Transcend

by Ann, Jewel E

He clears his throat. “Have fun with Erica. Don’t worry about tomorrow. I’m busy. In fact … I’m going to be busy for quite some time.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  No answer.

  When I look down again at my phone on the vanity, the call has been disconnected. I try calling him back. He doesn’t answer.

  After tossing my makeup back in its bag, I shoot off a quick text to Griffin. Erica should be knocking on my door any minute, so I don’t have time to get into a big argument over his bruised ego.

  Swayze: Don’t be this way. It’s one night. I don’t see the big deal. I’ll call you tomorrow.

  After pressing send, I stare at my phone. The message changes from delivered to read, but no three dots appear on my screen. He’s not responding. With two soft knocks at my door, I don’t have time to fret over it.

  We call for a car instead of driving. Three bars later, I have a nice buzz going. It’s the best I’ve felt all week.

  “Has he texted back yet?” Erica asks as I check my phone for the hundredth time.

  “No.” I frown.

  “Men are such babies.” She shakes her head while bringing her wine glass to her mouth. “Even the hot ones.”

  “I just don’t understand it. I mean … yeah, I’ve been a little distant this week, but it’s one freakin’ night. I promised him all day tomorrow, which he knows will turn into all day on Sunday.”

  She eyes some guy a few tables over. He’s giving her the same look. With one look, I feel like an outsider.

  “Maybe you should make a bootie call. Guys like that,” Erica says while eye-fucking the dude behind me.

  “Why do I get the impression you’re trying to ditch me?”

  Her gaze meets mine again. “I would never do that unless it had been a long time since I’d had really good sex.”

  “The blind date?” I ask.

  “I faked an illness to get out of the date before the end of dinner.”

  I laugh. “So basically you’re saying it’s been a really long time?”

  Erica nods, returning her attention to Mr. Neatly-Trimmed Beard behind me.

  “Fine then. I’ll just check my notifications since I’ve lost your attention.”

  She doesn’t respond.

  I click on my phone. There’s still no text or calls from Griffin, but I have a dozen different social media notifications, most of them are from Griffin’s sisters from a couple of hours earlier. I click on Instagram.

  “Oh my god …” I can’t even breathe as a million emotions course through my body and sting my eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” Erica acknowledges me this time.

  “Oh my god …”

  “Jeez, Swayze, what is it?”

  I am the worst person on the face of the earth, and the cringe on Erica’s face when I show her my phone confirms it. Griffin’s sisters have pictures posted of him blowing out candles on a birthday cake at his parents’ house.

  “You forgot his birthday?”

  What little buzz I had a few seconds ago is gone. I’m feeling everything right now, and it’s so fucking painful I can’t even speak.

  “How is that possible?” Erica continues to prod.

  She doesn’t know anything about my memories of Nate. She doesn’t know how little sleep I’ve had. So I go with the only truth I can find that might work as some sort of explanation. “My life has been crazy. And we haven’t been together for that long. I just didn’t have his birthday in my mind or…” I shake my head “…I don’t know, I just didn’t pay attention to the date today.”

  “Your phone. How did you not have it in your phone?”

  I have nothing. Not. One. Good. Excuse.

  “Hey…” she reaches across the table and squeezes my hand “…don’t cry. It’s not the end of the world.”

  “But what if it’s the end of us?” I grab the cocktail napkin from under my drink and use it to blot my eyes.

  “You think he’s going to break up with you because you forgot his birthday?”

  “No, I …” Oh god, I can’t even say it, but I try anyway. “I think he could break up with me because when he seemed upset about me going out with you tonight I asked him what crawled up his butt and died.”

  “Oh …” Erica wrinkles her nose. “That’s not good. You should go. You’re just wasting time.” She glances at her phone. “It’s already eleven. You have one hour to make sure he gets the best birthday blowjob ever. Go. I’ll order you a ride.”

  I can’t stop the tears. It’s not just Griffin. It’s his whole family. I feel like I’ve failed all of them today. What kind of girlfriend forgets her boyfriend’s birthday? What kind of girlfriend says what I said to him earlier?

  Nausea twists my stomach. How could I do this?

  “What’s his address?” Erica asks while tapping the screen of her phone. “You do know his address, right?”

  I nod, wiping more tears away while mumbling his address.

  “Okay. Five minutes. Blue Camry out front.”

  I stand, wobbling a bit on my heels. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. Good luck. Let me know how it goes. I work all day tomorrow, but I have a few breaks if you need a shoulder to cry on.”

  I hope I don’t need a shoulder to cry on, but I’m not sure this will end well.

  *

  I text him on the way.

  He doesn’t reply—doesn’t even read it.

  I call.

  No answer.

  The knot in my stomach pushes more acid up my throat, and I can’t stop the slow leak of tears. The driver lets me off in front of his house. I’ve had too much to drink. My eyes are swollen and surely streaked with mascara. No explanation. No gift. Not even a card.

  Nothing.

  I’m here with nothing to offer him on his birthday—what little is left of it. The front door is locked so I knock. A few seconds later I ring the doorbell. The porch light flips on and he opens the door. I’ve never felt anything but love from this man—until now.

  “I’m a terrible person.”

  He stares at me with a cold, dark gaze, holding a blanket around his waist. I know he’s not wearing anything beneath it because he sleeps in the nude.

  It’s been a long week and all I want to do is let him strip me down and collide into each other with the insatiable desire we’ve always had between us.

  “I know sorry won’t make up for what I’ve done.”

  It’s like I don’t even exist. His expression holds no emotion. It’s numbing and heartbreaking.

  “But I am … I’m so sorry.” Another tear manages to escape when I blink.

  His gaze roams along the entire length of my body. He’s getting a rare glimpse of me in a short black dress with high heels and my hair pulled into a high ponytail. I need it to be enough for him to step back and let me inside.

  It’s not. I can see that when his icy glare returns to my face.

  “Say something.”

  “Like what?”

  “Can I come inside?”

  He gives a firm snap of his neck to the side and back again.

  “Your mom reminded me of your birthday a few weeks ago. I just forgot because of everything that’s been going on. And then I went to the doctor today because you asked me to, and I cleaned my apartment because deep down I know you hate how messy it is most of the time, and I just …”

  I’ve never had a love like this to lose before now. How am I supposed to know what this is? Feelings of stupidity and inexperience mix with fear. Are we breaking up? Is that what this is? It doesn’t feel like a fight. If I turn and walk away, I don’t think he’ll chase after me. And that’s why I can’t walk away. I have to plead my case until there’s nothing left to plead.

  He steps back and my heart surges with hope because he’s going to let me in, but then—

  Clank!

  The door shuts in my face and my heart shatters right here on his front porch.

  “Griffin!” I bang th
e door and try to turn the handle, but it’s locked.

  The light above me goes out and it feels so final.

  “I’m sorry! I love you!” I continue to bang on the door. A few dogs bark in the distance as I wake up the neighborhood in my desperation. “Please let me in! I don’t want us to be over!”

  Sobs rip from my throat. This hurts. Nothing has ever hurt this bad. Not even when my father died.

  “I’m so … incredibly … sorry …” I whisper while resting my forehead and fisted hands on the door.

  *

  The next morning I order him a fruit bouquet since he’s not a flowers or a cookie bouquet kind of guy. I text. I call.

  Nothing.

  I spend the day mourning and hating myself for being so insensitive. Every time I hear a noise in the hallway, I rush to look out my peephole, but it’s never my grocery store guy. Desperation gobbles up all sense of self-worth and dignity. I’m ready to trade my soul to the devil to get my guy back.

  By the next morning, I’m at the very bottom. After taking a shower, I check my pulse to see if I still have one. There is no life in me right now. I can’t think about Nate and every finite detail I know about his past. I don’t have Griffin and … Fuck. Me. It hurts everywhere.

  Something pulls me to my car. I’m pretty sure it’s desperation. I’m drowning in it. That same pathetic force leads me to his neighborhood, but I don’t pull down his street. Instead, I park a block away and worm my way toward his house, staying one street over so he can’t see me if he’s outside mowing the lawn or working in his garage. This is a new pathetic low, even for me.

  I squint to see through the trees between two houses. He’s mowing his lawn, a usual Sunday chore. Instead of confronting him again, I make the short walk to his parents’ house. If I’m going to make this right, I need his parents’ forgiveness too.

  “Swayze! What a lovely surprise.” Sherri answers the door, all smiles. “Come in.”

  Words fail me. I wasn’t expecting this kind of reception.

  “Where’s Griffin?”

  Surely my wide eyes and slack mouth says it all. “Um …”

  “How’s your friend?”

  I follow her to the kitchen where she pours me a glass of ice tea.

  “My friend?”

  “Yes. Griffin told us something really important came up with your friend. We missed you at the birthday party.”

  He lied for me … or for him. I’m not sure what this means.

  “She’s … uh … fine.”

  “Good to hear. So what are you up to today?” She gestures to the deck.

  We go outside and sit in the glider chairs. Scott’s running the weed eater in the backyard. It must be the Calloway yard day.

  I have an out. Griffin’s lie gives me one. But I don’t know how this will end if I don’t confess. And I can’t let this go on any longer.

  “Griffin lied.”

  Sherri gives me a confused look. “About what?”

  “I forgot his birthday.” My eyes burn. It’s a race to say what I need to say before I break down. “And I could list all the reasons why I forgot it, but they don’t matter. I love him and I should not have forgotten his birthday. And I made it even worse by saying something I should not have said when he seemed upset about my other plans on Friday. Then …” My emotions tighten around my neck like a noose. I can’t get another word out.

  “Oh, sweetie…” Sherri reaches over and rests her hand on my arm “…you made a mistake. It’ll be fine. Griffin loves you.”

  I try to swallow, but the emotions are too thick so I just shake my head.

  “Yes, he will. Have you tried talking to him?”

  I nod several times and wipe the tears before they make it down my face. “H-he’s so mad.” Biting my lips together, I try to regain my composure.

  “I’m sure he’s just disappointed. That’s all I saw in him on Friday. Just give him some time to get past it. I know he’ll be ready to patch things up. Scott used to be the same way when we were first married. He’d shut down. I learned to let him have his space. The good news is they grow out of it as they mature. Griffin is still learning how to navigate a serious relationship. He’s going to make a few mistakes along the way—overreact. You both will.”

  I nod again and before I can get it together, Sherri comes over and pulls me into her arms and I fall apart. When I manage to piece my emotions back together, I apologize to her. She quickly waves off my attempts to make amends like I have no reason to apologize. We spend the next hour chatting about Griffin’s sisters, their boy issues, and my turning down the temporary teaching job to watch Morgan full time.

  Griffin hadn’t even shared that with her. I want to believe it’s to make sure I always look good in their eyes, but after Friday, I’m not sure what to believe.

  “I should go. Thanks for letting me cry on your shoulder. It wasn’t my intention when I came over here.”

  “We love you, Swayze. You’re family to us, so don’t ever hesitate to come see us.”

  I give her one last hug. Just as I open the door, the loud rumble of a Harley draws near sending my heart back into my throat.

  “See, he’s already looking for you,” Sherri says as I step outside.

  “He doesn’t know I’m here,” I murmur to myself.

  When he takes off his helmet, I’m certain Sherri sees he’s surprised to see me too. And the downward turn of his lips proves I’m not a good surprise.

  “I’ll be inside if you need me,” she whispers in my ear before retreating to the house.

  I want him so bad right now. It’s the strangest feeling. My attraction to him has never waned, but right now I want to devour him. Not being able to have him magnifies my desire for him, so does that tight black T-shirt and his jeans hugging his muscular legs. He looks rough and sexy and so forbidden at this very moment.

  “Hey …” My weak voice sounds like the insecure book nerd talking to the captain of the football team for the first time. “Did you get the fruit arrangement?”

  “I gave it to my neighbor.”

  I flinch, but it doesn’t soften his expression one bit.

  “Why are you here?”

  “I wanted to apologize to your parents for Friday.”

  He narrows his eyes a fraction like I’ve overstepped some line. “Is that so? Did they forgive you?”

  “Yes,” I say with zero confidence.

  “Well, lucky you.” He brushes past me.

  Taking a courageous breath, I turn. “I want you to forgive me.”

  He stops, keeping his back to me.

  “What if you ignore my birthday and Christmas and … Valentine’s Day? And I don’t say anything because I deserve to not have you acknowledge me on any special occasion. But on every other day we’re still us … together.”

  He blows out a long breath. I cross my fingers that it’s a sign of him surrendering.

  “What if you find someone else to jerk around?” He continues to walk toward the house, carrying my heart crumpled in his hand.

  Just as he opens the door, Sherri greets him with a disapproving look.

  “For fuck’s sake.” He shakes his head and storms past me again to his motorcycle. Before I can try to stop him, he peels out.

  “Here.” Sherri dangles a keychain in front of me as I watch my world drive off.

  “Eventually, he’ll go home.”

  I take the keychain.

  “One is to his house. The other is to his garage. Don’t take no for an answer. He may be two hundred and thirty pounds of muscle and intimidation, but I know my boy … he won’t hurt you. Get in his face until he surrenders. He wants to … he’s just too stubborn to see it right now.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I leave my car parked a block away for fear he won’t come home if he sees it in his driveway or across the street.

  Two hours later the rumble of his bike pulling into the driveway sets my pulse racing out of control. The hard part is I sti
ll don’t know what to say to make this right. When he comes in the side door, I stand up from my spot on the couch.

  He doesn’t see me as he shrugs off his sweaty shirt, but then he stops when he catches me out of the corner of his eye.

  “The answer was no on Friday. No yesterday. It’s no today. And it will be no tomorrow.”

  “It was a birthday. Our whole relationship is over because of a forgotten birthday?” I chase him down the hallway. “Would you just listen to me!”

  He turns so fast, I bump into his chest. My eyes widen and and I open my mouth to speak, but … nothing.

  “Good talk.” Griffin turns into the bathroom and removes his jeans. “Now get the fuck out.” He turns on the water to the shower.

  Sherri’s words run through my head. We’re young and immature at relationships. He won’t hurt me. Don’t take no for an answer. But nothing I say matters. “I love you.” “I’m sorry.” They are meaningless to him right now.

  Fine. No more words.

  I slip off my sundress. Griffin glances over his naked shoulder just as he slides open the shower curtain. His eyes make a quick assessment of me.

  “No,” he says then steps into the shower and closes the curtain.

  My fingers unhook my bra, and I slide off my panties. “Yes.” I whip open the shower curtain and step into his tiny shower before shutting it.

  He glares down at me, the dim light and water running down his body only make him that much more intimidating. Taking a step forward, he backs me into the wall of the shower, sucking up all the oxygen in this tiny space.

  I can’t find a single breath, but I keep my chin tipped up in defiance.

  “I’ll fuck you, but it won’t be gentle and it won’t change anything.”

  I swallow hard. “It was a birthday. One day.”

  “It’s not just my fucking birthday!”

  My heart stops. I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this.

  He won’t hurt me. I keep reminding myself of this very important fact because Griffin is a beast towering over me with every muscle in his body flexed and quivering like he could snap something—possibly me—in half.

  “You’ve blown me off all fucking week like the whole goddamn world revolves around you. I got a job promotion. Did you know that? No. Because you haven’t given me the time of day. Friday was just the icing on my fucking birthday cake. So if you want to know what ‘crawled up my butt and died’ … it’s you.”