I Found You

by Lark, Jane

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she mocked in a harsh voice. “Have you slept with her?”

  “Lindy…”

  “You owe me the truth, Jason.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes!” Her hand came up and she slapped my face, hard.

  I deserved it, I suppose. But when she moved to slap me again I caught her hand and held her gaze. “Lindy, please, this is pointless. I don’t know why you came here. It’s over between us and it’s only coincidence I’ve met Rachel now.”

  “And coincidence that she hit on you the day before you finish with me…”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She slapped me again.

  I hadn’t been ready to stop it. My cheek stung.

  “I’m sick of your sorries, and I’m sick of you!”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she sobbed as both her fists struck out at me.

  I caught her hands. People were staring at us. “Calm down, Lindy.”

  “Calm down? I hate you! I hate you like I’ve never hated anyone!”

  I’d convinced myself she hadn’t loved me a week ago, now I knew I was wrong, or maybe she was wrong; perhaps she’d convinced herself she did love me. Either way, whatever her emotion, she was really upset.

  I tried to hold her but she wouldn’t let me.

  “Just leave me alone!”

  She stepped back a pace, so I couldn’t reach her unless I followed, and then she pulled off her left glove. “Here!” she yelled at me as she took off her ring and thrust it into my open palm. “You can have this back, I don’t want it! I don’t want you! Not now I know what a lying, cheating bastard you are, and everyone at home will know too, including your parents.”

  “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” I reached my hand out toward her.

  She stepped back. “Don’t touch me. I hate you! I don’t know you anymore!”

  “Lind…”

  “Don’t ‘Lind,’ me! Not anymore! You’re nobody to me now!”

  I sensed everyone about us staring. They probably thought I’d done something really horrible to her. Lord, though, I had, hadn’t I? And she had nowhere to stay tonight. I couldn’t just leave her. “Do you want me to take you to a hotel? Where are you going to sleep?”

  “Like you care…”

  “I care.”

  She moved to slap me again, but I caught her hand. “I can’t just walk away from you, we’ve spent too many years together. I know you don’t believe me but I do care about you, I just… I can’t… it isn’t love.”

  She was crying again, and my hand still gripped her wrist. Then it was like she just deflated and crumpled against me.

  “I don’t know who to trust. I don’t know what to do without you… I’ve needed you, and you haven’t been there…” Fucking hell. “We’re meant to be together.”

  I held her for a while and let her cry it out. But I really didn’t think it was true. Even in the beginning when we were sixteen she’d been the one who’d approached me. She’d followed me and talked to me and hung around me. I’d just given in. I’d always just given in. It had just been the easiest thing to do. I’d chosen Rachel. I chose Rach.

  I let Lindy go. I had to let her go now. I had to let her move on. “What do you want me to do? Find you a hotel, or would you rather I take you back to the airport?”

  She stopped crying and straightened, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her coat. Then she stared at me. “Take me to the airport. You obviously want rid of me.”

  I didn’t say sorry again. I’d said it enough. I was sorry I’d hurt her. But I wasn’t sorry with the decision I’d made. I knew it was the right one.

  “Come on,” I took her hand. She didn’t pull it free, but she didn’t grasp mine.

  I lead her back to fetch her suitcase. Both of us were silent. There was nothing more to say.

  Her suitcase was still in the hall, thank God.

  I picked it up and we stepped back into the street. We had to walk a little way to hail a cab.

  I wish Rach had a cell, then at least I could text her and tell her where I was, and that I’d be a while. I could be hours. Fuck.

  My hand touched Lindy’s back as the cab pulled up. It was out of instinct only. I was so used to looking out for her. I don’t think she’d ever looked out for me.

  She moved aside.

  I opened the door for her, and then put her case in the boot, before getting in on the other side.

  She didn’t want me in the cab. I sensed it. But I couldn’t just leave her. I had to know she was safely on her way home. I’d call Mom when I got back and have her call Lindy’s mom, and make sure they knew when Lindy would arrive so they could meet her at the airport at the other end and look after her there.

  ~

  When I got back to the apartment, I pressed the code into the front door pad, then slipped my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket. When I walked in, Rachel was sitting on the bottom step of the stairs facing me. She looked like she’d been there ages. She looked like she was falling apart. Her eyes were red rimmed and there were tear stains on her cheeks.

  It broke my heart. I felt it crack in two.

  I loved this woman. I loved her as I’d never loved Lindy, and no matter Lindy’s protestation that she loved me, I was also sure I loved Rachel more than Lindy had ever loved me. Lindy didn’t love me. I think she loved who she wanted me to be. I wasn’t that man. I was me with Rachel, and to Rachel.

  I opened my arms and Rach was in them in a second, her arms clinging about my neck and her sobs ringing against my ear.

  “It’s okay, honey. I took Lindy to the airport that’s all.”

  She pulled away from me, and her reddened pale green eyes faced me. “I thought you’d leave me. I thought you were getting back with her. I saw you walk away with your arm around her.”

  “I walked her to the park to talk things out, but we couldn’t really talk anything out, she was too angry. In the end, she just decided to go back. I’m sorry, I didn’t feel I could bring her up here to tell you where I was going and… God, I wish you had a cell, I could have at least texted you to tell you. Tomorrow, I’m buying you a cell.”

  “Jason––”

  My fingers covered her lips to stop her denial. “I’m buying you one.”

  Her forehead fell onto my shoulder as her hands gripped my leather jacket at my waist, fisting and clinging.

  I stroked her back. “It’s okay, Rach. I know it’s too early to make any promises for the future, but honestly, I don’t want to get back with Lindy, and I want us to keep going and see where this takes us…” But right now, I felt like I’d found my other half, the clichéd yin to my yang. Having seen Lindy again, I felt it even more. Things were so different with Rachel. She just felt right.

  “Come on, let’s go back up.” I turned her to the elevator, with my arm around her.

  Within it she pulled away, and moved to stand opposite me, leaning against the far side.

  Her gaze was questioning. “I feel guilty.”

  “You shouldn’t. I do. I should. I should’ve ended it with her years ago…” but if I’d done that, I might never have been on the bridge the night I met you, Rach. My heart raced and a tight spasm caught like a stitch in my chest.

  “Did she board the plane okay?”

  “I left her at the check-in desk, but I know her flight took off, I looked on my cell, and I called Mom to make sure someone meets her at the other end.”

  “Am I a bitch? I suppose she thinks me a bitch. She thinks I took you from her. But, I couldn’t bear to lose you now…” Her gaze looked back at me. “You’re too good for me, you know. You should be with someone like her, not like me. I’ll let you down, Jason.”

  “You won’t.”

  “I will, and you know I will.”

  The lift bell rang to say we’d reached the fifth floor and then the elevator doors opened.

  I slotted my arm about her as we stepped out. “You won’t, honey.” />
  We made love again in bed; long, slow, beautiful love.

  I adored Rachel, with every blood vessel, every muscle and every bone in my body and I wanted her to know it.

  Sex was so different with her. I hadn’t told her, I thought it disloyal to Lindy to vocalize the comparison. But God, it was different.

  For a start the amount of times Rach and I had done it, in one weekend, I think equated to how many times Lindy and I used to do it in a month, or perhaps two months.

  Lindy frequently didn’t want me to, and we’d never done it twice in one day. She’d have a headache, or been too tired, or… there were numerous excuses she’d crafted for me not to touch her.

  Lindy needed a guy she wanted to be in bed with, and that wasn’t me.

  It wasn’t only the number of times though, it was also the way Rach made love––she moved, she was active, and God, her participation made it a sensual journey not just sex.

  Lindy had hardly ever done more than lie still and let me touch her, and let me, well, that was all it had ever felt like, like she was tolerating me.

  When I thought of it now, it had been awful. And having felt Rach orgasm, I wasn’t sure Lind had ever had one. Faked them, yes. Had them, no. The sounds Lindy made during sex, which I’d assumed to be pleasure, seemed so unreal in comparison, liked she’d been acting pleasure. It was like Lindy had endured sex so she could have what we had outside of a bed. It only convinced me more that Lindy hadn’t really wanted me.

  Rach wanted me.

  ~

  One of the first calls I made on the cell phone Jason got me, was to the Public Health Clinic, to book an appointment to get checked out. I didn’t wanna keep using condoms with him, and I knew he was safe.

  We’d spent just over a week together, as a couple, by the time I went to the appointment.

  It had been the strangest, and probably the best, week of my life.

  I’d started running with him. I’d been surprised he asked me to do it, but he had, and he’d not only asked, he’d urged me to run with him.

  I loved it, though I knew I slowed him down. He didn’t seem to mind.

  We didn’t speak when we ran, just glanced at each other occasionally and smiled, as we both listened to the music playing through our earphones.

  I found it really energizing, running, and it seemed to soak up some of the restless unbound thoughts which skated about inside my head. And I loved that we ran in the dark, across the bridge, when everything was lit up. He had several different routes he ran, but he always ran over the bridge into Manhattan and back again.

  Even on the first night when I’d gotten a stitch and doubled over panting on the other side of Manhattan Bridge, he hadn’t been annoyed that I was stopping him. He was just always so patient and considerate.

  Often when we got back from a run, we’d have sex in the shower or in the bath.

  I loved having sex with him. He was so much gentler when he touched me than the other men I’d known. It felt like he really cared for me. I loved the way he touched me, and I loved the way he moved in me, although that wasn’t always gentle; he knew the moments to be rough. I knew I was quickly and deeply falling in love with him.

  When the day of my clinic appointment came, I was relieved, because it meant that soon, we wouldn’t have the hassle of holding back to remember a condom every time.

  “Miss Shears. The nurse will see you in a moment.”

  I waited, feeling really hopeful. I felt like my life was changing, finally. I felt like I was putting down some proper roots.

  The waiting room was painted white, and a tall plant stood in one corner. A clock on the wall ticked away the seconds.

  “Miss Shears?”

  I stood up and then the nurse waved me forward.

  We went into a private room.

  “You’re here for HIV, Hepatitis B and C, and Chlamydia tests, right, and you want me to take a look for anything else too?”

  “Yeah?”

  “And do you want contraception?”

  Shit, I couldn’t even remember how long my implant had been in. “Yes, please. I suppose so, I’ve got an implant but it’s been in a long time, I––”

  “Your records show you had an implant fitted nearly three and half years ago. That will be out of date. Is that the last one you had?”

  I nodded.

  “When did you have your last period?”

  “I can’t remember. Probably years ago, not since I had the implant I don’t think.”

  “Is there any chance you might be pregnant?”

  “I don’t know, I doubt it, I mean, but––”

  “We’ll need to check then and make sure before you have another implant.”

  “Okay.” I’d just forgotten about that, I’d had the implant so long I never thought about contraception. But I wouldn’t be pregnant. I’d never had a period.

  I let them take all the tests and left. I’d had them done before a couple of times, when I’d been foolish and got scared.

  This time it wasn’t because I was scared, but because I wanted things to be perfect.

  I went in to work afterwards and when Jason picked me up later I burst out the door, rushed into his arms and hugged him.

  I’d worked a late shift so we couldn’t run together. I knew he must have run earlier, on his own.

  It was when I worked the earlier shifts that we ran together afterwards. They were the best nights.

  He kissed my cheek, and then I kissed his lips before letting him go.

  “I was thinking today, at the weekend, on Sunday, why don’t we run right down to Prospect Park, early, and then get breakfast?” he said, smiling.

  “Is this your idea of a date, Jason?” I laughed, thinking of how different it was to my plans the Friday before last.

  He squeezed my hand as we walked along the street. “It is, yeah, but I also thought, in the evening, seeing as you’re working Friday and Saturday evening, we could go to your karaoke bar, after we’ve come back from our run and spent an afternoon in bed.”

  “On a Sunday evening… When you, the lightweight, have work the next day…”

  He laughed. “On a Sunday, and I won’t drink shots, and definitely not shots in a glass of Red Bull, but I shall sing with you, I enjoyed it.”

  “It won’t be so busy on a Sunday. The crowd will hear you singing…” I teased.

  “I won’t be looking at the crowd, just at you. I’m planning songs.”

  Grinning at him, I held his hand tighter. “You’re wonderful and heaven sent, Jason Macinlay.”

  He let go of my hand, and then wrapped his arm about my shoulders, as we walked on. “The feeling’s mutual, Rachel Shears.”

  I wrapped my arm about his waist, and leaned into him.

  I knew that wasn’t true, but I longed to know what he did think of me. The way he acted, it was like my feelings for him were equaled, but it was too early for declarations of love, and what else did a person say to describe a level of emotion.?

  Besides we’d only been together just over a fortnight, he would think me really odd if I started using the word love. And besides that, he was still managing his break-up with Lindy. I knew his mom regularly spoke to him when I was at work, and I knew he was asking how Lindy was. I also knew Lindy had texted him, messaged on Facebook and even rung him a few times.

  It was far too early for me to have any expectations. I had to stop overthinking it all, and just let it be, which was what he was doing––my nice guy. But I couldn’t; there was a ball of longing rolling inside me, building like a giant snowball, getting bigger and bigger, and it wanted to know what he thought.

  ~

  I’d had such a great day on Sunday with Rach; it had made my Monday feel good too. I was still riding on the high of it now, on Tuesday night, as I climbed the stairs to my apartment.

  I’d gone on and on about Rachel to Justin at work. He’d been roasting me all day over the fact I had two women chasing after me––his i
nterpretation, not mine. He knew Lindy was still contacting me. He kept hearing my cell buzzing on the desk when she sent a text or rang. I’d stopped answering. There was nothing new I could say. My answering was only misleading her.

  He’d also heard me answering the cell to Rach a couple of times, whispering into it to try and stop him overhearing.

  The girls who sat at the desks around us had also got drawn into my drama because of Justin’s mocking. I think the jury was out on whether or not I was a bastard for leaving my long-term girlfriend, having met another girl a couple of weeks ago on a bridge. I think they were waiting to see if I was going to be more loyal to Rachel.

  Fortunately my story hadn’t spread too widely. I didn’t even want to know the opinion of the asshole who owned the magazine. He’d called me into his office on Monday, to order coffee for a room full of people, like he was making some point about my position at the magazine, after I stepped out of line and made a suggestion the other week.

  I’d felt three fucking inches tall, standing in front of him while he’d bossed me about. I didn’t get him. I didn’t doubt he’d have some cutting comment to make though if he discovered the details of my personal life.

  I shoved thoughts of work aside and remembered Sunday again.

  Rach had enjoyed the day as well, I knew.

  She was working on a late shift tonight. I was going to meet her at eleven.

  We’d started running at nine on Sunday, and gone all the way to the park then lapped it once before stopping at a café and eating. Then we’d walked around the lake, holding hands and talking, teasing one another.

  I’d enjoyed the karaoke bar again too. We’d sung four songs, to a much smaller crowd, and laughed our way through two of them.

  But the whole day had felt like it was fated. She had become my sanctuary from my issues back home and at work. She was quickly becoming everything; the reason I wanted to get up in the morning, and get home at night.

  Mom kept questioning Rach’s motivation and loyalty, and asked me outright if this was just about sex. I knew that idea had come via Lindy.

  Lindy kept telling me, once she’d got home and calmed down, that if I left New York and came home, she’d forgive me and forget this had ever happened. I wasn’t going back, nor getting back with her, so that’s why I’d just stopped answering my cell to her.