“Maddox tells me you used to watch him in the park.” She’s officially graduated from bitch to fucking asshole. I know it by the way she says it when he isn’t around, in a tone where she makes fun of the person I used to be. The person I still kind of am. But the difference between then and now is that I know I don’t have to put up with this woman.
I can’t lie, a huge part of me is hurt by the fact that she even knows that. I picture Maddox with his friends all having a laugh at how stupid and naïve his latest is. I stare at the tabletop because if I see an ounce of smugness in her eyes, I’ll lose it.
“That’s right,” I say before I turn to look for Maddox.
“How adorable. Weird. But adorable.” She turns her glass round and round, creating an annoying scraping sound against the wood of the table.
“I suppose,” I say with a smile, still looking at the table.
“You’re quite young.”
“You said that before,” I remind her. Maddox is nowhere to be found, I realize as I glance around the room to find him.
“Yes, well, as a woman in her thirties, I know how hard it is to find someone our age without having to compete against young women like yourself.” It’s a small jab but I’ve had enough.
“It’s possible that no man wants to put up with a woman who can hardly stand herself,” I say and Stella sputters. “I know I’m young but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid, and it doesn’t give you the right to talk to me like I am.”
I stand and grab my things, ready to get out of here because I didn’t come to be put on trial. Maddox is still nowhere to be found and when I near the entrance, I see him. A woman is nearly hiding him and her hand is rubbing his arm. The closer I get to them, the more I try to tell myself that it’s nothing. Nothing is going on here. Only I couldn’t find him because he’s hidden in a deserted part of the bar with an old friend who happens to be nearly dry humping him.
“Let’s get out of here,” I hear her say. When Maddox notices me, he shakes his head.
“Afraid not,” he tells her before looking at me again.
And the woman in front of him turns. Ginger.
“Oh…hi!” I roll my eyes and rush outside, slipping my jacket on as I go. I’m too tired to deal with any of this. Thankfully, I climb into the cab before Maddox manages to even make it outside. When I reach my apartment, I tell the security guard at the desk that I don’t want any visitors.
When Holly sees me enter the apartment, he smiles and gets up from the couch, ready to be filled in on a night that was important to me.
“How’d it…” he trails off when he sees my face. “What happened?”
“I hope you’re not expecting company,” I tell him as I slip off my heels.
“When am I ever?”
I plop down on the couch and realize I’m catching him mid-Netflix marathon.
“His friends were okay. Except one of them, she was kind of a bitch. Then Ginger tried to take him home and I left him there. I’m just…too tired to deal with it. Long day at work and then having to trade insults with this woman. Not prepared for that.”
My cell phone rings and I see Maddox’s number. I turn my phone off and watch Orange is the New Black with Hollis until I fall asleep on the couch.
Chapter 24
The next morning, I turn on my phone to see I have a few messages from Maddox. As I listen, he starts off inquisitive and by his last message, he’s angry.
“Call me when you get this, Emerson.”
I toss my phone on my bed and get ready for the day. Holly sent me a text saying he went out with Bobby so I have the place to myself. I’ve just finished brushing my teeth when my phone rings.
“Hello?”
“I’m headed your way. Call your security and tell him I can come up.” Maddox hangs up and I call the front desk. I pull on a sweater and I’m brushing my hair when there’s a knock on the door. I take my time opening it.
Maddox has his arm against the door frame and the look on his face makes me want to close the door but I’m pissed too, so I don’t.
“What happened last night?”
“Didn’t Stella tell you?” I walk to my room and he follows me.
“Cut it out, Emerson.”
“She told me that you told her about my watching you in the park. Why would you tell her that?” I can’t hide the hurt in my voice. It’s written all over my face and stamped on my heart so it escapes in my words, despite my trying to look like I’m not bothered.
Maddox runs his hands over his face.
“You’re upset with me because I told a good friend of mine about you. About us? It wasn’t at all the way you’re making it out to be.”
“What’d you tell her?”
“I told her you like to people watch and that’s why you looked so familiar to me. I’m not ashamed of it and you shouldn’t be either.”
“Why’d you have to make it seem like I was some desperate groupie, watching you from afar and waiting for my plan of attack?”
“It wasn’t like that, Em, for the last fucking time!”
“Don’t—don’t you dare swear at me!”
“Then don’t accuse me of talking about you in any light other than adoration. What? You want me to go back and tell her not to be mean to you? Not to be a little jealous because she’s single and in her thirties and feels like she has to compete with women like you? Come on, Em.”
“Your friend was rude, Maddox! How dare she speak to me like I’m a child and make me feel like I’m more invested than you are.” I glare at him. “It’s already so clear who is more invested without having to hear it from others.”
“You’re the one who wanted to keep this a secret.”
“Because I’m gaining credibility up there without having everyone judge me because we’re together. And now I’m the one with the most to lose. The one who’s fallen more in love here.”
Despite the fact that I tried so hard to not be that girl again, I’m internally screaming. I’m right back where I started. At the mercy of a man.
“You’re upset because I didn’t love you the moment I saw you. Which is…ridiculous! You know what happens to the women I love instantly? It fizzes out. Usually we fuck and I find the love I had to be a momentary thing.” He frames my face with his hands. “I had to delve deeper with you, which already made you more special than any other woman I’ve encountered.”
He presses his lips to mine and I pull away, my adrenaline still pumping from anger. I’m so hurt, so embarrassed that I can’t react appropriately.
“Fuck love at first sight. Fuck lust. Fuck it all. It pales in comparison to what we have,” he shouts.
I used to think that maybe some things were up to fate. Some things were serendipitous and the reason I even met Maddox was a series of events that lined us up to perfection. But I also know how it feels to place all of your hope in one person and then watch it die. So I hold on to my frustration.
“I’m too exhausted to do this. Maybe the other women you deal with do this, but I don’t have the time to go to bars where I meet your friends who think I’m a stupid little girl and catch you being propositioned by your ex. Do you even know how it feels to be treated like that?”
“Yeah.” He nods. “I do. Every time I have to make sure no one is around before I kiss you.”
“That’s not fair!”
“Yeah? Well neither is me worrying about you last night, wondering if you’re okay. And then I get here and I’m not even allowed up. How is that fair? We’re in a relationship. No matter what, we should have a clear line of communication. You’re not supposed to run away like a child every time something goes wrong.”
“So now I’m a child?”
“You know that’s not what I mean,” he says, holding his hands out, but I don’t want to hear it.
“I need you to leave, Maddox.”
I hear the front door open and Holly calls out my name.
“Please. Just go,” I whisper and then I lock
myself in my bathroom. I’m a coward. I can’t face Maddox’s hurt. So when I turn him away, I have to turn away as well.
After pacing until I hear no sounds in the apartment, I walk out of the bathroom with a sense of loss. Are we over now? Was that it? I think I’m in the clear but Hollis is sitting on my bed and I glare at him, hoping he takes the hint: I don’t want to talk about it.
“I knew it. You want to be alone,” he says as he tosses one of my pillows in the air before catching it. I ignore him because if I speak, it’ll open the door to a conversation I don’t want to have. But he continues. “You just lock yourself away and hide from the problem.”
I get my things ready for a shower and ignore him, but when I try to close the bathroom door, he follows me.
“Answer me this: what’s the difference between Henry and Maddox?”
At the sound of their names together, I pause.
“What?” I ask as I turn on the shower, unsure if I heard him correctly.
“What’s the difference between Henry and Maddox?”
He knows I won’t get undressed while he’s here so I’m forced to respond.
“Almost everything. I hardly remember what Henry was like.” My hand is on my hip because that’s all I’m going to give him.
“What’s the one thing you remember most?”
He gave up.
“I know what you’re thinking, Emmy. Let’s put it into perspective: You run, Maddox runs after you. Henry didn’t. You and Maddox are from different worlds but instead of resenting you for it the way Henry did, Maddox embraces it. Do I need to go on?”
My head feels so heavy and I look at Hollis with tired eyes.
“So I’m an idiot. What’s new?”
“What’s new? He’s probably waiting for you,” he says as he gets up and closes the bathroom door.
I spend my time under my showerhead thinking things over. I think about the past and the present and, most of all, the future. I think about Maddox and me and at the very root, what our problem was. Our problem was that we wanted so much to drag each other into our respective worlds instead of holding hands right down the center.
As soon as I come to that conclusion, I hop out and get dressed as quickly as I can. When I pass Hollis in a flurry of activity, he laughs and wishes me luck.
The cab ride to SoHo is both too long and too short. Too long because I need to see him but too short because I still can’t think of what it is I’m going to say. I find myself standing in front of his door, unable to knock, still trying to figure out my course of action. I was childish and I feel awful for putting him in the situations I have because I love him and the world should know that.
The door swings open and before I can react, I’m being pulled inside.
“I’m sorry I called you a child,” he says before kissing me and my world is spinning. He pulls off my sweater and unbuckles his belt. “You’re not. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
I’m not wearing a bra. The moment the cool air hits my breasts, he grunts and cups them. As he pushes us back toward his couch, his mouth is on my nipple and I’m trying not to rip his hair from his skull. When he strokes me over my yoga pants, the sound I make is part relief and part torture.
“I’m sorry I kicked you out,” I tell him as I help him take off his shirt once he straightens. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you.” He tugs his pants down and pulls at my yoga pants. I somehow manage to get one leg free of it. Impatiently, he lifts me in his arms. “I’m sorry I ran awa—”
With one push, he’s inside of me and we’re against his couch. The harder he pushes into me, the more it moves until it’s against the wall and I’m nearly screaming. The way he touches me, as if he can’t get enough of me, it makes me giddy. He shouts all while my body tightens from my orgasm.
And then it’s over and I’m lying on the couch, catching my breath. We’re a mess and maybe what we’ve done leans more toward carnal desire than romance but it was honest. After all, the truth tends to be messier than perfectly painted lies. I can feel my skin tingling from his touch, the way his five o’ clock shadow scraped at my ribs as he ran his tongue over my nipple, the way it rubbed against my collarbone as he buried his face in my neck when it came to be too much.
But mostly, I love the sounds we made. They ring in my mind like a score on repeat, emphasizing the moments of high tension and the moments of sheer pleasure; each sound pinging off of the walls and right back at us.
“I’m sorry,” he says against my stomach, his breathing finally even. “I didn’t know Stella was going to treat you that way and you didn’t deserve it.”
It’s nice to hear him say it. I can’t help the way tears slide down my cheeks. There’s no music, but I’m crying because I love him and I’ve hurt him. He so easily gives me what I need, but I find myself holding back.
He looks up at me, his chin on my abdomen. More tingling as his stubble chafes against me.
“Hey…” His fingers catch my tears. “What is it?”
“You don’t deserve to be a secret,” I say and he gives me a sad smile.
“I want to tell you that I’ll wait until you’re ready but… I don’t like it.” He sits up. “Do you know why I want to be with you?”
I shrug. “You think I’m nice sometimes?”
He laughs.
“I’m older now and I want someone to potentially spend my life with. I don’t want the games. I know what I want. And I see so much of what I want in you,” he says, and I feel worse.
I sit up, too.
“It’s both terrifying and lovely to hear you say that.”
“It doesn’t have to be terrifying. I’m content to be as we are for as long as you’re comfortable but when I told you that I loved you, I meant it. I still mean it. There may be plenty of people in this world who don’t take that seriously, but I do.”
There’s a difference between the moment I got in the cab with Maddox and the moment I’m faced with now. I didn’t know how important that cab ride would be for me, but I know right now this moment will set the course for our relationship so I have to make sure I’m careful.
“I think…I should tell my father we’re together. Clearly, this is serious.”
“Clearly,” he tells me as he looks down to where he’s still nestled inside of me. I laugh and he winces as he pulls out. When I stand and cross my feet, he looks confused before understanding and walking away, tucking himself into his underwear. His pants start to slide down his ass and I giggle. When he comes back with a washcloth, I try not to cringe as the pressure of the warm cloth hurts a little.
“Sorry,” he says and kisses me.
“Don’t be. I loved every moment.”
He takes the rest of my clothes off—my yoga pants that are pulled up one calf—and leads me to the bathroom. I watch him as he turns on the shower and then takes his clothes off.
“Are we showering together?”
“It would look that way, Emerson.”
I smile and get in the shower. The water is perfect and when he gets in behind me, I reach for him.
“I love being here with you,” I tell him. He ducks us under the water and then pulls me into his arms.
“I love you being here.”
Chapter 25
I’m seated across from my father. It’s been months since I’ve had lunch with him, so I was surprised to find this lunch penciled in, on a Sunday no less. I guess he took my words to heart and ran it by Hollis because here we are.
“You look good,” he tells me as I unfold my napkin and place it over my pencil skirt. It’s Sunday, but I wondered if this was a business meeting so I dressed the part.
“Thanks. You look…” I look him over, “rested.” My smile is terse because I don’t know how to be anymore. There so much love at this table but it’s timid, tiptoeing around us.
“I really want to talk to you about things,” he starts, and I can’t tell where this is going.
“Okay.�
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We place our orders and once we’re alone, he smiles. But it’s small and short and sad, and it reminds me of the way he used to smile after we buried my mother.
“Dad?” I ask. My hand scoots toward him but stops at the center of the table.
“I’m so afraid to let Kingsley go.”
I look away and then look back at him. I don’t know what to say to him.
“Then why do it?” I want to ask him if it’s because he thinks I can’t handle it.
He shakes his head.
“I don’t know. I guess it’s expected of me. I feel like I can’t keep up anymore. I can’t rely on just my ear anymore. I can’t… continue to pretend that my passion makes up for the one thing I love more than anything else.” He fiddles with his napkin. “I guess I assumed with the free time I’d have, I’d get to see you more. I’d get to finally mourn Giselle. But neither of these things are happening because I’m losing you and Giselle would hate this. She’d hate it, so I can’t think of her because it breaks my heart.”
I tear up. I can’t help it. I haven’t heard her name in so long, and her memories are starting to feel fictional. Like some movie I caught and not like the woman who shaped me.
“I’m sorry if I disappointed you…” I tell him and he shakes his head again, this time more violently, and that hand that met him halfway across the table is now clutched in his.
“I disappointed you,” he says, and I can’t help my tearful laugh. As it dies down, my face is contorted, trying to stop the tears.
“I’ve let you down so many times.” It feels so nice to tell him what I feel.
“Bullshit! I’m so proud of you, Emerson. At every turn, you impress me.” The hand that holds mine shows his age. It’s veiny and speckled with liver spots. But these hands create and if Maddox is right and the same genius favors the both of us, I know he’s itching to create.
“Tell me you’re coming back,” I say, on the verge of begging.
The Sound of Serendipity Page 20