by Aly White
I gasp in the most melodramatic way, “This is Armani!”
“It’s just that Julian looks much more comfortable.” She adds.
Julian is definitely dressed much more comfortably than me. He’s in a grey turtleneck with a lighter grey wool blazer over it. He also had a black overcoat earlier that blended well with his dark grey pants.
“I call it casual formal,” Julian says proudly. “The real star tonight is Aubrey though.”
“Lil’ ol’ me?” she says in a phony country girl accent.
We laugh in reply. It is amusing to see our trio dynamic working. This is a glimpse of how our future would look. I reach for one of the appetizers when I realize the plates are empty. I stare bewildered at the two people who’ve just finished three plates of different appetizers without even thinking of saving any for me.
Some dynamic this is.
“You guys ate everything? I didn’t get to taste any of them!” I asked a little irritated. They laugh even more in reply. This is when Jeff comes around again and clears our table so he can bring in the next course.
The next course is soup. Jeff brings us bowls of caramelized onion soup. Julian who isn’t too fond of onions actually finished his bowl first. Once we’ve finished, Jeff once again comes to clear the table. This time, he replaces our Rosé with darker red wine.
The waiter returns with what he calls Pan-Seared Scallops over Lobster-Prosciutto Risotto, finally something with meat! He places down the first plate in front of Aubrey, and as soon as she has a whiff of it up-close, she couldn’t stop moaning. She’s moaning more than she’s ever moaned for us. I think this weirded Jeff out a little bit, but we thank him, and he heads back to the main dining area.
“This is so good,” Aubrey says, moaning into her soup spoon. She uses the spoon like a tiny shovel, cutting up the scallops and taking some with a spoonful of rice with pieces of lobster and prosciutto.
We eat the risotto surprisingly fast. It is just that good. After the routine of clearing out the plates, Jeff brings us our salads, fresh romaine and purple lettuce, dried berries, feta cheese, and candied walnuts all tossed in special raspberry vinaigrette. As expected, it is an amazing precursor to the main course.
“Did I tell you guys that I was looking for an assistant?” Aubrey says.
“Don’t look at us, we know nothing about veterinary related things.” Julian answers.
“He can barely take care of Jägermeister…juggernaut…” I trail off, giving up remembering the name of the snake we named together.
Aubrey laughs then continues, “Of course not. Anyway, there’s this girl who seems really qualified named Laurel, but I was hoping you two could help me sift through these applicants.” She smiles at us sweetly, trying to convince us to help. We agree to help without a second thought.
Jeff returns with the main course. Olive oil-confit chicken with cipollini onions, he called it. I like gourmet dishes, but even I’m not sure what he just said.
“Why do you need an assistant anyway? It’s not like you have your own clinic.” I say in between bites.
She raises an eyebrow, giving us this look…
“Are you opening your own clinic?” Julian and I say in unison.
“That’s the plan!”
“Tired of working for your parents?” Julian asks.
She nods as she takes a bite out of her chicken. But I thought of something better. Julian and I can help.
“I have a better idea,” I say and point to Julian. “We can help you buy it.”
Julian looks up at me mid-bite on his last piece of chicken. “Buy what?”
“We can help her buy her parent’s veterinary clinic.”
Aubrey looks like she is going to faint. Her eyes are widened, and her mouth is agape. “No. Guys, you’re not buying my parents’ businesses for me.”
“We’re not buying it for you; we’re buying it with you. Once you’ve made enough money, you can just repurchase our share from us.”
“No, but thanks. I can handle myself.”
“Suit yourself. Just remember, we’re always here to help.” I shrug.
“Yeah, right. Always.” She grumbles under her breath.
Jeff arrives for the last time and takes our dirty plates to come back with a Cucumber and Avocado gelato for dessert. He serves the bowls starting with Aubrey. We thank him, and he smiles politely, replacing our wine with a dessert wine, and leaves.
“We also have another thing we’d like to talk about,” Julian says.
My heart starts to pound, each beat stronger than the last.
This is it. The moment of truth.
Aubrey
I can feel my hands starting to become clammy, the little hairs on my skin stand up, the butterflies in my stomach fly around in a mass rage, but I don't mean literally. Well, the last time I've checked, I believe my outward appearance manages to still look the same. Although my head has failed to do so at keeping its saneness the minute I've entered the restaurant and noticed it is empty, only to see Julian and Lucas standing in the middle—both of them are holding a bouquet of flowers.
The tension is clouding my head, I never knew I’d be this mystified when it comes to love. Or is there going to be love, a budding romance between us three? Is it going to be as sweet as the dessert on my plate, which I haven’t even touched once because the real thing is in front of me?
I already have a strong hint of where this is going, and it baffles me that I can never be ready enough to reciprocate whatever feelings they have for me. Because in the first place, how am I going to give them something that I do not possess, to begin with. When the thing called love has remained tarnished in my mind, a shallow concept and creation of humanity.
And it hits me, what is love exactly? Is it more than sleeping together, more than our skins grazing against each other, more than moaning our names as we reach our climax, more than passing our sweats to each other as we move and grind passionately? Better than these things?
Can they just be satisfied with what we have right now? They seem to have fun, and I do as well. Why do we have to complicate everything that is going smoothly at the moment?
The nervousness is getting into my body. However, there is a part of me that is giddy to hear what they are about to say. I try to lock away that little part of me, but its excitement is overflowing that restraining it seems impossible to do.
Lucas is rubbing his chin, in deep seriousness.
Oh, how I want to rub that chin as well, run my lips all over it, stick out my tongue and moisten it. But, mister, why must you ask for more? When licking is more than enough?
He removes his hand on his chin and transfers it to the glass, which he swirls the wine in it by moving his hand in a circular motion. He sips at the drink and does a huge gulp. He clears his throat and is about to say something, but all of a sudden, Julian breaks the silence before him.
“There is no such need to be so tense, this is not like you,” Julian says casually as he puts an arm around Lucas's shoulders. Then he leans in and moves his mouth closer to Lucas's ear and whispers something I can’t exactly discern.
I’d moan your names into your ears. But why must you want more?
Julian falls back, but before he completely returns to sit in a proper position, he licks Lucas' ear as he moves away.
I’d love to lick both of your ears as well, be it all night, all day, or my whole life. But why must you two want more?
I feel a solid pang in my chest, the kind that strikes you because once they drop what they are meaning to say, it's all going to be over. Just a snap of a finger and everything would crumble down.
I know what’s happening. I’m afraid to want more.
Lucas clears his throat for another time, removing the pressure, the uncertainty in his body. He leans forward to the table, signaling that he is finally going to speak. But then he takes Julian's hand first and brings it to the table and clutches it.
“Yeah, we love you. This guy is taking so long t
o say it. I hope you feel the same way as we do,” Julian says, taking everything Lucas is holding back to say to the table.
“You’re taking this lightly,” Lucas says. “We just can’t give her a half-assed confession. Girls deem it as an extraordinary moment in their life.”
“But she’s different. Aubrey is not like any other girl. She is damn special.”
“I know, she’s more than special, I’ve always known it. We’ve kept an eye on her for so long,” Lucas pauses and then he turns to look at me with his eyes filled with luster. “You’ve stirred something in us even way before when we were young, but we do not know exactly what it was. And the time we spent together, the last few weeks, has made it clear that it is love. We love you, Aubrey.”
I return their love-struck expression on their face with nothing but emptiness in my eyes. Now that they have finally made themselves clear, their agenda for tonight, I feel a bit distressed, not in the way that their words have greatly surprised me, but in a way that the only thing I have wished for not to come, has finally arrived, and apparently, I have no idea how to deal with it.
The thought—once—has visited my head, in a fleeting second, to accept their love and just discover what comes of it during the process. The ‘process,’ my inner self snickers.
Love and romance are tedious after all. I wonder why people are hugely into it when it only brings you nothing but trouble. And here, right in front of me, is incoming trouble.
There is no way I’d be able to produce any words or even in the right mind to respond to the absurdity coming out of their mouths. So I snatch the wine bottle from the table and drink straight from it, greedily gulping down. The bottle of red wine here is the only one that makes sense, and so I turn to it to reclaim the soundness of my mind.
Lucas launches himself forward, above the table, extending his arm to reach for the bottle in my mouth. He grabs it and says in a perplexed state, “Woah, easy. Was my confession too much? Or do you prefer the casual way like Julian’s? Then, I shall turn back the time and redo it, anything for you.”
He stops speaking and stares at me, after a few seconds he lets out a short but deep sigh and continues to tell me,” My bad. Did I make you uncomfortable?”
I only stare back at him, for a while silence has conquered the room until Julian decides to speak. “He fell all over you—,“ he lightly smacks Lucas's left shoulder once, “—actually, we. And I know this kind of relationship is far from ordinary, but I like you, and I like Lucas as well. You two are precious to me, and I would surrender everything I have just to give you guys the happiness you both deserve.”
He smiles as his face gets filled with warmth. The sheen dominates every part of his eyes as though it is a star inherently and unceasingly blinking in the pitch black sky.
“We are not expecting you to respond right away, but I wish you to consider what we just confessed. We’ve contemplated so much about this, and I believe this is the best decision, to tell you everything,” Lucas says.
“We can wait,” Julian says, now there is a hint of seriousness in his voice as if it is oozing with genuine intent.
“Yeah, we’ll wait,” Lucas adds.
I glance over at the table, looking for the bottle of wine only to realize that Lucas has already placed it on his side and to arch my body and bend forward is the only way to retrieve it. However, I prevent myself from yielding into my desire—to down the wine in one shot—and instead, I take my own glass and drink from it. When even a single drop is nowhere to be seen in my glass, I get the sudden impulse to just fuck everything up and seize the bottle and leave the restaurant at once.
But a single glance at the two gorgeous guys in front of me and knowing what they feel about me, I crumble for a second, and I wish the world crumbles with me. How do I escape this problematic situation without hurting them?
The confession in my head, the pain in my heart isn’t particularly caused by them. It is the conflict I have created because I am unable to believe and put my faith in love.
And when I hear Lucas mutter, "I love you," I burst as though the bubble I have trained to be tough in my body couldn't take the forces that are striking it, and so it explodes.
I spring up from my seat and walk toward the other side of the table, where Lucas and Julian sit and utter to their face, “I'm sorry…”
I grab the bottle of red wine before finishing my sentence, “but I can't do this.”
I turn around and start to walk away from them, and after I have distanced myself enough in which I won't be able to have second thoughts and end up running to them, I rush out of the restaurant, out of the hotel, out to the open, empty air.
I head for the shore at the back side of the hotel. I can hear the waves crashing against each other. I notice there is a party on the farther part of the seaside. The humungous speakers are blaring upbeat song, bringing faint sound to my side.
I sit on the sand the moment I find a spot where I can ponder and drink my wine in peace. I stare at the ocean as I sip from my bottle. The surface of the sea produces a glint almost like the sheen in Julian's eyes.
No, his was brighter and more beautiful, and if I have the capability, I will fill the earth with that kind of brightness because it is far better than any source of light, better than the moon, better than the sun.
I let my eyes feast on the serenity of the sea, attempting to put some senses back into my head. I sniff the fresh ocean air and drink my wine as I stare at the very ocean for some time. And despite my effort to cast away every confounding thought in my head, it always comes back.
Here’s the catch, it never gets better the second time around for they get morphed into a huge boulder, and it is hurled toward my direction.
So I try to put things together, untangle the intertwined ropes in my head but nothing works out, and everything is still difficult to comprehend. It seems like my brain has a number of different personas and everyone is telling me different things all together.
To be frank, I am uncertain of what I actually want. Do I want a relationship with them? But I’ve always believed love is nothing but a fallacy, and so how is this relationship going to turn out? A relationship without love? Then it is not going to be exactly different with what we currently have—sex in the morning, sex in the afternoon, sex at night, fucking all the time.
But what if I turn them down? Are they going to avoid me in the future? Get me out of the picture? Take me completely out of their lives?
My thoughts, then, get interrupted when I hear a familiar voice call my name. I turn my head to the side to look, searching for the owner of the voice only to see Austin hand in hand with Diana.
For a second, I get surprised, and it sucks because it is as though fate wants to toy with me and smack me in the face the picture of a happy couple, brimming with love. But at that point, it seems that I have lost the sanity to even care at all, about how I look to them, about how happy they are—they are all bullshit.
“Is this your new spot?” Austin says, asking if the seaside by a luxurious hotel is my new drinking spot.
Diana utters a short greeting and waves her hand slightly. I give her the same greeting as I force myself to give her a smile. The snake—I mean, Diana—smiles back.
“What are you doing here?” I ask them.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Austin raises his hand that is clutching Diana’s hand. “The question should be addressed to you.”
I raise an eyebrow to signify that I give no fuck anymore. “Didn’t you just say that this is my new spot?” I pause, “For real though, why here, why now, of all times?”
“We were planning to drop by at this famous restaurant in the nearby hotel—” he points at the hotel I just came out, “but some assholes reserved the whole place,” he says. “Seriously, who does that nowadays?”
He pauses and turns to Diana. “It’s a smart move. I should’ve reserved it first for you.”
“If you’re just going to be a damn obnoxious
prick, then it is better if you walk away right now,” I snap and give him a sharp and grave glare.
Unexpectedly, Austin whispers something to Diana and the second he falls back, Diana gives me another smile and leaves. Austin’s eyes follow her wife for some time and then when she has finally disappeared before our eyes, he transfers his gaze to me. He walks to my side and takes the spot next to me, giving no care if the sand might stain his white tailored pants.
“Nice suit,” I apathetically say to him.
He doesn’t respond to my small talk. Instead, he snatches the bottle in my hand and drinks from it. No one is breaking the silence between us from then on, and I wonder that perhaps Austin is facing a conflict with his own relationship as well. However, looking at them gush over each other a minute ago takes away its possibility.
We don’t talk for quite some time, until Austin finally asks, “Any news specifically concerning Julian and Lucas?”
As he brings up the names I am purposely taking out of my mind, I almost spew the red liquid in my mouth. “How did you know?”
“I’m your brother. Of course, I’d know,” he says. “Can you tell me what’s bothering you?”
I don’t respond right away, doubting if I should tell him, and then it hits me that he is my brother, and I should put some trust in him. “I don’t know what to do,” I say. “I’m confused. I know that I want deep down, but I can’t bring myself to accept it because,” I pause, “I don’t know, maybe because I don’t believe in love. And anyway I’ve fucked things up already. I ran out like a fucking coward.”
“You know what, love comes when you least expect it. And it doesn’t go easily so if they truly love you, they’d take you back with all their heart.”
“But—“
Austin interrupts and says, “Trust them, will you?”
I look at my brother’s face and study it, and I see nothing but love decorating his face. “It’s true. We kinda look similar, just get that angst out of your face,” he says.
It hits me that the expression of someone in love has been on my face for a while, and I am the only one who has failed to notice it. Yeah, I love them so much, and probably it is time to give this damn love one more shot.