One Swinging Summer: (Corrupted 1-4)

by Klaire, Jamie

  'Say no, say no,' my heart begged him. 'Tell me you already know. Tell me you want me with you on your birthday. Doing something special. That it was different when we didn't care about each other. That you don't need the clubs either. That I am enough.'

  "OK, if you are sure."

  'Fuck.' I thought.

  "I'm sure." I said.

  "How does this work? We ride to the club separately, and at midnight we say "Goodbye, have fun. See ya later?" He asks.

  "Yeah, I guess. We can't ride together, obviously. You need a car to get there and to get home after. I'd need my own car to go home. I can't wait at your house until you come home." I said all of this in shock. I didn't think he would agree. I thought he would think it was a stupid idea.

  As we tried to work out the logistics, I realized there was only one way to handle this.

  "We need to break up."

  He looked at me hard again.

  "It's the only thing that makes sense. You can't go there knowing you have a girlfriend waiting on you. You have to really understand. To decide you want this life means we can't stay together. To stay together means you can't have this life. We break up now. I go home. We don't call or text each other. We run into each other at The Normal Club. We can be friendly, dance with each other. But we are broken up, so we can dance with others. Flirt with others. Then at midnight you head over with Michael and Kate. You have a great birthday. Do whatever you feel you need to do, single. See how it goes. Call me the next day or so and we will see where we are."

  I laid it all out there for him, hoping he would change his mind. Hoping that made it real, that he'd say, 'Never mind, I don't want to break up. I know just from hearing about breaking up that I can give the club up. Of course you are what I want. I was just thrown off by the offer. Stay with me tonight. Don't leave. I love you and this is stupid.'

  He didn't. He agreed that what I said made sense. After that, it seemed awkward to stay. He walked me to the door and said, "Before we break up..." He took me in his arms and kissed me senseless. The kiss was slow, thorough, and deep with longing.

  After the kiss we separated and shook hands, making our breakup official.

  I got into my car and made it about five blocks before I broke down in tears, sobbing the whole way home.

  Chapter 40

  “Spilled Perfume”

  I sang Pam Tillis' song "Spilled Perfume" loud and soulful. There's something about older country music that gets right to the heart of it.

  I was wearing out this track, the CD had been set to repeat. I long ago lost count of how many times it played.

  I woke on Sunday morning with a crying hangover. My eyes were swollen, my throat was parched, my head throbbed with my heartbeat and it took everything I had to drag myself out of bed just to pee. I thought about taking some Tylenol, making some breakfast, but even thinking about doing the actions wore me out. I went back to bed instead.

  On Monday I made it to the couch. That was it, my grand accomplishment for the day. I was actually proud of myself. I numbly watched TV all day. I knew if I turned it off, even for a minute, I would think. I was avoiding thinking with everything I had. Thinking was overrated anyway.

  On Tuesday the thinking started. Or the self-abuse, really. What in the hell had I been thinking? I had him. He'd agreed not to go to the clubs anymore. Stupid, stupid, stupid. My head kept up a constant barrage. 'Why, why, why did you have to say, "You should go?" You don't turn a man loose in a sex club. Are you crazy? And single, too? What the hell?'

  My heart was ready with a response. A quiet, broken, sad response, but a response all the same. 'I need to be sure. I need a man who loves me, who will walk across oceans of broken glass to get to me. A man who recognizes that I am better than a room full of naked strangers and anonymous sex. I am worthy. I need real. I need love, and I won't settle for less.'

  That shut my mind up fast. No way to argue with that. I took advantage of the silence and took my first shower in days.

  Which brought me to Wednesday. Driving and working. And singing. Badly but loud.

  Thursday was just empty. No singing, no crawling back into bed. Just functioning. Mindless, empty, robotic.

  So... Friday. Oh joy.

  Tonight is the night I get to see Caleb, single, in the normal club, and wave at him as he heads off to do whatever in That Other Club. The night I get to go home alone, and wonder what he is doing, and who he is doing it with. On his birthday, no less. Yeah, this should be a great night. Can't wait.

  I try to put some thought into getting dressed for my night out. I want to look good, to stick in his mind as he tries That Other Club without me. But my heart isn't in it. I figure if I don't stick in his mind by now, it's hopeless. No new outfit is going to make a difference. I dress casual instead, jeans and a T-shirt. Maybe the-girl-next-door look will be different enough to get his attention. Whatever. I tell myself I don't care anyway. I don't have anger to wrap myself in tonight, so I wrap myself as best I can in numbness and indifference. Que sera sera, right? Whatever will be, will be.

  I arrive early at the normal club, not so much in eager anticipation as just to give me something to do. If I sat much longer at home I was going to go crazy. I hadn't spoken to or texted Caleb all week, and I was nervous to see him. But that was the whole point, right? For him to see how this broken up stuff feels. To see where his priorities lie.

  I sipped on a drink and visited with friends, trying to seem unconcerned. Just another Friday night at the club. Thankfully dancing was mindless, I did a lot of it. I spent some time standing in the DJ booth, visiting with Mike and watching the club start to come alive. I was still standing in the booth, feeling removed from everything, when I felt Caleb.

  I stood straighter, my skin tingling and my heart beating faster. I looked out over the sea of people, knowing he was here. Somewhere.

  My eyes met his, making my stomach jump and my breath catch in my throat. He was standing with Robert and Maria, watching me from beside the dance floor. I smiled and waved, wanting to seem calm and in control. He raised his glass to me in a toast.

  I stayed where I was for a while longer, not wanting to seem anxious to see him. When my drink was empty I hugged Mike and let myself out of his booth. I headed to my bartender, not to Caleb. I'm a single lady now, and I smiled and waved first. If he wants to say hi, he can make the effort. All of my efforts tonight are going to be put toward making it through the night with my sanity, I figured that was enough.

  I was standing with a group of friends when he appeared beside me. I calmly looked him up and down. Damn, he looked good. "Hello there." He said, smiling at me, his eyes warm.

  "Hey, how are ya?"

  "Better now." Was his grinning reply. "Dance with me?"

  "Of course."

  I followed him silently to the dance floor. 'Keep it together, keep it together,' running over and over through my mind.

  He pulled me close to him, tucking me against him like he always did. No pretending to be just friends in that move. "You feel so good. I've missed you."

  "I've missed you, too." I said honestly. No point in pretending tonight.

  "How have you been?"

  "Honestly? Just getting by."

  "Me too. It's been hard not talking to you. When something happens at work, it's a natural instinct to want to call you and tell you about it. I've been looking forward to tonight all week."

  "I bet." I said, deliberately misunderstanding him. I needed to keep the idea of where he was going tonight foremost in my mind, as a shield.

  "I meant I've been looking forward to this all week. Seeing you, talking to you, touching you."

  I felt my eyes tear up and was glad he was holding me so close he couldn't see my face. 'Do not cry, not now.' I fiercely tried to reign myself in. Unless he told me he changed his mind, that he was going to stay with me tonight, I needed to stay strong.

  "Happy Birthday." Was all I could get out.

  "Thank you."


  When the song ended, he leaned in to kiss me. I pulled away saying, "Please don't. It will be my undoing."

  I saw the statement hit him. He stilled, looking at me. He nodded and said, "I understand."

  "Can I dance with you again later?" He asked after a beat.

  "Please do."

  * * * *

  I was standing at the table with Kate and Michael when Michael said, "I hear you aren't coming tonight? Caleb mentioned it earlier."

  "Nope, not tonight, we broke up."

  "Yeah, he mentioned that, too."

  I didn't know what to say to that, so I didn't say anything.

  He tried again, "It's his birthday. I know he'd like it if you were there. You're only broken up as a formality. I saw you two dancing, you can't say there isn't something still there."

  I gave it to him straight, "That's why we broke up. Let me ask you this- knowing That Other Bar, would you like your ex-girlfriend to be there? On your birthday? Knowing she no longer wants to have anything to do with that life? Knowing she loves you and wants a relationship with you that doesn't include that place? While you are trying to enjoy their particular version of a birthday party?"

  I saw the realization of what I was saying dawn on him. "Oh, hell no. I wouldn't be able to enjoy myself at all."

  "Exactly."

  Kate saved me by pulling me out onto the dance floor. "I'm so sorry."

  "Me too." I answered her honestly. "But I did it to myself."

  "You are brave. Or crazy. I'm not sure which."

  I smiled at that, and said "Crazy, definitely."

  * * * *

  I danced with Caleb every chance I had, even though it killed me. I knew this was my last chance to be with him 'before.' After he left here, any time I spent with Caleb would be 'after.' I didn't know what was to come of tonight, so many things could happen. He could still decide not to go, but I doubted it. He could go and sit around all night missing me, which I was hoping for. He could try to have a good time, but realize he'd rather have me, or he could walk in that door and forget I even existed. Whatever happened, after tonight he would have memories of that place that didn't involve me. We had never gone without each other, and after tonight that would change. So I took advantage of every 'before' minute with Caleb I could, without falling at his feet and begging him not to go.

  I laughed and visited with him at his friend's table. I flirted and teased with him, and held him close as we danced. I spent time away from him as well. I danced with other men, laughing up at them as they tried to flirt with me. I flirted back as best I could. I danced the wild abandon songs with the girls, hoping all the time that Caleb was watching, wishing I was still his.

  When midnight came, I somehow managed to stay calm. We said goodbye, without touching each other. I knew if he hugged me tight, or kissed me goodbye, I would crack into a million pieces and lay shattered at his feet. Instead I looked him in the eyes and said, "Have fun. I hope you find the answers you’re looking for."

  I couldn't keep the pain from showing on my face. Caleb always said he could tell what I was thinking, and I let him see the longing in my eyes.

  "Me too."

  I stayed another hour or so, forcing myself not to run home in tears the minute Caleb left. Then I realized neither my mind nor my heart was still here and I wasn't having any fun. I also realized the person I was trying to prove something to by staying and pretending I wasn't affected wasn't here to notice anyway. I went home numb and on auto-pilot, to try and make it through the night alone.

  Chapter 41

  Answers

  Saturday dragged on forever. I tried to work, but gave up after a couple of hours and went home to marinate in my own misery. My imagination tortured me with possible scenarios from Caleb's birthday night without me at That Other Club. I kept waiting for the phone to ring, for Caleb to call and put an end to my pain. I tried to warn myself that it was possible the pain was just beginning, that depending on what Caleb said, the pain could get worse. A lot worse.

  But at least I would know. It's the not knowing that was killing me. I could develop a plan of action once I had the facts. This waiting, wondering, was making me sick to my stomach.

  I ran through the possible outcomes once again in my head, trying to stick to generalities and not dwell on all the possible gory details. As far as I could see, there were really only two possible outcomes. Caleb could say he had a nice time visiting with everyone, enjoyed the birthday lap dances in the public area, but never even went into the back room. He could say he missed me there, that it wasn't the same without me. That he wanted a life with me and if that meant no more sex clubs, he was fine with that. That would be easy. A no-brainer, so to speak.

  Or, Caleb could say he had the best time yet last night, and didn't even miss me. He could have had a wild night, doing everyone and their sister six ways to Sunday, and was never going to give this life up. That would hurt, but the decision part would still be easy. It would be hard to hear, and even harder to function for a while, but I would eventually get over him.

  Now if he would only call. I wasn't really expecting to hear from him until the afternoon. I was sure that, whatever had gone down, he would sleep in. Once it hit about two in the afternoon, my heart started racing, my stomach really started rolling, and I just knew that any second now I would know.

  The hours slowly, painfully, ticked by. Seriously Caleb? What the hell? He had to know I was suffering. I bounced back and forth between being pissed he hadn't called, and devastated. Surely not hearing from him meant he didn't want to tell me. That couldn't be good.

  I fought the temptation to call him. There is no way I was going to break down and call him. I was not going to come crawling. I had done enough giving. I would wait him out, come hell or high water.

  I eventually fell asleep on the couch. When I woke up it was Sunday, and I knew it was over. If it had gone my way, he would have called. The only reason not to call was because he couldn't face me. Even over the phone. The only reason not to call was because he couldn't get up the nerve to tell me how it had gone, what all he had done. The man is a cop. He faces life and death decisions every day. If he can't dial a damn phone, it is even worse than I imagined.

  OK, I told myself, there's your answer. Happy now? You can move on. Fuck him then. Fuck him and the horse he rode in on. Who needs his ass anyway?

  Sunday dragged even slower. I finally got dressed and went to a movie. Sitting alone in the loud, dark theater was better than sitting at home. I turned my phone off as the movie started. See, fuck you, I'm unavailable. Just try to call now, see how little I care? I let the movie take me away for a couple of hours. When it was over I ducked into another one. I didn't even look up above the door to see what was playing.

  When that one was over I headed home. I fought the urge to turn the phone back on, to check for messages. "Take that," I said out loud in my car as I put the phone down on the seat beside me, still off. I drove through some place and got some food. I parked the car in their parking lot and ate from the bag. I wasn't feeling social enough to even go inside, but I wasn't quite ready to go home either.

  It was getting late, and home really was the only place left to go. I waited until I got inside and sat down on the couch to turn my phone back on. No messages. Well, hell.

  I stared at it for a minute, not sure how to feel. What good does it do to ignore someone's calls if they don't even know it? I nearly jumped out of my skin when it rang in my hand. Caleb. Fucking figures, I swear.

  "Yeah?" I answered, gruffly.

  "You're pissed." I heard the statement in my ear.

  "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

  "You are really pissed. I get that. I'm so sorry. I should have called yesterday."

  I didn't answer him. Silence filled the air.

  "Look, I needed time to think, that's all. I sat down a few times to call you, but I didn't know what to say to you. So I chickened out, every time. I'm sorry. Really."

&
nbsp; More silence on my end. He didn't try to fill it this time.

  I finally said, “You called, you must have something to say. What did you figure out?"

  "Nothing. That's the problem."

  "What the hell kind of answer is that?"

  "I went, like you said. I tried to give it an honest shot. To be single. I had fun, I won't lie. But I missed you. I wanted you there beside me. Kate and Michael missed you. It's not the same without you. I know you want some kind of grand revelation, some kind of realization that you mean everything to me, and that I'm done with these clubs too. Honestly, nothing has changed for me. I like that place. I like it a lot. I like the sexiness of it. I like the Lakehouse, too, but I missed you there with me. I missed you in my bed. I missed waking up with you. I missed spending Saturday and today with you. What I was putting off telling you wasn't that I'd rather have the clubs. That would be easy to say, if it was true. It would be one tough five minute conversation, but then I'd be free. I'd say "I don't want to give this up for you," and you would have your answer, and so would I, but it's not true.

  It would also be easy to make you happy and say, "I am fine with giving this up, it is you I want." It would be easy to say that to keep the peace and make you happy. If for some reason I ever regretted that, or resented you, I could always go back. These clubs aren't going away. They will always be there. If not going doesn't work for me after a while, well... I told you that before I went alone. I told you I was fine not coming here. The hard part in calling you is to be honest with you. The hard part is to tell you that yes, I will give this up for you, but I don't want to. I can't see the future, I don't know if we are forever, I don't know if in six months I will change my mind and go back to That Other Club. The hard part is telling you that I can't honestly tell you I won't regret giving that up for you. Nothing has changed for me at all. It was a fun night, but I'm still me."