by Scott, S. L.
She turns to see the remains of the kiss that I gave. Her lips press against the glass on the opposite side of where mine were and that’s when I know for sure. She feels this just as much as I do. It’s real. What we’re sharing is real.
She steps back and waves goodbye, her words muffled through the thick glass, her face smiling, “Go, Dylan. I have work to do.” She laughs and so do I as I back away with a small salute.
“Bye,” I mouth then jog away, feeling on top of the world. I always want to feel this good. While hailing a cab, I grin ear to ear, thinking that things are progressing nicely.
Now, what excuse can I come up with to see her over the weekend? Hmmm….
I FEEL LIKE I’ve taken two steps forward, one step back.
Hours. It’s taking me hours to get to Jules’ front door. I spent the first half of today working even though it’s Saturday to take my mind off her. I made a few calls to my family because I hadn’t checked in with them lately. My mom answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Mom?”
“Dylan, how are you, sweetheart?”
“I’m okay. How are you?”
“Keeping busy. I’m going to the flower show later. I’ll be dragging your father.”
“Bet he’ll love that,” I joke.
She laughs. “He’s a good sport. We might go to lunch afterwards. I’ll let him pick the restaurant to make up for it. So how’s your social life? How’s the Big Apple treating my son?”
“I’ve been working a lot.”
“No fun?” she asks.
“I’ve gone to some art exhibits.”
“There are some nice galleries there. Maybe next time I’m there, we can visit a few.”
“I can take you to Jules’.” I say it before I think twice.
“Jules’ gallery? Are you talking again?”
I pause, careful what I say next. “I ran into her at one of the exhibits.”
“Oh,” she says. “How did that go?”
“Okay.”
“She emailed me a few months ago and said she had—”
I hold the phone tighter to my ear, thinking I just heard her wrong. “Wait, back up. She emailed you?”
“We email every now and again.”
“Since when?”
Now she pauses and I readjust at my desk, anxious for her answer. Then she replies with a lilt to her voice, “We’ve never stopped, Dylan. It’s not much, but every 2 or 3 months one of us will email and the other will reply. I’m sorry. I hope that doesn’t hurt your feelings.”
“No,” I say, still surprised. “I’m glad. I know the breakup was hard on everyone. I’m sorry I let you down.”
“No, honey, it’s not that. I just missed her. People change. You changed and felt the need to move on. I wasn’t judging you for your decision.”
“Mom, I have regrets—technically two. One, when I left Jules, and the other, for not groveling at her feet to take me back. I knew what I did was wrong even that first night. Everything was different.” I remember how odd it was the toothbrush next to mine was bright pink instead of green, red satin sheets, instead of cotton. The woman next to me was Hillary, not Juliette. I threw up three times that night, claiming I had food poisoning.
I didn’t. I had heart poisoning.
My mom sighs, bringing me back to my phone call. She sounds sad. Apparently in the emails, Jules writes in general terms, never giving away too much but enough to keep the connection alive. It makes me wonder why she does it, why she keeps it going? And why did I not know about this until now?
Jules hasn’t mentioned Austin to her and I don’t either. I don’t know what to think of her secrets. Maybe she doesn’t tell her simply because she’s talking to my mom. But if he’s a part of her life, what appears to be a big part, why not tell her?
I think I know why. Jules doesn’t want to destroy my mother’s dreams. She’s kind like that, the daughter my mom always wanted. Maybe, just maybe, Jules holds onto that dream too. When I hang up the phone, I get up and leave.
And here I am. Finally, I’m in front of our old apartment, now just her apartment. I raise my hand three different times to knock, but don’t all three times.
I wait.
I listen.
I can hear that she’s home.
I raise my hand and do it this time. Knock. Knock. Knock.
“One moment,” she calls from behind the wood barrier.
My hands are sweating and I pull at my collar needing more air. This landing is suddenly stifling. The building key still works. I question if the apartment key that resides on my keychain still will. I kept it, but like most things pertaining to our past together, I don’t allow myself to dwell on it too much.
Jules is laughing when the door swings wide open. With her wallet in hand, her smile falls as shock takes over. “Dylan?”
Not the reaction I was hoping for. “Hi,” I reply.
“What are you doing here?” Her tone is harsh, it hurts to hear.
“I wanted to talk to you, to see y—”
She cuts me off. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Sweetheart, is that the food?” My eyes are redirected over her shoulder before she has a chance to pull the door closed enough to block him. “Dylan?” Austin questions from our bedroom, her bedroom now.
My mind races as I look back to my dream girl. I’d failed to notice the man’s button down shirt that drapes over her body, too big for her frame. Austin’s shirt. She didn’t even bother buttoning most of the buttons, just enough to get by to answer the door. Her hair is loose, not styled, messy even. Gorgeous.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
“Dylan?” Austin questions as he approaches. “What are you doing here?”
I’m reeling. I can’t think. My eyes meet Jules’, which show her concern over the situation.
I lie for both of our sakes. “Your office said I could find you here,” I reply, acting nonchalant.
Opening the door wider, he looks at me then to her and says, “You should get dressed.”
She goes without another word, but peeks back twice while walking into the bedroom.
“Come in,” he offers. “I apologize for my appearance. We weren’t expecting company.”
We. He fucking said ‘We.’
I hate him. I hate him for being where I should be right now. My home.
“Something to drink?” He’s not shy standing there in his boxers like he doesn’t give a damn that he’s fucking with my life.
I reply, “Yes,” because I want to prolong my time here as much as possible, not quite sure why I want to torture myself. He goes into the kitchen as I look around the place, catching a glimpse of Jules through the crack of the bedroom door.
“Beer?” he calls from the kitchen.
“Yes, that’s good.”
I stare, not able to take my eyes off of her naked form. It may be just a sliver of a view, a mere peek, but it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. My body tightens… until Austin draws my attention back to him and then I’m instantly soft.
“Here you go,” he says, handing me a bottle. “I’ll go get dressed then we can talk.” He looks at me suspiciously before disappearing into the bedroom, closing the door harder than necessary.
The apartment is cold in contrast to how I remember it when we lived here together. There’s no life, no love living here now. It’s not representative of Juliette at all. Maybe it is of Jules these days though.
“Austin,” her voice catches my attention as she walks into the living room. “I’d like a glass of wine if you don’t mind.”
Excuses to get us alone. I read right through it. Austin nods, acquiescing to her request so easily. I hate him for being so good. Does he have any faults at all?
Through gritted teeth, she whisper-yells at me, “What are you doing here?”
Truth. “I wanted to see you.”
“What are you going to tell Austin?” Her eyebrows are pi
nched together, not seeming to grasp my needs at all.
“I don’t know.”
“You better figure out fast bec—”
“Here you go, Jules.” Austin’s back and hands her a glass of wine. He’s having a beer.
“Thank you,” she says, smiling at him.
I start talking, hoping to find some semblance of an acceptable excuse. My job is on the line as well as my future time with Jules if I don’t. “I found an investment I think you should jump on. A little company out of Los Angeles, unknown, but solid.”
Austin looks relaxed, but interested. “And this couldn’t wait until Monday?”
Jules sits down on the couch as he stands eye-to-eye questioning me.
Feeling like I can pull this off, I continue, “I called your office to see if you wanted to grab a beer. I know you mentioned leaving town soon and wanted to present this opportunity before you leave.”
“Wait. What?” She asks, looking at him. “When are you leaving?”
A knock on the door saves him momentarily. “That’s probably the food,” he says, “I’ll get it.”
Her face falls as she turns to look out the window. With the glass to her lips, she tilts her head back and takes a long drink. As if she needs to explain, she says, “He travels a lot.”
The travel seems to have become an issue between them, an irritation, and a tidbit I pocket for later. She walks to the window and I follow. The prisms, both of them, that I gave her dangle from the top of the sill, catching the light.
I tap them just as she whispers, “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Why?” I ask. I know why, but I need her to say it.
Her glare is answer enough but she follows it up with words anyway. “You’ve crossed a line. I don’t understand why but I can assume—”
“Hey honey,” Austin says, shutting the door behind him. He walks into the kitchen and sets the bag on the counter, then returns. “I’m gonna go down to the pub around the corner and grab a beer with Dylan. Is that alright?”
Now she turns her glare at him. “That’s fine,” she replies though her tone is anything but fine. One last glance at me, then she goes into the kitchen and starts taking the food out of the bag. “I’ll just eat and watch a movie.”
Like a peeping Tom, I watch as he comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and kissing her neck. I should look away, but I don’t, needing the reminder that he’s the enemy.
“You sure?” he asks.
She shrugs out from under his grasp and moves away. “Just go. You know where I’ll be.”
“Don’t be mad.”
She doesn’t respond but I can tell she’s struggling to hold her tongue.
Austin comes back into the living room. “So you got time to grab a beer or two?”
Jules follows him into the living room, wine still in hand, but freshly topped off.
“Yeah, I’ve got time.” This should be interesting.
An evil look is sent my way and I smirk. No matter how much it pisses her off, I need to do this. Jacqueline and her scheme to befriend her comes to mind. Is that what I’m doing? Am I using him to get information on her? Hell yes. There’s no denying it. I gulp down the distaste that’s formed in my mouth and head for the door.
Austin’s using me to get out of an argument over a travel issue, so she can’t be mad at me this time.
“Bye, Jules,” I say, “good to see you again.”
“Yeah, okay.” She turns her back and heads for the kitchen again.
“Bye hon,” Austin adds.
No response. Shit, he’s in trouble.
“Let’s go.” As we walk down the stairs, he says, “She’s pissed. I’m giving her time to cool down.”
“Yeah, she’s very passionate.”
He stops and looks back at me, narrowing his eyes for a second before carrying on. “I hadn’t told her I was leaving in a week. I’ll be gone for another three weeks. Asia.”
“Three weeks, huh?”
“Yeah, I just wish I didn’t have to leave her. We’re kind of at a pivotal stage in our relationship.”
My ears perk up as my intentions sour toward him. “Yeah?”
“Some decisions are going to have to be made.”
I walk at a casual pace beside him feeling everything but casual and absorbing every detail he’s willing to share, so I offer, “We can talk about it over a pitcher. First round’s on me.”
“I’M GONNA HIT the head.”
“I’ve got this round, so go ahead,” I say, watching as Austin weaves through the tall-topped tables of the bar.
The waitress flirts, but doesn’t catch my eye. She’s a dime a dozen. Jules is special. When she returns with beer and ice cold mugs, she also delivers a rank basket of old popcorn. This time she doesn’t flirt, catching on I’m not interested.
“So what’d I miss?” Brandon slams his hand down on the table, causing me to jump.
“Fuck, dude!” I look to my side, pissed.
He’s smirking. “Jules bribed me to come down here and keep an eye on you two.”
“Oh did she now?” I ask, “What’s she so worried about?”
“Try that bullshit somewhere else. You have some major balls coming here with Austin.”
“Well,” I shrug. “He invited me. What could I say?”
“Maybe that you used to fuck his girlfriend or dated her for what, like two years?”
“More than three.”
“Yeah, okay man. Are you gonna tell him?”
“I can’t. We have a working relationship. His account has become one of my top priorities.” Truthfully, I don’t even know if I care about the job anymore. I just want Jules. I’ve started over before. I can do it again with her by my side, under me, on top… I’m in way too deep.
Brandon scans the bar. “Shit. You’re really screwing the pooch here.”
“Can you come up with anymore clichés to use tonight? Big balls, screwing the pooch.”
“I’ll try. Here comes boyfriend number three. You don’t hear that every day.”
I laugh out loud. Fuck, we’re numbered at this point? He’s right though. “This is pretty pathetic.”
“What’s pathetic?” Austin sits down. “Hey Brandon, good to see you. You guys know each other?”
“Yeah,” I say, “we met at the exhibit.” More lies.
Austin nods. “Oh right,” he says, then pauses. “Brandon, you staying?”
“Yep, let me grab a mug from the bar.” Brandon walks away and I glance up at the football scores. Texas vs. Oklahoma—a big game rivalry.
Austin leans in and whispers, “What do you think about Brandon? Jules is really close to him, considers him her best friend. Do you find that weird?”
I lean over. “Let the woman have her friends. It will be better in the long run if she has a life outside of yours.”
Fuck! I just gave him relationship advice on how to hold onto Jules. I’m an idiot.
Agreeing, he says, “I can see that.”
Brandon returns with a glass and three shots. “Down the hatch, men.” I roll my eyes at his abuse of common phrases. We set the empty glasses down. I turn my attention to the large screen hanging over the bar and the blonde bartender who has been keeping her eye on me since I sat down. Brandon announces, “OU has the lead. They have home field advantage.”
“Not for long. Texas can take’em. They have the determination to win,” I say, watching the screen.
“You wanna bet?” he asks.
“I’ll put fifty on Texas.” I look Brandon in the eyes, suddenly feeling like we’re wagering on more than the game.
“Deal.”
“I’m a baseball guy,” Austin interjects.
We both look at him. Loser. Needing to get this conversation back on track, I ask, “So Asia for three weeks, huh?”
“Yeah,” Austin says. “My company had built a strong connection over the last four years, but it’s not a viable source anymore. They’ve change
d leadership and owners and it’s a mess. I need to go and sort shit out before it blows up completely.”
Brandon gives him no reprieve. “And Jules? Didn’t you promise her that you wouldn’t have any more long trips until the New Year?”
Austin drinks his beer, setting it down and wiping away some of the sweat running down the outside of the glass. “Guess she talked to you about it.”
“We’re close,” Brandon replies.
“Apparently.” Austin sounds a little defensive. It’s good to see him shaken up. “But yes, I did promise her that, which is why she’s pissed.” He looks at Brandon and then me, and asks, “Can I ask you something man to man here? I don’t want this getting back to her, but maybe you know where her head’s at on this.”
Brandon nods. He drains the last of his beer as does Austin.
A different waitress sets another round of shots in front of us. “These are compliments of the bartender and myself, gentlemen.” She balances her tray on her hip, hand on Austin’s shoulder. “You guys meeting anyone else here tonight?”
Brandon smiles. “I’m not, Austin’s taken and I’m not sure about him,” he says, pointing at me.
Everyone is still staring at me, waiting.
Finally Austin asks, “You and Jacqueline seem to have a good rapport.”
“Work rapport. That’s it. We’re strictly co-workers.”
The waitress winks at me, sliding her hand across the back of Austin’s shoulders and resting her body against my arm. “So you’re single?”
“Yeah, I am,” I reply, glaring at the table. I hate that answer, more and more with each passing day. It makes me want to bolt, to run to Jules and tell her everything. Confess every sin and then my darkest secrets. But I can’t, so I pick up my shot instead and down it.
Brandon winks and placates her. “Thanks. We’re just going to get back to our sports talk.” She walks away, leaving him with a wink and a smile.
As I take a gulp of beer, Austin doesn’t miss a beat and asks Brandon, “Is Jules a traditional girl? I mean, I’m ready… well, I want her to move in with me—”
The beer lodges itself down the wrong pipe and I choke on it, hacking and coughing. Austin whacks me on the back to help. “Wow,” I manage, my throat raw from the coughing, my heart aching over the reality. “That’s a big step. I thought you hadn’t been together that long.”