Unforgivable Sin

by Isabel Lucero

  Her eyes move to look over my shoulder. “Cab’s here.”

  I nod, and in a swift movement, she leans over the console, puts her hand on my face, and kisses me on the cheek, near the corner of my mouth. She runs her thumb across my jawline before giving me another woeful smile. “I miss you.”

  Before I can say anything, she grabs her bag and exits the car. I watch her walk around the front of it, and then climb into the yellow cab waiting for her a few spots away.

  Deciding to just not think about what happened, I quickly put the vehicle in reverse, and speed back to my house. I breathe a sigh of relief when I realize that I didn’t leave Emilie here waiting on me. I pull into the driveway, and this time, decide to go ahead and park the car in the garage. I make my way to the door that leads into the large laundry room inside my house. As soon as I get in, I jog up the few stairs that lead to the kitchen, and then race into the guest bathroom to look in the mirror. I make sure there are no lipstick marks on my face or any other girly shit that she may have transferred to my body. No glitter. No makeup. Good.

  I check my phone. Emilie should be here any minute. I pull some bread and cold cuts out and make a couple sub sandwiches, pour some chips in a bowl, then walk to the front room and look out the huge arch window. Emilie pulls up in her red Volkswagen Jetta, and I see her flip the mirror in her car down and check her hair and makeup. I move away from the window before she catches me watching her. A minute later the doorbell rings, and I move across the living room to open the door.

  “Hey,” I say with a smile.

  “Hey,” she repeats with her own small smile.

  “Come on in. I have some sandwiches if you’re hungry,” I state, pulling the door open wider and allowing her in.

  This isn’t the first time she’s been to my house, but it’s the first time she’s been inside. I notice her looking around the room, taking everything in.

  “Yeah, I am hungry. Thanks.”

  I walk through the small entry way, up the four stairs and across the platform that leads to the kitchen. I decide eating at the smaller table in the kitchen is better than taking her to the long dining room table in the other room.

  After I pull the plates out of the fridge, I place them on the table and pull the cling wrap off.

  “Drink?” I ask.

  “Uh. Water’s fine.”

  I grab two bottles of water and sit next to her at the table.

  “Thanks for coming over,” I say with a smile.

  “Thanks for inviting me. What’s up? You said you needed to talk.”

  She certainly didn’t take any time getting to business, but I’m not surprised. Emilie is a no-nonsense kind of girl. I’m suddenly more nervous to have this talk considering Carla was just here. She kind of threw me for a loop.

  “Yeah, well, I just wanted to talk to you about… well, us.”

  “Us?” Emilie asks before taking a bite of her sandwich.

  “Yeah. We’ve been friends for a little while, and if I’m not mistaken, there’s something between us.”

  I pause and gauge her reaction. Her eyes go wide briefly while she finishes chewing her food. After wiping her mouth, she speaks up.

  “You’re not mistaken.”

  I smile. “Good.”

  “But,” she starts.

  “But what?” I ask.

  “Your job. That’s what,” she says matter-of-factly.

  “Right. My job.”

  “It’s kind of a problem,” she says with a small shrug, then takes another bite.

  A smile tugs at my lips. “I can understand that.”

  She puts her food down and turns to face me. “I’m not okay with it, Troy, and I don’t think I ever will be. I really like you, but when I’m in a relationship with someone, I want it to be only between the two of us.”

  I nod. “I understand. I appreciate your honesty, and that’s why I’m going to be honest with you now. Since I started being an escort, I never thought about quitting. Ever. I’m only realizing now that maybe I’ve done it so long knowing that it would keep women from wanting a relationship with me. Since my break up with my ex, I’ve never longed for a relationship. I didn’t want to put myself in a position to fall in love, trust someone who isn’t trustworthy, and then get fucked over again.”

  She gives me a small nod, waiting for me to go on.

  “I have trust issues, Emilie. No woman wants a man who has trust issues.”

  “Why do I feel like you’re trying to give me reasons to stay away from you?” she asks.

  “I’m giving you the honest truth.”

  “Are you telling me that you’re never going to quit?”

  I take a deep breath and huff it out. “I know I can quit and be okay financially.”

  “That’s not answering my question.”

  “Emilie, if you and I get together, I’m not promising that I’m going to be some perfect boyfriend. I’m trying to warn you. I don’t trust anyone.”

  I hope she gets what I’m trying to say without me having to say it, because then it would sound harsh.

  “Are you saying that you won’t trust me?” she asks, unruffled.

  I don’t say anything, but I think that says it all.

  “I see,” she responds. “Are you over your ex?”

  My head snaps up and my eyes meet hers. “What?”

  “Are you over your…”

  “Yeah, I heard you,” I say, cutting her off. “I just wanted to make sure I heard right. Are you asking if I’m over the woman who I was engaged to, who fucked my cousin in my own bed? Yes. Of course I am!”

  “Then why are you allowing her and what she did to you dictate your relationships?”

  I open my mouth to respond, but she lifts her hand in the air.

  “I’m just saying, if you’re over her, then leave her and your relationship with her in the past. Don’t punish me or any other woman for what she did to you. I’m not her, Troy. I didn’t cheat on you when I promised to marry you. I didn’t break your heart when I promised not to. You haven’t given me the chance to promise you anything. I haven’t had the opportunity to prove to you that you can trust me. I understand that people earn trust, but you’re not allowing me to show you that you can. When you’re ready to move forward, and done living in the past, then let me know.”

  She stands up, giving me a chaste kiss on my temple before walking out.

  Living in the past? Is that what I’m doing?

  Once I get home from Troy’s house, I drop to my couch and pull the handle that pops the leg rest up. I call Adrienne, knowing she’ll listen to me whine and complain.

  “Hey Em, what’s up?” she answers.

  “Hey,” I say pathetically.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks, concern filling her voice.

  “Nothing. I’m fine. Just got back from Troy’s.”

  “Oh. What happened?”

  I sigh. “Nothing.”

  “And now the truth?”

  I almost smile. Adrienne always knows when I’m full of shit.

  “He basically said he wouldn’t trust me if we got together, because he doesn’t trust anyone, due to his trust issues. He said he knows he can quit his job and be fine financially, but didn’t say if he was actually willing to quit. I asked if he was over his ex, and he pretty much exploded saying of course he is, but I don’t know.”

  “Well, hmm.”

  “Exactly.”

  “What don’t you know? If he’s actually over his ex? I mean, it has been like five years.”

  “I know, but I don’t think he has closure on that relationship. He’s still hurt obviously, and still allows that relationship to determine his lack of relationships now. That bitch fucked him up.”

  I hear Adrienne’s laugh. “Yeah, seems like it.”

  “Ugh, Adrienne. I don’t know what else to do. I told him once he was done living in the past and wanted a relationship, then he could let me know. Was that too much? Maybe he won’t contact me.�
��

  “I think you made the right decision. He isn’t ready yet, Em. You don’t want to force him into a relationship right now. It won’t work out. Let him work his shit out.”

  “You’re right, but he’s gonna take forever, and I don’t wanna wait forever.”

  “So don’t. Date around. If he isn’t quitting his job, then you know what he’s gonna be doing.”

  “Ugh. I know. This sucks. He sucks. Why can’t he just quit his job, then we’d be together, and he can start falling in love with me?”

  Adrienne laughs. “Because you’re right. He’s living in the past. He isn’t allowing himself to move past being broken-hearted. He isn’t letting anybody in. You can’t love someone else when you’re allowing the bitch who broke your heart to continue to hold all the pieces.”

  I let out a sigh. “Yeah. Well, I gotta go. Work is calling my name. Thanks for talking to me.”

  “Of course. Call me later.”

  “Will do. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  I drop the phone on the cushion next to me, and reluctantly I get up and change for work.

  An hour before closing time, I’m up front grabbing a cupcake from the display case, and Chris is cleaning up since there isn’t anybody in here. I hear the bell on the door ding, and look up to see a woman walk in. I recognize her from coming in here a few times before. She never says much, but she’s always nice to the workers, and leaves generous tips.

  “Hey there,” I greet, having to put my cupcake aside for a minute.

  “Hi,” she chirps.

  “What can I get for you, tonight?”

  “I’m not sure. Something hot to drink, and something sweet to eat,” she says with a smile.

  “I’d recommend the cupcakes for something sweet. Are you wanting caffeine?”

  “Yeah, I’m gonna need to stay up tonight. I’ll just take the white mocha.”

  “Great. Coming right up.”

  I quickly make her drink and hand her a cupcake. “Six dollars.”

  She digs into her wallet and pulls out exact change. “Thank you. You don’t mind if I sit in here for a bit do you?”

  “No, of course not.”

  When she sits down and pulls out her iPad, I take the opportunity to scarf down my cupcake.

  “Chris, you can go ahead and go home. Everything is pretty much wrapped up here, and I can finish it before I lock up.”

  “You sure?” he asks.

  “Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Goodnight, Em.”

  “Night.”

  I see the woman watching Chris as he leaves. Once he’s gone, I decide to strike up conversation.

  “Cute, huh?”

  She smiles. “Oops. Was I caught looking?”

  I laugh. “I won’t tell.”

  “He isn’t your boyfriend or anything, is he? I’d be terribly embarrassed.”

  “Oh no!” I bark out a laugh. “He’s not. No worries there.”

  “Oh good.”

  “How’s the weather out there?” I ask. “Still freezing cold?”

  “Yeah and windy,” she replies, making a face.

  “Ugh. I hate the wind.”

  “Me too. Messes up my hair,” she says, pointing at her head. “Which is why it’s up now, and I hate wearing my hair up.”

  I laugh. “I feel ya. I always have to have at least some of it down.”

  She nods but goes back to doing something on her iPad, so I start putting things away, and cleaning up my crumbs. I try not to think about Troy and my disappointing visit to his house earlier, but his face keeps popping into my head.

  A few minutes later I hear the lady get up from her seat. I grab the wash rag, ready to wipe the table down so I can leave. So what it’s a little before closing time? I’m ready to go home.

  “Thank you… is it Em?” she asks, making her way to the door.

  “Huh?” I ask, not really paying attention.

  “Em. I thought that’s what the cute guy called you,” she says with a smile.

  “Oh.” I smile at her. “Yeah. Emilie, Em for short.”

  “Well thank you, Emilie, for the cupcake recommendation. It was delicious.”

  “No problem. I love them.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be back to try out some more.”

  “Sounds good to me! Have a good night. Stay warm!”

  “You too.”

  Once she’s gone, I turn off all the lights, lock up and run through the cold to my car.

  When I get home, I decide to take a nice, long, relaxing bubble bath. After I get out, I throw on some panties and a t-shirt, find my phone, and bring it into my room. My heartbeat picks up slightly when I notice Troy had texted me.

  His message only says, “Call me when you get the chance.” I wonder if I should respond or make him wait. He texted an hour ago, so technically I’ve made him wait already. What would he say though? More of the same? What would I say?

  With a sigh, I plug in my phone, place it on my nightstand, and get in the bed. I’ll talk to him tomorrow. I doubt that within a few hours he’s quit his job and is ready to be in a trusting relationship with me anyway.

  “So did you call him back yet?” Adrienne asks as she sips from her coffee mug.

  “No, but he hasn’t tried getting in touch with me again.”

  I take a bite of a cupcake while Adrienne and I sit in The Coffee House before I have to clock in for work.

  “Ugh. You two are so stubborn,” Adrienne says with a roll of her eyes. “You guys better get your shit together. You both are coming to Jace’s house for Christmas, and don’t even think about trying to get out of it.” She points her finger at me and narrows her eyes.

  “I wouldn’t try to get out of it and you know it. He might, but I won’t.”

  “He won’t either. We’re all going to celebrate together, but it would be nice if you two were together by then,” she says with a hopeful smile. “Or at least on speaking terms.”

  I sigh before licking some frosting off my fingers. “Don’t hold your breath. We’re talking less than two weeks. I don’t think we’ll be together by then. If ever.”

  With a sad expression she asks, “Are you giving up?”

  “I don’t know,” I shrug. “I don’t want to, but I’m not gonna keep playing this game. We talk, we flirt, then we have a conversation about us that goes nowhere, and then repeat the process again. The talking and flirting is fun, but I want more, and if he isn’t ready for more, then what’s the point?”

  “I understand.” She pauses. “But y’all are so good together!” she exclaims. “How can he not see it?”

  I give her a lopsided smile. “Men.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So what’s happening on Christmas?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Well, dinner of course. Dad’s cooking the turkey again, and Jace and I are going to do the rest.”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot Jace is Mr. Chef Boyardee,” I say with a laugh.

  “Yeah, so that means, I’m basically going to be an assistant. Chopping vegetables and stuff like that,” she laughs. “Anyway, so we’re gonna all open presents and watch Christmas movies, and maybe play some games. I don’t know. Just have fun!”

  I watch Adrienne talk about Christmas with a huge smile on her face. She’s basically radiating with love and happiness, and I know it’s all because of Jace. I couldn’t be happier for her, and I really like Jace, too. I can tell he would do anything for her. I mean, he did quit the escort business for her. While he’s never said it that way, we know she was the little push he needed to finally quit. Why couldn’t Troy quit? Was I not that important? I shake the thoughts from my head.

  “That sounds perfect,” I answer. “I’ll be sure to bring over a dish or two and some movies. You know we have to watch the Home Alone movies.”

  “I know, I know. They’re your favorites. I want to watch Scrooged. Jace wants to watch Four Christmases, oh and Bad Santa.”

  �
��What? Those aren’t even classics! We can’t watch movies that were made in the two thousands!”

  “Again, men,” she says with a shake of her head, but a slight smile touches her lips.

  “When are you gonna go ahead and move in with Mr. GLC?”

  Her head snaps up. “What? Move in? You think he wants me to move in?”

  “You guys are always together. If you’re not there, he’s at your place. Might as well save some money on the bills.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know that he wants me to move in with him.”

  “Do you want to move in with him?” I ask.

  I see the corners of her mouth lift before she tries to hide it behind the coffee mug. She mumbles something inaudible while lifting one shoulder.

  “You do!” I exclaim, grabbing the attention of some customers.

  “I don’t know. It’s pretty early for all that. Right? It’s only been like seven months.”

  “It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. All that matters is how you feel! If you guys are all in love, which you are, and happy, which again, you are! Then why not?”

  “We’ll see. I’m not bringing it up! I was the one who said the L word first. I’m definitely not bringing up the moving in thing first. If he wants me there all the time, he’ll have to let me know.”

  “And if you ever get sick of him or need a break, just come to me. Or actually, send him to my house and I’ll go stay over there with you. No need for you to be all alone in that mansion.”

  “Just thinking about me, I see,” she says with a smile.

  “You know it!” I stand up and gather our empty mugs and my cupcake mess. “Guess I better go clock in and make this money.”

  “Maybe you’ll have time to call Troy later?” she asks.

  “Maybe. I’ll let you know.”

  “Okay,” she says, standing up. “Talk to you later.”

  “Definitely.”

  She walks out and I slowly make my way to the back. I’ll call Troy on my first break and see what he has to say.

  I feel my phone vibrating in the pocket of my white, suit pants. Turning my back, I pull it out and read the screen. Emilie’s calling. Fuck! She has terrible timing. I slip it back into my pocket after hitting the ignore button and turning it off.