by Vivien Vale
Maggie meets my gaze and gives me a wink as she ruffles her son’s hair. I recoil slightly.
I want to ask her what the hell she’s doing, but I hate to quarrel in front of the kid. He’s probably been through enough already as it is.
Cartoons are blaring from the sixty-inch flat screen above my fireplace in the living room, but they’re visible to the kid due to the open concept of my floor plan.
Darren is eating cereal and gives me a shy smile as I greet the two of them. I immediately notice that the counter tops, which I prefer to be kept clean at all times, are laden with dirty dishes.
My irritation is soaring through the fucking roof, and it hasn’t even been five fucking minutes since I got home.
“Uh, Maggie?” I scratch my head, trying to speak with as much politeness as I can.
“Yeah?” She gives me a seductive look as she puts a strawberry to her lips.
“Do you think you could clean up some of these dishes after you’ve finished eating?” I hate sounding like I’m trying to appease her. It’s my apartment that she’s invading after all.
“Sure.” Maggie shrugs with indifference.
The kid finishes his cereal and glances up at Maggie. “Mom, can I go watch cartoons in Mr. Daniel’s living room?” He points to the TV mounted on the wall.
“Of course, sweetie.” She strokes his cheek and plants a kiss on his forehead before he skips off. Then, she gives me a smile as if her son is the most adorable human on earth. “I guess it will take some time for him to start calling you Dad.”
I glance at the boy who’s happily sitting on the floor, his legs crossed and staring up at the TV.
“Maggie...” I begin, running a hand through my hair. “Have you heard anything about the results? It’s been weeks now.”
“Nope.” Maggie shakes her head and splashes a disgruntled look over her face. “It won’t matter anyway. We’re a family, Daniel.”
“Maggie, if he’s mine, sure...I’ll take responsibility. That doesn’t mean we’ll be a family.” I give her a firm stare.
She reacts like she’s totally fucking unfazed. “We’ll see,” she states with breezy confidence as she begins to rinse and wash the dishes on the counter.
It’s been three weeks since I took the DNA test. Three fucking long weeks.
Maggie is driving me crazy, waltzing around my penthouse apartment like she owns the place, helping herself to my food and laying around as if she belongs there.
I hate the way things are moving, as if we were a real couple or something. I decide to take matters into my own hands. If I want results from the lab, I’m going to just have to call them myself and demand an answer.
I wait until Maggie leaves one afternoon to pick up Darren from school before I dial the number to the hospital.
I have to jump through a few hoops and get redirected a few times on the call, but I finally reach a live person on the other end from the lab.
I clear my throat, explaining to the nice woman on the phone who I am, and that I’m waiting for DNA results.
The woman sounds confused at first. “I’ve been trying to reach you for almost three weeks now,” she admits.
“Um, what?” I ask, feeling slightly alarmed.
“Yes,” the woman confirms. “A woman keeps answering on your home line. Every time I call, she tells me either you aren’t home, or you’re unavailable and there is no other way to reach you.”
Instant fury seethes in my veins. “Well, here I am,” I say through clenched teeth.
“You are more than welcome to come view the results, sir,” the woman says. “We will just need you to come in person so that we can match your identification for confidentiality reasons.”
“I’ll be right there,” I tell the woman and hastily hang up the phone.
I don’t have time to call my driver, so I flag down a cab and rush to the hospital, marching through the doors to the lab with my ID in hand.
I receive the little manila envelope with the results, my hands trembling so much that I have a difficult time opening the package.
I take the sealed white documents out of their container and scan the results.
Negative….no matching DNA.
I stare at the words, feeling both enraged and vindicated at the same time. I clutch the results tightly in my white-knuckled hands all the way home.
When I get back inside the penthouse, Maggie is sitting at the kitchen table, wearing a black jumper with her leg propped casually up on the table. She’s scrolling through her social media feeds and smiling.
Once she takes one solid look at me, though, her smug satisfaction collapses and she turns as white as a ghost.
She defensively stands up and takes a step back. I wave the DNA papers in front of her.
“Read this Maggie,” I practically roar. I’m so angry I don’t even recognize myself. “Negative. Darren isn’t my son.”
Tears tumble down Maggie’s eyes. “I’m sorry…I really thought he was yours,” she yelps like a wounded puppy.
“You lied to me,” I growl at her. “Unforgivable!”
“Daniel…we’re good together,” Maggie pleads, still unwilling to give up the fight.
“Get out!” I demand. “Get out of my house now.”
A look of shame settles on Maggie’s face as her son comes out from the hallway looking scared. She quickly composes herself and dries her tears while the boy looks on in confusion.
But I can’t worry about her right now. I need to find Rose and tell her the results. I grab my keys to leave when Maggie stops me, gripping me by the elbow.
“Wait,” she says, clutching me. “Do you love her? Do you love Rose?” Her eyes are bloodshot, red and swollen with tears and desperation.
I don’t even have to hesitate before responding. “Yes,” I tell Maggie coldly. “I love Rose.” I shrug her off and run out the door to chase down my dreams before they slip through my fingers forever.
When I arrive at Rose’s apartment about fifteen minutes later, I’m a sweaty, panting ball of stress. I ring the doorbell, but then find myself pounding on the door a few seconds later in frustration, frantically calling out Rose’s name.
I lean against the door, trying to compose myself. To my surprise, Rose’s cousin Jenna answers the door. As soon as she sees me, she immediately moves to slam the door in my face.
“No, stop!” I cry out, putting my shoulder against it to keep it open.
Jenna gives me a sullen eye roll and crosses her arms over her chest. “What the hell do you want?”
“I need to see Rose,” I tell her, craning my neck to look past her into the apartment.
“She’s not here,” Jenna states flatly and tries to push the door closed again, but I’m stronger.
“When will she be back? Or will you just tell me where she is?” I beg.
Jenna’s face contorts into disgust. I have no idea whether she’s lying, and Rose is actually in her bedroom, but I can’t just shove her aside and tumble unwanted into the apartment.
I use a gentler approach. “Please, tell me where she is, Jenna.” I make eye contact with her. “I understand you’re angry and upset, just as Rose is, and you both have every right to be.”
Jenna sighs dramatically, a look of annoyance on her face, but I can tell she’s caving.
“Please,” I continue, pleading my case. “Everything is just a misunderstanding. I need to explain everything to Rose, but I need your help in finding her.” I give her a pitiful look.
Jenna studies me for a moment. “Do you love Rose?”
“Yes!” I exclaim, ready to shout it from the rooftops if I have to.
That’s when I realize—I didn’t hesitate to profess my love for Rose to Maggie and Jenna. There had never been any doubt as to what I felt for her.
Determination swells in my heart, and I plead with Jenna one last time, looking into her eyes and searching for any residing compassion and empathy.
“Come on, Jenna,” I tell h
er. “The kid isn’t mine, and I need to tell Rose.”
Finally, after what seems like an eternity of pestering, Jenna caves.
“Okay,” she sighs and places her hand on the door jam. “I’ll tell you where she is if you promise not to hurt her again.”
“Never again,” I vow firmly, looking her stone cold in the eyes.
“She’s at the beach,” Jenna reveals. “Out by Coney Island.”
I lean in to give Jenna a hug, thanking her and the stars above for helping me in my quest. Jenna reluctantly hugs me back, but I can tell by her eyes that she’s smiling internally and rooting for us.
I get my driver to bring me out to Coney Island. I wander the beach for a while before I spot her—the woman I’ve given my heart to without knowing it.
I walk up to her, keeping to the side, so that she won’t notice me right away. Her hair dances around her like billows of strands stretching out to the sky, like feathers reaching for the sea.
The early morning hues of the sky reflect a pinkish purply glow around Rose that makes her dauntingly magnificent.
I approach her carefully and stand just above where she has her knees tucked up to her chest and her toes curled into the sand.
“May I sit?” I request.
Rose stills for a second before she glances at me briefly. Then, she sets her eyes back on the Atlantic horizon. She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t get up and walk away either, so I take that as a step in the right direction.
I grunt and crouch down on the sand beside her. “You don’t have to say anything,” I begin. “I know you’re really mad at me. Just hear me out for a minute. Let me explain everything.”
Rose doesn’t flinch or blink. She continues to look out at the scope of the ocean as the waves swell and crash to the shore.
“The kid isn’t mine,” I tell her. “The DNA test was negative. Maggie was just trying to trap me. Whatever we had between us was long gone, even before you came.”
Confusion appears on Rose’s face. She stands up and begins to walk away, but I’ve come too far to lose her now.
I try to walk beside her, but she pushes me away.
“Stop it!” she screams. “Leave me alone!”
I do as she says and allow her to wander a few steps ahead.
“Rose!” I shout to her on the empty beach. “Come back here. I love you, dammit!”
Rose halts in her tracks, her tiny footprints leaving a trail in her wake. She slowly spins around and gives me a quizzical look.
“I love you!” I declare again, not only to her but to the whole fucking world if it wants to hear. I raise my hands above my head and profess it with vigor. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose you.”
Finally, I notice the faintest smile cross her lips, but it’s so subtle under the fresh morning sunlight that it’s hard to see.
Then, out of nowhere, Rose doubles over and begins retching, dry heaving and clutching the sand.
“Rose?” I jog up to help her and, in that instant, she vomits all over the fucking beach.
Rose
“Rose, are you okay?”
Daniel’s hand tenderly resting on my shoulder is like a strong cup of coffee, waking me up from the dull, lifeless week I had hiding out on the beach.
I enjoy the feeling so much that I don’t respond right away—especially once the feeling starts evolving. The feel of Daniel’s touch, which I haven’t felt in a fucking long time, is sending little shivers from my shoulder to my toes.
Heat flows through me as well, and I don’t think it has anything to do with the fact I just vomited right on the fucking sand.
Blech! It’s right between Daniel’s feet and mine—but I don’t want to look at it anymore.
So, at last, I raise my head, and meet Daniel’s pleading eyes. His touch and those eyes obliterate all the bullshit, all the torment I’ve been putting myself through for days.
And all the suspicion and wariness that began weighing on me the instant I saw his face on the beach is crumpling down to nothing in the face of this feeling…
“Daniel, I feel great.”
“But...”
“I don’t know why I threw up, and I’m not even sure why I feel great now...”
“I love you.”
That’s why.
“Could you say it again?”
“Rose, I love you.”
He’s the damn medicine man.
“That’s it, that’s why. I know it’s not rational, and if you asked me five minutes ago...”
“I love you, and I mean it, Rose.”
“One more time.”
“I love you.”
“I...” I shake my head in disbelief, feeling hot, feeling lighter than air. Daniel leans in and gently kisses me on the cheek.
I lean into Daniel, wrapping my arms around him. He closes his arms delicately around me, moving in more closely and landing a feather-light, ethereal kiss by my ear.
“You were saying?” he whispers.
“I...I love you, too.” I chuckle softly, and Daniel does the same. As I laugh a bit more and let my head fall onto Daniel’s chest, teardrops fall one after another from my eyes.
What began as a delicate embrace grows naturally into a warm hug, as we prop each other up in the sand.
The realization is instant, yet the fullness of it dawns over me slowly and beautifully: This is where I belong.
So I stay there, in Daniel’s arms, feeling the sea breeze waft around us, listening to the seagulls and the crashing waves, hearing the distant sounds of joyous beach-goers and Cyclone riders, relishing in just how obvious it is.
Yet, I wouldn’t mind hearing it one more time.
“Say it again, please?”
“Rose, I love you.”
I release a couple more joyous, tearful laughs.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Rose?” Daniel asks.
“I love you.”
For me, those words are like a cure for both of us.
We slide slightly away from each other as the sounds of loud, boisterous crowds start to grow closer, the beach getting more crowded.
Daniel and I are not ready to leave this spot quite yet. He gazes down at me, and I return the look, beholding his gorgeous face and his eyes, seeing that he’s shed a few tears of his own.
How long had we been standing together on the beach? I don’t know, and I don’t care.
“Really, Rose,” Daniel begins, “the whole thing was just...”
“Hush. It doesn’t matter, and you explained it perfectly.”
“I love you.”
“Just like that.”
We laugh, and I watch Daniel’s face transform as a magnificent smile graces his lips.
“What do you want to do right now, Rose? Whatever it is, I’ll make it happen.”
“I want to kiss you.”
“Then please do.”
“I need to brush my teeth first. Remember?”
We both look at the sand. We somehow shifted, unconsciously, away from the spot where I threw up. We look at each other and burst into laughter once more.
“If you insist.”
“I insist. That’s what I want to do right now: brush my teeth.”
Daniel nods as he contemplates my desire.
“As I said, I will make that happen. That is entirely doable.”
“Hey, I can make that happen. I’ve got a toothbrush in my loft and everything. I even have toothpaste!”
“You rented a loft?”
“Come on, how did you find me?”
I start walking towards the building, and I grab Daniel’s arm so he stays with me.
I know things are changing fast. It’s crazy. A few minutes and a few words can transform your entire world just like that.
“Jenna told me Coney Island, so here I am.”
“That’s it?”
“It’s not like you were hard to find.”
Fuck, maybe there’s a reason I chose a vacation rental that’s eve
n closer than the airport.
“Don’t downplay your sleuthing skills.”
Daniel deftly shifts his arm out of my hand, and laces our fingers together.
Then, he looks at me with that smile, and I feel the heat and weightlessness as strongly as ever.
“You don’t mind me tracking you down?”
“No, not this time.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re showing me where I belong.”
Daniel looks away, nodding like he understands but clearly trying to figure out what the hell I mean.
To tell the truth, I’m not sure myself, but I almost start crying again when I say it.
The weather’s especially nice today, and the crowds around Coney Island are growing large and rowdy. Things are starting to get crazy crowded when we finally walk into the loft building.
“Not bad,” Daniel comments when we walk into the loft. “What is this, an Airbnb?”
“A lady never tells. Now, excuse me while I go brush my fucking teeth.”
I do a little spin while walking to the bathroom. I’m actually starting to like this place, a change of heart that evolved over the last thirty seconds since I walked through the door with Daniel.
I go into the bathroom by myself and feel a pang of apprehension that being alone in the bathroom is somehow going to break the spell of the outdoors, that I’ll suddenly start revisiting the uncertain—and maybe even the misery of the past few days now that I’m out of the enchanting seaside air.
I give my teeth a thorough brushing, and it doesn’t happen. I still feel warm and excited at the thought of what the future holds—and even warmer and a bit tingly at the thought of tomorrow.
Just to be sure of both my feelings and my oral hygiene, I floss and then rinse with mouthwash for a full minute.
I feel even warmer, even more tingly—this is where I belong.
Well, to be more accurate, where I belong is in the room with Daniel, who’s being very quiet out there.
“You’re still here!” I cry out joyfully as I leave the bathroom. Daniel’s sitting on the cheap little loveseat, resting his arm on the back.
“Of course I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere. Nothing could move me.”