Eluding Nirvana

by King, V. L.

  “Did you tell her about the move?” he asked as I pulled up my contact list.

  I just wanted to overcome the hurdle that was standing in front of me, so I shook my head and muttered ‘no’ while I selected ‘little sis’, in my contacts then selected the option to send a text message. I typed everything which needed to be said:

  I can’t believe you would stoop so low.

  I’m done.

  We’re done.

  I have no sister.

  Chapter Eleven

  The following morning, I woke to an empty bed. My head pulsated while my eyes felt tight and raw. For the first time in years, I’d cried myself to sleep. The recollections of the crazy times I had with Brittany, all the sad times and downright annoying times had my grief-stricken body weeping harder. In spite of everything, she was my sister.

  I remembered her tiny hand clutching my pinkie finger the day Mom and Dad brought her tiny innocent body home from the hospital, and each and every pinkie promise we made to each other as we grew older. I remembered her laughing when I pulled silly faces behind our parents back and the very first fight I got into as I stood protecting her from some bully in school.

  Brittany was my right arm. Nevertheless, she had crossed a line as my sibling, and I hacked her out of my life because of it.

  I was pushing myself up in the heart of the bed, gathering the edge of the comforter and stretching it across my chest, when Liam spoke from the doorway of the walk-in closet at the foot of the bed.

  “Good morning, baby.” His voice was soothing yet strained as he continued fixing his black tie into place.

  “Morning.”

  Steadily making his way towards me, he asked, “How are you feeling this morning?” When he took position on the edge of my side, the mattress dipped.

  “Hurt.” I sighed, although I found the strength to force a nervous, tightlipped grin through my blatant honesty when his hand gradually lifted.

  By some means, I mustered the strength to combat my body’s natural response and not recoil from him. Liam’s degree of guilt was discernible not solely by the look on his face, but in his velvety-enriched voice as he breathed ‘oh, Kady’ while his fingertips smoothed over the arch of my left cheekbone. His handsome, clean-shaven face contorted in blatant shame when he witnessed me striving to restrict a wince at the faintest of connections. Had I not the strength to suppress the full extent of my pained reaction, I was certain it would’ve added to his guilty disposition. I couldn’t do that to him. He shouldn’t need to feel guilt. He hadn’t forced Brittany to fabricate the bullshit which resulted in our actions.

  “It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt.” It did. It stung and throbbed like a bitch.

  Immediately after withdrawing his hand from my injured cheek, he dove into the back pocket of his suit pants. It was when his wallet was opened and one of his credit cards was being held out to me that I couldn’t mask my confusion any longer.

  “Here.” He thrust it at me once more. My perplexed scowl remained fixed on my face as I accepted his offering with caution. “Treat yourself. Get your hair done, nails, feet, the works.”

  I shook my head, dubious. Where was this coming from? “What about me staying inside? I don’t think I can go—”

  “Baby, will you please listen,” he interjected with hooded eyes.

  In that instant, I shut my mouth and a tender hand came down to rest on the comforter covering my thigh.

  He continued. “I want you to get your hair done. Get your nails and feet done. Buy a new outfit, something that will stun everyone at the Hyperion tonight.”

  A stealing crease worked its way across my brow.

  “You haven’t forgotten about tonight’s DeLaney Constructs gathering for the new contract, have you? The entire workload and their plus-ones will be there, Kady.”

  Shit, how could I have forgotten about that damned event? Liam had been organizing it for the last month. But, then again, I had been designing the interior of the house for the last month, so no wonder it had escaped me. “Of course I remember,” I lied.

  The distance closed between us, and my dried, withered lips were swiftly and accordingly slanted over by his soft, minty mouth. “Good.” The small presses of his lips as he mouthed it against me was then removed when he drew himself away and reared up. The mattress shifted once again. “I have to stay behind tonight, so I’ll send a car to pick you up at about seven and I’ll meet you there.”

  “Okay.”

  “And umm.” Shrugging on his navy suit jacket, the plastic card twisted between my fingers. “Take someone with you today. I don’t want you on your own.”

  When I suggested I call Liv and have her accompany me, the idea was swiftly overturned, with Liam’s insistence that I avoid being snowed under by Liv and her godforsaken guilty conscience, which has been making a meal out of her for a while, it would seem. I needed to take time to relax and enjoy myself. Apparently, I deserved it.

  “What about Laurie?” he proposed with an arched dark brow.

  “Good idea. I’ll ask her.”

  Once again he strolled towards the bed. The mattress swallowed his fists as he leaned into me and braced his weight through straight arms. He planted a chaste kiss on my lips. “Good. Treat her to something too.”

  “You are being awfully generous this morning, Mr. DeLaney,” I teased with a sheepish grin.

  He chuckled briefly. “Don’t complain, Miss Jenson. I have one last request.”

  I had already responded with a quick ‘anything’ before I even considered what this ‘request’ may be.

  Seemingly ashamed, remorseful even, his head was lowered. “Could you please…” He wavered, drawing in another breath, I could feel the power he was striving to muster to push past his hesitancy as he faintly rolled his forehead across my own.

  “Could I what?”

  “Could you wear your sunglasses please?” he whispered, reserved and unsettled.

  Wear my sunglasses? That was an unusual request if ever I did hear one. Nonetheless, I nodded my acquiescence and with a brief peck on the lips and a ‘thank you’, Liam left for work, leaving my house keys and large, Jackie-O style sunglasses on the bedside unit.

  It wasn’t until I shunted myself out of the terribly alluring bed and made a beeline to the en suite and gazed at myself in the vanity mirror—during which I patiently waited for the pressure and temperature of the shower to stabilize—did I notice why Liam made such a trivial request. My left eye was turning an ugly darkened purple, while the white of my eye had a minor red tinge. Yes…very large, tinted lenses and a makeup artist’s never-ending supply of cosmetics were definitely going to be needed tonight.

  Within fifteen minutes, my wet body was being rapidly toweled of trickling, warm droplets, when I caught sight of the round, red mark which coated my thigh; all it did was add insult to injury. The day before, my body was a temple, unblemished, just as it always had been. And now, I had two screaming flaws, and all from one catalyst.

  Nevertheless, I refused to let the happenings of the day before tarnish a new day—a day which was important to Liam and the business. So going about my business, I dropped everything that I needed into my red leather shoulder bag when a piercing, double beep informed me of Laurie’s arrival. For the second time in as many minutes, I checked myself in the full-length mirror. Sporting my red gauze blouse—shielding a black camisole—tucked neatly into my black fitted pants and finished with red-heeled pumps, I looked both casual yet sophisticated, something I’d never have achieved without Liam and his tireless mission to modify my fashion sense. I was ever grateful that I listened and he’d succeeded.

  My bag was snatched from the bed before I made a hasty retreat down the stairs and out of the door. Head hanging down, I slipped my shades on as I descended the front steps.

  A very lively ‘good morning, sunshine’ greeted me as I slipped into the cherry-red Honda. When the door was firmly shut behind me, my seatbelt was fixed into place. “What
’s with the Jackie-O’s? It’s not that sunny, you know.”

  Awash by a form of protectiveness and defense, I wrenched my gaze to the woman who made up for her lack of height by teasing and ribbing, and frowned. The only words the voice in my head could repeat was, ‘It was my fault. He did what he felt he needed to do’. Making an attempt to veer away from the subject, I flipped her off with the typical ‘migraine forming’ excuse.

  I thanked my lucky stars that Laurie was so down to Earth, that she actually believed me.

  Laurie and I made a day of it. We talked, we laughed, and we teased. We sat in a booth in a quiet bistro sipping a glass of wine and enjoying a light lunch while watching other patrons and making up little scenarios and possible conversational topics that they were engaging in. My hair was now comfortably on my shoulders, my layers flicked in every direction creating a shaggy-like look which bounced and swished. I loved it. Laurie opted for dark purple nails which matched her bangs, while mine were coated in a rich, glossy chocolate.

  The only item left of the agenda, was to buy an outfit for that night’s event.

  It was 3:15 p.m. when we stepped through the royal blue door and into Marcela’s Obsession. The bell sounded its inviting jingle as I closed the door behind me.

  “Good afternoon, can I help you?” Behind the glass fronted counter, a middle-aged, impeccably dressed woman greeted us. The assortment of jewelry behind the glass sparkled as the light seared through and ricocheted off each gem.

  “No, thank you. We’re just browsing.”

  Up two narrow steps I climbed when I spotted exactly what Liam had said he wanted me to get, ‘something that will stun everyone’. My jaw plunged the floor, and I was sure my specs would soon be joining it. The overly-large frames were tipped down onto the tip of my nose, allowing me to examine the ensemble clearly, when a firm hand crashed onto my shoulder. “Wow!”

  “I know. It’s…” Words failed me. One thing I knew for certain, was that whoever wore this dress would definitely have people stunned at something like tonight’s event.

  “You got to, Kady. I’m sure he would kiss your fucking feet if he saw you in that. Either that or turn into a puddle of mush before your very eyes.” Damn, Laurie was swearing? She must have felt passionate about it, because Laurie very rarely swore.

  Without thinking, I lifted my shades from the tip of my nose to rest atop of my head and resumed examining the material and cut of the dress. The material was cold and a little rigid between my fingers, but as I inspected it further, I silently considered whether the mark on my thigh would be screened by its length. The last thing I wanted was something that ugly to be put on display.

  “What are you thinking, Kady?” Her gentle voice penetrated my silent musing.

  My lips tipped and my lower lip found itself snared between my teeth. “I’m thinking…Liam is going to turn into a puddle of mush when he sees me tonight.”

  The release of her high-pitched, demented squeal had me laughing from my belly. I removed the hanger in a daze, checked the size, and turned to face the woman bouncing up and down with a degree of excitement rivaling a child getting ice-cream, when she came to an abrupt halt. Her face fell and as her hand was raised to my face, I jolted on instinct.

  “What the fuck happened to your eye?”

  Shit. How could I have been so damn stupid? I hastily fumbled with the frames which were still sitting comfortably on the top of my head, and attempted to pull the mask over my contusion. It didn’t help though. Laurie batted my hand away and glared at me with rooted expectancy.

  “Well?” Her terse question bounced in the mute void between us. Allowing the silence to swell, it wasn’t long before she jumped to conclusions as I strove to find a believable answer to her pushy query. “Did Liam hit you?”

  Okay, so she wasn’t jumping to conclusions as such, but it was my responsibility to make sure she thought she was.

  “No, don’t be so silly.” A deceitful, mirthless gurgle vibrated around the lump in my throat and the corners of my lips twitched as my overactive right hand motioned with the gushing of my words. “I tried pulling that damn front door open last night when you left, and it hit me straight in the face…”

  The conviction behind the words which were being rapidly strewn together was absent. Quickly becoming desperate to remove that shrewd scowl from her face, I would have thrown just about everything I had at her to deviate from the subject—hell, I did. “It didn’t happen to Pooh Bear’s friends when they pulled him out of that honey tree.”

  Nope…nothing was going to thaw that expression from her face. Hazel eyes stared at me almost…pitifully, knowingly. It was an expression I urgently sought to remove myself from being under.

  Setting my glasses back onto the bridge of my nose, I took the dress and approached the narrow steps. “Come on, I want to buy this dress before someone else comes in and decides they want it.”

  The footsteps from behind me were shadowed by her small cynical statement. “Funny. You didn’t seem to have any problem with the front door this morning.”

  Blood boiled over in my veins, my heart was a steel drum pounding an erratic rhythm in my chest. My legs and hands trembled as I considered every avenue which I could take to stop people from jumping the gun and thinking the worst of my boyfriend—a man who had been supporting and looking after me for all those months, a man who wouldn’t intentionally cause me any harm. A man, who with everything he had, even if it meant overriding his morals and values, would do anything to make me see the fault in my behavior, just to make sure that we survived as a couple.

  As I handed over Liam’s credit card to the sales assistant, I knew what I had to do.

  Maybe if I began to believe my lies myself, others would believe me too.

  Chapter Twelve

  There seems to be no element of time when you study yourself in the mirror and you’re enthralled by what’s staring back at you. In the bedroom, I stood at the foot of the bed, admiring myself before the Grecian-themed full-length mirror.

  I turned left, I turned right, and I struck several model-worthy poses while pouting my lips. Pathetic, I know, but even so, I felt an element which had been lying dormant for so long slowly awaken: the sense of desirability. Everybody in the world wants to feel desirable, it’s a fact. I think there’s even a quote about it being an irresistible desire. And with each ticking minute that passed, that feeling was being revived.

  The pencil-like leather dress was tight. It hugged me like a second skin, but it wasn’t trashy or streetwalker material. It was classy, appealing, and something which, to me, screamed prestige. With long-sleeves and a slight plunging neckline, the sapphire necklace which Liam gifted me on our first anniversary was able to take pride of place and rest peacefully on my chest. The peak of the reversed V at the front of the ensemble extended to my mid-thigh, allowing my long, toned legs to be displayed, but without fear of revealing the result of yesterday’s incident.

  Thick, bouncing, tousled blonde locks rested on my shoulders. My newly-cut thin bangs scattered across my brow, and I was more than impressed with my mission to disguise my bruising eye with ample cosmetics. It wasn’t even noticeable.

  I was pulled from admiring my reflection by the lengthy sound of the doorbell making its way through the house. Taking several steps around the bed to the bay window, I placed my knee on the padded bench and folded my body over to gaze down at the sidewalk. A black limousine was parked alongside the walkway, and a smile stole across my features. Gazing down at the chauffeur beside the car, his hands grasped and hanging at the front of his body, his head lowered, all I could sense was the degree of Liam’s love for me. He may not say it often, but actions speak louder than words, and his were screaming at me.

  Seizing my black and silver clutch from the foot of the bed, the slight protesting of leather sounded as I lifted my arm and I nestled my purse in-between my bicep and breast, then I checked my reflection once more. The silver mirror of my peep-toe heels
matched perfectly with the silver trimming of my purse. Flicking the light switch off as I exited, I dashed out of the room with an enormous grin, and headed down the stairs and out of the house, locking the door behind me.

  “Good evening, Miss Jenson,” the elderly man greeted and held the door open simultaneously.

  “Good evening,” I replied, slipping myself inside. When the door was closed I breathed in deeply. The fresh scent of the car mixed with the new leather of my dress was a heady combination.

  As we pulled off, I dug into my purse and retrieved my cell. I punched in a quick message to Liam:

  Liam, you have spoiled me rotten. I was expecting a cab.

  See you shortly.

  Love you xxx

  A few minutes later, my handset chimed:

  Liam: When was the last time I allowed you to get a cab? The lengths some people will go to in an attempt to pick up victims are deplorable. I’ll see you soon.

  Love you, too xxx

  Liam, Liam, Liam. Always worrying about me and my safety. I dropped my cell into my bag and clipped it closed, grinning to myself. Why was I even moaning? It was an honor that he cared so much. The time to worry would be if he didn’t care about me. It’s nice to be looked after.

  Thirty minutes later, we were pulling to stop in Seaport, alongside a huge building with a red awning that had ‘The Hyperion’ scripted in elegant cursive, silver writing. Peeking out of the tinted window to my right, I was still studying the structure when my door was pulled open. The leather protested as I twisted on the seat, but I dangled both of my legs out of the door and unfolded myself to stand on the sidewalk, making sure my dress remained shielding what needed to be.

  “Thank you,” I muttered to the elderly gentleman.

  Lifting his hand to his hat, he nodded. “Ma’am.” Then he rounded the hood back to the driver side.

  The light clicking of my heels on the ground echoed as I ascended the three front steps beneath the awning, with my purse tucked under my left arm.

  When I pushed my way through the classy revolving door, I didn’t expect to be drowned by this degree of a lavish elegance.