“I wish I could get inside that head of yours so I can know what you’re thinking,” he says one night as he covers my body with his.
“What?” I ask innocently, compelling my eyes to convey something. Anything.
“Somehow, you look troubled. Like you’re somewhere else.”
“I’m sorry. I’m here. It’s just work and everything else going on. I’m fine.”
FOR NOW, I have to content myself with the sunny skies of Hawaii. When he asked if he could whisk me away to Oahu for a few days, I happily agreed.
“Hey, sexy. I’d move that Kindle out of your lap if I were you. I’m about to attack you and get you all wet,” he teases as he swims towards me in our villa’s private pool.
“Oh no! Anything but my Kindle!” I jibe back as I lay it on the deck chair next to me and hold my arms up to him.
He lifts himself out of the water and playfully splashes me before sidling up between my open legs. “Hmm. You feel so good,” he murmurs as I scoot to the side so he can sit next to me while I continue to lie on my back.
“And you feel so cold,” I counter.
He sits back to reach over to untie my bikini top, exposing me. He lightly brushes me with his fingers and I close my eyes to enjoy the feel of his rough skin against mine. Workers’ hands, my mother used to call them. She said that they showed the true strength and character of a man.
“Chris?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he whispers as he plants tiny kisses on my face.
“I stopped taking the pill a few days ago.” I’m going to make this up to him.
He looks at me uncomprehendingly, scrunching his face to absorb the impact of what I just said.
“If living with a tired, old, and cranky pregnant woman isn’t a big deal to you, I’m willing to try to have a baby.”
“Oh, Jae.” He leans forward to hold my face in his hands. “Really? You’re okay with that?”
“I am. I want to give you what you’ve always wanted. If having a family means that much to you, I want it too.”
He looks pensive, almost uncomfortable, but he quickly snaps out of it and kisses me lovingly, continuing his light touches all over my body. “Let’s start working on that right now,” he whispers as he lifts me up and carries me back to the room.
“SORRY, BABE. CAN we ask them to remove these orchids from here?” I whisper ever so quietly, afraid that the server will hear us. “I don’t want any flowers on the table.” We’re sitting at an elegantly laden table on the beach, surrounded by white lantern torches and the faint sounds of Hawaiian folk music playing in the distance.
“Of course.” He smiles as he raises his hand up slightly to catch the server’s attention. He gives her the vase without saying a word. She takes it away without incident.
“Thank you.” I lean forward to caress his arm across from me. Another server appears to be carefully rolling an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne in it through the soft, uneven sand. “Wow, what’s this? A belated engagement celebration?” I ask, genuinely surprised.
“Well, that and… I have good news!” The look on his face is priceless. I think it’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him. “Do you know why we had to fly here, Jae? I have a final interview with the Warriors tomorrow for the Head Coach position!”
“Oh my God! That’s wonderful! Oh my!” I exclaim, springing up and running into his arms. I kiss him repeatedly. “Oh, Chris! It’s your dream come true! Congratulations, baby!”
“I didn’t want to say anything before things were more firmed up, you know. Remember the last time this happened.” He laughs as we recall those precious memories from long, long ago. He peels the foil cover off the bottle, pops the cork, and fills both our glasses with Cristal.
“To you, Chris,” I say excitedly, raising my glass. “You deserve this more than anyone I know. Congratulations! I am so proud of you, baby.” We clink our glasses together and drink to his success.
“To the future, Jae.” He toasts before pulling me close for a slow and tender kiss.
The events of the following day are a given. Chris secures the position as Head Coach of a highly ranked NCAA basketball team. I will always remember this day as the happiest day of his life. The look in his eyes is one of peace and contentment. He walks taller, prouder, like he’s finally home.
That night, as I look up to the sky to thank God for his blessings on Chris, I finally find what I’m looking for. In the darkness of the night, I see it. Bright and twinkling high up above, the sign that I’ve asked for, the hope that I never had. I see a star. Many moons ago, it was a star that lead a group of travelers through the desert to find humankind’s saving grace. This time, I feel empowered to do what I must.
It is time for everyone to delight in their own bliss. No matter what it takes, no matter how much pain it causes others. Everyone deserves their own shining redemption.
I’M HERE TO tie up loose ends once and for all, as I stand confidently in front of his rented apartment on Telegraph Hill. I hope I have the apartment number right. 608. I hold the white notebook tightly in my arms as I wait for him to answer the door. A striking young woman is standing in front of me, her eyes assessing me as she waits for me to begin my introduction. Her dark brown eyes are a stark contrast to her lighter features.
“I’m sorry. I think I have the wrong apartment,” I say as I start to turn around to walk away.
“No, wait. It’s you.” She steps back, never removing her eyes from mine.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m assuming that you’re here to see my brother? I’m Marissa, Lucas’ sister. You’re Jade.”
“Yes.” I instinctively hug the notebook closer to me with one arm while I extend the other to shake her hand.
“Lucas isn’t here, but would you like to come in for a few minutes? I just brewed a fresh pot of coffee.”
“Sure,” I answer, not quite certain whether or not this will be a friendly visit. She makes a sweeping motion with her arm, asking me to come inside. I am instantly taken aback at the sight of wall-to-wall glass overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge. “What an unbelievable view!” I exclaim as she leads me towards the couch facing an incredible outline of Alcatraz Island. “Wow. This is really terrific,” I say, trying to augment the awkward silence between us.
She moves about the kitchen counter and walks back towards me with a tray filled with two cups of coffee and a plate of sugar cookies.
“Sorry, this is all I have. My brother cleaned out the fridge before he left.”
My heart takes a plunge all the way down to my toes. He left? I feel another panic attack taking over. I try to focus on the pretty young woman sitting next to me.
“You look just like him.”
“Twins often do,” she says with a smile. “Did you know he had a twin sister?”
Of course not. I hardly know anything about him. Case in point. How do you fall in love with someone you know nothing about?
“No, I didn’t.” I pause for a moment and continue. “May I ask where he went? I just wanted to stop by and deliver this back to him.” I bow my head in the direction of my lap to show her the notebook.
She ignores my question purposefully. “What does that mean, Jade? What does delivering that mean to both of you? Was it going to be accompanied by a goodbye? Either way, I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to take it from you.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Your eyes. He told me about your eyes.”
“Marissa? How is he?” I take a sip of my coffee and try not to show my disappointment at his absence.
“How much do you know?”
“Only that he was in rehab for a while. It’s funny, but meeting you here today, makes me realize just how little I know about him. Are you also from Southeast Asia? Is that where you live too?”
“No, I’m actually living in New York. I’m in the fashion business.”
I’m more confused now. I always thought she lived close to her fam
ily. “You haven’t told me how he’s doing. Is he on the way back home?”
“Listen,” she says shortly, “I thought that maybe we could talk for a few minutes about my brother. He’s in a really fragile state at the moment, still dealing with the events that have happened in his life recently. Checking into rehab was a huge step for him. He’s always been so stubborn and self-sufficient, so driven and arrogant. A hotshot, to put it directly. Life has just thrown him a couple of curveballs lately, and he’s been trying to deal with everything on his own.”
“Is your mother a good support system for him? I know she lives in the same area as he does.”
“What exactly did he tell you?”
“That he moved home because your mother is from there.”
“What’s in that notebook, Jade?” she asks, still baffled by my ignorance about the facts of his life.
“I don’t know. I didn’t read it. I read his letter and didn’t see the point of continuing on.”
“Jade. Our mom passed away three years ago. We grew up in Spain with my father. My mother walked out on us when we were very young. Three years ago, Lucas found out that she was in hospice, dying from terminal brain cancer, penniless and alone. He moved there to take care of her until she died. None of us really knew her as much as he did. He got to spend six months with her, and he was really broken up after she was gone.” She pauses, as if she’s trying to decide what to tell me next, and how much to reveal. “After that, he threw himself into building his company. With his success came the excesses of living a fast life.”
Our secrets are the same. Our losses. Our heartaches. Now I know what drew us together. And we both never even knew it.
“I am so sorry. I had no idea. Lucas never told me anything about that. He said that his parents have been married—”
“My father remarried someone much younger than him and they’ve been together for a long time. She’s the only mother I know.”
Joshua was the only father Cia knew. And she craved knowledge about Chris. My heart hurts for both of them. My past and my present.
She takes a deep breath and reaches out to touch my arm. “I know about your husband and daughter, and I am very sorry for that too.”
“Thank you,” I answer, immensely touched by her concern.
“So anyway, that might explain his aversion to opening up as of late. He’s just been dealing with so much pain, so much rejection. And when he met you, he was in the middle of ironing himself out. Of course, I’m not going to excuse his being an ass because that’s just the way he is,” she says and laughs lightly, with the ease of teasing a sibling even when they aren’t around. “He’s got such a good heart, that brother of mine, except that he hides behind this solid, blank wall to avoid getting hurt all over again.”
I don’t say anything. I listen to her words and take it all in. She leaves me with my thoughts for a while and then hones in with a zinger.
“Do you love him, Jade?”
“I’m… I’m engaged to be married to someone else.”
“Do you love him?” she repeats.
“No. I don’t. How can I love someone I hardly know?”
“He loves you.”
He told her that he loves me? “He doesn’t. It’s a game we play with each other. Maybe a strong attraction. But it will never work.”
She shrugs her shoulders as if she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying. Slowly, she lifts herself off the couch and reaches out to take my hand in hers. “Come on, I want to show you something.” We walk down a short hallway to what I conclude is his bedroom. The gray and black color scheme is tastefully offset by an all-glass decor, a large velvet-buttoned headboard and masculine gray cashmere drapes. My eyes come in direct contact with a black and white canvas photo reproduction of a woman with flowing hair and striking, luminous eyes. It’s a portrait taken from the clear reflection of a glass window; the woman’s eyes are staring straight out, her head slightly tilted as she rests her chin on her knees while she sits on the floor with her arms wrapped tightly around them. She looks childlike and vulnerable, but her eyes are strong and piercing. It was the first night he came into my office. The night that had started it all. It was the night he stole my heart.
The woman in that picture is me.
“He told me that if I wanted to get to know who you were, all I had to do was to look at this picture. That the woman he fell in love with was strong and breakable at the same time. That she needed to be set free and yet he felt the need to protect her at all times. That she was a contradiction in every sense of the word.”
I furiously shake my head, disbelieving her words and abashed by the truth spoken by this picture. He never showed me how he felt; I always thought it was a one way street with the two of us. And here we are once again. At first it was too much, too soon. Now it’s too little, too late. That’s the story of my life.
And now it’s time to know his.
AND SO, CLOAKED in the hush of a warm California night, under a bright moon and a starless sky, I bask in the words that he had written from his heart. I can almost hear his voice; I try to imagine his face. I focus my eyes on the lines of the paper and can’t help but smile at the way his handwriting clumps tightly to the right. “Wow. You’re a lefty too,” he once said. “No wonder you’re so smart.”
I read his words over and over again.
She’s forty-two years old? How can that be? The woman who sat across from me at this swanky Italian restaurant told me how old she was. I feel the need to dwell on it, but I didn’t want to embarrass her any further. Besides, I felt Taylor watching me as if he sensed my immediate reaction to her when I met her this morning. She is by far the most alluring woman I have ever met. Her shoulder length reddish brown hair framing her perfect face. Smooth skin, striking green eyes, a perfectly sculpted nose and fine pursed lips. She’s one of those women who desperately tries to hide her sensuality despite oozing it. Her tiny frame is accentuated by long, lean legs. She dresses in a suit but her blouse can’t help but expose her deep cleavage because of the size of her breasts. Her mannerisms are classy, her giggle is childlike. She was just promoted as the first woman Executive Vice President of a large consulting company. Her words denote intelligence and practicality. Even her fingers are long and elegant, like the rest of her. It’s going to be tough staying away from this woman for two weeks, but I’m a businessman first and foremost and nothing is going to keep me from facilitating this deal of a lifetime.
The goddamn flight back to Asia is fourteen hours. I’m exhausted from the two week stay in Chicago, over served, and in desperate need of sleep. Somehow, the drinks aren’t working their magic on me tonight. I can’t stop thinking about her.
“One more scotch on the rocks, please,” I say to the stewardess as she walks down the aisle carrying a tray of nuts.
I constantly shift in my seat, trying my best not to react to the thoughts that are taking over my head. In my hand is the pen I so slyly hid in my pocket as I left her office last night My memento of the most erotic experience I have ever had. Her lidded eyes, the slight parting of her lips, the way she arched her body upwards to take what I was giving her. Her moans. Christ.
She’s fucking forty-two years old when she looks like she’s twenty-five.
Her eyes left a haunting impression on me. They remind me of the bottomless sea, calm on the surface but with a tumultuous current that increases with depth.
She’s not lost, just sad.
Isabel was lost. Her husband had pulled the plug on their marriage and she didn’t know where to go.
Cristina wasn’t lost, I just didn’t love her enough to want to find myself.
Jade knows what she wants. That is something that is so attractive to me. I’m done with whiny thirtysomethings who don’t know which side is up. Jade goes for what she wants and gets it. I know because I’ve met the assholes she works with and promoting her into their inner circle must have taken a hundred board meetings and numerous arguments
. She deserves every single thing she has. I hardly know her, but I can already tell. What I can also tell is that her success means nothing to her. It doesn’t fulfill those sad eyes of hers, that’s for damn sure. Maybe it even serves as a detriment to her in some way or another. Just like mine.
I was hopelessly attracted to her from the moment we met, so much that I looked forward to our nightly trips to the Pantry. I wanted to prolong those smoke breaks, to get to know her better, but she stayed pretty guarded all throughout our interaction. She finally let herself go the day before I left, when she allowed me to touch her intimately. There was a light in her eyes that was missing before, but as turned on as I still am when I think about it, I feel like I have yet to break the barrier with her.
I watched her interactions with various people, never failing to be impressed by her warmth and her genuine personality. She was professional yet amiable, outspoken yet respectful. And the men in that office. Dammit. Their eyes linger a little bit too long on her, but she doesn’t know it. Or maybe she does and she’s practiced enough to ignore it. Everyone had only wonderful things to say about her—somehow I can tell that they knew about the burdens she carries. I was dying to ask them about her, to find more information about her personal life, but I couldn’t. It’s not easy when you’re trying to put up a front of utmost detachment.
When I called her from the airport and she didn’t answer her phone, I felt like a giddy teenager, determined to hear her voice before boarding the flight. I called her three consecutive times, hoping that she would step out of her meeting to answer my call. When she did, it felt like Christmas. It calmed me down considerably and allowed me the luxury of knowing that our two weeks together meant something. We connected.
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