3:33am:
Plus, he’s got me working on some new file for an oil & gas firm out west. My weekend is totally fucked now.
3:42am:
I wish you would send a response. I’m worried about this, Jake. I’m worried that you might think this is something else. What, exactly, I don’t quite know. But I’m worried anyway.
3:43am:
What I *do* know is that I am falling for you. I’m falling hard.
3:44am:
The day you sent that first text, I felt there was something special in that. Your mistake was not a mistake. Maybe you didn’t send it on purpose, but I received it on purpose and that was all it took to establish this connection.
3:46am:
You can’t deny that something extraordinary exists here, Jake. We can both agree that neither of us has ever *experienced* the kind of passion and love that we feel whenever we are together. Right?
3:51am:
I admit that I’m a little scared about where this is headed. Scared about how it will all work out, without bankrupting us both, LOL. But mostly scared about how overwhelming and powerful these feelings are. You are still a stranger by conventional standards, but I feel like we have known each other for centuries. Like old souls.
3:57am:
Another thing? I am a believer. I believe in what we have and that this weekend’s hiccup will work itself out. I believe we will grow old and enjoy the same passion in 30 years that we enjoyed last weekend. I believe, above all, in us, in our love and this connection that most people spend their entire lives never knowing.
3:58am:
So if you’re a believer like I am and you feel even 1/2 as optimistic about our future as I do, then talk to me, Jake. We *are* soulmates, and just as I can’t survive without you, you can’t survive without me.
4:02am:
I guess all of that sounds a little psychotic since we haven’t known each other for an entire month yet, huh? LOL. It was meant to come across as romantic. Okay, maybe even sappy.
3:35pm:
Jake, this distance between us is tough. The silence has a compounding effect. Tell me what’s going on.
3:43pm:
Please.
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4:09pm:
I’m sorry, I have been busy trying to figure out a way to test if this is real... to test if we really are meant for each other.
4:10pm:
I blame it on the testing I did all week while building that portfolio. How’s that for a little psychotic?
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4:11pm:
Why would you question what we have? Was it not *real* enough when you were here?
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4:12pm:
I think if you really and truly love me, you would have figured out a way to make it to NYC.
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4:13pm:
I wish I could.
4:13pm:
But things are complicated.
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4:14pm:
So instead of waiting for you, I booked a flight to Toronto. I need to see you this weekend. I need to see if this real.
4:15pm:
It’s driving me crazy, Christine.
4:15pm:
Like maybe it’s not something I should be testing; maybe it’s ME that needs to be tested.
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4:17pm:
A test…?
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4:17pm:
So much has been working against us. My project. The sudden changes in your plans. It’s just too much, in my opinion. Something has to give...
--------------------------------------
4:18pm:
I don’t know what to say.
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4:19pm:
You can start with “I can’t wait to see you.”
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4:22pm:
What if it’s a test for me? I evidently failed.
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4:23pm:
I didn’t mean it like that.
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4:24pm:
I can’t see how else you could have *meant* it, Jake.
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4:26pm:
I’m standing in the lobby of your hotel. I brought my suitcase and flowers. If we can’t spend the weekend in NYC, then I wanted to be sure that I could spend it with you here. I came to you, Christine. Because I need you. I can’t survive without you.
4:33pm:
Hello?
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4:34pm:
I’m speechless, Jake. I can’t believe you are here.
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4:35pm:
You’re welcome.
--------------------------------------
4:37pm:
But I can’t spend the entire weekend with you. I can’t keep you at my hotel all weekend, because I have to work on that gas company’s US tax liabilities and figure out a legal way to fix them.
--------------------------------------
4:38pm:
I would love to sit and watch you work.
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4:40pm:
And I would love for you to sit and watch me, but we both know that when we’re together, neither of us will be satisfied if our hands are not all over the other person’s body. At least I hope you echo my sentiments ; )
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4:41pm:
Of course I do. But I can be a big boy and stay out of your way.
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4:42pm:
I’m sorry, Jake. Why don’t you get yourself another room at this end of the city. Like the Royal York so at 5pm when I get out of here, it’s really simple for me to get to you?
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4:43pm:
Or I can get a room here and I will be much more accessible to you all weekend... ; )
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4:44pm:
I am more interested in seeing you after work, Jake. Doesn’t that make sense? We’ll have more time together that way and it will save me from that long cab ride in rush-hour traffic.
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4:44pm:
Good point.
--------------------------------------
4:45pm:
I’ve told you before: I’m more than a just a pretty face!
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4:46pm:
Yes, I believe you mentioned that once or twice already.
4:46pm:
I’ll head over to your end of town and book a room.
--------------------------------------
4:47pm:
Perfect.
4:47pm:
I will see you at 5:03pm.
--------------------------------------
4:48pm:
It seems like an eternity.
--------------------------------------
4:49pm:
You’re telling me!
--------------------------------------
II
I put the iPhone on the table next to my bed and rub my eyes, which are dry and tired from reading so much on such a small screen.
Sitting up, I arc my back, which hurts from laying on my bed for the past few hours, and I notice that it’s dark outside. My curtains are wide open as if to invite the world to witness my instinctive actions while I read and do who-knows-what. They might have caught something I may not have wanted them to - an itch in an inconvenient location like my nose or butt
. I can be pretty un-lady-like when I think I’m alone.
Oh well, whatever they might have glimpsed is in the past, no point stressing over it now. After double-checking that the phone’s automatic locking feature is set to off, I shut the curtains and then head to the kitchen for a bite to eat. The flight home earlier today came with “complimentary food service” which included a snack-size bag of chips and a shot-glass of soda. I’m starving for a good reason.
The apartment I share with Chad and Ellie isn’t exactly roomy, but the kitchen accommodates a large refrigerator and a center island with enough seating space for six. All alone, I fry an egg and toast an English muffin. Not a bad dinner at nine o’clock on a Monday night.
Just as I bite into the muffin, I feel the vibration against my thigh. My first thought is I wonder if it’s Jake. But it’s my old phone, not the new iPhone. So now I feel a little crazy (I actually chuckle out loud) and grab my old Blackberry. The screen shows a message from Dad.
“Hope you made it home alright, honey.”
I text him back that I did.
“Good luck with that paper.”
I quietly curse him for the reminder.
Despite his mention of the term paper on cell mutation diseases that’s due this week, I am way more interested in getting back to the iPhone. I thank him, then abandon our conversation, slipping the Blackberry back into my pocket so I can finish my quick dinner.
While tidying up I wonder why I never receive stray texts from overqualified men like Jake. Judging by his photo, he’s a good-looking guy who takes care of himself and based on the frequent trips to Toronto (flights and accommodations alone probably set him back a thousand dollars per trip), he also comes with a good job. What woman wouldn’t take that package?
But something nags at me. The relationship between Jake and Christine has clearly changed in the week leading up to Jake’s second trip to Toronto. I can’t quite pin it down, but I sense that Jake’s sudden trip to Toronto has more to do with his distrust of Christine than his sexual appetite. Why doesn’t he trust her? What clues am I missing in their texts?
Back upstairs, I grab the iPhone and head to the bathroom for a quick pee, launching the jAppe application. Why in the world would Christine, a woman who claims to have found her soulmate, leave this phone in my taxi. The fact that she used jAppe to text back and forth with Jake suggests that she held their chats sacred. But sacred contradicts her forgetfulness with the iPhone.
Unless she’s done with Jake altogether and wants to pass him along to some other woman. What a nice idea, Christine... thank you!
All that talk about “signs” and a “higher purposes” between the two of them gets me thinking some more - maybe the iPhone is my sign.
I finish up in the bathroom and head back to my room. Settling back into bed (I glance over at the curtains to make sure they’re closed) I scroll to their last exchange. I can’t help but imagine myself in Christine’s place, heading into a second weekend filled with deeply satisfying sex and the romantic promise of spending some quality time with Jake. I imagine the impatience of waiting for those last few minutes at work to trickle away and of course the anticipatory anxiety that often accompanies the knowledge that I’m going to get laid. My legs tingle just thinking about it.
And that’s when it hits me. Christine has a secret. That bullshit about being happy he travelled to Toronto combined with her insistence that he stay at another hotel at the other of the city. I don’t buy it, not for one minute.
She has been keeping something from Jake this whole time and I think it’s something big. It annoys me that she could do this, or that I didn’t figure it out sooner... or maybe it’s just that I hate that Jake figured it out before I did; I’m a med student, I’m supposed to pick up on clues like this.
Clues that tell me the bitch is screwing someone else.
Friday January 25, 2013 (Continued)
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4:58pm:
On my way over.
--------------------------------------
4:58pm:
Meet me in the lobby, same place as last time?
--------------------------------------
4:59pm:
How about your room?
--------------------------------------
5:00pm:
I’m a little hungry...
--------------------------------------
5:01pm:
Can I leave my laptop there while we go out?
--------------------------------------
5:02pm:
Of course. But you will need to help me restrain myself from jumping all over you. Dinner first.
--------------------------------------
5:03pm:
I’ll see what I can do to help!
5:05pm:
But maybe I want you to jump all over me? Maybe I’m more in the mood for getting jumped than eating...
--------------------------------------
5:06pm:
Fucking cruel, Christine.
--------------------------------------
5:08pm:
Cruel is having to stare at you from across the table at some public restaurant for the next two hours instead of making love to you.
5:09pm:
Okay, I’m here. Where are you?
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Saturday January 26, 2013
--------------------------------------
7:32am:
Where did you go?
--------------------------------------
7:37am:
I’m sorry, I needed to get away.
7:38am:
I’m back at my hotel for the sleep I’m sure I never would have gotten if I stayed the night.
--------------------------------------
7:39am:
I need you.
7:40am:
Now.
--------------------------------------
7:42am:
Let me recover. A bit of sleep is all I need.
--------------------------------------
7:43am:
I’m coming over.
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7:45am:
Please, I need some sleep. You tortured me all week with your flirty texts and then pumped up the passion level a few too many notches last night… I’m sore and more than just a little exhausted.
--------------------------------------
7:46am:
Plllleeeeaasseee? : )
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7:47am:
Give me three hours. That’s all I need.
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7:47am:
Two.
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7:48am:
Three, then I’m all yours for the rest of the day.
--------------------------------------
7:48am:
Deal.
7:49am:
Sweet dreams.
--------------------------------------
7:49am:
I love you, Jake.
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Sunday January 27, 2013
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10:47pm:
Christine, I have a confession to make. I know I told you that our helicopter trip to Niagara Falls was the most memorable part of my weekend. But I was lying.
10:50pm:
You there?
10:54pm:
OK, so the truth is that waking up next you this morning was a million times more breathtaking than those falls, the wax museum and haunted house all combined (not that you’re scary!). I enjoyed those things, sure, but it was nothing compared to watching you sleep. You looked so peaceful.
10:55pm:
I wondered what it would be like to wake up to your sleeping face every morning for the rest of my l
ife and I have to admit that it would be the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I wish I could wake up to you tomorrow - I bet Monday’s would actually become tolerable if I could!
Textual Encounters (The Christine + Jake Affair) Page 8