look at me.”
He backs away, arms hanging at his side. It takes a few seconds, but he finally glances back up.
Without hesitation, I move closer, grabbing one of his hands between mine. “I didn’t see it, but I felt it.” Lifting his hand to my chest, I let him feel how quickly my heart beats. “I felt it right here.”
I can’t lie to him. I can’t lie to myself.
Tears fill his eyes before he wraps me tightly in his arms, spreading kisses along my neck. “Does that mean I have a chance?” he asks, hesitantly.
“I don’t know, Blake. So much has happened between us—so many things I can’t just forget.”
He pulls away, cradling my cheeks in his hands. “Since I left, has there ever been a day you didn’t think of me?”
A single tear slips from my eye. “Not a single hour has gone by that I didn’t think of you.”
“Even when you’re with him?”
“Even then,” I answer honestly. Blake has been in the back of my mind since he left. I compare the things Pierce does to the way Blake did them, but when I’m with Blake, my only thought of Pierce is the guilt I feel for being with Blake. The obvious answer to where my heart lies shows in my thoughts.
His thumbs caress my cheekbones. “I can’t stand to watch you with him. When we’re all in the same room … when I watch the way he looks at you or how he touches you. I can’t do it knowing that you were mine … knowing what it feels like to be him. My fingers ache to feel your skin. My heart bleeds slowly every second you’re not with me, and I don’t know how much more I can take before there’s nothing left of me. I miss you so fucking much that there aren’t enough words to even say it.”
“What are you saying?” I cry.
“I’m saying that I made the biggest fucking mistake of my life letting you go, and I want you back. I’d do anything you ask me to, Lila. Anything. But, if I can’t have you, I need to move on … out of this city. The constant reminders of us are killing me.”
The guy who always seemed so sure of himself doesn’t seem so sure anymore.
“Make a choice,” he begs. “And when you do, listen to your heart. That’s how I found my way back to you.”
Thoughts flash through my head like a fireworks display … some louder than others … some leaving more of an impact. My love for Blake is different than what I feel for Pierce, and there’s only one I can’t live without. Deep down, I’ve known it all along.
“You have to promise me something.”
“Anything,” he murmurs, kissing my lips.
It’s hard to think when he’s doing that. “Actually there are two things.”
He slips the strap of my top off my shoulder, kissing from there to my collarbone. “I’m waiting.”
“Would you still want me back if I wasn’t with him?
“Hell yes. I came back before I even knew.”
I nod. He moves to the other shoulder.
“And, I need you to stay. No matter how hard things get—what demons invade—I need to know you’ll let me help you through it. That you’ll help me through mine.”
Finally, he looks back into my eyes. “I can’t promise that I won’t need a break, but I promise that I’ll
always come back. Every day, I work through it, and every day, it gets a little better. We both just need a little patience.”
I nod again. I can live with that.
He untucks my shirt, running his fingers along my bare stomach. I grip his wrist before he can go any further. “There’s one more piece.” My heart aches just thinking about it. “I need to talk to him first. I never wanted to be this girl, and if I don’t stop this now before I have a chance to talk to him, the guilt is going to follow me.”
“I want to come with you.”
“This is something I just need to do.”
“I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to,” I admit.
His hands fall away from me. “When?”
“Tomorrow.”
He scrubs his hands over his chiseled jaw, and I imagine them all over me … where they should have been all along. “I’m going to stay here tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t stand the thought of going back to that apartment and not having you in my bed.”
I’m at a loss for words. I can’t imagine what it will be like to be with him again. It’s surreal.
The only sound is a train close by. I came here tonight for one purpose, and it turned into something else. How do I walk away from this?
“It’s getting late. I should probably be going.”
“Let me change, and I’ll give you a ride.”
“Thank you.”
His hand rests against my cheek as he presses his lips to mine one last time. “I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
After he slips away, I wander around the warehouse. The painting he did the other night is perched against the wall. Even in the dark, its beauty is evident.
I wonder if the picture of me still hangs after everything we went through. With bated breath, I walk to the corner where it was hanging the last time I was here.
Arms wrap around me from behind. “That one was never going anywhere.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“It shows exactly what I see when I look at you.”
His words are making it harder to be here with him like this without going further. “Should we go?” I ask, consciously breaking the perfect moment.