by Lara Mondoux
Okay, I said.
I’ll e-mail when I know where I’m staying.
I never replied. A few moments later I heard the garage door open, and the two dogs startled me out of my disconcerted state. I didn’t get up as I usually did when I heard Ryan enter the house and greet the animals. I stayed seated and forced a smile when he entered the kitchen.
“Hi, beautiful,” he said sweetly, bending down to kiss me.
“Hi. How was your day?”
“It was good! It’s just hard to stay at work when I know you’re here. I just want to get home and be with you.” He was still bent down, his face level with mine. He kissed me again, set down his briefcase, and poured himself a splash of the wine. “Is everything okay? You seem a little quiet.”
“Everything’s fine. I’m just exhausted. I want to get to bed early.”
“Perfect, because if there’s one way I’d choose to end every day, it would be in bed with you. By the way, I can’t wait to meet your family on Thanksgiving. And then there’s Christmas. I haven’t put up a tree in this place since I moved in. Maybe this will be the year.” He winked at me. He was so damn good-natured that it was almost unfair. And I had the audacity to have someone else on my twisted, senseless mind.
I chose to spend the next few nights at my apartment instead of Ryan’s place so that I wouldn’t give myself away. Yes, I’d agreed to have drinks with Jay, but it wasn’t cheating. I wouldn’t ever cheat on Ryan, not after what he’d been through and how incredible he’d been to me. But I had to imagine that there’d be some sexual tension between Jay and me in person. After all, we’d had such animalistic sex together and what I still believed were genuine feelings for one another.
I isolated myself ahead of the holiday, which wasn’t like me at all. It wasn’t unusual for me to have already completed my Christmas shopping by Thanksgiving. But the whirlwind of my new romance and the reemergence of my old one had me thrown off. I was tucked away in my apartment, and Ryan might stop over at any moment. His restaurant was less than a block away, and on breaks he’d occasionally stop by and give me a quick kiss. I’d usually make him coffee, and then he’d head back to work. I loved those visits most of the time, but for those few nights leading up to seeing Jay again I wasn’t in the mood for his sweetness, spontaneity, or charm.
Jay made good on his promise. He e-mailed me saying that he was going to be staying at the Hilton, which was close to my apartment. I figured we’d meet somewhere in the middle. That way we could both walk and I wouldn’t be stuck driving him—not to mention being persuaded to go up to his hotel room.
I suggested we meet at Martini, a swanky restaurant and bar on High Street just a few blocks south of Ryan’s. I knew there was no way Ryan would see me there, and I mostly avoided texting him that evening so I wouldn’t give myself away and cause him worry over nothing. I knew that if he found out about it, even though it was just a drink, he’d be devastated.
In an effort to make Jay eat his heart out, I wore my tightest J Brand jeans and my sexiest boots from Via Spiga, along with a black cutout top from Gilt. It crossed my mind that I might not look as thin as I had six months earlier, when I was effectively starving myself just for him. But I thought that overall I looked decent, and I wanted Jay to rue the day he ever screwed me over. I walked the four blocks to Martini, taking the back way so that I wouldn’t pass East Coast’s front windows. I felt so underhanded and had to repeatedly remind myself that technically I hadn’t done anything wrong yet. It was just a quick drink with an old acquaintance. When I finally arrived, I grabbed the last two seats at the bar. Moments later, Jay emerged at the door. He looked the same, only smaller. That was probably because I was now comparing him to Ryan, who was very muscular. Even so, I got that feeling of butterflies that he so masterfully evoked in me.
“Hi, sexy,” he said, coming over and planting a kiss on both of my cheeks as if we were old buddies, and European ones at that. “Nice place you picked out here.”
Martini was sexy. The environment was scintillating, and I hoped that I hadn’t picked it subconsciously for that reason. Everything was white apart from the dark wood floor and the oak bar. Crystal chandeliers lent elegance to the interior, and it seemed the perfect place for an affair. But this wasn’t even a date, let alone an affair. I had to remember that and keep myself from falling into old destructive behaviors.
“Nice to see you again,” I said flatly. I sipped my martini, not even reciprocating his kiss. “Have a seat.” I nodded to the barstool next to mine. I had to admit that it was good to see him again. As he always did, he garnered all of the looks from women, and I immediately felt submissive yet strangely commanding in his presence.
“Time’s treated you well,” he said.
“Well, it’s only been a few months, Jay,” I said, sarcastically. “So to what do I owe this, uh, pleasure?”
“I had to see you and apologize in person. It isn’t what you think.”
“Oh, I bet it isn’t,” I said, smirking.
“You’re upset, I can tell.”
Shit! I didn’t want to radiate anger, only indifference. “No, no. I’m not, really.”
“Well, I want to make it up to you.”
“First tell me what happened.”
“I got freaked out.”
How pathetic. “That’s all you’ve got? You got freaked out, so you decided to fuck someone else?”
“I hadn’t ever felt that way about anyone before, Elle. It was just different being with you. I’m used to girls who are, I don’t know, crazy. And you couldn’t have been saner. And I got scared. I liked my life how it was. Then I felt you getting attached to me, and it freaked me out. And I pulled away. And I’m an asshole.”
“Understatement,” I muttered under my breath.
“Sorry, what?”
“Nothing. So that’s it? You got nervous?”
“It’s that simple. I didn’t think I was ready to get serious with anyone, let alone a girl in Ohio. But now I think I am.”
“You think you are?”
“No, I am. I really am. I can give it all up, Elle. I swear to you. I’ve thought about you every single day.”
I empathized with him for about two seconds before I snapped back to reality. “Well, you’re a little late,” I said snidely. I sipped the last of my cocktail and nodded to the pretty female bartender, who offered me another.
“You’re with someone else?” he asked.
He looked at me with his piercing green eyes. I’d almost forgotten how alluring they were. Beneath them his chiseled features showed some remorse. Again I felt for him. Being that good-looking almost certainly came with its own set of challenges; he probably never had to deal with the emotional garbage that us non-Greek gods and goddesses did. I felt the bartender fixate on Jay, and again I felt the artificial glow that came with being in his company. He was naturally magnetic and popular. And as a girl who’d never had that before, I was enthralled by it. That he apparently wanted me back in his life was blowing my mind; all of it was just too much to take. All I could do was keep drinking.
“Yes, I met someone,” I said, attempting to be a bit gentler than when I first arrived.
The bartender brought us each new drinks and nearly tripped while watching Jay. She was attractive, but he was unfazed. He was absorbed in me, but every few minutes I noticed him glance at his own reflection in the adjacent window.
“It can’t be that serious—it’s only been a few months.” He spoke convincingly.
“It’s been six months. And it’s serious. He’s incredible. He’d never blow me off for some foreign-exchange slut.” I rolled my eyes and laughed a little. Jay laughed too and seemed happy that I was able to make light of his recklessness. He gently shoved my shoulder, and when his skin touched mine, I felt momentarily electrified. Our eyes met. I could tell he felt it too.
“I can’t let you go again. Remember what we had?” His tone was laced with sexual innuendo. As he spoke, he trac
ed his index finger from my shoulder all the way down to my wrist. I couldn’t concentrate.
“I remember,” I said timidly. He’d bullied me into remembering how hot the sex was between us; something I’d worked painstakingly to forget. But with Ryan sex was so wonderful too, just in a different way—a way that made me feel good about myself.
“Of course you do.” He still traced his fingers up and down my arm, which was outstretched onto the bar, as if blocking him from getting too close. He took my arm and brought my hand up to his mouth to kiss it. His lips were cool, and they made my palms clammy. I felt warm all over and instantly became aroused.
“What we had, it was so good, Elle. You can’t tell me that you haven’t thought about it.”
“I’ve been trying not to,” I said, my voice practically a whisper.
“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked.
And I did, I desperately did. Out of there and far away from him. Simultaneously though, I wanted to be closer to him, even though my brain was screaming at me to leave. I nodded yes, if only to get some fresh air. Jay paid the check, and I waited outside. I saw the bartender attempting to chat him up through the window, and though he smiled flirtatiously, he wasn’t obliging her. Maybe he really did want me back.
I already had the perfect guy, one who’d never hurt me. One who’d never strung me along or lied to me. He’d never used me for sex or made me question for even a second how he felt about me. Ryan had never been freaked out by his feelings for me. He’d given me a key to his home after a month, for God’s sake. And I was seeing Jay behind his back. But the shameful reality was that I wanted Jay too. I’d never stopped wanting him. Ryan just distracted me. And I loved Ryan—I really did. But there was no denying that from the moment I laid eyes on Jay Conrad, the spark between us was intense. By contrast, I’d known Ryan for two years before there was anything between us.
I agonized over the potential fallout from my indiscretion. I never wanted to hurt Ryan, but I was blinded by Jay’s narcotic-like sexual magnetism. My feelings for Ryan were more subtle, but also more self-affirming. He made me content and did so just by being himself. The relationship was effortlessness. But I didn’t pine for him the way a drug addict pines for her poison.
“Which way is your apartment?” Jay asked, his hand in its old familiar place on my behind.
“This way.” I walked south back toward my building, taking a detour so as not to pass Ryan’s restaurant.
“Is Lulu home?”
“It’s Luna,” I said, shocked that he still couldn’t even remember my dog’s name. “And yes, she is.”
“Shit.”
“What?”
“I’m allergic.” Suddenly, I realized that he was kind of a pansy, albeit a hot one. “Fuck it, I’ll deal.”
I fidgeted next to him as we walked up a flight of stairs and down the hall to my apartment. I didn’t even know why I was allowing him to come up, except that I was basically powerless against him. He kept telling me we’d drink some wine and talk it out, which seemed reasonable enough. But of course he had other motives. My plan was to tell him it would never work, though why he had to come upstairs to be told that I hadn’t worked out yet.
Luna ignored Jay when we walked in, a definite indication that I was wasting my time by allowing him in my door. I gave her a bone to occupy her while we talked and then poured Jay and me each a glass of wine. Before I could even hand him his glass, he was kissing me in my bright, Ikea-furnished kitchen. I couldn’t help myself. I fell into his arms and became aware again of how lean his body was, of his faint aroma of cologne and cigarettes, and of how he wasn’t all that much larger than me. I continued kissing him, trying to forget the myriad of voices screaming in my head; some said stop, while others said carry on.
As he reached his cold hand up my top, I realized that touching him felt intrinsically wrong. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t betray Ryan, even if he’d never find out. Even though we’d only spent scarcely more than a long summer together, it was still a very real relationship. With the will of a recovered alcoholic, I reached down with white knuckles and removed Jay’s hand from my chest.
“I can’t do this,” I said. “I need to think.”
“What’s there to think about? You want me, I want you. It’s been that way since we met. It’s that simple. We can be together now. I’ve got it all worked out.”
“I’m with someone else.”
“Yeah, but you’re in love with me. I know you were and I believe that you still are,” Jay said compellingly.
“Jay, I know what love looks like. And not because you showed me. I think you need to leave.”
“Come on, baby,” he said, coming close to me again.
“You piece of shit, get off of her,” Ryan said, appearing from nowhere.
He’d come by for a coffee on his break and had seen me in the arms of my former lover. My heart went out to him. Everything was in perspective now. He was the one I wanted—the one I needed. Seeing them there side by side, there was no comparison; it was Ryan or no one. But he was the picture of rage. I’d seen him angry before, but now he was downright terrifying. His body was rigid, and his hands were curled into fists. He was flushed, his expression stoic.
“Ryan,” I said. “This isn’t what you think. He was just leaving.”
“You don’t want me to leave, Elle,” Jay said. “You know you don’t.”
“Yes I do! You need to go, Jay.”
“Remember how much you loved fucking me. You said so yourself,” Jay said, using my own words against me.
I cringed for Ryan’s sake. The poor guy had been through enough betrayal to last two lifetimes. I had to stop this before he got hurt any further. But before I could act, Ryan pulled Jay by the shoulder and shoved him up against my wall, leaving a mark from Jay’s head, probably from his expensive hair gel. He jammed his mighty right fist into the left side of Jay’s perfectly symmetrical face, maybe even spoiling its symmetry slightly. Jay stumbled backward a few steps, my countertop breaking his fall. Luna barked at the two men and they stood facing one another, their size difference evoking David and Goliath.
“Ryan, nothing happened. I promise you,” I said.
“Did you kiss him?” Ryan glared at me, frighteningly aggressive.
“He kissed me,” I said. I couldn’t lie to him. “And it made me realize that you’re the only one I want. Forever. I love you. I feel nothing for him.”
“If you love me, then what is he even doing here? Did you know he was coming?”
“Yes.”
“So you lied to me.”
“Only so I wouldn’t hurt you,” I said, with tear-filled eyes. “I knew it was nothing, and I didn’t want to alarm you!”
“Oh, you didn’t hurt me, Elle. You broke my fucking heart.” He stepped past Jay and slammed my door behind him.
I stood in silence, holding back sobs. Luna jumped at my legs in what I assumed was an attempt to console me. “It’s time for you to leave,” I said to Jay.
“It’s, like, seven blocks to my hotel. Can you drive me?”
He was such a pussy. I sent him on his pathetic way. I slammed my door shut after him, painfully aware of the damage that had been done.
21
The days following the confrontation were filled with anxiety and sadness; I felt just as much negativity (if not more) as I had after Jay’s initial blow to my ego. The only difference was that I was the one at fault. My responsibility in the matter made it even harder to deal with. I sulked around my office and did the same thing at my apartment. I felt like a complete and utter scumbag. I’d severely wounded the first man who’d ever treated me like royalty. It destroyed me to know that I’d caused him even an ounce of pain, let alone such severe pain. And on top of that, I too was stricken with pain because all I wanted was for Ryan to remain in my life. But it didn’t seem that would be the way my story ended.
I beat myself up to no end for accepting Jay’s invitation to me
et again. Granted, I tried to put an end to the kiss before anything else happened, and in my defense, I’d fully intended on sending Jay packing before Ryan ever showed up. But Ryan saw what he saw, and I couldn’t blame him for feeling deceived. No matter how I framed it, I was in the wrong. It was all because I was still trying to make up for not being adored in my adolescence. I couldn’t leave the past in the past, and it came back to bite me—hard. And then its venom spread, and I felt like the unwanted teenager all over again. I’d officially be alone for another winter.
I went robotically through the demanding month of December at work. I bought uninspired Christmas gifts for everyone in my family, doing all my shopping online and refusing to leave the apartment unless it was absolutely required of me. Luna proved quite the valuable partner to me in my sulky state, as she regularly licked the salty tears from my cheeks, her warm tongue providing comfort and her presence preventing me from feeling completely on my own.
I’d often stare out of the window of my apartment for hours at a time, wine glass in hand, the television drowning out the silence. I’d gaze at Ryan’s restaurant, hoping I could glimpse him stepping outside to accept a wine delivery or just catching a breath of fresh air amid the hectic banquet schedule I’d planned for him. But he never emerged from the back door; it was as if he knew I’d be looking for him and that seeing him would give me a sense of hope that I didn’t deserve.
After the incident at my apartment, I’d heard from Jay right away. He texted me almost every day during the week that followed, but I ignored his advances and he finally backed off. The only person I wanted to hear from was Ryan. My attempts to talk to him were futile. I’d gone, uninvited, to his house one time, but he either wasn’t home or, having seen my car in the driveway, simply wasn’t answering the door. I’d called him repeatedly, but the call always went straight to voice mail. When I tried reaching him at work, whatever assistant was working that day always make up some excuse as to why he couldn’t come to the phone. My final attempt was a desperate text that simply read, I need you in my life, which he also ignored. And so finally I gave up.