by Daisy Allen
I look up, aware that our arms are still touching, my skin raising into goosebumps.
"Same sky. Different city. Too much light here, I guess. It's not Maine."
"Have you been back?" he asks.
And I answer honestly, "No. You?"
"Not once." I hadn't expected that. I didn’t know what I was expecting. “Not even when my Dad died and he was buried there.”
“Can I ask you something?”
He nods.
“Why did you buy your old family home?”
“Because I could.”
I’m not surprised. Xavier has never been lacking in pride. I understand that more now than back then how hard it must have been for him to live in the circumstances he did.
"Is that where your mom still lives?” I ask, not sure how much he wants to talk about it.
"No. She lives here now. She’s been here for about seven years. I moved her here as soon as I could. "
"And the boys?"
"All here as well. Well, Brian's serving."
"Wow. Things are different,” I sigh.
He turns to me, brushing a hair off my face. It sends a shiver through my body. "What about your parents?" he asks. And he has every right to.
"Um, they moved."
"I know.”
I must look confused, so he explains. “I went to them first, when I got your letter, when you changed our plans. They didn't know anything. And trust me when I tell you, I hounded them. It took me a long time to believe them. And, er, then when I looked them up again a few years later to see if there was anything new they could tell me, they had moved. Didn't leave a forwarding address. I couldn't find them. I tried. I tried everything to find you."
I just nod. I don't know what else to say. I don’t know how to tell him that I’d kept my secrets from them too, that it took me years to get back in touch with them. That my life has been a complete and utter mess. And since I left Maine, I haven’t been as happy as I am right this very moment.
We're quiet. Each lost in our own memories.
"So, um, why didn't you go back more often?" I wonder.
"Honestly?”
“Why not?”
He faces me, and I know what he’s about to say might hurt me as much as it hurts him. “I never left because I didn't want to miss running into you. From the moment I got your letter, I’ve been looking for you. I didn’t know where you were in the world, but if it was here, then I wasn’t ever going to leave in case today was supposed to be the day I’d find you. And I was right.”
"You’ve really been here all this time?"
"Yeah, I mean, I roughed it on the streets for a while after I used up all my savings. Then a guy I met took pity on me and took me in, trained me up and got me a job as a bouncer. I kept getting into fights, though and one particularly bad night Kaine came across my sorry ass, scooped me out of the gutter, cleaned me up and put me in law school. And here we are"
"Good thing you met him then."
"He saved my life."
"I'm... I don't know what to say, Xavier. I didn't know that this is what would happen."
He shrugs. "I was lucky. I met good people."
Lucky him, I think. Luckier than I was.
“So, do any of my confessions buy me some of yours?”
“Not tonight, Xavier. Please. Just let me enjoy this. Enjoy you. Us.”
He nods.
“Can I just ask one question? You can reply or not.”
“You can.”
“Do you miss dancing?”
I tell him the utter truth. “The only thing I miss more than dancing is you.”
Somewhere out there, it’s time for someone to finally go home, and a light turns off on the Empire State Building.
“I guess I should go home,” I sigh.
“Okay, let me call the car,” he says, giving in easier than I thought he would.
I stare down looking at the lines of cars on the street as he dials his phone.
All this time, we’ve been just circling this city, never meeting. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d known he was here the whole time. I honestly didn’t think he would be. I guess it was fair to think he might’ve come to look for me. But I thought he would’ve left, once he couldn’t find me, that he would just give up.
But he stayed to find me. And he did.
Was it fate? Serendipity? Pure luck?
I may never know, but I can’t help but think that it’s better we found each other now than then. He wouldn’t have wanted to find me twelve years ago. Then it wouldn’t have just been my life that was ruined, but his as well.
“Car’s just around the corner,” he says, coming back over to join me, taking a sip from his wine glass and handing it to me.
I take it from him, our eyes locking over the glass rim.
My last birthday’s memories with him sustained me for twelve years.
I wonder how long it will be before I would forget this one.
Fifteen
Him
She doesn’t say anything the whole way home.
She does let me take her hand though, in the limo, and somewhere along the trip she leans back, her side against my chest, as she stares out the window.
I breathe more than I need to, long deep breaths, taking in her scent, her warmth.
She’s the same but different.
There’s something in her eyes that wasn’t there all those years ago, but I can still hear the Malynda I knew in her laugh, her silly jokes, the way she wears her emotions on her face. How she points at things that make her smile and laugh; and it’s almost always tied to something that ignites her creativity.
I didn’t know what to expect from tonight, I just couldn’t imagine her on her own on her birthday. Why she wasn’t spending it with her boyfriend, Cameron, I don’t know. But I was going to take every chance to show up for her, when he wouldn’t.
She sighs gently and I look down at her.
The lights from the city catch on her eyelashes, framing her face with a soft glow.
Twelve years I waited for this.
But I feel more clueless than ever.
She’s here, but where has she been? What happened? And when can I kiss her again like I did on the roof?
The limo swerves, parks, and she sighs again before sitting up.
“This is me,” she murmurs, as if she’s telling herself.
“I’ll walk you up.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“Relax, I’m just making sure you get to your apartment, okay? I won’t ask to come in. I won’t pretend to need a glass of water. I won’t even smile and I promise to waddle bow legged so you don’t get tempted by my sexy manwalk.” She doesn’t say anything but I can see the corners of her mouth twitching hard, so I go in for the kill. “But hey, if you don’t think you can resist me in all my flannel manliness, I understand. I wouldn’t want to make you do something you’ll regret. You’re right. It’s settled, I’ll stay here.”
“Bastard! Come on, then, sheesh. Stop before you hurt yourself.”
She climbs over me to get to the open limo door, mumbling, and I have to bite my tongue from getting hard at the feel of her body across my lap. Something tells me that she knows exactly what she’s doing, though, and that revenge was in order.
I exhale and follow her out of the car and to her building’s entrance. There’s no doorman so I open the door for her and she brushes past me.
Vanilla. I’m drowning in the scent of vanilla.
“What floor?” I ask, when we get into the elevator.
“Not the penthouse,” she shoots back.
“That doesn’t mean it’s not the top floor.”
“Fifteen,” she says and rolls her eyes. I try not to laugh, she’s being awfully cute in her pretend standoffishness, so I have no reason to make her stop.
The elevator stops.
“Good night!” she says, pushing past me through the opening doors.
“It was a g
ood night,” I say, as I follow her down the hall.
“What are you doing?” she says, her hand pushing against my chest.
“I’m walking you to your door, just like I said.”
“I’m fine, Xavier.”
“Good, I’m going to make sure you’re fine all the way to your door.”
“I don’t remember you being this testosterone-y.”
“I’m hurt. I remember being very testosterone-y around you. How could you forget?” I waggle my eyebrows at her, and she doesn’t look impressed.
She mutters something under her breath that sounds like, “Remembering isn’t the problem.”
We come to a stop outside apartment 1506.
“Xavier,” she starts, and I have a feeling I don’t like what’s coming. “Thank you for tonight.”
Well, that wasn’t too bad,
“But,” she continues, “it’s probably not a good idea we see each other too much.”
I don’t say anything for a moment, to give use both time to think.
“Why?” I finally respond.
“Because, nothing’s going to be able to come of this. And… I don’t want you to be holding on to some hope for a future for us.”
I nod.
I hear her, I do.
And it’s time, she heard me.
I take a step forward and she backs herself against the wall. My hand comes up to rest against it, over her head, my body looming over her. All she can see is me.
“Malynda, tonight was the happiest I’ve been since the last time I saw you, getting on that bus to New York.”
She opens her mouth and I press my finger against it. It’s my time to talk.
“I’ve felt like… I’ve been living in some kind of suspended state, for twelve years. And during that time, all I ever wanted, was to see you one last time. To tell you all the things I never got to tell you when we were together.”
She blinks, slowly, and I know the words are penetrating.
“So, whatever does or doesn’t happen, this isn’t going to change. I love you. Like no man has any business loving another person. Like it’s all that matters to me, and there’s nothing else. So you can tell me not to hope, that’s your prerogative. But it has no meaning to me. Because I live one day at a time. And each of those days, I wake up thinking of you and I fall asleep thinking of you. So until you’re in my arms, and I know that’s where you’ll be for the rest of my life? I’m living my life the same way. Fighting for you. There is no yesterday and no tomorrow. Just today. I’m not chasing the past. I’m not living for the future. Right now, I’m just trying to survive each day without you.”
Sixteen
Him
It took me about two months to completely run out of money when I first arrived in New York to look for Malynda. All the money I'd saved over the summer so that we could have a deposit down on our own place once I followed her, was spent on scouring the streets of Manhattan for any sign of her.
I went to her dance school; all they could tell me was that she had dropped out. I stood in the hallways asking everyone who passed by me if they knew her, had heard anything from her. All people could tell me was that she was there one day and gone the next. She hadn't made a lot of friends while she'd been there, apparently, and her footprint faded with the first few rains of November.
Here one day and gone the next.
Not once though, did it occur to me to go home.
My only home had been with her.
With nowhere to go at night, I stayed out there, on the streets. Showing her picture to anyone who would stop long enough to look.
I knew, I knew no matter what that letter had said, she had not fallen for someone else and left. I was more inclined to believe that she'd murdered someone in cold blood, than betray me.
Now twelve years later, my gut instinct has been proven right though it feels like now there are just more questions. And she's unwilling to give any answers.
The kiss on her birthday told me everything I need to know, though. That she's still in there, the girl I knew. And that she's just waiting for me to coax her out.
"Xavier! Watch out!" Gabriel shouts at me from across the warehouse and I move just in time to get out of the way of the guy in the hard hat and his wheelbarrow filled with broken bits of wall.
We're deep into the renovation for the youth center now, the inside of the warehouse being gutted so that we can construct some new partitions and office areas. Gabriel, Jade's brother, is in charge of overseeing the day-to-day operations at the warehouse as it's converted. He's done well staying clean since coming out of his stint in rehab a year ago. With a seemingly renewed purpose in life, this dedication to the youth center seems to be giving him something concrete to build his life on.
"Thanks, man!" I yell across the room and he gives me a thumbs up before turning back to the foreman and the plans laid out in front of them.
"Um, hello. Is Jade here?"
The voice makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up and I don't need to turn around to know who it is.
"No. What do you need?" I say, my voice flat as I address Cameron.
He waves a roll of paper in his hand. "Isabella asked me to drop this off here."
"I'll take it." I reach out and Cameron pulls his hand back.
"I'd really rather it go directly to Jade."
His petty tone riles me up even more. "Seriously? Because I can direct you exactly where to go."
"Woah. What's your problem, man?"
"Nothing. Just give me the damn thing. I'll make sure she gets it." I rip it out of Cameron's hand and stare at him, daring him to protest.
"Fine," he shrugs, "saves me a trip uptown." He holds up his hands and backs away. Just as he's almost out the door, he spins around and faces me again.
"You know, I'm just trying to work with the Ash Foundation here. If you don't want that, maybe you should tell them they can find someone else, willing to provide all this service for free."
Great. Threats. Where did Malynda find this asshole?
"It's not you whose services we require. It's Isabella's." I hiss.
"Well, she and I are one." He stares me down
Don't fucking remind me.
"As I understand, you're the paper pusher, and she's the one who does the work that we're actually looking for. So, maybe next time, she can come down here herself."
He tilts his head, tapping on his mouth like he’s thinking. Well, think faster asshole, and fuck off. "You know, I've known Isabella for almost twelve years now."
The twitch at my jaw is the only thing that gives away how much I want to wail on this guy right now. I just stare at a point just an inch above his forehead. Breathe, Xavier. Just breathe. He’s not worth it.
"What I mean by that is, I know her. Better than anyone else in the world. And that's just to say, I'm pretty sure if she wanted to come down here, where she knows you’d be, she wouldn’t have sent me. Just something to think about. Have a good day. Send Jade my love."
Seventeen
Her
Somehow I've managed to stay away from Xavier for almost a week. One of the longest weeks of my whole fucking life.
I didn't see him, I didn't call him, I didn't text. All questions for his apartment, I send through to his work email address and someone nameless replies. But I don’t think it’s him.
After the bombshell he left me on my birthday, it was probably best that we had some time apart. Truth is, after he kissed me, I wasn't quite sure if I could stop him if he wanted something more.
Of course, he wants something more. If I'm honest, so do I.
He isn't the only one living in a perpetual state of suspension. From the moment I saw him again at the fundraiser, it feels like there are parts of my body, my mind, that has come out of hibernation. Even apart, we seem to have been living parallel lives.
But you can't do this, you can't be with him. There's a reason you pushed him away then and nothing has changed that realit
y. Don't do this to yourself.
It feels like I've been telling myself that on loop for the last five days. And apparently, I don't listen.
The doorman opens the door and tips his hat. He's used to me coming in and out the last few weeks as I’ve worked on Xavier's apartment. I use the security keycard Xavier gave me to have access to his apartment to let myself and the delivery men in and press 31 on the panel.
I run my hands down my red dress as the elevator creeps up to his floor. I don't even know what I'm doing here. I don't have any business to discuss with him. I just couldn't stand another day of not seeing him.
I take a deep breath and step into his living area.
Someone crashes into me, knocking me to my feet, temporarily winding me.
"Oh! Shit! Sorry!" She holds out her hand and I take it, letting her pull me to my feet.
The woman is striking. Tall, redheaded, dressed in a pantsuit that looks like it was custom made for her. Every inch of her perfect body.
She's holding an overnight bag in her other hand, a Burberry coat flung over her arm.
"Fuck, sorry, I'm such a mess. I’m late and just in such a hurry. Hope you're okay!"
"Oh, um, yeah, I'm fine, no harm done."
"Xavier! I'm on my way out!" she yells over her shoulder as she rushes over to the still open elevator. I can't help wanting to flee with her but the last thing I want is to be stuck in an elevator with Xavier's overnight guest. Especially one looking like that.
She's long gone by the time he comes out of the bathroom, wearing just a pair of track pants, drying his hair on a towel.
It's the first time since we reconnected that I've seen him without a top, and I'm almost speechless by what I see. His body is ripped, his chest and stomach look like they've been sculpted out of marble. Hard. Chiseled. It's a long way from the tall and lanky Xavier I remember.
"Oh, um, hi," he says, stopping when he sees me. "I didn't expect to see you. Did we have an appointment?"
The combination of seeing him half-naked and running into his lady friend has my mind turning and twisting in ten different directions all at once.