A Kiss and a Cuddle

by Sloane, Sophie

  “I’m not sure, Derek,” I whispered, and I leaned my head on his chest.

  “You know I will always think of you ultimately,” he whispered back.

  He slowly ran his fingers through my hair, and I closed my eyes. It was nice. I listened to his heartbeat and concentrated on his breath moving in and out. Before long, I was dozing off. I must have been asleep for a while, because when I opened my eyes, I realized that we were now laying down and cuddling on my couch. Derek was laying behind me, and holding me tight in his arms. I didn’t look behind me, but I could tell that he was asleep by his smooth, deep breathing. To be honest, it felt so comforting to be held by such strong, loving arms, that I closed my eyes again and let myself enjoy it.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Buzz buzzzzz. Buzz buzzzzz. I woke up to the startling sound of my cell phone vibrating on my glass living room table. I opened my eyes and tried to orientate myself. Why was I in the living room? And whose arms were around me? I looked out at the table to see two wine glasses. Ah yes, the heartbreak hangover.

  I quietly tried to detangle myself from Derek’s arms to reach for my cell phone. I turned on my screen and saw that I had a text message from Rex. Sent at 2:11AM. I clicked on the message and it read: “I am outside of your building. Please come out and I can explain xxx.”

  Maybe I was drunk, or maybe I was just past the point of caring, but I slowly slithered out of Derek’s arms and off the couch. I looked down at him, and he rolled over, smiled, and continued to sleep. He was as happy as a clam.

  I tiptoed into my bathroom to quickly check if I was presentable. Ugh. My dramatic cat-eyes turned into psychotic clown-eyes, and my hair had a rat’s nest in the back. I quickly wiped the smudged mascara off from under my eyes with a warm facecloth and brushed my hair. Good enough.

  I could hear the wind blowing and the rain pitter-pattering against my window, so I grabbed my rain-jacket before heading out the door to the elevators. As the elevator descended to the ground floor, I thought of what to say to him. Should I give him a piece of my mind? The silent treatment? No matter what, I could not cry in front of him. He didn’t deserve the tears.

  The elevator opened on the ground floor, and I walked through the lobby to the doors. I could see a dark shadow huddled close to the windows. I walked through the doors, and the dark figure turned around to look at me. There Rex was. His eyes were ringed with exhaustion and sadness. The rain dripped down his hair, into his eyes, and off his chin. He was soaked to the bone. He took one last drag on his cigarette and threw it to the wet ground. The red ember quickly turned orange, yellow, and then disappeared.

  “Rose.”

  I looked at him and said nothing. I breathed in the crisp October air that was sweetly moistened by the rain. We stood there silently, listening to the choir of raindrops. It would have been a beautiful moment, if not for the feelings of pain and betrayal hanging over us.

  “Rose,” he said again. “You don’t know how sorry I am. I didn’t realize that you thought you were invited.” His eyes were wide as he scanned my face, trying to read my expression.

  “I am glad I wasn’t invited. I didn’t want to go anyway,” I lied, unconvincingly. I turned my body away from his.

  “I know that you are upset,” he went on and moved closer to me, “but please hear me out. I snuck out of my hotel to explain. I knew that there would be lots of photographers there, so I didn’t want to take you.”

  My heart stung again. Was this his apology? “I didn’t come out here to be insulted,” I spat out and started to walk back into my building.

  “No, I mean that I didn’t want to take you because…” he continued and grabbed my arm. “Because I care about you.”

  His hand stopped me, and I turned around to look at him. “Well, you have a funny way of showing it.”

  “I am profoundly defensive against the paparazzi. Ever since that night with my mother,” he said. “She would still be alive today if it wasn’t for them. I will never stop wondering about what happened that night. Why was there such a large crowd of paparazzi and people but no one was able to protect her? Why was that car driving so fast? The driver doesn’t even know the pain that he has put us through.” I could see that this was difficult for him to talk about, and his eyes were still pleading. “I think about it every day. And when you think about something like that every day, and try to think of an explanation for why it happened, I can’t help but think that it could have been prevented. So now, I can’t help but be protective over the people I care about.”

  “I understand where you are coming from, but do you really think that the photographers posed a threat for me at the dinner tonight? Really?” I questioned him. “And what about the other girl you took with you. Was she not at risk?”

  “The other girl?” He looked genuinely confused.

  “Yes,” I replied coldly. “The other girl that the corsage was for.”

  “Ohhh, you mean Rebecca Barton? No, no, no, you’ve got the wrong end of the stick there. I had to go with Rebecca because she is a friend of the family. It was all worked out for me before I arrived. It wasn’t even my decision.” He lifted his shoulders up and shrugged.

  “A family friend?” I raised my eyebrows. “Do you really think I am going to believe that?”

  “God’s honest truth,” he replied while holding his heart. “My father is friends with the Barton family from Boston, and his daughter lives here in Denver. The father is the Professor of Fine Art Studies at Harvard University, and their family is a good family to know in America, so my father arranged that she was my plus one to this event.” He shrugged again and then added, “I have met her a couple of times throughout my life when our families get together, and I would never think of her romantically.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why you think that she could handle the photographers and I couldn’t. Why would you rather have photos with her in the magazines?”

  “I didn’t want to have pictures of you and me together in the magazines, because I want my family and friends to meet you first.” He stared straight into my eyes. “So they can know the real you, rather reading lies about you in some magazine. The magazines, they don’t have the best manners, you know. You would be some American broad trying to steal the limelight, and I would be stamped as an international player.”

  “Oh.” It was all I could manage to say as his words whizzed around in my brain. I had to admit that he kind of made sense.

  “You are so pure, so beautiful,” he said tenderly. “I don’t want you to be tainted by the media first. I want my family and friends to see the real you. Your sparkling personality, your generous heart, your quirky sense of humor. My dad will absolutely adore you.”

  I looked down at the ground. I didn’t know what to say. I had been so angry and hurt just moments before, and it was difficult for my emotions to do a complete turnaround.

  Rex sighed. “I don’t know what else to say, Rose,” his voice started to get louder. “What else do you want from me?” He lifted his arms up in the air and thrashed them at his side. He was becoming more anxious. More angry. “You know, I try to do everything right. I try to be a good person and put everyone else’s needs before mine. I went to Kenya to start my own charity. I try to spread my happiness around the world.” He was becoming more maniacal by the second, as he paced on the sidewalk and flapped his arms around. “I constantly visit other countries, poor people, sick people, and try to make them happy, but…”

  He was getting angrier as the list continued, so I cut him off. “I know, I know. Everything isn’t all about you, Rex.”

  He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me. I could tell that those words cut him deep. “I was going to say, ‘but who cares about my happiness?’ Obviously, not you.” His voice had completely changed. His tone was cold and distant; his eyes were hurt and hollow.

  “Wait, I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I just wanted you to stop. Please don’t go…”

  My
words fell flat, as he turned and started to walk away from me in the rain. I was left standing there, feeling alone, guilty, and hurt again. I watched his dark figure through the rain until he disappeared out of sight. I stood there for a while in the storm, until it was unclear whether the streaks running down my face were teardrops or raindrops.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  By the time that I woke up in the morning, Derek had already left. When I got in after talking to Rex last night, I went to sleep in my own bed, leaving Derek alone on my couch. In the morning, he didn’t leave a note for me or anything. Great. I assumed that he was upset with me too.

  I rolled over and reached for my phone. There were no new messages. I sighed and felt an empty feeling in my stomach. I now missed the throng of text messages that aggravatingly woke me up for the last few weeks. I tossed my phone next to my pillow in defeat.

  This time, I had messed up. There was nobody to blame but myself, and that was the worst feeling. I had said something insensitive when Rex was opening up to me. I didn’t know what I was thinking. As soon as it came out of my mouth, I wanted to take it back, but the words had already struck him. The way he looked at me last night, it was as though I was tainted to him. I wasn’t sure if he would ever forgive me.

  Last night, I only wanted to make him stop pacing and thrashing his arms around. He was growing angrier with every word he said. It reminded me of his anger towards the photographer earlier in the week. Maybe being with me brought out the worst in him. Maybe what happened last night was for the best. Although I felt empty inside, I knew I had to be mature and allow it to end.

  The relationship would have only caused heartbreak. I mean, I was an aspiring singer in the USA and he was an heir in the UK. How would that ever work? I wasn’t highborn or noble. I didn’t aspire to be hobnob with the aristocrats of England; I thought it was a personal feat if I managed to leave the house with deodorant on and shaved armpits. The relationship was doomed from the start, and it would have ended in tears. I suppose it did already end in tears. It just wasn’t meant to be in our fate, or at least I was trying my best to convince myself that.

  I also was the one who messed up with Derek. I called him over to comfort me at the expense of his own feelings. He must have gotten fed up of the cycle of me reaching out to him and withdrawing from him. Time and time again, I would let him get close, give him hope, and then stomp on his heart. It was probably for the best if I stopped this heartbreaking cycle of friendship too, for Derek’s sake.

  My life suddenly felt deflated. I laid in bed for a bit longer, trying to quiet my mind, when my cell phone interrupted my hollow thoughts with a loud vibration next to my head. I jumped up, excited to see who was calling me. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t a little disappointed that it wasn’t Rex or Derek, but I was happy to see the words “MOM” blinking on my screen along with our picture.

  “Hi, Mom!” I cheerfully greeted her. It was nice to know that no matter what, my mom would always be there for me. She always made everything better.

  “Hi sweet pea,” my mom answered. “I just wanted to check in, since I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

  “Sorry, Mom,” I replied. “I had a couple of distractions over the last few weeks, but now they are gone.”

  “You don’t sound very happy that they are gone. Were these good distractions or bad distractions, honey?”

  “Well, I guess they were bad distractions, in the end,” I replied solemnly.

  “I am glad they are gone then,” she said. My mom always knew when it was best to dig further for details or let it be. This time, she was right to let it be. “So, are you all ready for your gig next week?” she asked, strategically changing the subject. “I can hardly wait to see you perform!”

  “My gig!” I exclaimed. “You are right. That has really snuck up on me, Ma! I have a ton of things to do before my performance. I still need to finish the last song on my album.”

  “You had better hop to it, little one!”

  “Thanks for reminding me, Ma. I am going to start preparing right now. I’ll talk to you soon. Love you!”

  She said goodbye and we hung up. How could I forget that my gig was coming up in a week? It seemed that I put my singing on the backburner for the last month. I never should have let that happen. Singing had always been so therapeutic for me. It was no wonder that I was being overly emotional lately. Everything was building up on top of me, and I didn’t have my outlet. That was about to change. I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror. You live independently, you sing independently, and you produced this album independently. You are doing perfectly fine by yourself. It was time to get back to the only thing I truly loved and was loved by in return: music.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  The next couple of days whizzed by, as I buried myself completely in my work. If I started to reflect on guy issues from the past month even for a moment, I would obediently start to sing a song, go for a walk, or put a tasty treat in my mouth. Yes, I admittedly ate my emotions. But stuffing a croissant in my mouth was a better choice than downing a glass of wine, or two, or three, which was what I felt compelled to do whenever I thought of Rex or Derek. And I was trying to stay away from that. No more heartbreak hangovers for me. Never again.

  I developed a new daily routine that was dripping with relaxation and creation. My days included a morning bath, a session on my guitar, a walk outside, an afternoon session in the studio, another walk, a phone call to my mom, and an evening full of writing, singing, and playing. The schedule kept me on track and distracted me wonderfully. Nina loved having me at home more, and my mom loved hearing from me every day. It was back to just me and my girls, and my music.

  I cleared my head during my walks throughout the city. The streets were emptier now that it was November, and the golden leaves that once hung in October were now laying on the ground. The air had a chill to it, as the sun chose to mostly hide behind the clouds. The fresh air was great for my mind though, and I would bundle up in my thick double-breasted jacket and a soft pink scarf to stay warm. I still saw and greeted the street cleaners and shoe shiners in the morning, but I rarely talked to anyone else. I had become a lone wolf. I didn’t even go out for Halloween. I stayed at home with Nina. I didn’t dress up, unless my pajamas counted as a costume. Life was much simpler as a lone wolf.

  I had to admit that there was one time during a lull in the afternoon where I caved in. I wish I hadn’t, because it certainly didn’t make me feel any better. I was listening to music on my laptop, when I had the sudden urge to google “Rebecca Barton”, the girl who was more worthy of the flower corsage than me. A stream of photos appeared on the screen, one more gorgeous than the next. She was blonde and petite. She was probably one of those aggravating girls who ate anything she wanted and then complained about being too thin. I saw a couple of photos of her and Rex from the art event. His arm was around her, looking smug. She wasn’t even smiling; instead, she held an ‘I know I look good’ pose, as she challenged the cameras with her eyes. Ugh. So that was who he spent the whole night with? I felt sick again. I couldn’t compete with these girls. It was a good thing I was out of the competition then. Now, where were those croissants again?

  That afternoon, I finished the final song for my album and recorded it in the studio. The music was already prepared months ago, but I couldn’t find the right lyrics. It was meant to be a love song, but I kept naturally changing it into a song of betrayal. I found the perfect words that afternoon, though. It was funny how I could only write words of true love when my heart was truly broken.

  TWENTY-SIX

  “This is Reggie Murphy here, and you are listening to The Party 95.7 FM. Once again, we have the lovely, talented Miss Rose West in the studio with us today,” Reggie said into the microphone and smiled at me. “Thank you for coming on the show today.”

  “Thank you, Reggie. I am happy to be here again,” I replied into the microphone.

  “So, how is the new album co
ming along? I have heard great things from people around the city.”

  “The album is great. It is finally finished!” I exclaimed. It felt so good to say that.

  “That is awesome to hear. So, when do we get to hear it?” he raised his eyebrows to let me know that this was my time to start dropping names and plugging my gig.

  “Well, it just so happens that if you would like to hear my new songs, I will be performing a gig at the Meadowlark Lounge on Larimer Street starting at 8 PM on this coming Saturday night.”

  “You have always been so modest, Rose. You’ve got to hype it up more than that!” Reggie laughed. “First of all, this show is nearly sold out, so you had better hurry. Secondly, this girl is a powerhouse of sound with pipes of steel. Going to a Rose West gig should be on your bucket list. And thirdly, you’ll get to see me and my shining bright smile there, since I am hosting the gig.”

  “Wow, you are right. You are much better at hyping than me!”

  “It’s my job, Rose. Besides you can sing much better than me,” he smiled. “Ohh, actually, I just had a brilliant idea…” he said mysteriously.

  “Oh? What might that be?” I raised my eyebrows to him and gave him a silent ‘don’t you dare’ look across the table.

  “You could, you know, give us an ‘a cappella teaser’ from your new album. Any song you want!”

  “Oh, ummm, sure,” I said, trying to think of the best song to choose. “Okay, I will sing a love song that I wrote this week.”

  I closed my eyes and sang the chorus of my newest song. The words were true, simple, and heartfelt. When I opened my eyes, Reggie had his mouth hanging open in awe.

  “Whoa! That was amazing, Rose. I am actually speechless.”

  “Thank you. Now it is your turn,” I said playfully.

  “Ain’t nobody want to hear that, girl!” he joked. “Now, is there any news on the developing romance between you and Derek Rockson, the two Denver songbirds?”