Determination

by S. E. Rose

She finishes the song, and I hear her voice crack on the last word and it literally breaks my motherfucking heart. I watch the screen as she brushes a tear away. There’s clapping from the audience that’s present in the studio.

  “Wow, that’s quite a love ballad,” the DJ says.

  “Yes, it’s a very special song to me,” she admits.

  “Is it written for someone in particular?” the DJ asks.

  “Yes, yes, it is,” she says.

  “Mr. Ryder?” he asks.

  “I don’t comment on my personal life, but nice try, Randy,” she quips.

  He wraps up the show and thanks her for being on it and then Rick turns it off.

  “She wrote it for you.” He states the obvious.

  “Thanks, douchebag, I wasn’t sure about that.” I smother on the sarcasm.

  “Well, you’re fucking welcome. I was going to get you Starbucks, but I think I’ll just go grab a long lunch and fuck my boyfriend,” he says haughtily and exits my office. I roll my eyes and grimace at his words. Jesus, why does he say that stuff in the office, it’s not like I talk that way to him when we’re here. I really should chastise him, but I can’t. At least one of us is getting laid.

  I sigh and look down at my phone. I want so badly to call her and tell her I heard her beautiful song and, yet, I can’t do it. My pride is eating my brain and I can’t make myself call her.

  My phone rings and I momentarily have a heart palpitation except it’s Laura’s name that pops up on my screen.

  “Hey,” I say to her.

  “Did you hear it?” she practically screams. She’s been riding my ass since I got home. Jack apparently filled her in on some of what happened and against my better judgement I told her the rest.

  “Yes, and it’s good to talk to you too, sis,” I say with thick sarcasm.

  “Jesse, please tell me you called her.”

  “I didn’t call her.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because.”

  “Because?”

  “Yes, because.”

  “You are seriously thick. She just poured her heart out on national radio and you didn’t call her?” Laura is now on the verge of actually screaming.

  “Correct.”

  “If you don’t call her, I’m uninviting you to Thanksgiving,” she announces.

  I roll my eyes.

  “Don’t roll your eyes at me, mister,” she says without missing a beat. Jesus, the woman knows me too well.

  “And say what exactly?”

  “Tell her you miss her and that you should talk and that, fuck, I don’t know, Jesse, tell her how you feel,” she says.

  “That’s just it, Laura. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know what I feel,” I try to explain.

  “Do you love her?”

  I sigh again. “I don’t know. I thought I did and then everything happened and…I don’t know.”

  “Jesse, do you remember when you lied about not making the soccer team?” Laura asks me.

  “Of course, I fucking remember,” I retort.

  “And why did you lie?”

  “Because I didn’t want to upset Mom and Dad,” I say.

  “And so you pretended to go to practice for like three weeks until Dad managed to get off early and showed up at your game and then what happened?” she asks.

  “He found out and he was super pissed, and I got grounded for a week for lying.”

  “But you did it because you didn’t want to disappoint him,” she says.

  “I know that, but this is different.”

  “How?”

  “Because we could have been killed.”

  “But that’s beside the point; her intentions weren’t from a bad place. She was trying to protect you.”

  “Well, that’s ridiculous.”

  “Jesus, Jesse, can you get over yourself for two seconds. She loves you. She didn’t just go on an internationally syndicated radio show and sing a song bleeding her heart out over the airwaves for you because she doesn’t love you. That woman is trying to apologize. Don’t let your pride get in the way of your love. Life is too short. We’ve all got issues, but to have someone who doesn’t care and sees past them…well…you don’t find that every day. Just think about it, please,” she begs me.

  “Fine.”

  “OK, talk to you later,” she says and disconnects.

  I stew over Laura’s words and Vanessa’s song all day. Rick texts me later in the afternoon.

  Rick: You are booked to go out to California tomorrow night.

  Jesse: Why?

  Rick: The launch of your new subsidiary??

  Jesse: Oh, right.

  Rick: You’re welcome.

  Jesse: Thanks.

  Rick: (middle finger emoji)

  Jesse: Guess I deserve that.

  Rick: Yep.

  Jesse: Sorry.

  Rick: Forgiven.

  I smile at our texts. He’s an ass, but he’s my friend and I love that guy.

  I contemplate a lot that night, tossing and turning. I want to be mad at her. I am mad at her, but deep down I still love her. Maybe it’s more that I’m hurt. Hurt she didn’t confide in me. Hurt that she lied to me, yes, a lie by omission but it’s still a lie.

  I fall asleep as the sun comes up and I am late to my next meeting. By the time I get on my jet that night, I’m ready to crash. Baxter sits down with another book, Little Women.

  “Seriously,” I say to him.

  “What?” he asks.

  “Little Women? I think you just left your man card at the door.”

  “Fuck off, Jesse. I’m in a book club now and this is what we’re reading.”

  “Who are the other members of this book club? Are they thirteen years old and wearing training bras?”

  “No, they are not.”

  “Well, I hope she’s worth it,” I say.

  He smiles. “I hope so too.”

  I laugh and shake my head and stare out the window.

  “You talk to her yet?” he asks me.

  “Who?” I ask, knowing full well who he’s talking about.

  He gives me the look.

  “No.”

  “Well, grow a pair and do it.”

  “What?!”

  “You heard me. So she screwed up, she’s human, dude. Just tell her how you feel. She certainly told you.”

  “Jesus, does everyone know about that?” I say incredulously.

  “Uh, yeah, man. She was on the radio.”

  “Yeah, so I heard.”

  He throws up his hand at me. “You need help. If you don’t go talk to her, it will eat you alive for the rest of your life.”

  I open my laptop and begin working. Eventually, I nod off in the middle of an email and come to as we are landing. We go straight to the hotel and I fall asleep only to be woken by my alarm way too early.

  The meetings go well the next day. At lunch, we break for the day and I find myself sitting on my hotel balcony staring out at the ocean.

  My phone pings and I look down. I start to look away and my eyes dart back to the screen. It’s a text from Stan. Why the fuck is Vanessa’s dad texting me?

  Stan: I was looking through some old beach photos and found this one. I never realized the meaning behind it until we met you and Vanessa told me about you. I thought you should know.

  There’s a photo attached, and I enlarge it and stare dumbfounded. It’s a photo of me sitting on the beach staring out at the waves. It’s the last time I went there. I was in my early twenties, in college. I was so sad. It was a tough time, right around the anniversary of my dad’s death. I didn’t want to hang out with any of my friends or family like I used to do when I was younger. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I just moped around and sat on the beach a lot by myself. Someone had made a huge heart in the sand and wrote “Those who do not weep, do not see.” I know it’s a quote from Les Miserables. I don’t know if I knew it then. At the bottom of the heart, it is signed “From Someone Who Sees You.” I ne
ver knew who wrote it, but in the photo I can see a young Vanessa finishing the last words as she looks toward me. I never told anyone about that, nor did I capture that sweet gesture. I wasn’t even entirely sure it was meant for me, except now it is quite clear it was. Did she remember this? Did she know it was me?

  All of a sudden my heart starts to pound and I know I need to see her. My heart fucking belongs to this damned woman. I don’t care that she lied, that she didn’t confide in me, the hell with it. I love her and clearly she loved me even before she knew me.

  I run inside and find Baxter. “We need to go to Malibu, now,” I say. He chucks his book on the table and follows me out to the car.

  Baxter is a badass. Mostly because Baxter can drive like an Indy racer and a Grand Prix racer rolled into one and he does so without getting a single ticket. We get to Malibu as the sun is setting. Baxter has called ahead, and Dean answers the door.

  “She’s out back, on the beach,” he says. “She’s been waiting for you. I should kick the living shit out of you right now because her heart has literally been breaking since you left her.”

  I nod at him and plow past him heading toward mon étoile, mon coeur. I see her sitting on the beach staring out at the ocean and setting sun. I know what I’m going to do before I even make it through her back door. I take off my shoes and roll up my trousers and walk out behind her. I make a heart in the sand and inscribe it with the same words she did all those years ago. I take a photo of it and I send it to her father.

  He replies immediately.

  Stan: Take care of my girl. Her heart is pure and it’s now in your capable hands.

  My eyes glaze over realizing that he has given me his blessing. I walk slowly back up to the house and take a seat on the deck. I know she can’t see me from here, but I can see her. I watch her wipe her face. Clearly, she’s been crying, and I want nothing more than to run down to the beach and take her in my arms and kiss every fucking beautiful inch of her, but I remain still. She has to see the message.

  Eventually, just as the last sunlight disappears and the pink and purple streaks are all that’s left, she rises and turns. She’s about to step right on the heart when she stops mid-step. She’s literally frozen as she looks at the heart and reads the message. She shakes her head and looks around but seeing no one she falls to her feet at the bottom of the heart and begins to weep. Her head is in her hands, and I know that’s my cue. I walk down to her.

  I kneel in the sand at her feet. “Please forgive me,” I whisper to her. I’m on one knee and I know the words I want to say before my mind can catch up with me. “I love you, Vanessa. And I’m pretty sure you love me. At least after listening to your new song, I think you do. I don’t want to live without you either.” I take a finger and lift her chin. I gently pull her hands away from her eyes. My heart breaks as I see how swollen they are from crying. I wipe the tears away as they fall down her face. “Marry me? I don’t want to live without you.”

  Her eyes widen, and she doesn’t speak for the longest time. “H-how d-did you know?” she stutters at me looking back at the heart.

  “A little bird told me,” I say with a grin. She shakes her head in disbelief. I know eventually I’ll show her the photo her father has texted me, but not right now.

  “But…I…why would you want me?” she asks.

  I cup her face in my hands. “Because, mon étoile, mon coeur, I can’t live without you. I’ve tried and I’m miserable,” I say as I search her eyes. “Just promise me one thing, no more secrets.”

  “Oh, Jesse,” she yelps and throws her arms around my neck. The force of her movement has us falling over and soon I’m leaning over her body in the sand.

  “Is that a yes?” I ask her.

  She giggles, and I kiss her all over her face, tasting her salty tears and her, just her. “Yes,” she breathes. “Yes, yes, yes. A million times yes,” she says and pulls me to her lips.

  We lie there for an eternity, kissing one another until I can feel her shivering from the drop in temperature. It’s dark now and I pull us up and swat the sand off of her shorts.

  “Let’s get you inside,” I say to her.

  “One second,” she says, and she snaps a selfie of us in front of the heart.

  “OK, let’s go home,” she says and grabs my hand. Home, I like the sound of that coming from her voice.

  Epilogue

  Jesse’s Playlist: “Are You Gonna Be My Girl” by Jet

  Two months later…

  Vanessa rolls over and looks at me. “I’m surprised you wanted to come back here,” she whispers.

  We are lying naked on the bed of our bungalow. Our bungalow on Moorea is actually a small villa on the water that I have purchased for us. We can walk out to the reef or sit and stare at it from our bed. It’s a small one-bedroom villa, but it’s perfect. I also built a small bungalow next door to it for our security detail, begrudgingly, but I did it.

  I caress her cheek and we lie side by side staring at one another. “Well, Mrs. Ryder, I didn’t want to forget the place where I fell in love with you.”

  I pull her against me and kiss her and she moans against my lips. We’ve been here two weeks now and I don’t know if I ever want to leave. However, Vanessa has told me it’s not a choice because her tour starts in eight weeks and she has to get back to rehearsals. I thought for sure she’d want a big wedding, but instead we opted to get married on the beach where we played as children surrounded by just our closest family and friends. It was perfect.

  “I love you, Mr. Ryder,” she says against my lips. I smile as my hand fondles her breast. She’s perfect and she’s mine.

  “So, where should we make our permanent residence?” I ask, pulling away from her enticing lips.

  She groans and face-plants on the bed. “Do we have to figure that out now?” she asks, peeking up from under her lashes at me.

  “Mon étoile,” I murmur, “we need a home.”

  Between the two of us, we have houses in LA, New York, London, Maryland, Aspen, Costa Rica, and now Moorea. I laughed when we figured that out. We’ve decided to keep them all. Costa Rica, Moorea, and Aspen are good escape locations, and LA, New York, London, and Maryland are needed for work. My mom’s in Miami and her parents are in Ohio. But neither of us want to live in either of those places.

  She rolls over and stares up at the ceiling. “OK,” she says, and she sucks in a breath. “Let’s do this Teen Vogue style.”

  “What the fuck does that mean exactly?” I ask, propping my head up on my hand.

  “Do you prefer mountains or ocean?” she asks.

  “Ocean, you?”

  “Me too,” she says with a smile. “Do you want to live in a city or somewhere more secluded?”

  I ponder her question for a minute. “I guess, ideally, I’d like to be near a city but not in it.”

  “I can live with that,” she says smiling again. “Do you want a big house, small house, or apartment?”

  “Doesn’t matter, to me,” I say. “Although, that depends on whether we want to add to our family,” I muse as I trace small circles on her belly. We’ve talked a bit about kids. She says she’s not ready yet, but that she thinks she wants to have a few. I told her I only want to have them if they look just like her.

  “So big house,” she says. “Eco-friendly, right?”

  I nod. “Near an airport.” I point out a logistic that affects both of us.

  “Definitely,” she adds. “But not too close.”

  I nod.

  “U.S.?” she asks.

  “Well, I think it’d be good to be near our families, don’t you?” I ask her. She nods.

  She pulls up her phone. “I have an idea,” she says smirking.

  “You gonna share that with the class, Mrs. Ryder?”

  “Eventually…” She trails off as she types something on her phone. “OK. To be continued.”

  I stare at her. She gives nothing away.

  “What’d you just do?” I as
k her.

  She smirks. “Bought us a house,” she says confidently. I groan.

  “Don’t worry, sweetie, I paid for it,” she says laughing.

  I tickle torture her, but she doesn’t give up the details.

  “Good things come to those who wait,” she laughs as my tickling becomes more sensual.

  A few weeks later, I’m blindfolded and being driven around by my bride. She won’t tell me where we are going. Eventually, we stop, and she opens my door.

  “I have a surprise for you, Mr. Ryder,” she says.

  “Oh really,” I say, laying on the sarcasm. She slaps my ass, and I grin.

  “Ready?” she asks.

  “As I’ll ever be,” I answer.

  She takes off my blindfold, and I stare up at the most perfect house I’ve ever seen. It’s stereotypical colonial Maryland, but it’s been upgraded. It has solar-paneled roof shingles. I see a wind turbine that resembles an old Dutch windmill off to the side. There’s a guesthouse and a four-car garage. The garage and guesthouse have green roofs and the driveway and walkways are made of pavers that allow for greenery to grow in and around them. There are some other small buildings and a barn that all look eco-friendly as well. There are rain barrels at each of the corners of the buildings. The grounds are a natural ground cover that’s native to this region. I look beyond and see a beach and a boat house and dock. It’s our home and it’s exactly what I would have picked.

  I turn to her and she’s beaming. “I saw it the day we went out on the boat for your mom’s party. I just knew it would be perfect.”

  “You outdid yourself,” I say smiling at her.

  Baxter and Dean come up behind us. “Oh, don’t worry, guys, that’s your place,” she laughs and points to a small outbuilding that looks like an old barn, but it’s been converted. She walks over and opens the door and they go inside. It’s actually three separate apartments. “And over there,” she says pointing to the guesthouse, “is for when family visits if we don’t want them crowding our space.”

  She grabs my hand and takes me inside. The house is three stories, with the third story being a complete master suite. The second floor has five bedrooms all with en suites and two have a shared Jack and Jill bathroom. And the downstairs has one bedroom, a movie room, and an entertaining space. But the part she loves the most is up the spiral staircase in the master bedroom. There’s a widow’s walk on the top of the house; the view is amazing.