Chocolate

by Mares, Maggie

  Instead I waited until I was about to drive back to the city that evening to text him. “Are you at your apartment? I’ll be there in a few hours,” I wrote.

  “I’m here,” was all he replied.

  A light dusting of snow started to fall while I drove, which made the roads just slippery enough to slow down traffic the whole way. All I wanted to do was to get to Luke’s so that I could get the hell out of my car, but when I finally saw the Chicago skyline lit up in front of me like a beacon, I had the sudden thought that I should just turn off my phone and drive to my apartment instead of his. After his performance last night, I wanted to teach him a lesson about what it felt like to have someone worry about you when you didn’t come home. It only took a minute or two for me to decide against that plan, though. I didn’t want to be a couple that played immature games like that. I also didn’t want to have to resort to using stealth tactics to hide from someone just to prove a point.

  I put my car in park in front of Luke’s building and stared up at his window. The lights were on. I guess he really was there. I took a deep breath, got out of the car, and skated across the icy sidewalk to the lobby. I felt a little anxious as I took the elevator up and walked the five paces to his front door. I didn’t know whether I was about to be greeted by Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde, so another steadying breath was required before I turned the knob to let myself in.

  As soon as I was inside, Luke got up from the couch. The TV was off and it was quiet in the apartment. Had he just been sitting there waiting for me?

  We both stood and stared at each other awkwardly for a couple of seconds. “…Hi,” I finally said.

  “Hi.”

  I took a few steps further in, but I didn’t cross the threshold into the living room. I wanted to maintain some distance between us. I didn’t take my coat or boots off either.

  I’d spent a majority of my drive here trying to figure out exactly what I wanted to say at this moment. In truth, there were about a million things that I wanted to get out, questions that I wanted answered. But in the end I’d decided to keep it simple. “So,” I started. “Things between you and me have been…not great lately.” I waited for him to disagree, but he didn’t. Smart man. “Listen Luke, I’m not going to yell at you or force us to get into some long conversation about feelings and what’s the matter with you and all that. I just want to know one thing: Are you done yet?”

  He looked confused. “Am I what?” he asked.

  “Are you done yet?” I repeated myself. “Are you done with whatever it is that’s been making you hide out in your office or at the studio and ignore my messages and avoid me like I’m some sort of leper that’s invaded your village?”

  “I don’t…I don’t think you’re a leper, Lyssa,” he said.

  “Well, you’ve been acting like you do. And anyway, that doesn’t answer my question. I want to know if you’re done avoiding me yet. I want to know if you’re done pushing me away. If you’re ready to go back to being the person that I’ve been crazy about for the past three months.” I’d realized while I was away from him today that that was all I really cared about. Sure, I wanted to know what had come over him so suddenly and so completely, but when it came down to it, I just wanted Luke back. My Luke. Everything else we could figure out in time.

  He looked away and, even from this distance, I could see the warring emotions going on inside his head. Finally, he turned back to me and said, “I don’t know. I don’t mean to avoid you. Or, maybe I do. I’m not sure. In any event, I’m not trying to hurt you. I don’t want things to be like this between us either, I really don’t. I just…I don’t know how I feel right now.”

  “About…?”

  “About this,” he gestured between us. “About us.”

  That was not the answer that I’d wanted to hear. Suddenly, I felt like my whole world was falling apart. My lungs stopped working and my mouth went dry. I was crushed that this was more than just a bad mood, that he was having doubts about our relationship. About me.

  “Okay then,” I said numbly. I think that most people probably would have asked some follow-up questions after getting smacked with that kind of information. “What happened?” or “what changed?” or maybe just “what the fuck?” all seemed like appropriate inquiries. But I didn’t ask any of them. I didn’t want to hear even one more word about his equivocal feelings toward me. It would have been too painful. I couldn’t live with the memory of him telling me that he wasn’t sure if I was who he wanted burned into my mind. So after a beat, I just said, “I think that I should spend some time at my apartment,” even though that was exactly the opposite of what I wanted to do.

  What I wanted to do was run to him and throw my arms around him. I wanted to inspire him to stop me from leaving. I wanted to make him respond with something like, “No. Don’t go. I’ll get over this. I still want you here.” But I couldn’t. And he didn’t. Instead, all he said was, “Maybe that’s for the best.” They were words that left me feeling hollow and cold.

  I nodded and walked into the bedroom without another word. As if on autopilot, I gathered up everything of mine that had called this place home for the last ten weeks and threw it into a bag. Then I hoisted it onto my shoulder. Somehow, it felt heavier than when I’d brought it. I was standing by the front door again when Luke stepped up and approached me.

  “I’m leaving,” I said to his feet. I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes.

  “Okay.”

  I was desperate for him to say more, but when he didn’t I said, “So I guess I’ll see you.”

  “Yeah.”

  His indifferent responses made my heart hurt. Unable to stand it any longer, I turned, pulled open the door, and retraced the five paces that I’d taken only a few minutes earlier. The elevator arrived quickly and just as I was about to step inside –

  “Lyssa,” Luke said from his doorway. I turned my head toward him. “I’ll call you,” he said.

  I wanted to believe him, but deep down I knew that I’d probably be waiting forever for my phone to ring. So instead of responding, I turned back and crossed the threshold of the elevator. As the metal doors slid closed and carried me back down to earth, a single tear rolled down my cheek.

  Make This Go On Forever

  “Hey Lyssa, it’s Arthur. Listen, do you remember that interview you did with Luke Davies back in the fall? Well, we just found out that he’s giving a concert tonight at the Metro Chicago. The press release we got from his label says that he’s going to be debuting a bunch of songs from his new album that comes out next week. I know it’s last minute, but since you already have the background on him, I’d like you to cover it. Give me a call.”

  It was a Saturday afternoon and I’d just gotten home from the first and last spin class that I would ever take. It was too cold to run outside and I was sick of the treadmill, so I’d decided to try something new. Mistake. Now my legs felt like jelly and I was sure that I’d be walking funny for at least a week.

  I listened to the message on my voicemail again, but I still couldn’t quite process what Arthur was trying to tell me. Luke…concert…what? I hadn’t told anyone at work that I was dating Luke. Not because I wasn’t allowed to or anything. I just tried to make it a habit to keep my personal life personal. Still, it was weird to hear Arthur talk about Luke like he was just some artist who I might not even remember, like he held no emotional significance for me, when in reality the mere mention of his name made my stomach fill with butterflies. Or at least it used to. Now, instead of butterflies, hearing his name made my stomach fill with lead.

  But the part of Arthur’s message that was tripping me up the most was the fact that I was hearing about this concert from him instead of from Luke. Although, maybe it wasn’t really all that surprising. I hadn’t talked to Luke since I’d left his apartment two days ago and I hated that my prediction that he wouldn’t call was right. He and I must have broken some land speed record for relationship inception to demise. The whol
e thing made me feel wretched. I was so sick and tired of looking at my phone every two minutes, hoping to see his name there and then being disappointed when it wasn’t. It was pathetic. And I could already see the writing on the wall for how this little affair was going to conclude. Right now, I was in the denial stage. I was still holding on to hope that Luke would come around. But eventually, I’d get more and more angry with him for not reaching out. I’d tell myself that I’d give anything for him to call. Then I’d get depressed when I realized that I’d officially been dumped. And then finally, many moons from now, I’d accept that Luke Davies was just someone that I once knew.

  You know what? Fuck that, I thought. I’m not going out like that. Right then and there, standing in my kitchen in sweaty workout clothes, I decided that I wasn’t just going to stand idly by while this relationship faded away into oblivion. I was going to fight for it. I was going to tell Luke that I didn’t want it to end, and if he didn’t feel the same way, well, then at least I wouldn’t be left to dwell on it for god only knows how long. I’d have closure and I’d be able to get on with my life. Probably.

  I called Arthur quickly to let him know that I’d be at Luke’s show and then I jumped in the shower. Spin class grime notwithstanding, my personal hygiene habits since I’d been back at my own apartment left something to be desired, so I knew that I needed a clean start.

  Out of the shower and wrapped in my silky robe, I used a hand towel to wipe the condensation from my bathroom mirror. As I looked at my reflection in the damp glass, I decided that I was going to make a real effort getting ready tonight. This was the first time that Luke and I were going to see each other since I’d left his apartment and in the end I figured that it couldn’t hurt to look good while I was trying to convince him to not cut me out of his life forever. I mean, right?

  I began by applying product and combing out my hair so that it would start to dry. Then I turned my attention to my makeup. Primer, base, eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, blush. Each applied with a level precision that I was sure would make any professional makeup artist proud. Next, I flipped on my blow dryer to finish the job that the warm air in my bathroom had already started. I even broke out my seldom-used straightener to give my mane a sleeker, more polished look.

  Okay, now, what to wear, what to wear, what to wear? I thought as I flipped through each article of clothing in my closet. The hangers screeched along the metal pole as I dismissed one option after another. Finally I settled on a black lace long-sleeved top and black leggings. Simple, elegant, classic. Black suede boots that went all the way up to my thighs not only finished the look, but gave it a sexy edge. Because when you’re fighting for your man, you’ve got to bring out the big guns, and thigh-high boots were like the AK-47s of footwear.

  By the time I gave myself one final look in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of my bedroom door, I was feeling quite confident. Who wouldn’t want to be with this? I’m kind of hot, I told myself. I grabbed my big purse so that I could bring my notebook with me – I was working tonight after all – and I was out the door.

  The Metro Chicago wasn’t far from my apartment, but it was freezing outside and I was wearing stilettos so I decided to take a cab. I’d timed my arrival so that I walked in only a few minutes before Luke took the stage. The venue wasn’t huge, and since I hadn’t actually been invited here by Luke, I didn’t want to risk him seeing me before he went on.

  I found an empty space near the back of the crowd just as the lights went down and everyone started to cheer. I was practically shaking with nervous anticipation. Not only was I about to be in the same room with Luke again, but I was about to hear the songs that he’d kept a secret for so many weeks. Every bone in my body was screaming at me that this was going to be a huge moment.

  And then, before I could get myself any more worked up, he was there. Standing under the spotlight with his guitar, looking as perfect as ever. My previously pounding heart began to thunder in my chest. It had been two days since I’d seen him and already I felt like I was having withdrawals. I’d missed him. More than I’d even realized.

  He started out with probably his most famous song from his first record. It was upbeat and happy and it got the crowd warmed up. When it ended, he waited for the applause to die down before he stepped back up to the mic.

  “Thank you very much. And thanks for being here tonight,” he said. “So, I’ve got a new album coming out next week.” He paused while everyone cheered. “Yes, thank you. I’m very excited about it.” He played a few random notes and adjusted his guitar strings while he talked. “I can honestly say that it contains some of the best songs I’ve ever written. Hands down. So I’m going to play a bunch of it here for you tonight. You get a little sneak peek…or sneak listen, I guess.” He paused again. “Lucky you,” he said sexily, and everyone laughed and clapped. “So here we go!”

  He broke into the next song. If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, I wouldn’t have believed it. I…this…this song’s about me! It was. It was about the day we met. About how we’d had a terrible first meeting, about how he’d been nervous to meet me later that night, about how we’d sat and talked in that bar for hours, about how he’d driven me home. And it was good. It was really good. It gave me chills. Holy shit.

  His introduction to the next song was simple. “This one’s about the best night of my life.”

  No way. This one told the story of the night we’d gone to the beach. So, I guess it was about the best night of my life too. As I listened, I could so vividly see us lying there looking up at the stars that I felt like I was right back on the sand. He went straight into the next one, which was about the morning after when we’d woken up together in his bed. There was another one about the night that he’d decided to start writing again. Song after song went on like this. It was our whole relationship in an album. I can’t believe it.

  At one point, I had a flashback to the night at the Tonic Room when I’d said that I didn’t want him to write a song about me. I must have been taking crazy pills. There was no one on earth who wouldn’t want music like this written about them.

  I had tears in my eyes for the whole concert. I was completely floored by what I was hearing. The songs were amazing. Not just because they were about us, but because they were amazing. They were complex and emotional and perfect, each and every one. I couldn’t get over how similar, yet at the same time vastly different they sounded than anything on his last album.

  By the time he left the stage, I was so relieved, I could have wept. When I’d arrived here tonight, I’d been afraid I would find out that Luke had moved on, that he was done with me for good. But now I was sure the opposite was true. There was no way he could write songs like that and be completely over us. I could feel it in my soul that there was still something here.

  I didn’t even wait for the crowd to filter out before I confidently made my way toward the backstage area. I couldn’t wait to see Luke. After hearing what I’d just heard, I wanted to throw myself at him. I wanted to wrap my legs around his waist, wind my arms around his neck, and never let him go.

  A security guard stood between me and the restricted rear of the venue. One flash of my press pass and an assurance that Luke Davies wanted to see me was all it took for him to let me through. That was easy, I thought. I wasn’t exactly a threatening looking figure, but I was still surprised at the lack of resistance I encountered before I was allowed to go wandering around backstage on my own. Oh well.

  There was only one door with a light shining underneath it in the dim corridor. This must be it, I thought before I gently turned the handle. The door swung open to reveal a brightly lit room with well-worn couches and folding chairs scattered throughout. The rest of the band along with a few other people were milling about, chatting amiably. No sign of Luke, though. Then I noticed a little alcove in the far corner. Figuring that was where he was, I walked into the room, offering a silent smile and wave to the faces I knew as I passed by. But the secon
d I rounded the corner, I stopped dead in my tracks, stunned by the traitorous scene I saw playing out before me.

  Seated on a tiny couch were Luke and another girl. With her back to me, I could see that the girl was sitting on her calves, leaning in toward him. Luke’s feet were on the ground, but his chest was angled toward her. With one of her hands twisting her dark hair and the other playing with Luke’s arm that was resting on the back of the sofa, it was obvious that she was flirting with him. And Luke seemed to be laughing and joking right along.

  The air left my lungs. I suddenly felt like I was drowning, floating in the abyss, no longer connected to anything. But only a few seconds passed before the water drained out and I was sucked back down to the ground again. I just stood there, hurt and humiliated. It hadn’t been more than five minutes since he’d been on stage singing about me. I’d been expecting to walk into a warm, passionate reconciliation. Instead I walked into this. I was such a fucking idiot.

  My heartbeat echoed in my ears while my rage bubbled to the surface. “Well fuck you very much Luke Davies,” I said icily. “I guess that settles that.”

  I could see his eyes go wide as he looked up at me. “Lyssa! Wha –”

  “Don’t,” I cut him off. I refused to make a scene in front of the other people here, so I just said, “I’m done,” before I whipped around and stormed out of the room.

  As soon as the backstage door slammed shut behind me, I heard it being wrenched open again.

  “Lyssa!” Luke called. “Lyssa, wait!” But I was not slowing down for anything. Not a chance. Thankfully, I reached the emptying concert hall before he could catch up to me.

  My small stature and lithe frame allowed me to slip through the crowd easily and get lost among the taller people filing out. “Lyssa!” I heard Luke call again. His bad. The shout drew attention to him and instantly I heard a swarm of people surround him in my wake.