The Art of Dating

by Messe, Ellie

  His question catches me off guard, my words tumbling out in response, “I don’t know, yeah? Why are you asking that?”

  “Do I love you?”

  A nice little fissure starts at the base of my heart, last night he said he did. “Yes.”

  His lip curls as he shakes his head, “And you still don’t know who to choose?” His features turn angry as he marches towards me, “You didn’t have to think about my answer, you already knew. You questioned his. Here’s another one for you, does he love everything about you? The way you chew on your lip when you’re nervous, or the way you ramble on about books or find it endearing the way you light up when you see food? Or what about this, does he make you a better person or does he shut you down until you seek refuge in oversized clothing, hiding behind glasses and messy hair. Because what I see in front of me is a far cry from what I met five months ago.”

  I search for words, for answers to his questions; I try to get anything out of my mouth while my eyes sting with unshed tears.

  “He cheated, Devina. How can you still want that piece of shit?”

  Pressing my hand against my forehead, I beg anyone who will listen to press pause on my life, to give me a few minutes to deal and understand. I hear everything he’s saying, I do, but I’ve gotten myself into a serious hole right now, and I’m panicking.

  “And all this means nothing.” He sighs, hurt and frustration roll off him in waves.

  “It means everything,” I whisper, cause it does. It holds a weight I’ve never felt before.

  “Apparently not because your still not seeing it.”

  It’s like he’s talking in code, “Seeing what?”

  “That I’m the better man! That I’ll never do to you what he did! That there isn’t a single thing about you that I’m not completely and utterly in love with.”

  “It’s only been five months.” I voice out loud; it’s not enough time to feel that way about someone.

  He pulls back slightly, “Do you love me?”

  I feel my eyes expand at his question; I’m not ready to answer that, my mouth once again opens and closes as I search for the answer.

  “If I walk out that door right now and never come back, how would you feel?”

  Devastated, abandoned, like a piece of me would go with him. But, I also feel that way about Amy. How do I find the lines when I’m still trying to comprehend everything at once?

  He laughs without humor, “Nice.”

  “Logan,” I try, but he raises his hand to silence me.

  “It’s cool. You got him back, just like you wanted.”

  Pushing past me, I try to catch his arm, but it slips through my fingers, “Please, don’t leave.” I rush after him, “I don’t know how I feel. Everything's happening so fast, and I can’t keep up. Don’t take my silence as an answer just because it’s what you want to hear.”

  Spinning around so quickly I nearly run into his chest, as he holds the knob of the door, ‘What I want to hear? You think I want to hear that you love that worthless piece of shit more than me? You think I want to hear silence after telling you I’m in love with you?”

  “That’s not what I meant; I’m just asking you not to take my silence as an answer to anything. It’s easier for you to get mad than understand I have things I need to think through.”

  “That’s the problem,” He says in an eerily steady tone, “There isn’t anything to think about; I love you, he doesn’t. I raised you up; he tore you down. I give, he takes. But it’s fine, Devina, you need time? Take it, but don’t blame anyone but yourself when the harsh reality of what’s behind that door slaps you in the face and I’m no longer here.”

  “I’m not choosing anyone right now; I just need to sort everything out.”

  “Good thing there isn’t a choice to make any more.”

  His words chill through the fabric of my robe; frost blooms in intricate designs against my skin, while my chest gets encased in ice.

  “What do you mean by that?” My words come out hoarse and low as fear chokes me.

  With the twist of the knob, he yanks it open, his eyes hold mine, engraving his anger and pain onto my soul as he talks to Cole, “She's all yours. Might want to let her shower me off first.”

  It’s like I’ve been shot in the chest, my breath is knocked from my lungs in a jolt of pain. Tearing his eyes away from me, he pushes through the stairwell door.

  Silent tears slip down my cheeks as I stare after him, not even the echoing thud of the heavy metal door closing is enough to pull my gaze away.

  “Hey, you okay?” Cole asks, his hands feel foreign and unwelcome as they slide up and down my arms.

  Shrugging myself free of his hands, I retreat inside. I make it to the corner of the kitchen counter before my body halts from the excruciating pain surging through my veins, poisoning my body with every beat of my heart.

  “Hey?” He tilts my face up, and I pull it out of his hands, “Dee.” He laughs grabbing my chin again. “You did the right thing.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Dumping that loser.” He nods to the door and then smirks.

  “I didn’t dump him,” I groan, trying to free my face but he holds tight. “Let go, Cole.”

  “I just got you back, Dee.” He says with a smile I no longer long to see, “I just want to,” His eyes drop to my lips before I have a chance to stop it, he seals his mouth over mine.

  It’s wet and uninvited; it’s a strange realization to find my body rejecting him just as hard as my affections.

  Pulling away, I grab his hands and pull hard, “How does Logan taste?”

  He stops fighting me, releasing my face immediately. “Ew, Devina, what the hell?”

  His face curls in disgust as he steps away from me. I have absolutely no remorse to offer. “Do you want to order us some food or something?” He plops down on my couch like a potato. When I don’t answer, he stops fumbling with the remote long enough to look up at me. “What?”

  “Why are you here?” I ask, not recognizing my own voice.

  “You told me to come by.”

  “After you showed up unannounced. What did you want?”

  “Well,” His shoulders drawing back, “I wanted to talk to you, about us.”

  “What us?” I laugh without humor.

  Sensing my lack of interest, he sets the remote down and slowly stands as if I’m a wounded animal. “There’s always been an us, Dee.”

  “Was there an us when you were fucking Monica Claire?”

  My use of the word 'fuck' makes his eyes bulge, “I don’t know what you're asking.”

  “Was. There. An. Us. While you were bent over that whore in our bed? Or when you moved her into my apartment? Was there an us when you decided to cheat on me?”

  “Hey, Dee. Look, that’s the other reason I wanted to talk to you. I made a mistake, a foolish, selfish, unforgivable mistake.” I nod along in agreement. “And for that, I am so sorry.”

  We both go silent; he stares at me while I stare at the wall behind him. “I think it stopped being a mistake the moment you made the decision to do it,” I say with a sudden air of clarity.

  “Wha- what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying it stopped being a mistake when you chose her over me.” My eyes fall to his, “Not only did you go through with it, but you continued to do so. How long were you cheating on me before I caught you?”

  His eyes plead with me, “Please don’t ask that.”

  “How long?”

  He takes a deep breath and blows it out through his nose, “After her second novel.”

  I gasp, blinking hard to make sure I’m awake, “That was three years ago.”

  He nods, “I don’t know why it happened or why it continued...it just did.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? Or break up with me? What was the point of keeping me around?”

  He shrugs, “I knew you wouldn’t leave.”

  “Excuse me?” I ask in genu
ine shock, “I did leave.”

  “No you didn’t, not really. You kept us as your profile picture for months; you never told anyone we broke up and you didn’t ask me to leave until you started seeing that rich guy. I knew this,” He points to air between us, “Was going to happen. You love me, Devina. I knew that if I just got it out of my system you’d take me back, at that point, I could give you myself completely.”

  “So because I loved you that was permission to treat me that way?”

  “Don’t act like the only victim here, okay. I messed up but so did you.”

  I pull back, appalled, “How?”

  “You let yourself go; you climbed into your stupid little books, stopped going out. You changed.”

  “When have you ever known me to be anyone other than who I am? I never liked going out, that was always what you wanted, and I stopped caring about my appearance because you’d get angry if anyone looked my way because to you, I was dressing up to impress other people, that I was fishing for compliments from other guys.

  Jesus, I’ve been blind this whole time. It’s like the blindfold has been lifted as everything falls into place. It was never my choice to stop doing these things; it was done to avoid an argument. I altered myself to fit him, a triangle peg trying to fit into a square hole. We were never more than a show, a grand game of pretend. God, I’m such an idiot.

  I realize he’s yelling about something when I interrupt, “It’s time for you to go.”

  Stepping to the threshold, I pull the door open, meeting his eyes.

  “What the hell happened to you these last couple of months? I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

  “That’s because you never did.”

  “What?”

  I smile at the ground, a true genuine smile.

  “What are you smiling at?”

  “I just realized something that took entirely too long to see.” My smile grows as my heart warms my chest, waking the butterflies in my stomach, “You need to leave.”

  “And what’d you realize?” His body posed in challenge.

  “That I’m in love with Logan.” I smile at him.

  His face turns a nasty shade of red, the veins in his neck raising with the increased blood flow, “You whore.”

  “I hope you find peace, Cole. And love, and happiness, and all that other stuff, I really do. But you’re a square hole, and I just don’t fit.”

  “What’d you call me?”

  “It’s time for you to leave.”

  “Fuck that! I’m not leaving.”

  “Kay, well lock up when you leave then.”

  Still, in my bare feet and robe, I shut the door, running for the stairwell. Taking two steps at a time, I race down the flights, convinced my feet will get me to Logan faster than the elevator. I just hope Caleb is still caught up in morning traffic; he never had time to call him and arrange to be picked up.

  Breaking through the lobby floor my heart beats painfully in my chest as my lungs scream for oxygen, ignoring the burn of my muscles, I race through, completely unfazed by the looks around me until I’m outside. My head swivels up and down the street, desperate to find him. Please don’t be too late.

  There. I see a shiny black car, the back door open as someone steps inside.

  “Logan!” I yell with everything I have, pushing past the congested sidewalk.

  The closer I get the more I can see him, one leg steps inside, the other holding his body upright, as his head swivels in my direction. “Logan!”

  His eyes find mine, an incredulous smile playing on his lips. His hand bounces off the roof of the car while he shakes his head and then

  climbs

  into

  the

  back.

  “Wait!” I cry, pushing harder to get through, “Logan!”

  It’s not too late; it can’t be. Finding no mercy in the crowd, I shove my way to the street just in time to see them pull away.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  When I got back to my apartment, Cole was gone.

  Grabbing my phone I tried Logan about a thousand times, each unanswered call more painful than the last. Still, I dragged clothes over my body, locked up the apartment and hailed a cab.

  I feel like I’m running on autopilot as I hand the cabbie my fare and climb out in front of Logan’s building.

  Realizing I don’t have an access key, I mask my features and approach the desk.

  “Hi.” I smile cheerfully, “I forgot my keycard for the elevator.”

  “Name?”

  “Devina Anderson,” I say, looking over the counter trying to get a peek at her screen. With mild annoyance, she twists the screen away. “I come in almost every day to see Logan Devitt.”

  “I know who you are.” She replies in a bored tone. “You aren’t listed as an authorized user.”

  “I know. I was using his driver card before.”

  Picking up the receiver her red painted nails punch in a four number code, “Mr. Devitt. This is Charlene at the front desk. There is a Miss Devina Anderson here for you, sir. She says she misplaced her access key, shall I make her another?” Her eyes shoot to mine while she listens to whatever he’s saying before darting away, “I understand, sir. Enjoy the rest of your day. Uh huh, you too. Bye-Bye.”

  Hanging up the receiver she avoids eye contact, “Mr. Devitt isn’t expecting any appointments today.”

  “That’s bullshit.” I snap, drawing her stricken gaze to mine, “Call him again, let me talk to him.”

  “Absolutely not.” She puffs her chest, “Now I suggest you leave before I have you escorted out.”

  I growl, pulling at my hair as I look around. Someone has to rent out the other apartment on his floor; maybe if I hang out on the elevator long enough, someone's bound to go up there right? Except there are four elevators, they could take any of them leaving me with a twenty-five percent chance they’ll choose mine.

  Just as I start to turn away, I hear the same loud thud that rings in my apartment day and night. Twisting, I catch sight of the stairs through a small rectangular window. I don’t need anymore thought, in the event of an emergency they aren’t going to make someone scan a card to get to the stairs.

  Hope blooms in my stomach, he’ll have to open the door eventually.

  “Miss Anderson.” The clerk calls in a clipped tone, “Miss Anderson.”

  Pulling the door open, I glance over my shoulder long enough to see her raise the phone to her ear, her eyes pinned on mine. I cock a smile and race forward.

  On the second floor, I jumped into the hall and called an elevator in the event she was calling security. Selecting the little seventeen, I pray for a miracle, the scan device blinks red. Damn. Moving down each floor, I wait until one lights up.

  The fourteen lights up allowing me to breathe a sigh of relief at only being three floors below him. I bounce from one foot to the other as I impatiently wait for it stop. Thankfully, no one in suits and earpieces jumps out at me when the doors pull away to the fourteenth floor. Nervously glancing over my shoulder, I jog across the hall to the stair access door.

  My legs burn, but I push forward until I see a large seventeen painted in thick black letters against the brick wall. I can’t help the smile that engulfs my face, making this last flight the easiest. It fades just as quick when I tug on the door to no avail. The sound of metal slamming into metal echoes around me. It’s locked. The fucking emergency door is locked.

  Frustration wraps a noose around my neck, cutting off my rational thought. I pull, I push, I kick, pound and beat on the door while tears of frustration blur my vision.

  Logan’s apartment is on the side of the hall so he probably can’t even hear me beating the crap out of myself against the door.

  My arms sting and my legs ache as my body slowly slides down to the door. I will him to come outside, to sense my presence.

  Pulling my phone out of my pocket, red, stiff, fingers unlock the device, calling his phone once again.

 
Approaching footsteps from the flight below sends my heart racing. Closing my eyes, I feel the tears fall as I will him to answer. I just need a second, one tiny, insignificant second in this world of time.

  “Seventeenth-floor stairwell.” A man speaks at my feet, “I found her.”

  “I just need to talk to him.” I sob, still pressing the phone against my ear.

  “You need to leave, Miss.”

  “I just need one second. Please.” I open my eyes, begging him to make the exception, “Please, just get him out here.”

  He doesn’t reply as he reaches down, taking my arm into his hands and lifting me to my feet.

  “Please, I made a mistake.” I cry, “I should have told him I loved him this morning, but I just didn’t see it. Please, help me.”

  “Down we go.” He says, steering me down the stairs. Looking over my shoulder, I beg the world to make him appear, but he never shows.

  Mr. Security Guard uses an access key on the sixteenth floor, allowing us to use the elevator to the ground floor where I’m walked out like some hobo who drinks too much. But that’s not enough; he holds onto my arm until a cab pulls to the curb. Opening the door, he continues to hold me until I’m fully seated.

  I give my address to the cabbie through hiccupped sobs while the man shuts my door.

  Giving up on trying to call him, I open my messages,

  ME: It’s you, it’s always been you. I was just too blind to see it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Today…

  So you can see what I’m talking about when I say that one action broke two hearts. One stupid, insignificant moment of silence destroyed everything; I destroyed everything.

  Logan won’t answer his phone; he won’t text back. I can’t get to his apartment, especially since I was escorted out yesterday, and I don’t know where Caleb parks the car or what he does when he’s not playing chauffeur. I’m all out of options, and I’ve never felt as helpless as I do in this moment.

  What’s wrong with me? How could I have not seen this? Logan was there from the start, he never once tried to change me or force me to be someone I wasn’t; he gave me the tools needed for me to find myself. How was I able to stand in front of him and not see the fact that I love him? How was it possible to be so naive? So spoiled and ignorant? Logan poured his heart out to me and what did I do? I threw it back in his face so I could give some nobody the time of day? Logan was right; there was never an option. It’s him; it’s Logan, Cole never stood a chance.