by S. Ann Cole
XXI
“I just don’t understand. You don’t look, act, or speak like a lesbo. Forgive me, but I’m still in shock.”
Trudy laughed, wagging her head at my bedazzlement as our feet pounded against the running belt of the treadmills. We were doing our customary early morning workouts, while rekindling our friendship that had been on a two-week break, due to the implacable anger I’d had towards her for keeping her sexuality a secret from me. She’d tried to explain, and I’d yelled and shouted disparaging things and had even slapped her. We’d infuriatingly lied about how much we hated each other and had been malicing for all of fourteen days.
Our ire was now cold dead, and we were friends again. I loved Trudy to pieces, and not having my best friend to yap with had been murdering me. So there we were, back to our old selves as if nothing had happened.
“You really want to rehash that argument, Axia? Just believe it, and shut up about it. I’m gay, okay? Never slept with a man in my life. Never been curious about it, either. And I go barmy for chicks. It’s that simple. I don’t need to have ‘lesbian’ slapped across my forehead. We know our kind. Now, can you just get over it?”
“But I just don —”
“Oh God, Axia. Please. Stop. You’re killing me,” Trudy groaned, cranking up the speed on her treadmill.
“Okay. I’m done being shocked.” I cranked up my treadmill speed, too, and muttered, “Lesbo.“ We both burst out laughing. It was good to have my friend back. Just with a new quirk. “So, are you really gonna throw away two years of relationship with Carla just because she messed up once? I think you’re being unfair. You’re the one who was slutting around.”
Trudy shook her head. “Carla’s more of a nuisance to me now, in all honesty. I’d grown bored with our relationship since we were nine months in. But I’d continued with it anyway, because I knew she loved me a lot, and I didn’t wanna hurt her. This mess-up of hers was the perfect opportunity for me to end it without looking like the bad guy. Sweet.”
“That’s why you’ve been sneaking around with those other girls?”
“Yep.”
“And Tish?”
Trudy’s face hardened, almost looking pained. She cranked the treadmill speed higher and started running faster so she couldn’t talk to me. Was she hurt by what Tish did? Did she have deeper feelings for Tish than the others? I slowed my treadmill to walking pace and leaned over to slow hers also, ignoring her scowl. “Tell me, what’s up with Tish? Are you hurt by what she did?”
“I don’t wanna talk about her,” Trudy snapped bitterly, holding her gaze straight ahead.
My eyes expanded in realization. “Holy shit. You love her, don’t you?”
A long silence stretched between us, before Trudy finally admitted, “Yes. I do. She’s tough, focused, demanding and reminds me a lot of … you.”
“Whoa. Whoa. If this is the part where you start telling me that you have or had a crush on me, then I don’t wanna hear it. Keep that tidbit to yourself. Please.“
Trudy’s lips curved into a chagrined smile, and instead of denying it, she just said, “Okay.”
Awkward. “Um, back to Tish.”
“What’s there to say? Tish was a game-changer for me. I fell for her. Hard. Broke it off with the other girls and was gonna break up with Carla. Then she effed up. End of tale.”
“Trudy, I think you’re being a bit unreasonable. You weren’t Mother Teresa. You were a supreme slut! Or in Love’s words: ‘a beast’. If anyone should be understanding, it should be you.”
Trudy shook her head, her blonde ponytail wagging. “You don’t get it. I wasn’t cheating on Tish with anyone. I was cheating on everyone with Tish. She cheated on me with the same woman I was gonna break up with for her. She shouldn’t have cheated on me, just like I’d never cheated on her.”
As much as I tried, I couldn’t stop myself from howling in laughter. “I’m not even gonna pretend that I understand any of what you just said. ‘Cause none of that makes any damn sense.”
“Good, I’m glad it doesn’t. That way you’ll stop badgering me. Besides, that stalwart new trainer you have is making me rethink my sexuality,” she said, nodding in the direction where the new trainer I’d hired was heading towards us. I knew she was trying to throw me off the topic of Tish, and it worked.
Cody had started working here just a week ago, and I’d be a lying scumbag if I said I hadn’t been stealing glances at him when he wasn’t looking. He was of average height, around six feet, with buzz-cut brown hair and sea-blue eyes. Of course, his athletic body was thoroughly built. He’d quickly become the women’s rewarding treat at the end of their vigorous workouts each day. They showed no shame in staring the poor guy down.
“I know he’s nowhere in comparison to your lover boy, Axia, but you can’t deny that this guy is scrumptious,” Trudy muttered.
“Will you stop contaminating me with your ‘wandering eye’ disease?” I hissed at her as Cody neared us, which made her guffaw.
Cody stopped at my treadmill, wrapping his long fingers around the handle. “Axia, I was won —”
“Miss Blacksille, please,” I corrected.
Cody laughed nervously and ran a hand over his shaved head. “Okay, Miss Blacksille. That girl over there on the pink workout mat, is she yours? She’s doing everything wrong and I want —”
“So what are you saying? That I’m a lousy trainer?”
“No, I —”
“You said she’s doing everything wrong. Which implies that everything I teach my trainees are wrong. You think you’re better then, right?”
Cody ran both hands over his head this time, then narrowed his eyes at me. He was trying to figure out if I was serious or if I was messing with him. Of course I was messing with him. But I’d prefer it if he thought I was serious, so I kept my face impassive.
“No, that’s not what I was saying. I’m just tryna find out if she belongs to any other trainer here so I can try to take her on.” As he said this, he didn’t seem to realize that his eyes had traveled from my face and got stuck on my breasts.
“My face is up here, Muscle Boy,” I said, pointing at my face.
He snapped his gaze back to my face and made another nervous laugh, then continued. “I-I just wanna make sure I’m not, um, stepping on anyone’s toes.” And yep, his eyes drifted down my body again.
“Are we still talking about the girl over there?”
Cody’s eyes flew to mine with a glimmer of hope and he flashed me a shy smile. Cute, he thought I was flirting with him.
I almost rolled my eyes. “Here you’ll most definitely be stepping on somebody’s toe. A toe that’s like a landmine. You don’t even wanna try tiptoeing around that toe — or else you’ll be warranted a lost leg. But her over there?” I pointed to the girl on the pink mat that was pulling on her poor neck as she tried to do sit-ups. “Yeah, she’s free. She just signed up two days ago. So go ahead and knock yourself out.”
Cody frowned, staring at me oddly as if trying to figure me out. Again he ran a hand over his head, muttered a “thanks” and carried himself away on his strong, muscled legs.
“Jeez, Axia. You didn’t have to be such a bitch to him. He obviously likes you. And he’s seriously hot,” Trudy scolded.
“Yeah, he is. But he lacks the balls to call me out on my bitchiness.” I powered off my treadmill and stepped down, grabbing my water bottle from the bottle holder. “You see, guys like him, I can have them eating from the palm of my hand by merely flashing them a smile. I can so easily toy them on my fingers like a yo-yo. They get nervous and intimidated if I’m bitchy. But with my Pretty Boy, there’s none of that bullshit. That sonuvabitch owns me.”
Some four weeks later, Lovello and I swanned through the doors of his work building; I’d promised to escort and ensure that he got on the elevator safely. Uh huh, we were that goony about each other.
With the time being just after noon, the atmosphere was subdued, as everyone was now settling
back into their work spaces after lunch. Lovello and I had boycotted working for the first half of the day to stay at home and roll in the hay. I’d merely laughed and shook my head when I’d gotten a call from Trudy, who gave me the news that the popstar, Netta Williams, had popped up at Coded Solutions to visit Lovello. There’d been no need for me to play the jealous bitch, because my man was in my bed, with me. So there’s no possible way he could have known that the coveting Netta Williams was going to visit. She merely wanted what was mine. Flew all the way from New York for it. But she wasn’t going to get it.
We finally reached the elevator, laughing inanely at how ridiculous we were being, and with Lovello asking me who was going to ensure that I got to work safely, seeing that I was playing the man in ensuring he got to work safely. Just one of our usual leisure days, it was. We were happy.
Loving.
Enjoying each other.
Until the elevator doors opened.
Until. The. Elevator. Doors. Opened …
They slid open, revealing a tall, honey-skinned woman standing on smooth, long legs that went on for miles. Her medium-length, dark brown hair was scissored in an edgy style with highlights of platinum blonde. Her curvy figure did great justice to a cream-colored, square-necked pencil dress, and her feet were covered in a pair of turquoise pumps that I’m pretty sure were more than six inches high. Nice, this woman sure as hell put a lot of effort into her upkeep. She was highly polished, buffed and shined. To the ninth. If she wasn’t so copious in the boob and hips department, I’d have passed her off as a model.
It took me a few moments to realize that time had somehow stopped since the elevator doors opened. The only thing that was moving were my eyes, back and forth between the woman and Lovello as I tried to decipher what was going on. The woman was staring at Lovello with amazement in her eyes, and he was staring back at her with what? Fright? Awe? Adoration?
Some centuries later, after many great kings had reigned and died, after technology got more advanced to flying cars, and Kentucky Fried Chicken became a thing of the past, Lovello finally said, “Nicole…”
The woman, who I’d now discovered, by Lovello’s one word, as his ex, didn’t answer. She merely gazed back at him through glossy eyes as she took slow steps from the elevator.
As she got nearer, I slipped my hand from Lovello’s, and he didn’t seem to care that I did. Then, in one breath, Nicole pounced on Lovello, throwing her arms around his neck and exclaiming, “Oh, Ty! My God, it’s been so long! It’s so good to see you, Ty.”
Ty? Was that short for his middle name Tyler? Well then, jolly, she had her own intimate name for him.
“Um, Nicole, what’re you doing here?” Lovello seemed to have found his voice.
Nicole pulled herself from the hug, smoothing out Lovello’s jacket with her perfectly manicured fingers. “To see you, of course.”
“I can see that. But I mean, here, in SF? Aren’t you supposed to be getting married?”
Nicole took on a woe-is-me expression. “Canceled. It’s a long story.”
Lips folded, I stuffed my hands inside the back pockets of my jeans, thinking I could just leave right now and Lovello wouldn’t even notice. He’d probably even forgotten we’d come in together.
Nicole slid her hand down Lovello’s chest. “Can we go up and talk, or are you busy now?” she purred, cutting her eyes over to me in question.
Well, look at that! I’ve been visible all this time? Who would’ve thought?
Lovello followed her gaze and his eyes widened a fraction as if he were surprised to see me standing there. So he had forgotten we’d come into the building together. He reached for my hand, but I kept it glued in my pocket. Narrowing his eyes at me, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders instead and tugged me closer to him. “Nicole, this is my girlfriend, Axia. Axia, this is Nicole.”
Nicole’s eyes shot to Lovello with a surprised expression, as if not quite understanding the term ‘girlfriend’. She brought her gaze back to me, her light gold irises frosting over as she offered me a tight smile. “Hi.”
With a perfunctory nod of my head, I was just as friendly as her. Turning to Lovello, I told him, “I better get going. Text me what your palate desires for dinner.”
When I turned to leave, however, he pulled me back. “But you haven’t fulfilled your promise of ensuring that I get on the elevator safely, lady.”
Could he not see that I wasn’t in a damn mood to be smiling right now? Not with Miss Polish and Shine freezing me with her envious eyes. “That game has been sent to ruination now, don’t you think? This is quite the day of unexpected visits for you, Pretty Boy.”
Lovello sent his eyes heavenward, but refused to argue. He tilted my chin up and gave me a very inappropriate, tongue-dipping kiss. Was he trying to reassure me? Bringing his lips to my ear, he said, “Told you we should’ve boycotted work for the entire day. Don’t be mad at me, it’s your fault.”
That made me smile, and I grabbed the edges of his jacket and kissed him quite voraciously, whispered my favorite words, “Te amo”, then sauntered away, leaving the long-legged flamingo looking sour-faced.
It’s not that I was jealous of her. There was just something about her spirit that didn’t sit well with me.
Nevertheless, the trust aspect of the relationship between Lovello and me was like a spider’s web fighting to sustain itself against harsh winds. Spiders’ houses were the most fragile of houses, and that’s where our relationship resided at the moment. We therefore needed to strengthen our trust in each other so we could graduate from the weakness and insecurity of a spider’s web to the secure hardness of a turtle’s shell, hopefully.
Therefore, I gave my lover the benefit of the doubt and walked away, leaving him with a woman who, though I hated to admit it, was much too attractive for any sane man to resist.
If I couldn’t trust him with his ex, then maybe what I thought we had wasn’t real. Or worse, maybe he was never mine.
I’d be lying if I said the remainder of my day had been all mellow-jello like a vacation Sunday morning on the beach. It was anything but. What woman, as insanely in love as I was, would be able to maintain peace of mind knowing that her guy was in the company of his oh-so-stunning ex? That her long, smooth legs were probably locked around his waist as he rammed himself into her on his office desk while they both professed how much they missed each other. Heaven knows, I was not okay. Giving the benefit of the doubt wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world to do.
The thing is, he’d mentioned Nicole to me on a few occasions, and from those bits I’d deduced that he either loved her or had profound feelings for her. He’d never actually admitted that he used to be in love with her, but he’d never denied that he was either. That’s what made me so disconcerted. Was he over what he’d felt for her, or was he not? What if she came to reclaim him, would he take her back? There was an inordinate amount of questions swirling around in my head, it was impossible for me to focus on any one thing.
My insecurities, I believe, were on account of the fact that Lovello was yet to enlighten me just what I meant to him in this relationship. Whenever I love someone, I let them know. I never spare words, because everything I do, I do it wholeheartedly, to the extremity. So on a daily basis, I professed my love to him in profusion, but he never once returned the words. Veraciously speaking, it doesn’t bother me that the words aren’t returned, because I know that men are different when it comes on to expressing their emotions. In situations like these, however, it was hard to combat my insecurities, due to the uncertainty of what, truly, I meant to him.
My phone buzzed, hauling me from my brain-slaughtering thoughts. Great, it was my ex this time, Zane. Over the past few weeks, he’d been perplexingly determined for us to get back together. I hadn’t informed him that I was in a relationship, like a real relationship, because I didn’t think I needed to tell him a damn thing other than that the possibility of us getting back together was nil. He wouldn’t beli
eve me if I told him I was in love with someone anyway, because he clings tightly to the notion that I was his and that I’d never love anyone else but him. Cocky sod.
His relentless pressing was beginning to be a bother, and I seldom replied. Like now, when the text message merely rambled on about how much he ‘loved’ and ‘missed’ me, I simply hit ‘delete’.
That night, I ate dinner alone. For some strange reason, Lovello didn’t think it was important to inform me that he would be home five hours late. Not a phone call or text message had I received from him since I’d left him at noon. But I tried to assure my sighing heart that everything was fine. For the past month or so, he worked late on most nights because he’d started the ‘Trudy Green’ project, and this, I was informed, was the birthing stage where excess amount of work needed to be injected. Nonetheless, it had never been a detriment to our relationship, because he’d cared enough to always alert me that he’d be working late, and for how long. In addition, Trudy’s late-night working, too, would verify it all.
I wasn’t mad. Just disappointed.
Things like this needed to occur to remind us that we weren’t married, anyway. There was no bondage between us and neither of us owed an ounce of obligation to the other. We moved in sync much like a married couple, so simple things like a forgotten phone call were exactly what was needed to ring the Reality bell.
As agreed when we left my house that afternoon, I was at his home in his bed — each day, you see, we agreed upon whose house we’d be sleeping at the coming night — but now I was wishing I was at my home instead, rubbing Timo’s ears. What was the point of being at his home if he wasn’t there?
I managed to keep my eyes open, watching wrestling matches on ESPN, until sleep overpowered and claimed me at around 11:30pm.
The next morning when I awoke, I was pleased to find Lovello’s arms wrapped around me as he breathed even, steady breaths on the back of my neck. It felt how it always felt to wake up with him wrapped around me: Right. But I had to get ready for work, so I stealthily peeled myself away from him, showered and made breakfast. As usual, at the time when I was shooting through the door for work, that was the time when his alarm went off.