Degrade

by T. L Smith

  What have I gotten myself into?

  All night I think about him, but not once do I reopen that door to see if he’s still there.

  ****

  I wake to the sound of banging on my door, followed by the yelling of my name. It’s Ember. I open the door to her smiling face staring at me. She walks in and slams the door shut behind her, and follows me to the kitchen where I make us a coffee. “You know you have a man on your doorstep asleep?” she says with the biggest grin on her face. I make three coffees. I hand her one and take the other to the door and give it to Zeke. I don’t make eye contact, and when his hand brushes mine to take it, I walk straight back inside shutting the door.

  “So you wear his clothes, but let him sleep outside?” she asks smiling brightly. I look down and realize I do have on his shirt and then realize he’s probably just seen that too. I run to my bedroom and find the closest clothes that are actually mine and take his shirt off and replace them. Ember is smiling wide when I return.

  “This is interesting,” she says clapping her hands like a child.

  “Shut up,” I mutter, picking up my coffee and sipping on it.

  “How long has he been out there?” she asks pointing to the door. I shrug my shoulders because I really don’t know. Could be two days or longer, I just don’t know.

  “Well, are you going to let him in?”

  “Ember, you came for what exactly?” I ask. Her eyebrows raise and she laughs at me some more.

  “Lance is here for work. Just came by to wake you up and take you out for lunch,” she says.

  “Okay, let’s go,” I tell her picking up my keys.

  “You aren’t wearing that, are you?” she asks pointing to my clothes, making a face at them.

  “I can just as easily stay home,” I tell her. She shakes her head and walks to the door. I follow her and lock it on the way out. Zeke is still there and watching us.

  “Toodles,” Ember says with a wave. I don’t look at him; I don’t want to see him.

  We walk to a nearby restaurant and when we’re seated Ember laughs loudly.

  “Is he your bodyguard?” she asks, and I wonder who she’s pointing to. When I gaze out the bay windows of the restaurant, I see Zeke standing there. I cover my face with my hands and try to calm my breathing.

  “Why won’t he leave me alone,” I say in exhaustion.

  “He got bit by the Pixie,” she says still laughing. I hit her on the head with the menu and she stops and rubs it. It’s not just Zeke that calls me that, Ember used to when she couldn’t remember my name when we first met, she says it’s all about my size and my hair.

  “What? It’s funny,” she says shrugging. “Seriously, why’s he following you everywhere and sleeping at your door?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Didn’t you two break up?” she asks me.

  “Yes,” I reply.

  “He seems to think otherwise, you know. I’ve heard rumors about him lately,” she says leaning over like she’s about to tell me a secret.

  “What?”

  “He sold his house and some of his businesses,” she says.

  I look over to him, wondering if it’s true. A part of me is screaming not to care, but the other part wants to know.

  The quarrels of lovers are the renewal of love.

  ~Jean Racine~

  Ember left after lunch, leaving me at the restaurant by myself. Not entirely by myself as Zeke is still here. Though he hasn’t entered, he’s not even looking in my direction. I wonder what I should do about him? I want to know if what Ember said is true. But a part of me doesn’t want to engage in any conversation. It will just bring heartbreak, of that I’m sure.

  As I walk out, he watches me. I stop and stare at him and he stares straight back. His blue eyes assessing me. He doesn’t say a word though he never has been big on words to begin with. Only when it suited him.

  He follows me all the way home and once again says nothing as he walks with heavy steps next to me. Once we reach the apartment door, I wonder what should be done. How long will he stay without me talking to him? Would it be easier if we talked this out, so we can both go on with our lives? To stop whatever this is, that’s happening here, even though I’m not quite sure what that is.

  “Why are you here, Zeke?” I ask turning to face him, as I open my door and take a step inside.

  “I want to talk,” he tells me. I open the door further and allow him entry. His clothes that came in the box are still sitting on the floor in the entryway. He steps over them and doesn’t say anything about them as he follows me in. I sit on my couch, and he goes to sit next to me, but I want distance between us. I shake my head before he has the chance to sit, and point to the single chair located across from mine. He does it without a word and sits down.

  “Talk,” I tell him, watching him carefully. His face is straight like he’s trying to think of the correct words, but he’s struggling.

  “I fucked up,” he says playing with his phone in his hand. I nod, agreeing. Fucked up doesn’t even cover it. “So did you,” he says. I want to scream at him, telling him he’s wrong. But I don’t, because I did as well.

  “Have you come here to clear the air, so you can go back to where you came from?”

  His face scrunches and his eyes hold mine. “No,” he says shaking his head.

  “Then why are you here?” I demand.

  “I want to start over. I want to help you fall back in love with me,” he says and I can hear the meaning in his voice, his eyes are locked onto mine waiting for my reaction. I don’t give him one at first, I just sit there. Running everything through my mind. He can’t change; he’s the man and will always be the man I met, the one that’s dangerous, bad, and the devil. But that’s the man I also fell in love with. But so much has happened, so much has changed. I was put in a dangerous situation because of him and ultimately I was hurt because of who he is and what he does.

  “Stop thinking, I’ll explain everything tonight. Just meet me out the front at seven,” he says and stands. He watches me and walks a few steps forward and kisses me on the top of my head and walks out the door shutting it behind him.

  I sit in my seat not moving, thinking about what he’s just said. And what his plans are for the evening.

  ****

  Later that night I’m dressed in a black leather skirt and a black matching top. My hair is straightened, framing my face and I’m sitting bouncing my leg up and down nervously as I wonder if this is a good idea.

  His knock comes softly on my door. I stand in my heels and am afraid I’m going to lose my balance, my legs are that shaky. When I open the door, he’s a picture of sex. Total sex appeal oozes from him; his stubble that was on his face earlier is now gone. He’s dressed in a black suit, with a purple tie against his crisp white shirt. He looks me up and down and produces a bouquet of gorgeous flowers. They’re yellow, my favorite color. I smile against my better judgment and take them from him, thanking him and his sexy smile doesn’t leave his face.

  “Are you ready?” he asks. I don’t know how to answer that, am I? Will I ever be? I decide to not use words and nod my head instead. He places his hand out for me to take and I decline. It’s too fast, too soon.

  ****

  On the car ride over not a word is spoken, he hired a driver and we sit in the back. His eyes on me, my eyes straight ahead.

  “Are you going to look at me tonight?” he asks from right next to me. I don’t answer, words have gone blank in my head and nothing is reaching my mouth. “I hope you do,” he says. The car comes to stop and he exits coming around to my side to help me out.

  He walks into a very chic restaurant, there are waiters waiting in line at the front as we enter. It’s hidden, and extremely high class. I wonder how he knows about such a place, and I also wonder where all their customers are.

  “Mr. Takon, we have your table ready,” the waiter says and escorts us back to a single two seater table in the middle of the restaur
ant. All the tables are empty and are pushed away from ours. The restaurant has glass chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. The décor is white and gold. There are golden flowers lining the room everywhere.

  Once we’re seated, wine is poured and the waiter tells us our first course will be arriving soon. Zeke is looking at me as I continue to be mesmerized by this stunning establishment.

  “Do you like it?” he asks, breaking my thoughts and bringing them back to solely him.

  “It’s charming,” I answer him truthfully. “But where are the customers?” I ask him and he smirks.

  “I booked it out for just us, for the night.”

  “Why?” I say.

  “Because you need special, and we never did special. I want to start again,” he says.

  “I can’t forget everything, Zeke. There’s too much to forget,” I say looking down to my hands in my lap.

  “I know, but we never did this. I never wooed you. They say that’s what you’re meant to do. I didn’t, I went straight for what was mine, what I wanted.”

  “I was never yours,” I squeak out.

  “But you were, as I am yours.”

  I try shaking my head. “You’re not, you had your rules. I accepted the rules. I didn’t ask for more. So I left.”

  “You didn’t have to ask for more, you had it all to begin with.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “I’m gonna make you fall back in love with me, Bexley because I love you.”

  “You can’t do that, love doesn’t work like that. Don’t say those words, because you think that’s what I want to hear. Say it because you want me to be your last breath. Say it because I’m all you see. Say it because I’m in you, I’m stuck to your soul. Say it to me like you mean it, not to make yourself feel good.”

  “You said falling in love was hard, but staying in love was the hard part. It may have been hard for you, but it was never hard for me, Pixie. Your fucking stuck to me, I don’t think I could ever stop loving you. It may have taken me a while to get to that, to say that. But you will see, I’ll make you see,” he says and stops as the first course arrives at our table. We eat without so much as another word, the heavy words have now been said. What else is left?

  Conversation is kept light after that. I start to wonder about what Ember said and want to ask him. But I don’t want to give false hope, where hope isn’t there yet.

  “How long you staying here for?” I ask, touching the subject but not delving in too deeply.

  “For as long as you do,” he says quietly.

  “What do you mean?” I ask not understanding.

  “I mean, I’m here for you. I’ll go wherever you go.”

  “What about your club? Your work?”

  “What about them?” he says inclining his head to the side, not giving me answers.

  “You’re very work orientated,” I tell him with a scoff.

  “I’m very Bexley orientated, too,” he says smiling. I try to hide the grin that touches my lips, but I can’t and he sees it.

  When love is not madness, it is not love.

  ~Pedro Calderon de la Barca~

  She sits across from me with a smile on her face, while she baits me. Telling me that what I say is not true. Though I know it is, because I feel it. It may have taken me a while to get there, but now I’m there she doesn’t have a chance in hell of getting rid of me.

  “I don’t even think I want this, Zeke,” she says stopping that smile that was etched across her face.

  “You do! I know you do. You didn’t just stop loving me, Bexley.”

  Her face slowly scrunches like she wants to argue the fact. “Love isn’t always the answer, it was wrong,” she tells me shaking her head.

  “It was never wrong, just the wrong time. But us…” I say indicating between us, “we were never wrong.”

  “Are you going to be sleeping out the front of my apartment until I agree?” she goads me. I want to laugh.

  “If you agree to try, no, I won’t. I do have a hotel that I’m supposed to be staying at. I just choose to be close to you,” I tell her the truth.

  “Did you sell the house?” she asks me.

  “I did. I sold a lot of my holdings.”

  “Even the business Aria is in?” she asks again.

  “Yes, it was a risk. I couldn’t have anything to do with that if it meant placing you in harm’s way again.”

  “What about Aria? Was she okay with that?”

  She’s always concerned about others.

  “Aria wants what’s best for us, and she knows this is it.”

  “Where do you intend to live?”

  “Wherever you are.”

  She spits her drink out like she doesn’t believe what I’ve just said. A waiter runs over and hands her a napkin and she is kind when she accepts it. Thanking him.

  “You can’t expect me to just believe that, or even want that,” she says wiping her face and skirt. I want to touch her, I’ve been keeping my distance, it’s something I’m not used to with her. It’s hard, and it’s probably one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. Refraining myself from touching her, from kissing her. My eyes linger on her soft, lush lips, and she catches me looking and licks them. She knows what I’m thinking. What I want.

  “I really want to taste you, Bexley,” I say and she sits up straighter in her chair. Her head starts to shake no.

  “You can’t,” she says just above a whisper.

  “Why can’t I?”

  “Because you’re the devil, and I can’t resist him,” she says like it’s simple and I’m meant to understand that statement.

  “I make you weak?” I ask her.

  “Yes, and when you touch me, I’m yours. I want to be mine for just a little while longer,” she says.

  I nod my head in understanding. “I won’t apologize, Bexley. Yes, we may not be right, but who is? I may have hurt you, but I still want you. More than my next breath,” I tell her leaning closer.

  “Don’t say things like that, like it’s the stuff I want to hear,” she says to me.

  “It’s not about what you want to hear, it’s about what I have to say.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes, I’m not a chaser. You know I get what I want. But here I am, chasing you.” I wave my hands around in indicative movements.

  “I need to go home, Zeke,” she says standing.

  “Are you sure?” I ask reaching out to touch her. She nods her head. I hold my hand out, asking for her to take it.

  “Can we walk? I would like more time.” She looks to me then to my hand and places her small soft palm in mine. I take and squeeze it, feeling her hand beneath mine.

  Nothing is spoken at first, she keeps looking down at our joined hands. Like she’s afraid, I’m going to do something, or let go. Or maybe not even believing that I’m holding her.

  “Are you changing, Zeke,” she asks looking at me while we walk.

  “I believe so,” I tell her gripping her hand tighter.

  “I don’t want you to change,” she says whispering. I stop and when I do, she does as well.

  “Why?”

  “I fell in love with you, Zeke, the problem wasn’t so much you. Though, there could be improvements. It was what you did, how it was kept secret, how you wanted to break me down like your other women. Once that stopped, it was you that I loved. Just don’t try to degrade me again.”

  “Are…are you saying that you’ll try?” I ask her not believing.

  “I don’t know what I’m saying though I can’t turn you off. You’re etched in here, and I can’t get you out. So I may as well stop fighting it while you’re here.”

  “Can I kiss you now?” I ask her, she looks back to the path we’re on and shakes her head no.

  “Not yet,” she says walking again, taking me with her this time.

  “Favorite color?” I ask her, changing the subject.

  “Black,” she replies.

  “Why?” I ask
her, she smiles but doesn’t stop walking.

  “It matches your soul, so it’s mine.”

  I laugh. “Are you saying my soul is black?”

  “Yes, and because I love you, it’s my favorite color.”

  “Okay, favorite movie?”

  “I don’t have a favorite movie, but television show I do. It’s the Gilmore Girls.”

  “Okay, diamonds or pearls?”

  “Why must you know that?” she ask me her smile gone.

  “Because we’re on a first date. We have to get to know one another.”

  “Diamonds.”

  “How many kids?” I ask, she stops fully this time and looks at me and removes her hand.

  “This is a bit much for a first date.”

  “I think everything we’ve said on this date, would make first dates very uncomfortable.”

  “None,” she answers my question.

  “What?”

  She starts playing with her strap on her shoulder bag. “I can’t have kids, Zeke.”

  I want to ask her why, but I don’t and reach out and take her hand instead. She lets me and our fingers intertwine as we continue walking.

  “That’s good, kids and me don’t mix.”

  She smiles, just barely, and doesn’t say another word.

  “Favorite band?”

  “Maroon Five,” she replies.

  I nod my head agreeing. “Can I see you tomorrow?”

  “What you don’t plan on sleeping out the front on my doorstep again?” she jokes.

  “Only if that’s what you want?” I ask her raising my eyebrows in question.

  “No, go back to your hotel.”

  We come to a stop at her apartment complex, and she opens the door and I follow her up. Once we reach the door, we’re at a loss for words.

  “Should I invite you in?” she asks as she opens the door.

  I want to tell her yes, but I don’t. “No, that may not be smart, we need to do this right, and if I walk in, I wont be leaving that body of yours for weeks, I’ll be buried there for days.”