Confusion: (a love story)

by Catherine Curtis

  “And how are you doing, Isabella? I haven’t seen you much at the lab for the past few days. It’s good to see that you are well enough to play soccer.” Here he goes again, acting so nonchalant and normal. Either he has no idea that his presence is so confusingly maddening or he is trying to mess with me. I look around and half of the girls on the field are making furtive glances in his direction and a few are staring out right. He has to know how beautiful he is.

  “Why thank you Dr. Graham. I’m feeling much better. Have you played soccer much?”

  “A bit.” He says with a smile and actually winks. Who does that? And who knew it could be so sexy?

  The unwelcome thought hits me like a slap in the face and I remember my pledge to stay away from boys. There’s no question, he has to be purposefully messing with me. I finish tying my shoes and stand up, now angry with him and most of the world.

  I take my anger with me on the field and our good hearted game soon turns competitive. I find myself bumping other players a bit more than is necessary and taking chances with the ball. One of the large Irish boys on the other team decides to put me in my place a bit and about halfway through the game I find myself tripped, flying through the air, from a dead run to flat on my stomach on the ground.

  I’m a little stunned and for a moment I don’t move, afraid that when I do something is really going to hurt. But I’m relieved as I roll over and sit up that I just had the breath knocked out of me. I am OK. Nathan stops with a few others to make sure I’m good and he takes my hand to help me up. My entire body stiffens at his touch and I feel like someone has just shot me full of adrenaline. I feel flush and a little off kilter and he tilts his head slightly as I close my eyes to gather myself.

  “It seems my purpose in life lately is to pick you up off the ground. Are you sure you’re OK?” He says softly.

  I open my eyes and he watching me intently with his bright blue eyes. I am lost for a moment in their beauty and then I feel that now familiar confusion wash over me. Is he mocking me? I think he probably is. Why is he being so difficult? I welcome back the anger and realize that I’m still holding his hand. What I don’t really understand is why there is a moment of hurt in his eyes when I take back my hand and reply, “I’m perfectly capable of picking myself up. Thank you.” But even I can hear that I sound like a petulant child.

  In the final moments of the game Nathan makes a break with the ball and heads for our goal. I catch him and try to edge in to take the ball but I misjudge a bit and my foot catches his. Before I know it I find myself falling again toward the earth. Instinct kicks in and I grab for Nathan to steady myself and I can feel him grab my waist, but too late. Now I’ve pulled him off balance and we are both falling and tumbling along the field.

  We come to a stop, tangled together with the majority of his body laying heavily on mine and our faces close. I look again into those deep blue eyes and remember being trapped against the wall on Friday. He’s wearing that same startled look as if he can’t figure out what happened. We are both breathing hard and I can feel my heart pounding from the run and from the shock of once again finding myself so physically aroused by the god lying on top of me.

  Suddenly I realize that it’s not him, it’s me. He’s been nothing but friendly, helpful, and maybe slightly teasing. I’ve been the one who’s acting crazy. He probably doesn’t even realize the effect he’s having on me and he surely wonders why I’m always so cranky. I need to get a grip. To a man like him I am completely inconsequential. Even if I wasn’t sworn off of men it would never happen. I need to treat him like a cousin. Albeit, a very hot cousin who happens to be lying on top of me.

  The whole scene strikes me as ridiculous and I start to giggle. My giggling only emphasizes our closeness as my body starts to rub against his and I can hear him take in a sharp breath. He struggles to extract himself from my tangled legs and sits on the ground beside me as I continue to giggle and laugh until there are tears running down my face. He’s looking at me amused, and I am sure he thinks I have lost my mind.

  “You OK Isabella?” He asks, and for the first time I hear uncertainty in his voice. James arrives and repeats the question so I decide to direct my answer towards him.

  “I think Nathan got tired of picking me up so he decided to knock me down. Not very gentlemanly if you ask me.” I add with a wink towards Nathan. I glance at him long enough to see that he is relieved and amused by my answer.

  “But to answer your question, no I am not OK. In less than a week I have humiliated myself at work, been dumped and abandoned by a perfectly good fiancé, passed out in front of a large crowd, lived through some sort of tropical fever, and the first time I decide to go out into the world I almost get myself killed by two separate men on a soccer field. I am decidedly not OK. I think I need a beer.”

  James looks at me seriously and says, “You had a tropical fever?” And now, all three of us are laughing.

  I drag them to Murphy’s for a beer and introduce them to Liam the bartender. He is a Hanover gem. He knows everyone and everything to do and the three men are quickly chatting about craft beers and local trails for running. I take my beer and find us a table in a quiet corner and attempt to regain my equilibrium. I think this new approach will work. I’ve taken the idea of seeing him as an actual available man off the table and I’m not one to pursue someone else so the fact that Nathan is way out of my league is helpful. I think if I can hang out with him without looking at him for too long and definitely without touching, I should be OK.

  Nathan extracts himself from the conversation and walks slowly towards the table to join me. Before I can catch myself I am watching him closely and appreciating his movement. He is again the beautiful and mysterious man in the airport. Too perfect to be mortal and too sexy to be from around here. I could sit and watch him all night. This is how I like him best, at a distance so I can appreciate him without having to manage with the confusion and physiological flood that comes with proximity.

  I actually let out a small sigh when he joins me at the table and can feel myself blush when he smiles.

  “What I wouldn’t give to know what you’re thinking right now.”

  “Sorry, it’s been a long week. I think I owe you an apology.”

  “Really? I’m not sure why.”

  “Well, I feel like I’ve been sort of short with you. And it seems like there has been a lot of drama. I’m not really a fan of drama and I like it even less when it involves me. I’m sorry if you’ve been pulled into it.”

  His pause is long enough to make me worry. “After everything you have been through this week you are worried about me? Please don’t Isabella. Drama or no drama, it’s been my pleasure getting to know you.”

  I take a moment and a sip of my beer. I’m looking into his eyes and he seems sincere. If so, his answer makes me a little uncomfortable. The words are perfectly reasonable, but the way he says them makes them seem like more. Or maybe it’s just his voice. There’s a sexy undertone that seems to send a vibration through my entire body. I have a feeling he could make anything sound like so much more. There is a woman out there somewhere who is really going to enjoy that.

  The thought makes me a little queasy and I decide to change the subject.

  “Where’s Eric? I thought he was always around?”

  “I gave him the night off. Running in Hanover is not exactly dangerous. Although I am not sure my father would disagree.”

  “Your father?”

  “You really don’t know?” He looks at me a little shocked.

  “Know what?” I shake my head. “If we’re being honest I meant to google you to see why a postdoc has private security, but I’ve been a little distracted. I’ve read your scholarly papers if that makes you feel any better.” I shrug.

  “That’s actually refreshing. I’m usually my father’s son first and myself second. My father is Maxwell Graham. He was an engineer for Lockheed Martin until he left and started his own company. His company specializ
es in weapons systems design and he has been quite successful.”

  “Huh. Your daddy is an arms dealer. Yes, I suppose that would require security.”

  Nathan laughs although he gives me a nervous glance. “Yes, well that security has asked if you are doing OK at least a few times so I’ll make sure to let him know you asked about him. It’s not like him to be curious. I think he may like you.” The last sentence is tinged with irritation.

  “Oh, I’m sure he just wants to report back to my father. Army boys may be all about God and Country, but I’m pretty sure my father has convinced every Marine that it’s God, Country, and Warren Scott’s daughter.”

  “You don’t sound completely happy about that.”

  “I’m not sure any girl would be completely happy about having a platoon of Marines constantly watching and guarding. I spent my teenage years surrounded by 18 year old boys in their physical prime who wouldn’t dare come near me and generally looked at me with a glint of fear in their eyes. Luckily I was more interested in horses than boys so it didn’t bother me too much. Plus there were some upsides. I could always convince a few of them to take me hiking or fishing or to the shooting range. I got to play on the obstacle courses and play with their toys. There probably aren’t many teenage girls who’ve been allowed to drive an AH-1Z.”

  “Not a lot of boyfriends then?”

  “Exactly zero. I took the same Marine to homecoming and my junior and senior proms. He’s currently a commander of Special Forces unit and he happens to be very gay. At least the pictures were nice.” I shrug.

  “So Christopher was your first love?”

  “He was my first boyfriend. The idea of it was romantic: to marry my first boyfriend. But clearly I need more experience.” I feel the sadness of loss creep back in and I take a deep drink of my beer.

  Nathan tilts his head and looks at me questioningly. “What do you mean more experience?”

  “Well, I’ve obviously screwed up somehow. He’s gone. But for the life of me I can’t figure out what I did that was so terrible. I know he didn’t like my friends and he thought I was too silly sometimes. Just this week he seemed to have decided that he didn’t want me to have a career. But even that seemed out of the blue. The past few months I could feel him drifting away from me but I couldn’t tell why. Maybe if I had more experience dating I would understand.”

  “Sometimes all of the experience in the world won’t save us from the treachery of others. Besides, a man who could walk away from you is probably not worth going after.”

  The parallel to my father’s advice makes me smile. “I’ve heard the same from a wise old General recently.” Maybe it’s the beer or the dark corner of the bar but I can’t help but feel comfortable and happy here with Nathan. We are silent for a moment until I feel the warmth and pull of his smile and I struggle to return back to conversation.

  “The treachery of others huh? Is it your turn to be dramatic or are you speaking from experience?”

  He shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “Probably more from experience, but there is nothing too interesting to tell.”

  “Seriously? I just told you my entire dating history. You’re not going to share the source of your wisdom?”

  “To be fair, your entire dating history consists of one person. Mine is a bit more... extensive. But if you must know, I was also recently engaged. I’ve always been careful about getting serious. Most women are more interested in my money than they are me. Sarah seemed like she was actually in love with me. That is, until I stopped by my best friend’s house on the way home from a game and she answered the door in his shirt.” It is his turn to take a long drink of his beer. “So you see, experience doesn’t always save you.”

  By the time he puts down his almost empty pint I am still frozen in shock with my jaw hanging open. I finally snap out of it when he raises an eyebrow and says, “Yes?”

  “Wow.” I manage to stammer. I look at the Roman God across from me and can’t even imagine how a person could cheat on him. It doesn’t make sense. I’ve only danced with him and lay next to him and already I’m sure that if he ever truly held onto me I would never want him to let go. If you had that, how on earth could you ever consider another man?

  “Wow?”

  “Wow... She must be astonishingly stupid.”

  “Well, I’ll admit that I was astonished. But, I think the stupid one was me.” He gives me a grin and adds, “Here’s to being disengaged.” I smile as our glasses clink and we finish off our drinks.

  “I should probably head home.” I sigh. I’m pretty proud of how well I’ve done with Nathan tonight but more beer and more conversation is tempting fate.

  “Yeah, it’s getting late. I’ll just tell James we are leaving and I’ll walk you home.”

  I walk over by the door and am checking my phone when the door opens and a young blond walks in.

  “Isabella? Sorry, we didn’t know you would be here.”

  I look up to see Stephanie. She is in my class and has been interning at Christopher’s company for the past 6 months. I realize then that Christopher is standing behind her. Not quite behind her. I look down and they are holding hands. My mind is slowly and painfully trying to make sense of what is happening and I can feel my face start to flush.

  I feel Nathan’s arm wrap tightly around my waist and half a moment later James throws his arm around my neck. I almost laugh as I see both Stephanie and Christopher’s eyes widen. We all stand there for a moment in silence, but my building anger at seeing them together makes me bold enough to speak. I am so grateful that the first time I see Christopher with another woman I have two beautiful men by my side.

  “James Darling, Nathan My Love, Stephanie, Christopher.” James steps in beautifully and lets them know that we were just leaving while I remind myself to breathe. I worry a little that Nathan will take offense at my endearment but instead he tightens his fingers on my waist and leans in, closes his eyes, and gently kisses me just above my ear. He lingers there for a moment as he inhales the scent of my hair and sends shivers down my entire body as he exhales his warm breath on my ear and neck. The tenderness and intimacy of the moment is not lost on anyone.

  Somewhere in my brain I know that it’s my turn to speak; to agree that we are leaving and get out of there. But Nathan’s little moment has left me flustered. Visibly flustered if James’ curious look tells me anything. “Yes...Um...”

  “So good to meet you, Christopher.” Nathan says and the ice in his voice is chilling. He takes my hand and leads me out the door past a seething Christopher. He doesn’t stop or let go of my hand until we are at the steps to my apartment.

  My heartbeat is racing and my thoughts are racing too. I’m struggling with the idea of taking his hand and pulling him into my apartment. I actually look around to see if James has followed us and he has not. But the doubt begins to take over. What am I thinking? This is crazy. He is the sexiest and most gorgeous man I have ever met and there is no way that his caress back there was real. He feels sorry for me. I should go before I make any more of a fool of myself. I am suddenly embarrassed and ashamed.

  “I’m sorry. And thank you.” I whisper, before running up the stairs and throwing myself into my apartment.

  Chapter 7

  From: Isabella Scott

  To: Elizabeth Sandling

  Re: Today

  Dr. Sandling,

  I think I may have been overly optimistic about being over my flu. I’m going to work from home today rather than contaminate the office. Feel free to call me on my cell if there is anything we need to discuss.

  -Isabella

  At 6:00 I finally give up and decide to get out of bed. I start a pot of coffee and send an e-mail to Dr. Sandling letting her know that I’m not feeling great and that I will be working from home today. We don’t have any meetings so I assume it will be fine. I do actually feel awful. I’m sure part of it is seeing my ex-fiancé (not even a week ex) with his new girlfriend. That sure didn’t ta
ke very long. It’s nice to know I am so quickly replaced.

  That’s not all of it though. I’m also avoiding Nathan. He may be the smartest, nicest, sexiest man on the planet. I wish I could have waited to meet him at another time in the future. A time when my life wasn’t so pathetic and my emotions weren’t so all over the place. He must think I am totally insane. And then, he takes one sniff of my hair and I can barely remain standing. I’m sure he noticed what an impact he had and I am thoroughly humiliated. And to make matters worse, I’ve been having dreams about him all night. I keep waking up in a sweat, flashes of us pressed up against each other, his arms wrapped around my naked body. I don’t think I could look at him today without dying of embarrassment.

  My mental tirade is interrupted by the doorbell. I throw on my robe and reluctantly head toward the door. I am genuinely relieved when I see James on the front steps.

  “Hey Isabella! I thought after last night you might reconsider and take up running.” He looks at me in my robe. “I didn't wake you did I?”

  “No, no. I was up. I’m not going in today. Thought I would get more done here than in the office.” I invite him in and make him a cup of coffee.

  “You OK boss? I saw Nathan walking back to the hotel last night and he said you seemed pretty shaken.”

  “I’m OK. Not great but OK. It was a shock to see Christopher. That’s the first I’ve seen of him since the reception. And Nathan’s little act threw me off a little.” I add sheepishly.

  “I wouldn’t call that an act. There was nothing fake about it. It looked like for him you two were the only people in the room and he was about to take you home and make love to you until morning. If I hadn’t seen him later I would have assumed that was what happened.”