by Leanne Davis
But my ex died way too young today, and my brother is devastated. This isn’t the proper time to confront that issue. I feel overwhelmed, like a rogue wave swept me off my feet.
I open my car door. She is standing a few feet back when I come out. She rocks on her heels with her hands in her pockets, looking all adorable as a breeze lifts a curl over her cheek. She turns her face and tries to shake it off. “Devon?”
Hearing my name on her lips is all it takes. I’m sure she knows what I’m thinking and feeling. She knows why I can’t go back to my condo and why I’ve been sitting here in my car. She knows the reason before I do. And instead of embracing her with undying gratitude, I turned from her. I acted annoyed and frustrated and resentful. I pushed her away because I couldn’t stand how well she knew me. I couldn’t allow her to read me any longer. She could have helped me deal with my grief and anger and maybe even help me find resolution. I didn’t want that at all because it would mean action.
I had to move on and leave the past behind me instead of letting it hold me back. I would have to grow up. The last thing I wanted right now. What happened to me? What made me think I had the right to stop growing up and trying to be better? What stopped me from seeking a full life? Nothing. I chose to embrace my inner asshole and way too easily. I see that now. I eagerly embraced every rage-filled, base urge I had.
That includes having sex with Claudia one night. I never considered how that could affect our friendship and working relationship. I never thought about how she felt. I selfishly did that. It shames me when it so clearly becomes evident, like it is in this moment. She has no doubt why I called her. For the same reason I always call her.
I didn’t spare her the courtesy of regret. If my reckless actions were hurting her or ruining our friendship, which is as old as I am, I ignored it. I can’t believe she actually came here tonight. For me. Something sharp jabs me deep in the chest. It pierces through all the crap and shallow hookups I’ve filled my time with for far too many years.
I hold her eye lock and notice something is clouding her gaze the longer I stare. I’m not the intense, brooding twin; that’s always been Damion. Probably why Ireena chose him. But right now? I feel like I am the brooding twin. She appears so confused. Is she flustered by my undivided attention on her?
I could kick myself hard right now for not realizing it a long time ago. It could have been out in the open years ago, during our adolescence. Or at minimum, after we had sex. It was so magical, and our emotional connection was hot and new and exciting. It surpassed everything. And I let it go. I let Claudia go. I let her confide her feelings. I’ve always known they were there, but I wouldn’t acknowledge them or let it affect my pursuit of lust. I suppressed my feelings. Why? Was it fear? Because I wasn’t ready? Or because I couldn’t handle it?
Probably all those things. The shock and grief of this day illustrates how brief and unpredictable life can be. No one can foresee the next moment. Youth is intoxicating. It is so easy to ignore the fragility of life and fall into a false security of fearless immortality. I’m starting to see how often I did that. In my revelation, Claudia is baffled by me. It’s a whole new dynamic for us. She usually knows what I’m doing and why I’m doing it. And me? I suppose I would know her the way she does me if I spent more time considering her emotions. Until now, her feelings never concerned me. I never bothered to ask how she felt about anything. That’s all on me. I did it. This horrific tragedy occurred to my brother, but in a weird, hard to define way, it also happened to me. Now I finally see it.
Seeing her confusion and thinking of my stupidity, I am frozen with paralysis. I stop short of her and don’t touch her. I merely stare at her. She looks up at me until I shake my head and say, “Thank you for coming.”
“Of course. You know I’ll always come. I am still your friend.”
Fuck friends! But our friendship right now is everything. I wish I knew what to think or feel. I blink and drop myself back into the present, now, into this situation.
She adds, “I’ll go inside with you.”
I nod as I spin on my heel and head towards the stairs that lead up to my front door. I unlock it and leave my stuff on the console table just inside. There’s a long hallway. That damn hallway where we first kissed. And kissed and kissed. How could I blow that off as a one-time mistake? Claudia is the easiest person I’ve ever been around. How could she hamper my lifestyle? What nonsense was I thinking? That she’d put the kibosh on my stupid, alcoholic womanizing and one-night stands? Yeah. Duh. Someone needed to and it should have been me. I should have abandoned that way of life after my one and only night with her.
The hallway leads to the open floorplan. My kitchen is on the left, and the bedroom is down a small hallway to the right. The dining room and living room flow together and a wall of windows overlooks the Columbia River. I am shutting the shades, as I do every night, to prevent nosy people from peering inside. Claudia clicks on the lamps that warm the condo instantly. Or maybe it’s her presence?
She makes everything seem doable. I can breathe now. Out in my car, even the thought of being inside here made my throat constrict. My claustrophobia and fear of the walls closing in were overwhelming me until now.
But with Claudia here beside me? The condo feels safe and warm again. A place to rest and a respite from the chaos of the world. And my head. And my heart and emotions. She always makes everything better for me. And I was so shortsighted, I took her for granted. No wonder she’s dating someone else now. Everything I did to her, or failed to notice about her is weighing heavily on my conscience.
And yet, here she is again. She stayed here all day for us. For my family, but mostly for me. A sharp jab in my heart makes me grimace. No one has ever watched my back as well as Claudia Tamasy, not even my own twin. Only Claudia. How the hell did I so epically miss that?
I collapse on the couch and my muscles melt. I’m so exhausted. I rub my aching head, temples, and tired eyes. I’m not used to shedding tears, and I’ve cried several times over the last horror-filled days. I feel swollen and stung by a million bees.
“That was pretty brutal.”
“It will continue to be.”
I snort. “It might be easier if everything wasn’t so twisted.”
She nods. “Yeah, it’s a never-ending trauma, huh? Did you eat dinner yet?”
I nod my head. “My aunt and uncle brought some food over and my mom fussed until I ate it. I’m sorry for calling you again. I couldn’t walk in here. I know that sounds stupid, but I was suddenly Superglued to the damn car seat.”
Her head shakes, and the curls fly back and forth. “Not stupid. Pretty normal, I’d say, considering the gravity and confusion of the situation.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “I just wish sometimes it would go away. You know? It happened and it totally sucked and all that, but for everything to abruptly end like this?”
I rub my sore eyes. Everything hurts. My now dry, cried-out eyes are aching. My throat is raw from the emotions I tried to swallow. I shake my head. Confused and appalled, I say the words again out loud. I can’t forget the image of what we witnessed. “I mean, Ireena died. It all ends with her death?”
Claudia doesn’t answer me at first.
She nods, and her gaze is solemn. I shrug and my emotions well up again. I duck my head down and rub my hands over my face.
But much to my surprise, I hear a sound, and I glance up. She’s snickering at me. She’s trying to cover her mouth. Her eyes are twinkling with mischief over her hand as she shakes her head and finally releases a loud roar of laughter.
“You’re… laughing?” I’m incredulous as I stare at her.
She confirms it with a nod and can’t stop laughing, using her hand to cover her mouth. She sits down on the ottoman in front of the couch, pushing aside the tray I sometimes set drinks on.
I’m expecting some kind of pep talk from her about moving on, or loving Damion, or I told you so. I was definitely
better off without Ireena, but Claudia’s struggling to repress her cackle, and her amusement is contagious. It’s impossible. I finally smile with her. I have no idea why she’s laughing, but I’m smiling at her laughter. I shake my head.
“I can’t believe I’m laughing with you about this.”
She can’t stop laughing. It is not polite or nice, and it has no justification. She’s leaning forward and laughing for so long that tears fill her eyes. She wipes them, and I keep laughing with her. Well, her infectious laughter makes me smile, then I snicker and before long, I’m laughing right along with her. Even though I don’t want to be.
My stomach muscles ache and other body parts are packed with emotions, but suddenly, when I’m laughing, I become lighter and more playful and happy. When my own tears fill my eyelids, I wipe them off and we both start to sober up until we’re only hiccupping. We have to shake our heads when a residual laugh escapes from both of us. Silence descends over the room and our inappropriate mirth and lack of self-control return to seriousness.
For all the laughs of moments before, now the room is suddenly taut with tension and nerves. We have a mutual understanding. She sits before me, our knees bumping each other during our laughter. But now we are still. She is as close as before but we are not touching. I feel her gaze caressing my skin, and her attention thrills me. Our eyes meet and stay fastened.
I lean forward and dangle my hand off my knee. I barely move my wrist and my fingertips graze her knee. We are hooked on each other. No smiles now. No tears. No one else. This strange intensity and look we share is only between us. I shake my head a smidgeon. “I did it all wrong.”
“What?”
“Us. I did us all wrong.”
She sucks in a breath of air. “You always do. As long as I’ve known you.”
I smile and snort. “So I do. I can’t do it right, and you know that.”
“Yes.”
“Does that mean you forgive me?”
I barely swipe my fingers over her jean-clad knee. It’s so innocuous, we could be two strangers on a bus touching another, but the power of that contact is as deep and strong and connected as if we were making love. We have that much of a connection. Something makes my skin tremble everywhere, as if a soft breath is being blown over my bare skin. We are so synchronized but barely touching. Our souls, our hearts, and our emotions are linked and woven together. Everything that gives me my identity is reflected in all that makes her Claudia. How the hell did I fail to see that?
Because I was underequipped to deal with it. I realize in that infinitesimal second how naïve I was. Our laughing inappropriately just to make it through the next moment until now, is like her digging inside my body with her bare hands and pulling out my heart. She might as well be holding it up for me to see the truth. I can’t get over how she’s always been there for me. I was too fucking blind to see her, or the potential for us. When I caught my first glimpse of it, just for that night, I rejected it without thinking. I pretended not to care. I was so immature and stupid.
I don’t want to be that way anymore.
As I barely lean into her, I reach my hand up and cup the side of her face. Her eyes respond by growing bigger and she stares harder into mine. Her throat vibrates as she swallows. “Forgive you?” She barely breathes out the words.
“I want us to be right this time,” I whisper as I touch her gently. I am being completely sincere. I hope we can do it for real this time.
She slowly closes her eyelids, and her head barely nods as her shoulders drop. Her entire body melts towards mine. I scoot off the deep cushion to be closer and put both of my arms around her shoulders to pull her next to me. Her eyelids flutter open and her bright, sparkling eyes seek out mine. She swallows as she stares at me before her eyelids start to flicker. Her head tilts to accommodate mine, and we mirror each other. My heart starts hammering hard. My hands are suddenly sweaty. Hell, I am almost shaking like this is the first time I ever leaned in to kiss a girl. It could be the first time it meant something to me to kiss a girl. Her mouth barely opens, and I nearly heave with my desire and need and hope and excitement. Our mouths are just centimeters apart when I suddenly feel pressure on my chest.
I glance down, puzzled to find her hand on my sternum, pushing me away from her. “Devon, don’t.”
Don’t? I’m not usually surprised when a woman refuses to kiss me or have sex with me. After seducing a host of strangers, I’ve gotten my share of rejections. It’s really not that important to me. I usually just back off, and we smile or I say goodbye or continue chit-chatting. No harm, no foul.
But this time? I am flummoxed.
Our connection was magical. We were already one. Our souls were joined, our hearts were interwoven, we were everything rolled up. I can’t be that wrong. It wasn’t just her body language. The bond exists, as proven by the way her heart shines in her eyes towards me.
I lean back, of course, and give her more space. Her head drops and she starts using her fingernail to push back her nail bed. “Claudia?”
“I already have a boyfriend, Devon. Someone is waiting for me right now, at this moment. He didn’t bat an eye when you called me and interrupted us. I said I had to go check on you. He trusts me. And he should. Because I can be trusted not to cheat on my boyfriend. I’m with someone I choose to be with, but only after you chose not to be with me.”
She tilts back and turns her knees away from me. Her actions are louder than any words she could have said to me. Her body language is rejecting me as much as her words. I’m horrified. I never intended to make her feel uncomfortable. It never happened before… well, except after we had sex.
“You never expected me to move on.” Her tone is quiet, sad, and honest.
She does not accuse me, or sound snide in her reply, or filled with glee to see that I’m suffering now after I made her suffer. No, the reason Claudia feels bad is strictly for me because she is that good of a person.
I move my legs and lift my eyes to look away from hers. A rush of heat starts to radiate in my neck and face. I’m ashamed and embarrassed. I deserve her words as well as her scorn. She only states the truth. And I deserve it. I just realized my fatal error much too late. I’ve never been prepared for Claudia. I see that clearly now as I review our history. I’m finally there, after I already pushed her away. Of course, she moved on. She’s not desperate, clingy, or needy. She’s smart and savvy and she’s a survivor. She does better than just survive, she prevails. Following my advice—being the grown-up that she is—she moved on. She has a new boyfriend.
And I damn well knew it, but I didn’t care. I unilaterally decided my relationship with Claudia trumped Cooper’s because I’ve known Claudia longer. I decided my emotional investment with her was more important than his. In other words: he can kiss my ass. I’ve claimed Claudia as my best friend and confidante, making her mine in some ways for years and years. I had a tryst with Ireena, but I never expected Claudia to have a serious relationship that was not centered on me. I never considered she would actually elevate someone above me or the things I wanted. Especially now, after my great epiphany, on the same day I realize I want to grow up and stay with Claudia.
She shakes her head and says, “You’re sad and lonely. You saw that Ireena never loved you like you loved her, and now she’s dead. It’s all mixed up and very sad. You are vulnerable and sorry, so you want to feel better. Who better to raise your spirits than me? Us? I get us. I always felt that way about us, too. Until I didn’t. I realized I had to move on. I’m trying to do that, and I have been pretty successful. You’re sad and lonely right now, but tomorrow? Next week? Next month? I can’t trust that you’ll be here for me in the same emotional space as you are right now, needing me and wanting me. Not what I deserve or how I want to be needed and wanted.”
“And you trust Cooper?” My tone is hollow. I still can’t bear to look at her. Everything she said is totally correct.
“I know I could. That’s the difference. He
trusts me, too. But I can’t be the person that you’re asking me to be.”
I know I could trust Claudia.
I turn and glance at her. I easily see myself pressuring her, wearing down her defenses, stirring up her old feelings and her crush on me, and getting whatever I want out of her. Tonight. Tomorrow. Even next week. But in the long-term? She doesn’t believe I’ll be faithful to her.
She’s not wrong to question me. Everything I’ve done or acted like over the past few years is contrary to what I decided only an hour ago.
She doesn’t think it’s real. I can’t convince her to ignore everything she’s experienced with me and dive head first into what she expects to be a shallow pool of my love, commitment, and ability to sustain a relationship.
I can’t blame her. Even if I want her more than anything right now.
I also feel I’m entitled to her, not a stupid guy named Cooper who doesn’t know anything about her. I remember what she looked like at five years old, running after a soccer ball and falling over it more often than kicking it. And the delight on her face when Damion and I showed up at her eleventh birthday party at the indoor trampoline park. We were freshman in high school and she thought we were awesome. We did, too. We made her feel so important just by showing up. We were the exotic older men to her barely teenaged peers, thereby lifting her status and making her stand out to her friends. Cooper doesn’t know about the first guy who tried to kiss her, whom she kneed in the groin. She was sixteen. When it happened, I could only hug her, I felt so proud of her. She scowled and turned beet red as only Claudia does, but I knew she liked my reaction.
Cooper doesn’t know how she dreamed of being an astronaut, but changed her mind when she saw how they had to go to the bathroom in space. Then her ambition was to be a country western singer, even though she can’t carry a tune. At age sixteen, she decided she would take over her father’s company for him. Just like he did for his father and grandfather. Even if the family was broken, she and her dad were not. She did what the sons of most families did. She became the boss.