Earlier today, Sofie and I weaved through strips of stores and parking lots in search of bargains and must-haves. I bought a pencil skirt and a crop top for Alec’s exhibition and heels that Sofie promptly nicknamed fuck-me-pumps. In fact, she straight out scribbled it on the box right by the cash register, and I was the recipient of dirty looks in the process.
Damn her.
We ironed out the nude painting fiasco, agreeing that she didn’t know Alec and I would get on with each other when she commissioned him, and that perhaps she does assume the worst of me. I acknowledged my shortcomings, too, admitting I still carry some qualms about Alec.
Jason was over when Alec drove me back to the cottage, and I think the guys possibly needed guy time as much as we required girl time, and so we adjourned, separating in the night. I continued my streak of despicable human being by finally remembering to reach out to Ryan. I hinted at my pensive but relaxed state here in Maine, making it gently clear that I intend to holiday with Sofie again in the near future. His tone held evidence that he was not comfortable with my revelation, but it didn’t ripen a pang of self-reproach for me, which is an accomplishment in itself. This trip was overdue, and now that I’ve had a taste, I’m not about to miss out anymore. Of course, the mystery that is Alecsander Vaughn remained unspoken of, and that’s the part drenching me in remorse.
In the art gallery late this afternoon, Jason, Sofie, and I ambled through a small crowd, accepting wine and hors d’oeuvres. My skin was prickly from the cool air temperature in the space, and I went outdoors to find relief from time-to-time. Alec tracked me down every so often, eyeing me, and granting me delicious smiles that exchanged secrets of our own. He fetched me and introduced me to several acquaintances and buyers, and I reeled from the easy handling he had of my hands, waist, and back. There and then we were a couple by most senses of the word, and the weighbridge connecting my body to my heart and mind has dramatically cut down. I’m not obsessing about rights and wrongs or pros and cons like I was. My assessments have waned since our time in the pool, and I feel lighter and more alive than I was. There will always be momentary lapses but I’m a little stronger, more prepared to face them head-on.
I’ve already stored endless images of Alec in my memory, and like him, a bunch of secret, random pictures in my phone. I know I’ll never forget how he looks today, in a dark suit jacket over a t-shirt and blue jeans. His curls are slick and his scruff trimmed. He’s rolled up his hems now, and we’ve stripped off our shoes for a stroll under the sunset on Short Sands Beach. Each time our hands graze, it hurtles us into mindful, agonizing steps on the road to intimacy, and in this seclusion what are the odds of defeating it?
“I regret being obligated to the gallery today,” he says, looking ahead, digging his hands in his pockets.
“Why?” I ask, turning to him. “It looked like it was a success. It’s great that the gallery could plan that for you.”
“Oh, indeed. But that’s hours in our limited time together that I can’t compensate.” He clutches my hand as he lifts it, kissing my knuckles.
I frown sheepishly.
“I do wish I knew what you were thinking, Caroline,” Alec says, gazing at me, the lines in his forehead revealing how much he’s trying to assess me. “I never know if you’re bewildered or excited or scared or regretful.”
“Maybe all of the above,” I reply bravely.
“Sounds like you’ve got quite a situation haven’t you, love.” Alec works up a small grin. “I wish it were easier for you. I honestly do.”
I glance down at my hands. Easier on me would be easier on him, too, knowing where he stands and where we go from here. I’m at the point where I pity, sympathize, and regret Alec’s circumstance more than Ryan’s obliviousness. As if I even needed one, it’s a blinking sign revealing who matters more to me lately.
“I hope you know, Alec, that what we’ve been doing here—what I’ve been doing here isn’t my usual behaviour. I’ve made choices that I hope don’t define me for the rest of my life because as much as they’re hurtful and inconsiderate to someone I care for, it’s not my typical nature to hurt people.”
I swallow.
“I feel like it seems I’m leading you on, but I truly am trying to work it out, and I’m totally disrespecting Ryan. I’m astray, but at the same time I’m seeing things more clearly. Does that make sense to you?” I ask, grasping that we’re not moving anymore. “I’m afraid you’ll regret me.” I breathe out.
He looks awash with fear and ardour, and I stare dumbfounded, my lips desiccating from an arid mouth. We transfer our affection with our eyes, and he leans in, clasping my face between his hands, ready to speak, but I interrupt.
“I don’t want you to regret me,” I whisper, and my eyes sting as the tears stream.
Alec looks utterly stunned.
His thumbs stroke my cheeks, and he bows his head to mine. Faintly, his lips caress my mouth before trailing up to collect the tears. The tip of his tongue licks them, and he kisses their remnants. My eyes close as my lungs overwork. My breathing overpowers the waves, and my body quivers with pleasure.
He hoists me against him, and Alec’s stare is grave. I hike my feet out of the sand and pad them on his. He snakes an arm around me, boosting me closer. I feel like I’m going to expire quickly, a balloon deflating in the wind. Somehow, I force my voice out.
“You can kiss me.” I whimper, expelling ragged breaths. I feel swollen and blossoming, and before I know it, Alec’s moaning in my mouth.
Chapter Twenty-One
When we’re taught the five senses, they’re essentially described as individual elements, but now that I’ve lost them all at once, I realize how connected they really are. My hands are numb and shaky, and my ears ring. My tongue is dry and frozen—my sight blurred, and the power of smell jumpstarts upon picking up Alec’s scent. In short, I’m totally hopeless after our heady kiss on the beach. Logically, all that rousing should stir me more awake, but instead I’m exquisitely depleted. Slowly, Alec and I tread back to the cottage in a half embrace, dizzy and frivolous, and painfully aware that what happens next hangs in the balance.
We dump our shoes on a mat in front of the side door and enter through the kitchen. I’m not sure how calculated Sofie was by visiting Ocean Blue’s tonight, but she’s still not home. Ordinarily, with the house to herself for a few hours, she’d be busy around here with Jason.
“What’s your pleasure, love?” Alec asks, scanning the inside of the fridge. “We’ve got tea, coconut water, wine, and tonic. Gin perhaps?”
“Sure. Thanks,” I say.
“Let’s make something special, shall we?”
I nod.
Alec pulls apart a mint sprig and slices a lime as I fetch tumblers. He pours the Tanqueray, coconut water, and tonic after dropping in some ice and proffers me a glass. We cheer, and it’s not lost on me that we could have mentally toasted to a colossal development in our relationship. Alec’s phone buzzes.
He snatches the mobile from his jacket, verifying the caller’s ID.
“Bloody hell!” he says, running a hand through his hair. A misplaced curl springs forward over his forehead.
“What’s wrong? Who is it?” I ask in mid-sip of gin.
“My sister, Naomi. She’s positively exasperating!” he says. “She knew I had the exhibition today, and what time did she call to ask me about it? Right at the beginning of it,” he reproves. “I’m meeting and greeting, and this one’s ringing me.”
I smile broadly at his peevish bit. It’s a big brother’s amusing attempt to scorn the baby sister, and it’s caused me much mirth. The pretense is discernibly a routine for Alec, offering me further insight and admiration, and I only gain a high opinion of his family.
“Well, you should answer her, now,” I say.
“I already have, love,” he cackles. “They’re all fantastically
supportive back home, but there’s not another soul in the world who doesn’t think before she acts like Naomi. At the most importune time she’ll contact you, and yet she’s blatantly aware you’re busy in that moment. Have you ever met someone like that?” He shakes his head, twirling his glass to disperse the ice.
I place my tumbler on the counter that’s between us.
“Um… hello?” I blink up at him. “Have you not met Sofie?”
He glances at me.
“Fair point,” he says. “We must never make those two meet.”
I laugh, but Naomi’s relentless.
“You better get that,” I direct him.
Alec moans a grievance before addressing his sister.
“Long time no speak, Naomi,” he says, rather clipped, but his demeanour quickly transforms to something charming, caring, and affectionate. He obviously keeps the women in his life abreast with his comings and goings when he’s away, and from time to time he checks on me, inspecting how attentive I am to the conversation, seemingly derailing questions from the other side. They’re interrogating Alec about me, and I’m intrigued and delighted, unearthing some snarky courage.
“Tell Naomi I say hello.” My lips curl in, steering clear of a full-fledged smile.
Alec looks up at me, his eyes ablaze.
“Fine,” he says into the phone. “Yes, I’m with her now. Yes, she did join me, after all, at the gallery. No, to the other thing, and yes, I truly believe so to the last thing. Oh, and she says hello.” There’s a pause. “They say hello back,” he says to me, and a shrill cry follows.
“Let me speak to her!” I hear Naomi’s voice.
I giggle.
“Right then. Time’s up for you, Naomi. Love to all,” he rushes. “I’ll ring in the morn. Cheerio, doll.” He drops the mobile in a wicker fruit basket and points at me. “You’re to be on my side.”
I give him a bitter laugh. “Oh, I don’t think so, mate,” I poke fun. “Haven’t you heard? Girls stick together.”
Alec rubs his chin.
“Yes, because that’s exactly what I need—another girl in my life,” he says, delivering a dazzling smile. “But do you see what I mean about her? Exasperating human being.”
I ready to counter, taking a swig of gin first.
“Oh, please,” I start, “that’s nothing compared to Sofie. Do you know that I’ll be in session on Saturdays with my mother, and she’ll call just prior to group and proceeds to text me during group? It’s not like she doesn’t know where I am every weekend. But then she gets all hypercritical of Ryan when he’s that inconsiderate, and Sofie does it tenfold.”
I blanch. Alec watches me for a few deadly seconds over the rim of his glass.
“Well, the mood certainly shifted quickly.” He offers a crooked smile.
I look away, pinching between my eyes, and it’s hard to get hold of my senses. I flop down on a bar stool by the peninsula.
“I don’t know why I mentioned him. I’m sorry. That slipped out.”
“My bad, sweetheart. You have a life with him, and I must remember I’m merely a limited edition.”
I stare, sad and genuinely unimpressed.
“Is that what you really think?” I ask darkly.
“Look, let’s not do this,” he answers. “I want to spend as much time as I possibly can with you. I’ll take my chances, Caroline. You’re worth it.”
There are several undercurrents in the air, making the night palpably troubling and cheerless. This is not what either of us had in mind, and yet, I’ve managed to haul out the elephant in the room.
“I think we should talk about him,” I say, and Alec looks horrified.
“No, we should not.”
“Why?”
“Look, love. I know he’s there in the back of your mind. I know that. I know he exists, but sometimes I forget he’s real because sometimes we feel real. In fact, that’s most of the time for me, and it’s a dangerous notion. In the long run, I’m bound to be hurt.”
I catapult into rebuttal mode. “Oh, and I’m free and clear? I can be hurt, too.”
“Not by me,” he scoffs.
“And you’re so sure of that?”
“Yes!”
“So you’re not capable of breaking my heart, of going off with one of those laughable gallerinas who were waiting all over you this afternoon? I mean, I don’t know much about the art business besides the obvious, but I’m pretty sure they’re supposed to be coaxing customers and not the artist.”
Alec’s eyes narrow, appraising me.
“And what about all your trips? New York, Boston, Portland, England? Who knows what goes on there? Or, when you’re delivering pieces to charity benefits or to a mental health clinic because you set your eyes on some girl that you came across on the screen of her cousin’s lap top? They’re all prime examples of incidents where you can break my heart.”
“Are you done?” he asks, his eyes burning into me.
“No, actually, I am not.”
Alec waves his hand, granting me to proceed.
“What happens when you need a companion to your events, not to mention that none of these events take place in Montreal?”
“That can be arranged.”
“I’m still talking,” I reprimand.
A corner of his mouth shoots up, amused. “You’re glorious when you’re tenacious,” he says cynically, and the temperature turns hot. Still, I’m not side-tracked.
“You need a free spirit, Alec, one without obligations, but one who’s also completely willing to put your work and your dreams first. Your life is overpowering. It’s too different for the normal folk, and I’m a simpleton. So surely I can be hurt, too, and probably even more than I can hurt you. Let’s not make this only about Ryan. There’s more to consider.”
I pause, expelling a heavy breath. My face burns from the spike of adrenaline. I plucked all the nerve I could muster for this candour. Outspoken sincerity requires an excruciating amount of courage, and I notice that, yet again, I’m trying something new and dangerous when Alec’s with me, even if he is the target of my bluntness.
There’s a short silence, and I don’t think he’s pleased. The gleam in his eyes looks quite peeved, and I inhale sharply, mildly anticipating Alec’s rebuff.
His grave appearance begins to decompress.
“I don’t know if I should be flattered or utterly offended,” he says.
Oh no.
“Your total regard of me is of a selfish womanizer, but on the other hand you’ve been thinking of me—of us. Now as much as that thrills me, sweetheart, for the most part, I’m flattened, thanks very much.”
I shrug. I can’t stand when he’s pensive and depressed, and moreover, I loathe that I’ve instigated his distress.
“I’ve thought about you, too, about us,” he continues. “I could trim down on the distance, Caroline. I’d travel less for you and join you back in Canada often enough. When I’m due back to the motherland, perhaps you could visit me. But if you cannot, then I shall return to you. In that time, we’ll grow together, and at some point your blond, beautiful, stubborn head will decide if I’m worth the effort or not. It’s up to you. It’s always been up to you.”
“You make it sound so easy,” I mutter.
“It is, love. I may just surprise you and be worth your time.”
“I think I’ve proven to you that you already are, Alec.”
He bobs his head. “Indeed. I don’t want to come off greedy because you have been brave for me. You’ve been open for me. You’ve been utterly perfect for me,” he says deeply and honestly, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “But that bloke exists, and the truth of the matter is, you can’t make a decision until you see him again. Ryan needs to be standing right before you if you’re to truly know and understand what’s right for you, or who’s righ
t for you.”
“I’m thinking more and more that I’ve already decided on that.”
“You may think that,” he says, moving towards me, “but you won’t know until he’s right there in front of you.”
I look down to my hands but stare at his long, capable fingers. His palm comes to cover my knee, and if his kneading is intended to relax me, then it defeats the purpose. My body can’t relax when Alec’s so close.
I face him straight on.
“When Ryan is finally in front of me, Alec, I’ll be totally honest. I’ll tell him what he deserves to know, and I’ll risk him hating me, and I’ll risk my repute with all the people he and I have in common. But I will come clean. I will own up. Ryan deserves that.”
“And when you tell him what was wrong with the relationship you may decide to work on making it right. Hence how I get hurt in all of this.”
I huff.
“Alec, you’re not understanding. I think I’m past the point of return here.”
“You think that now…” he endeavours once more.
“No!” I challenge. “I’ve thought so little of him, and when I do, it’s my guilt bringing him up in my mind. I don’t miss Ryan. I don’t even really miss him when we’re home and busy with our ordinary lives. I’m not lost in him,” I say, my voice dropping.
“That may change,” Alec negates yet again.
Honestly, he’s being extremely obtuse, and I’m growing increasingly frustrated “How can I become lost in him when I’m entirely lost in you?” I dispute, and he retreats like I’ve given him a swift kick to the gut, instead.
Oh, he’s merciless. Will this man please understand what I’m saying?
“I may be adrift, Alec, and I may be experiencing seismic shifts in my personality, but everything that’s gone from bad to good, or good to better is all because of you. You piloted me through. Frankly, you’re pretty indispensable, now.”
There is no misunderstanding me at this point. Alec must know what he means to me, as he must know why I’m basically scared senseless about us. He opens his mouth, and I don’t know if it’s to argue or to reach an agreement with me, but I don’t allow a word.
All of These Things Page 19