by Colet Abedi
“We broke up last month.”
And I’ve just sustained another punch (maybe a kick this time) right to the gut. I can feel the acid rising in my esophagus—I seriously might vomit this time. My entire body tightens up with nerves, and I try to pull away from him, but then I remember … even though it seems like an eternity ago, Jerry and I broke up even more recently than that. Still. It’s different. I never touched Jerry. We were never intimate. Oh my God. What if I’m a rebound?
“How long did you date?” I go on.
He sighs loudly.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.”
“A year.”
A whole year? It hits me hard. Fuck. He brought her to the Maldives on vacation. He brought her to that villa he’s staying in. To that bed. This time last year, she was in his arms. He grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. My gaze can barely focus on his, as I try to get a grip on my raging emotions.
“She didn’t mean anything to me. It was convenient. If I actually saw her during that year, it would never have lasted longer than a month. But I was traveling a lot and she was always off on modeling jobs. We never saw each other.” Model. I knew it!
“Why is she here?” I whisper.
“Because Sheila is a bitch and was told about you by Jane, who is Tom’s cousin. She used the opportunity to invite Amelia, who was in Malaysia on a job, to create this very situation.”
Jane and Tom are cousins? I definitely see the similarity. I can’t believe she would be so calculating and cold because Clayton likes me. It’s just so evil. And wrong.
“She went to all this trouble because she dislikes me that much?”
“I will have a word with her.” Clayton is angry, I’m sure, that Jane put him in a situation in which he had to explain his past relationships to me.
My heart leaps. He looks so serious, though, and I want to wipe the frown off his face. And so I do. I take away his frown the way he’s done it with me. My fingers trace their way to his soft lips, which I touch softly. He grabs my hand and kisses each one of my fingers. I rise up on my toes and his hands pull me up close and I kiss him softly on the lips.
“Clayton, darling? Dinner is about to be served.”
I look over to see the beautiful Amelia staring at us, slack jawed, as she takes in the intimate scene. I try to pull away from his embrace but he won’t allow it.
“Sophie and I will be right there.”
She looks so hurt, I almost feel sorry for her. She spins around and disappears inside.
“Shall we go eat?” Clayton asks.
I nod slowly as he takes my hand.
“One more thing, Clayton?”
He turns to look at me.
“When were you going to tell me that you’re a lord?”
17
“I have some bad news,” Clayton tells me as we lie in each other’s arms the next afternoon.
My stomach sinks in dread over what it could be. My body is tense as I wait for him to tell me.
“I have to go to Singapore.”
My heart stops beating. Falls to the ground, through the crust, deep into middle earth where I feel my life just being sucked out of me. He’s leaving for Singapore. He’s leaving? Is he ever coming back? I haven’t prepared for this. I thought we had more time. Are we done? Is it over between us? Is this the end?
He lifts my chin so he can look at me.
“Sophie, I’m only going for the night and I’ll be back the day after tomorrow. I don’t want to go, but I must. And actually, I wanted to know if you’d like to come with me.”
I start to breathe again. He wants me to go with him. The amount of relief I feel from those words is staggering. He’s going just for one night. We have more time. What am I going to do when we leave the Maldives and an ocean separates us for good? What will happen? How will I ever cope, if I can barely stand the thought of him leaving me for one night?
Time has gone by so fast here already. It feels like just yesterday that I arrived. And now, in a few days this dream will be over. My trip is almost coming to an end and we have yet to discuss anything beyond the here and now. Both of us intentionally avoid the topic, avoid anything that will taint the remaining time we have together. I want to go with him. I want to go with him so bad, but there’s something in me that knows I shouldn’t.
I need time to time to think about everything that’s happened. Everything that’s going to happen when I leave. I need to face reality and the future, whatever that holds for me. And the fact that he asked me to go with him is proof that he wants me with him. There’s really nothing more that I could ask for.
Clayton looks at me, watching the emotions play over my face. He doesn’t wait. He keeps talking. When I don’t answer he goes on, “So what do you think? I would love to show you Singapore. I don’t know how long I’ll be working, but I can book you into one of the best spas in the city, have you pampered.”
I smile at him, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. I’m glad he wants me to go with him; it shows he wants me beside him, near him. I have nothing to worry about. I think.
“So what will it be?”
“I’m sorry?” My runaway thoughts get in the way of staying in the moment.
He rolls his eyes in amusement. Nothing sounds more appealing to me then spending the night in Singapore with him and seeing the city, but I can’t give him what he wants.
“It’s so sweet of you to invite me, but you’re going to be doing business and you won’t want me in the way. I’ll be a distraction,” I tell him. “And it will give me some time to spend with Erik and Orie too.”
He doesn’t appear to be happy with my response.
It takes him a moment, but then he nods his head and looks almost sad.
“I want you with me, but if this is your wish, then so be it.”
“So you’ll spend tomorrow night with Erik and Orie and I’ll be back the following day.” He states the obvious and I have the feeling he’s saying it to try to understand and stomach it. After all, this is a man who always gets what he wants.
“Yes. And I’ll miss you.”
“If you were going to miss me, you’d come with me.”
“That’s not really fair,” I say.
“I know.” He’s pouting. “But I want you near me.” He almost sounds childish.
It’s strange how the thought of just one night away from him seems like an eternity, but it does. And I know it’s because I’ve completely fallen in love with him. There, I said it. I can’t bear the thought of not being with him. But I need to be a big girl now and be confident in who I am and the feelings I believe this man has for me. So no matter how hard it is for me to spend a night without him and considering I really don’t know how much time I’ll have with him, I take an adult step and relinquish all crazy neediness.
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
“I have no need of absence, Sophie.”
My toes curl and I practically throw myself in his embrace, wanting to show him how much he means to me, how much I’ll miss him when he’s gone, and how I’m already obsessing about what I’m going to do without him in this villa tomorrow night.
I’ve spent the day drawing and tormenting myself with thoughts about Clayton. He left me early in the morning, making love to me before he quickly departed and ordered me to sleep in. I tried, honest to God, I tried, but it was just impossible without him. So I ended up getting dressed and sitting on the deck sketching. He had surprised me by having a giant sketchpad delivered to the bungalow yesterday and now I’m glad he did. It has kept my attention for hours. I opted out of a lazy beach day with Erik and Orie, wanting to give them their space and to be honest, give myself time alone. I’ve only stopped to have coffee delivered to the room and to shower. What’s funny is that I’m not drawing the ocean in front of me, no, I’m busy sketching the ocean from our island. The one I felt and saw when he took me in the water, made me swim and face my fears. The plac
e where I found my salvation, so to speak.
The phone rings and takes me out of my moment. I rush to answer.
“Hello?”
“Baby.”
I sigh with happiness.
“Hey. How was your flight?”
“Shitty. You should be with me.” His voice is gruff.
“I know.” I agree with him. I wish I was with him.
“Have you had your meeting yet?” I ask him, changing the topic.
“I’m on my way.” He sounds tired and especially annoyed.
“I hope it goes well.”
“Thank you.” He sighs. “What are you doing?”
“Using the sketchpad you got me.”
“What are you drawing?”
“Our island,” I tell him, wishing that we were there. Together. Now. “I really miss you, Clayton. I wish you were here. Actually, I wish you never left.” I let him hear the longing in my voice.
“Fuck, Sophie,” he whispers to me, his voice strained. “You’re killing me.”
I am?
“I wish I were there too, sweetheart. But you could have been here with me. We wouldn’t have to feel this way now.” His voice has a certain edge to it.
“I know. But just think about how sweet tomorrow will be,” I say, wishing I could wiggle my nose and have him magically appear.
“Tomorrow is not today.”
No, it is not.
“I’ll call you later, baby. Enjoy your sketching.”
“Good-bye, Clayton.”
“Bye, baby.”
We hang up and I feel overwhelmingly sad. I miss him so much it hurts. I want him here. With me. Now. That’s not going to happen, I know. I’m suddenly exhausted.
Making love to Clayton all day and night takes its toll—the good kind—but still. I realize that I need to take a nap, something I’m not really used to doing, but since he’s gone, I will. I’ll just sleep for a little and then come right back to my sketching. Since Clayton already called, I turn the ringer off so I can sleep without any interruptions.
The second I put my head down, I’m out.
I wake up to a banging sound on my villa door. I open my eyes and am shocked to see that it’s night. Crap! How long was I out? I run over to the door and find Erik and Orie, dressed for dinner, standing there looking at me annoyed. I brush the tired from my eyes as I stare at my friends. Jesus. Talk about a nap. Try, I slept the whole damn day away! I lean against the door and smile at them.
“Hi,” I yawn loudly as I finally greet them.
“Hi,” Erik says back to me, as he checks out my outfit. Yes, I’m wearing the Singapore Airlines pajamas top.
“We’ve been calling you all goddamn day. We were actually worried. I thought you might have slit your wrists or something. Were you really sleeping the whole time?” he says as he examines my face. “Or were you crying because lover boy left you for one whole day? Your eyes look kind of puffy.”
I roll my puffy eyes at him.
“I was sleeping. I was really tired, I guess,” I answer.
“We have dinner reservations, remember? The three of us? The way we were? Before you started fucking Clayton all day long, all day strong?” Erik’s pissed.
“I’m sorry!” I tell him truthfully, trying to appease his wrath. “Just give me a second and I’ll be right there!”
“Honey, you need more than a second!” he calls after me as I run into the villa.
Ten minutes later, I’m showered and we’re on our way to the restaurant.
I laugh as we head down the long walkway lit by tiki torches to the main beach and restaurants.
“Fuck me. I’m going to be sick,” Erik says in a shocked voice.
“What?” I ask, looking up at him in concern. He looks totally fine.
“Mother fucker,” he says, his face in complete and utter disbelief as he stares ahead. Orie and I quickly follow his gaze and my heart stops. And not for a good reason.
Holy shit.
Holy mother fucking shit. It’s Jerry. He’s standing at the end of the pathway from the villas watching us. He looks exhausted. He’s in Bermuda shorts and a polo, a look that any woman in the world would find handsome, but not me. He runs a hand through his thick brown hair and slowly makes his way to us.
I’m incapable of speaking. Of words. Of thought. I can’t believe he’s here. Right now. In the Maldives. What the fuck? How did he get here? Why, oh my God, why is he here?
“Sophie,” he says quietly to me, then smiles at Erik and Orie. “Hey guys. It’s nice to see you. Your tans look great.”
Erik is shell-shocked and can only nod.
“Hey, Jerry,” Orie says. “What are you doing here?”
“I came for Sophie,” Jerry says, his eyes stay fixed on me. He looks earnest, safe, the same way he’s always looked over the many years I’ve known him. My stomach sinks in dread.
Why? Why God? Why? I look over at my friends, begging them, pleading with my eyes. But Erik gives Jerry a once over. He grabs hold of Orie’s hand, I realize so they can leave me all alone with Jerry. To face this problem by myself. Head on. With nowhere to run. Motherfucker!
Erik gives me a serious look. “We’ll be waiting at the restaurant for you. Drinking. Heavily.”
He comes back and gives me a quick hug and whispers in my ear before he leaves. “Just you.”
I watch them leave, then turn to stare at Jerry. I don’t know what to say.
“You look good, Sophie.”
That makes me want to cry, because the last thing I want to do is break his heart. He’s my friend. I’ve known him all my life. I don’t want to hurt him.
“Thank you.” This is my problem to face alone, I know, but I feel like I’m living a nightmare. I force myself to be a big girl.
“We broke up. You shouldn’t be here. Why would you come?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks as he takes a step closer to me. I step back.
He notices and sighs.
“I know that I’ve not been everything you wanted me to be. I thought about everything you said to me, I mulled it over in my mind so many times. At first I thought you were right and then I realized how wrong you are.” My heart drops in fear. “I never really told you how I feel about you. I should have tried … ”
I hold my hand up. I don’t want him to go there. “Jerry, don’t. It’s okay,” I tell him. “You don’t have to say any of this. I understand, and I’m fine with it. We’re friends. That’s all.” I try to shoulder some of the responsibility. “We never should have tried to be more, and I’m just as much to blame as you. I should never have let it last so long, the way it was.”
“Don’t say that, Soph,” he says, using the nickname that he used to call me. “I love you. Yes, yes, I do. Don’t shake your head at me and try to tell me how I feel. Because I do. I love you. I want to spend my life with you. Just you. It’s always been you.”
The tears fall before I can help it. I know he’s mistaking them for my acquiescence, but I’m just so sad. In my moment of weakness, he pulls me into his arms and holds me tight, kissing the top of my head. It’s unreal to me how I feel nothing from him. No butterflies. No electricity. Nothing.
He’s just … Jerry.
“Let me go, Jerry,” I tell him as I remain motionless in his arms, just wiping the tears from eyes. “You need to just let me go.”
“I won’t, I can’t let you go, Sophie! Please let me make this up to you. I can’t lose you. Let me,” he says slowly, passionately, his brown eyes earnest as he pulls my face up to his, forcing me to look at him.
“I want to make love to you. Let me make love to you and show you how much you mean to me.” He pleads desperately, but the thought of him touching me in any way that Clayton has makes me physically nauseous. In truth, I feel like it’s uncomfortable for Jerry even to be having the conversation with me. I mean, one day the thought of touching me disgusts him and now it’s something he can’t wait to do? All because I flew across the
world? It makes no sense to me.
Before I can say a word and tell Jerry that it will never happen, someone else does and my body goes cold.
“It’s a little too late for that.” An angry voice I recognize cuts right into our conversation. “And I suggest you get your fucking hands off her before I rip them off your body!”
I quickly move away from a bewildered Jerry, who’s gone deathly still. My eyes find Clayton, hidden in the shadow of a palm tree, arms crossed, wearing the most lethal look I’ve ever seen in my life. How is he here? Isn’t he supposed to be in Singapore? And oh my God in the short while I’ve known him, I’ve seen many furious looks from Clayton, but this, this has got to be the worst.
He’s still wearing his navy blue suit pants and white business shirt he left in, and the top buttons are undone against the brutal heat. His hair is windblown and he looks tired, but still good.
His gaze slices over me in undeniable fury then moves back to Jerry.
As Erik would say, motherfucking shit.
“I’m sorry, have we met?” Jerry asks him coolly, sounding offended and a bit intimidated. However athletic and tall I once thought Jerry was, Clayton absolutely puts him to shame. There is simply no comparison. Clayton outshines Jerry in every way. And Lord Almighty, why is he here? He should still be in Singapore!
“Clayton Sinclair. And you’re Jerry,” he answers him in that arrogant, condescending English voice that he likes to use sometimes. Jerry immediately stands a bit taller as he looks him over. I wonder how long it will take Jerry to figure out why Clayton is acting like he owns …
“Who the fuck is this, Sophie?” Jerry turns angry eyes on me.
“Watch your mouth!” Clayton roars at him.
Right, the pot calling the kettle black. Obviously this is not the time to point that out.
“Don’t tell me how to talk to my girl!” Jerry snaps at Clayton, not one ever to back down in a fight. Oh no.
“Jerry … ” I begin to say that I’m not his girlfriend, but Clayton interrupts me.
He takes a menacing step toward Jerry.
“She’s not your girl.”
“Who the fuck is this British Prick, Soph?” He gives Clayton a look of complete disdain. “And where does he get off giving me shit?” Jerry turns to look at me, pins me with his smart gaze, wanting me to tell him what I’m guessing he’s already figured out. The tears continue to fall because I realize that he will never talk to me again, that this friend of mine from childhood will never want to look at me again.