Gravitate

by Jo Duchemin

  “Have I ever done anything to make you think I would want to hurt you in any way?” He cupped my face in his hands.

  “No,” I tried to catch my breath. “Not until I heard this.”

  “Would you believe me if I told you I always had your best interests at heart?”

  “Yes.” I could only manage one word answers now.

  “And would you understand that sometimes the thing that is in your best interests is not the same as what is in my heart?”

  “Huh?” He’d lost me, and in spite of the situation, I laughed at my response.

  “Dear Claudia. Dear, sweet, funny, delicate Claudia. Who would have thought that little Claudia Lee would be my undoing?” He wiped the tears off my cheeks again.

  “I wouldn’t want to hurt you,” I whispered.

  “I think the damage is already done. I’ve broken the only rule I had to keep.” He looked so serious; it looked like he was in pain.

  “What rule was that?”

  “I wasn’t meant to fall in love with you.”

  “You are? I feel the same way about you.” I beamed despite my tears.

  “Shhh. You can’t say it to me. Please.”

  “I don’t understand. Who made this rule?” It had all seemed so bright a moment ago.

  “To explain that, would be to explain why I’m here. And I don’t know if I can do that. If they find out, it could jeopardise my very existence. Whatever you do, Claudia, do not tell me that you love me. Will you promise me that?”

  “Of course. I trust you.” Despite knowing so little about him, I trusted him completely. He’d left me with more questions than answers, but it didn’t matter. I had the only answer that mattered. He loved me. I moved my hands up his chest and linked them around the back of his neck; his hands slid down to my waist. Our bodies felt so right pressed up together, heartbeats falling into step. We stared into each other’s eyes, and our lips moved closer. Our breathing was synchronised. The rest of the world, and all the obstacles in our way, were instantly forgotten the moment we kissed. Nothing else mattered. We were together.

  Chapter 5

  I woke up the next morning enveloped in warm, fuzzy feelings. It had been real. He loved me. I breathed in the morning air, with a wonderful feeling that all was right with the world. I had questions, but there were no answers that would change the way I felt. The clouds had parted and the sunlight filtered into my world.

  I rolled over and saw Marty, awake, on the other side of the bed, but on top of the duvet I was underneath. The last night drifted back through my memories. My anger, his honesty, and the kissing. Lots and lots of kissing. He’d carried me up the stairs and we’d kissed until I fell asleep in his arms. I knew, without looking, that I was still fully dressed. Our connection was more than just physical. A love like ours needed no rushing, as it knew no time.

  “Good morning.” Marty’s wide eyes smiled at me.

  “Good morning. I’m glad you’re still here.” I couldn’t hide my excitement at his presence.

  “I’m glad to be here. I’ve never been more glad to be somewhere in my whole existence.” His dimples became more pronounced.

  “I’ve never been more glad to see anyone in my room in the morning.”

  “I’m not imposing? You wouldn’t let go of me last night, I didn’t want to wake you up.”

  “I don’t ever want to let go of you. You will never be imposing on me.”

  “Well, I certainly don’t want to go anywhere. Aren’t you even bothered that I haven’t told you any details?”

  I straightened myself upright, so that I could look into his eyes. “The details are minor. You love me, I feel the same but I’m not allowed to say. Some people might say it is the perfect set up – you could have a million girlfriends, all sworn to secrecy, none of us aware of each other!”

  Marty looked offended. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone, you’re the only one for me.”

  “I know, I know, I was joking. I’m in an odd situation. Joking is my way of coping.” I tugged the duvet closer around me, wishing it was his arms.

  “Sorry, Claudia, I just hate you thinking I would ever do you wrong. It goes against every fibre in my being.” He moved over and held me in his arms. We breathed together for a few minutes.

  “So, what can you tell me?” I was curious to know everything I could, despite knowing anything he said wouldn’t change the way I felt about him.

  “It’s complicated. Please remember, whatever I say, I’ve never meant you any harm and I’ve always been working in your best interests.”

  “Of course.” I kissed him gently. “Please, tell me something.”

  “What have you figured out for yourself already?”

  “Not much. I know you were trying to push me into a relationship with Ben, even though I was falling for you and you felt the same way for me. I know you have an uncanny reaction time for catching me when I fall. I know you’re the most gentle, well meaning and humble person I’ve ever come across.”

  “I don’t know how much I can tell you. I’m sorry for trying to lead you towards Ben – I thought I was acting in your best interests. I don’t feel good for not telling you everything, telling lies is not in my nature at all. I feel so wonderfully happy being with you like this, yet I feel selfish and guilty. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before.” He looked down, and wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  “You’ve never been in love before?”

  “Never. Have you? I shouldn’t even be asking that. Please forgive me, I can’t seem to control myself around you.”

  “That’s a perfectly normal question, why shouldn’t you ask it?”

  “I shouldn’t be asking you that question.” Marty emphasised the word ‘you’. “I shouldn’t even be having this conversation with you. I should have left when I realised I was falling for you, but I thought I could handle it and now, I don’t want to leave. I guess I’m not as self-sacrificing as I thought.” Marty held his head in his hands.

  “Marty, I’ve never been in love before either, but I honestly don’t see what the problem is. You’re not married or anything are you?” I tried to make it a joke.

  “Definitely not. I’m just not meant to feel this way about you. I’m going against everything I’ve known before I met you. And, for once in my life, I don’t know what will happen next.”

  “Do you usually know what happens next?”

  “Let’s just say, I’m normally very intuitive. I do have a feeling that we’re on borrowed time. I can’t say I see a happy ending waiting for us as a couple.” He rubbed his temples and lines furrowed his brow. I’d never seen him looking so concerned. “I can’t pull myself away from you for my sake, but if you asked me to leave, I’d go right now. I’d do anything for you.”

  “Why can’t we have a happy ending?” I could feel my eyes glazing over with tears, but they hadn’t spilled over yet.

  “I just can’t see it – but then again, things aren’t clear for me when I’m around you. In the pub the other day, I should have seen the danger building up and taken you away before it began, but I just didn’t recognise the signs. I was so angry with myself for putting you in danger. I want to shelter you from harm, but I was so distracted by you that I couldn’t see what was coming.” He cast his eyes down. I didn’t know what to say to him. He took a deep breath and continued: “It’s as though being with you stops me from being my usual self. Everything used to be mundane and I knew where I stood, but with you it’s as though everything is exciting, but scary. My life before you was in black and white, and now it’s all colour.” Marty smiled, then immediately returned to a serious expression. “I can’t see how this can work for us – much as I’d love nothing more than to stay with you forever. You should find another man and have a proper life where you won’t have to hide your feelings.”

  “I d
on’t want another man. I want you. I don’t care if I can’t tell you how I feel, as long as you know how I feel. And if we are on borrowed time, well they say it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all – after the year I’ve had I certainly know that’s true. I lost my parents and I didn’t know how I would live past that, but I wouldn’t take away one second of the time I spent with them. If we are on borrowed time, I want to make the most of it. I know you can’t tell me everything about you, and there is a lot of stuff that isn’t making sense to me at the moment, but being with you makes me feel happier than anything else. I’m not going to give up on a chance of happiness.”

  “You don’t even know what I am.”

  “I know what you’re not. You’re not like any of the other men I’ve met. And you’re not going to tell me what you are, so I’m not going to waste any more of our time worrying about it. Perhaps ignorance is bliss.”

  “You’re prepared for it all to end some day?”

  “There are no guarantees in life. Everything ends some day.”

  “In that case, I’ll be with you until I’m forced to leave.”

  I’d told myself, and Marty, that it didn’t matter to me if I didn’t know the details about him, but once I was alone, thoughts tumbled around my head. Marty had gone down to the kitchen to make breakfast and the time away from him forced my mind to consider what I’d gotten myself into. I had fallen deeply and although I wanted to believe that ignorance was bliss, I couldn’t avoid the unanswered questions that echoed in my brain. Whilst brushing my teeth, snippets of our conversations and the things he had reportedly said to Ben, cart-wheeled around my head. I recalled the partial discussion I’d overheard on the day he gave me the locket I was absentmindedly playing with. At the time, I’d thought he had been talking about an assignment for his course. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, I wondered if there was more to what he’d said than I’d realised.

  What troubled me the most was that Marty had said I didn’t know what he was. Not, who, but what. I trusted him implicitly, yet now the truth was sinking in – Marty wasn’t like me, he was something different. Whatever he was, he certainly wasn’t a student.

  I didn’t want to push Marty to tell me why he was different – clearly there was something stopping him from being upfront that was beyond his control – but he had asked what I had already figured out. He’d also said that telling lies went against his nature. I wondered if I could unravel enough of the mystery to understand why he felt we were on borrowed time.

  My heart raced as I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. I didn’t want him to feel I was going back on our previous conversation, but I desperately wanted to know more about him. The smell of frying eggs and hot, buttered toast wafted to my nostrils, and I could hear Marty humming to himself. At least he was in a good mood.

  “Marty, can I ask a few questions? Just some things I’ve been wondering about – I’m not changing my mind or anything.” I felt shy again, as he gave me a happy grin.

  “Of course and I will try to answer them as well as I can.” Marty switched off the stove and turned to face me.

  “Are you really a student?” His happy face showed an instant transformation into a serious one.

  “No, I’m not still a medical student. I did take on that role, but it isn’t who I am.”

  “That’s fine with me, but can you tell me what you were studying at the library last night?” I was trying my hardest to keep my voice light, I didn’t want him to think I was interrogating him.

  “Last night was personal research – seeing if my case was unprecedented. Which it is. I’m not a student. I qualified many years ago. I could walk through the tasks for a medical student with my eyes closed.” I could see the dilemma on his face – he desperately wanted to tell me everything, keeping this secret was clearly painful for him.

  “That’s handy to know, what with me being so clumsy and everything!” We both smiled at my joke. “So, why are you pretending to be a student?”

  “It sounds terrible when you put it like that. It was the right thing to do, at the time. It was a way to get close to you.” He looked ashamed and focused back on the food, placing toast and eggs on the plates with far more care than necessary.

  “You wanted to get close to me from the start?” I felt so confused, I thought he’d been fighting off his attraction to me.

  “Not in a romantic sense. I was trying to gain your trust. This is sounding worse and worse. I’m not some seedy, lecherous man, you have to believe that.” He concentrated on putting the plates on the table.

  “Marty,” I put one of my hands on his hand and with the other I brushed his cheek, forcing him to meet my eyes, “I know you. I could never think badly of you. I know there is a lot more going on here than I can figure out on my own. Part of me hopes that if I know what your secret is, then perhaps we can make sure of our happy ending.”

  “I know, baby. Keep thinking about it. Ask any questions you like. Just remember not to tell me you love me, and when we’re outside of the house, we have to act like we’re just friends. Nobody can know how we really feel about each other. It’s one thing for me to be in love with you, but quite another for you to reciprocate. If they found out…well, I wouldn’t be here with you anymore.”

  “We’re alright inside the house though?” I didn’t want to accept these rules with no questions asked, but I didn’t want Marty to disappear from my life either.

  “As long as there is no evidence of your attachment to me, I can remain here. Eat your breakfast, honey, it’s getting cold.”

  “I don’t know quite how we go from talking about people finding out about my feelings and you disappearing from my life to suddenly thinking about breakfast,” I giggled, in spite of the situation, “but I have to say, this smells amazing, thank you for cooking for me. I’ve never had a man make me breakfast before.”

  “I’d do anything for you, you know that.”

  We’d eaten the breakfast whilst chatting easily. Marty had revealed that he was actually working as a doctor at a cancer hospice, looking after people who were nearing the end of their lives. It was something he found fulfilling, and close enough to what he’d told me he did, that it eased his guilt about not telling me the whole truth. He’d signed up for longer and longer shifts when he’d felt himself falling for me; a tactic to avoid spending too much time alone with me. He had a shift today that would last all day, but he said he couldn’t wait to get home to see me in the evening. As he left the house, I felt he looked far too young and handsome to be a fully qualified doctor.

  I found myself worrying less and less about his secret when I was around him, only to find that the moment he left I was wondering and wandering aimlessly through the questions that were left unanswered, never being able to unravel the mystery. I got the feeling that Marty would be relieved if I could work out his secret, that he hated not being able to be totally honest with me.

  I had two lectures that day, one for drama and one for English, split with a two and a half hour gap. Having not been in the frame of mind for making friends at the start of the academic year, I didn’t have a group of people that I knew very well in any of my lectures. Everybody was polite and kind, and I always had a partner to work with, or a group to discuss topics with: but whereas everyone else was young, living away from home and having a great time, I’d felt like I’d aged a decade since my parents died and I no longer fitted into that world. I hated lunchtimes and breaks in lectures the most – the conversations seemed trivial and unimportant to me, the excitement and funny stories bore no relevance or resemblance to my life. I’d started spending more and more time in the library, which had a good reflection on my essay grades. In a way, I’d started feeling detached from my choice of degree – I’d always loved singing and acting, especially when I was in a show and my parents came to watch; that wasn’t ever going to happen for
me anymore. I hadn’t sung at all since the accident.

  I didn’t have a choice in avoiding singing today. The first lecture was part of a module on Musical Theatre. This had been my favourite type of acting before my parents had died. Our lecturer, Donna, told us we would be working towards putting on a show of a musical called ‘Starlet’ and we would be graded on our teamwork, as well as our performance. She looked pointedly at me when she said, “Drama is an active subject, you can’t read and write your way through this, you have to act your way through it.” I wanted the ground to swallow me up. We all had to learn the words to the main song ‘Starlet’ and then she would be deciding on a cast list by next week. I found the whole situation difficult – the words of the song stuck in my throat, especially the line about ‘from crib to grave, time doesn’t behave, death wins every time’ and the last thing I felt like doing was performing in front of so many people I barely knew. There were two reasons I didn’t quit right there and then: I didn’t want Donna to think she had beaten me, and I didn’t want my peers to think of me as the poor orphan.

  We had to learn a short section of a dance, which came easily to me. In a way, I found it easier to immerse myself in the movement than to memorise the words of the song. My head was swimming with thoughts of Marty’s secret, but focusing on learning the choreography offered me a brief respite.

  Once we’d all learnt the song and the dance, we had to perform, one by one, in front of each other. I just desperately wanted to get this over with, so I volunteered to go first – something I would have never done before. Previously, I would like to see other people audition, so I could gage how to perform and what chances I would have of getting a plum role. Now, I just didn’t care. I belted out the number, ignoring the knotted feeling in my stomach, refusing to let my nerves or tears appear; using that brave façade I had mastered during the past few weeks. When I got to the end of the song, my classmates gave me a polite round of applause, and I guessed it couldn’t have been that bad. The dance solo was less stressful; again, it was a case of getting through it as painlessly as possible. This audition was so alien to me – in the past I would have given my all, desperate to win a lead role. It had always meant so much to me, but now it was meaningless. Being in the chorus would be plenty: I no longer cared for the spotlight.