Confusion: (a love story)

by Catherine Curtis

Without breaking my gaze, he replies, “I think she’s brilliant.”

  Nathan takes my place at the whiteboard and explains what I was trying to say in a way that gets the entire room excited. I’m amazed as he expands the idea out, discussing how it can shape our understanding of things I hadn't even considered. He’s excited and passionate and his emotion is contagious. We are all mesmerized, and in the end, we are all left a little breathless.

  As the symposium comes to an end I try to sneak out unnoticed. While Nathan was amazing, I still feel like I spoke out of turn. I seem to be fumbling everything I touch today so I just want to go back to my office and hide. I wonder if there is a way to skip tonight’s reception entirely. But before I make it out, James catches me by the arm.

  “You never told me you were as brilliant as you are beautiful!”

  “Thank you for the attempt James, but in the moment I am so very clearly neither. I just want to go home and climb into a warm bath.”

  “Well we can argue about that some other time, but your bath is going to have to wait. Dr. Sandling wants to meet both you and Nathan in her office.”

  I let out an audible groan. I am sure this is where I will be at the very least reprimanded and at the very worst fired. Nathan, I’m sure, will be praised for rescuing me and saving the symposium. Please let this day end soon.

  I’m standing outside Dr. Sandling's door waiting. She’s in there with Caitlin and from the tone of things, neither of them are happy. Nathan comes up and stands beside me. I can tell that he’s still worked up about before and I think the small bits of conversation that we can hear are making it worse. He starts talking about how frustrated he gets when people don’t actually think for themselves and what a waste of time and money these projects can be when those people are in charge. He continues along these lines and he seems to quickly move past frustration to annoyance and then anger. I am leaning against the wall and just listening. It is fun to hear him think.

  He gets lost in the passion of his argument and places one hand flat against the wall by my shoulder, almost as if to anchor himself and to keep from pacing. He turns and leans in so that they cannot hear him through the door and at that moment it hits me like wall of heat. I am trapped against the wall by his arm with his body hovering over mine and his mouth is only inches away. I am startled by an intense longing. It feels like I am straining every muscle in my body to remain still- to not close the small gap between us. I can feel the heat from his body and the warmth of his breath on my cheek. He smells like vanilla and leather and chocolate and I am struggling not to close my eyes and breathe him in. I feel my pulse racing and a flood of warmth makes my legs feel weak. I am exhilarated and terrified.

  Nathan seems suddenly jarred from his rant and his focus turns entirely to me. He looks alarmed to find himself in this position but I can feel that his body is pleading with him in the same way that my body is pleading with me. His breathing stops for a moment and then I can feel him take in a deep breath, the cool air playing gently on my neck. It truly feels like torture to be so close, to suddenly want him so badly, and to not be able to act. Our eyes remain locked and my body is screaming for him but my mind is starting to panic. I hear the very loud and very clear thought that I need to get away from him; far away from him. I need to never be alone with him and never ever be this close to him again. I am engaged to someone else and this, he, Nathan, is very very dangerous.

  The sounds of movement from Dr. Sandling’s office bring us both back from the edge. By the time Dr. Sandling opens her door; Nathan has moved several feet away and is concentrating hard on a bit of carpet. I am still standing frozen against the wall and I’m quite sure I look pale and shaken. It takes me a moment to muster the confidence to move.

  We move into her office and I’m relieved to sit down. Dr. Sandling begins with me.

  “Isabella, what is going on?”

  My thoughts go back to the lecture hall and I start to apologize. “I’m so sorry Dr. Sandling. I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful. I don’t know what...”

  She quickly interrupts me. “Oh don’t be silly. You were great. We need someone around here to keep us on our toes. I mean right now. What’s going on? You look like your about to faint.”

  “Oh. Um.” I glance quickly at Nathan and he appears to have recovered completely. He’s focused on her and looking utterly calm and composed. “I’m not sure. I haven’t been feeling quite myself.” I decide to seize the moment and try to end the day while I am still ahead. “You know, things are pretty much set for tonight. I was thinking I might just stay home and rest.”

  “Well you do look a little off, but after today’s performance your dance card will be full tonight. Everyone is going to want to talk with you. Why don’t you head home now and lay down for a bit before the reception.” She turns to Nathan who has pulled out his phone and started typing. “I have a few things I would like to talk about with Nathan but he can catch you up at another time. Go home, get some sleep, and I’ll see you tonight.”

  I’m happy to be returning to normal as I exit the stairwell although I am definitely disappointed that my attempt to skip the reception did not work. I have no interest in seeing Nathan in a tux and I clearly need to focus on my relationship with Christopher. Even I can see that dragging Christopher to an event for my work, which he currently resents, and then ignoring him all night while I dance with a bunch of 70 year old professors is not going to be a great way to make a repair.

  I mentally correct myself. It’s not that I have no interest in seeing Nathan in a tux. It’s that I’m worried I will be all too interested in seeing Nathan in a tux. The thought leaves me feeling grim.

  I’m about to exit the building when Eric calls my name from across the lobby. He was waiting at the elevators and it turns out he was waiting for me.

  “Good to see you again ma’am. Nathan texted me and said that you weren’t feeling well and that I should offer to drive you home. He wanted me to clarify that he is no way questioning your excellent driving skills. He just wants to make sure that you are OK.”

  I take a moment to decide. On one hand, I know that I am feeling much better and there is no real reason that I should take a ride. Still, the invitation is a nice gesture. Is this his way of apologizing? Part of me is tempted to use the time to talk with Eric and maybe gather some more information. But I’m supposed to be avoiding, I remind myself, not gathering information.

  Yes, but isn’t it important to be informed about whatever it is your avoiding?

  I thank Eric very much and follow him out to the car.

  The ride home is fairly informative because it turns out that Eric is not a local hire. He is Nathan’s permanent driver/ security and he travels with him wherever he goes. He has worked for Nathan for the past 4 years and says that it is the best job anyone could have. He seems genuinely fond of Nathan and it sounds like he enjoys a fair amount of travel. By the time he drops me off it is clear to me that there is much more to Nathan than I realized. I make a mental note to do a little more research before tonight.

  I fully intend to do just that, google Dr. Nathan Graham, but instead I actually do what I was sent home to do. The plan is to just lie on my bed for a moment, but I wake up an hour later with Christopher sitting on the edge of the bed and playing with my hair. It is kind and gentle and I’m reminded of just how good this man is. From the first day he has been thoughtful and caring. He stood out immediately to me, not just because he is stunning, but because he is permanently calm and in control. I’ll occasionally joke with him that he must have been born at the age of 40. It is this quality, the stability, that attracted me to him but has turned so clearly into an obstacle. I thought that we balanced each other out and that he loved me for my quirkiness and playfulness. But lately I think he just wants me to settle down and be serious. I think he is starting to realize that what he thought was just me being young or in college is actually me just being me. I love to play and to find the humor and joy in l
ife. I can take things seriously, but it’s equally important to me to not take myself too seriously.

  And then there’s work. I love my work. It brings me joy. I’m starting to realize that I may not have made that clear. As I lay here and watch his deep blue eyes, I know that we are both wondering if it is possible or sustainable for me to become the woman he would really like me to be. If not, can he accept me the way I am?

  “Christopher, we need to talk.”

  “Yes, but right now we need to get ready. We need to leave in an hour and you haven’t even showered.” He stands and begins loosening his tie to change.

  I take his hand and pull him back down. “No Christopher, we really need to talk. It feels like things are spinning out of control. I’m hurt and confused but if I’m overreacting about what you said last night then I need to know. I’m miserable. Can’t we just figure this out now so I don’t have to keep wondering where we stand?”

  He looks at me and all I can see is sadness. He runs his hand down my cheek and frowns. “You feel really warm. You OK?”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “I’m not, you really do.” He takes a deep breath and sighs. He leans in and kisses me on the forehead and whispers, “Let’s just make it through tonight then we’ll talk. I promise.”

  As we pull up to the hotel I start to get a little excited. These receptions are actually a lot of fun. Everyone uses it as an excuse to get really dressed up and the open bar causes even the most stoic to open up a bit. The food is amazing and there is usually a band that plays for the first half of the night. The DJ starts later and the graduate students and trainees take over the dance floor. It is Dr. Sandling’s reward to everyone for all of their hard work and I look forward to it every year.

  This year I bought a new dress from the local designer. The front is very classic with black velvet draped across my collar bone. The long black silk skirt is slightly fitted and joins the velvet just under my breasts. The back is a little more revealing. The velvet is joined by a thin strip of fabric at the top with a small silk button but the majority of the back is bare. I actually had to think for a while about which underwear to wear so that it didn’t show above the dress line. I bought the dress with the idea that it might be fun to get a little attention but after the day I’ve had today I wish I would have gone a little more understated. I’m wearing my hair up into what I hope is an elegant twist but I always seem to have a few loose stands cascading down.

  Christopher tosses his keys to the valet and then takes my arm as we enter the hotel. It’s only then that I realize that I haven’t warned him for what he’s in for. I try to fit it in before we enter the ballroom.

  “Um, so I haven’t had the chance yet to tell you about my day. It can wait, but I sort of made a fool of myself in front of everyone and Dr. Sandling seems to think that a lot of people are going to want to talk with me tonight. I’ll try to keep things short so you don't have to stay too long.”

  The moment we walk through the door, it becomes clear that Dr. Sandling was right and that I have very little control over how the night is going to progress. My favorite professor in the physics department hurries over to offer me a glass of wine and is excited to talk about today’s symposium. I have just listened to his breathless interpretation of what the changes will mean when the head of the Mathematics department asks me to dance. After, he hands me another glass of wine and we talk until we are interrupted by his colleague Dr. Robertson.

  The evening progresses like this for what seems like several hours. I am passed off from person to person with a constant stream of wine and dancing and my brain is starting to feel foggy from trying to keep up with their ideas and intellectual arguments. I realize that I haven’t had time to eat. Christopher catches my eye and I am relieved to see him coming my way but when he reaches me I can tell that he is not pleased.

  “Have a dance to spare for me?” He asks with an edge in his voice.

  “Of course.” I respond as he sweeps me onto the dance floor. I’ve always appreciated that Christopher is a man who will dance. While many of my friends must plead or at least intoxicate their boyfriends, Christopher is always a willing partner. We’ve known each other long enough that we make a pretty good team, although I sometimes miss his cues and find myself tripping to catch his lead. Tonight, however, he seems more firm. We dance for a moment before he starts to talk. I can tell that he has had more than a few glasses of wine himself.

  “So everyone here keeps telling me how amazing you are and how fantastic today was... I keep smiling and nodding because I don’t want to admit that I have no idea what they are talking about. That you haven’t bothered to tell your fiancé.”

  I try to interrupt to say I’m sorry, but he keeps going.

  “Every man and woman in the room is waiting for their chance to talk with you. There’s part of me that is really proud of you, but it has made things pretty clear.”

  I try to look into his eyes to see what’s coming but he won’t even look at me.

  “Isabella, you’re not going to give this up for me. Even if you did, you would resent me for it forever. I just don’t understand. What did you think would happen? Was I supposed to move my company? Were we supposed to live apart? How did you think this would work? Why are you with me? You don’t want the same life that I do.”

  “Christopher I love you, and respect you, and think you are amazing,” I plead. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I wasn’t. I don’t know how to make it work, but we can figure it out. We just have to work on it.”

  “But that’s the thing, Isabella. It shouldn’t be this much work. Not now. Marriages are a lot of work, marriages are hard. If we’re already working this hard and we’re not even married, we are doomed to fail.... And I’m just not willing to fail.”

  We stop in the middle of the dance floor and he finally looks at me. It feels like he is waiting for me to say something so I open my mouth to speak but I’m in too much shock to think. Instead, he leans over and kisses me gently on the forehead, lets go of me, and walks away.

  I just stand here, mouth open, while the dancers continue on around me. I’m trying to make my foggy brain process what just happened. That felt very final. Was that final? What was he saying exactly because it sort of sounded like he was saying good bye. This can’t really be happening, I must be exhausted and confused. It’s just me. I’ve been confused all day.

  As if on cue, Nathan appears behind me and asks if I am OK.

  “No.” I reply honestly, trying to hold back tears.

  He circles around to face me.

  “Would you like me to find Christopher, he looked like was leaving.”

  “No.”

  “Do you want to leave or maybe go sit down for a minute?”

  “No.”

  He hesitates for a second and I can see him trying to figure out what to do about my situation. Still, it surprises me when he takes my hand and places his other firmly on the small of my back. We both inhale sharply as he pulls me close and then we join the flow of dancers around us. I look up and meet his gaze. I can only imagine how awful I look, disoriented, in shock, on the edge of tears.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  I’m really not trying to be difficult; I hope he can see that. I can see that in the last rotation around the dance floor he has worked us to the outside of the floor near the tables. I’m wondering if his plan was simply to get me off the dance floor without making a scene. If so, he’s done so beautifully.

  “Want me to leave you alone?”

  This time the “No” comes out a little too urgently. A fleeting smile crosses his lips.

  After another minute the song transitions into something much slower. The shock I have been feeling melts into exhaustion and I’m mad at myself for making it this far into the night with no food but copious amounts of wine. I lower my head onto Nathan’s shoulder and breathe him in. He lowers his head and I can feel h
is breath hot on the back of my neck. He interrupts the hypnotic state I am falling into.

  “Your eyes are blue.” He says softly.

  “What?” I ask. I’m a little confused by the statement.

  “Your eyes, they’re blue. This morning they looked grey but tonight they are obviously a deep blue.”

  “Oh. Yes. They’re blue. They play tricks on people. Grey, blue, even green. It depends on what I am wearing. But they’re blue. True blue.” I appreciate that he’s broken the silence, and that he seems to be trying to talk about something light.

  “And you’re a good dancer, Nathan.” I try to respond in kind. It’s also absolutely true. There is no missing his cues, or rather, there’s no need to try to follow his cues. It just feels like I’m floating along in his arms. My body just responds to his movement. It’s natural and free and the best I have felt all day.

  “Thank you, Isabella. With you, it’s easy.”

  His words land heavily and bring back some of the sting of my conversation with Christopher. The song is coming to an end and I know that I should extract myself from Nathan’s arms and focus on figuring out my real relationship. He seems to predict this and we come to the stop on the edge of the dance floor. I whisper thank you, let go of him, and turn to leave. As I do, my ears start to ring and my vision begins to close in one me. I feel like I’m falling.

  I’m getting flashes of consciousness. I see people gathered around me. They are talking to me but all I can hear is the ringing.

  I realize Nathan is holding me and I’m on the ground. Dr. Sandling looks worried. I try to talk but everything fades.

  I feel Nathan carrying me outside the ballroom. Eric is there and he ushers us into the empty coatroom.

  I’m on a couch and Eric is leaning over me. He seems to be checking my pulse and temperature. Nathan and Dr. Sandling are talking by the door. The ringing in my ears is starting to fade.

  I’m awake. Dr. Sandling is gone and Eric and Nathan are standing by the door. They both seem to dive for me as I try to sit up.