Shit! Shit!
Shit! How am I supposed to get out of this one?
“I thought you were already
thinking about moving here?” I ask nonchalantly, trying to avoid anything too
complicated. I can’t believe he’s telling me all of this, knowing I have
a boyfriend. One that’s waiting for me, probably still seething with
anger.
“I was, but you were the push I
needed to make the leap. Essentially, you’re the reason why I suddenly
wanted to go.”
“Oliver…” I know I should
be annoyed, but I’m not. He’s at least telling me the truth, and
honestly, whether I want to hear it or not, it’s what I need to stay above
water right now. I can’t fault him for being honest, just as I can’t
fault Alex for not being honest. As long as the reasons were pure, can I
fault anyone?
“I know what you’re about to say,
so let me stop you before you get into lecture mode. I know you want to
be friends, and you have a boyfriend you think you love. Right now I’ll
accept it, but the moment he makes a mistake, I will be there. The moment
you’re free to date again, I want the chance. Just keep that in
mind. That’s all I’m asking for.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I
smile at him and continue to glance at the menu, suddenly hearing my stomach
grumble. Getting the “friends” talk out of the way, even though we don’t
see eye to eye, has calmed me down a bit. It’s a relief to know he’ll
give me the space I need. Being around Oliver makes me feel...functional
again, and for that, I’m grateful.
After deciding on a few rolls
and
the green tea, Oliver takes the safe route and orders a bento box with Teriyaki
chicken, rice and a California roll.
“Not a sushi eater, huh?” I
love sushi, always my comfort food, and I’m a little more than peeved when
someone says they don’t like it, but have never tried it. But, because
I’m trying for a little normalcy here, I decide today is not the day to
poke. Besides, I don’t think I have it in me. Not today.
Teasing, yes, chastising, no.
“How could you tell?” he smirks
at me, again lifting the mood.
“Just a hunch. We could
have gone somewhere else,” I tease back.
“No worries.” Always at
ease, Oliver relaxes placing his arm around the plush backrest as he looks
around at the restaurants décor. Getting to sneak a peek, the first thing
I notice is how deep set his green eyes are and how his full lips fit his
ruggedly handsome face. He is definitely someone who’s done more than a
full days worth of labor. Oliver looks like he loves to be outdoors, but
based on his clothes and his car, he doesn’t mind the finer things in
life.
Stealing my eyes from his face,
my eyes rake over his upper body and am caught when I see the trace of a tattoo
peek through his sleeve. Tattoos on men are one of my weaknesses and I
can’t restrain myself. Reaching over, I push his sleeve up, but recoil
when his muscles flex. The feel of his bicep on my fingertips makes my
insides tighten. Instead of reaching over to finish revealing his ink, I
point my chin and ask him what kind of tattoo he has.
“Just a simple tribal I’ve had
since I was sixteen. Want to know a little secret?” I nod. “I
think I have an addiction to tattoos; getting them, seeing them, and watching
them move on other people. You should see my back. The guy who does
all my work is gifted, truly a work of art,” he grins at me with
excitement.
Blinded by everything that is
Oliver, rugged good looks and carefree attitude, the words escape me before I
have time to think. “Why aren’t you taken?”
He laughs. “Well…I
was. Long story short, several years back I was engaged. She broke
it off, and for a while there, I guess I was bitter against pretty much all
women. But, I am getting better. Little by little, I’ve been
attempting to get my shit together. Just like this move. This was
my huge step towards wanting something more…something more substantial.”
Why
do I get the feeling he isn’t talking about buying a new house?
I
blush, but I’m unable to say or do anything. I really hope he isn’t
talking about me.
Taking a deep breath, he
continues, “You know, moving here was a pretty big gesture. Women are
supposed to like big romantic gestures. Don’t you, Elyssa?”
Oliver was engaged. If he
was engaged, that leads me to believe he’s the settling down type and not the
type of guy who used to fuck for money.
Ouch, that one stung!
My
own words make my chest contract, hurting me to my core. The mere thought
of Alex getting through life on the money of other women is unbearable.
Obviously, I can see how he would have been a hot commodity, especially since I
intimately know the skills he possesses. He was just banking on them.
Would I hold it against him if he was skilled at sewing and made money making
clothes?
Like a slap in the face, I’ve
finally figured out what’s really bothering me. A nervous giggle escapes
my lips, as I’m faced with my desperate reality. How am I supposed to compete
with the staggering number of women he may have been with? How can I
compete with
her
? With a woman who not only gave him his career,
but also his lifestyle? A lifestyle he and Nana have grown accustomed
to. How could I ever take that away from him?
I struggle to breathe knowing I
can’t give Alex, or Oliver, what they want. Why does it feel like the
walls are closing in? Oh that’s right…because they are.
Breathe
Ely, just breathe.
Oliver clears his throat, waiting
for my response.
Taking another deep breath, I try
and respond as honestly as I can. “We do, but it would be ideal if the girl
wasn’t already taken. We are still flattered by the gesture though.”
Just then the food arrives, and
it couldn’t have come at a better time. All of the heaviness is pushing
me down further into an abyss, my abyss of misery. I wanted to have lunch
with Oliver, not a lunch date with my emotions. Looking up into his green
eyes, I see compassion and genuine freedom. Is it wrong of me to want him
to see the same in mine?
With Oliver and his humor keeping
me at bay, the rest of the lunch is enjoyable. I know being with him
would be easy, no complications. But, just the thought makes my stomach
turn. I can’t do it…I can’t see myself with another man. Not after
experiencing life with Alex. He is my life. Even though it can be
confusing and tiresome, he is who I need to fully breathe, to fully live.
Just then, I’m taken back to a
simpler time, when my parents were alive, and the world was at my fingertips.
I can almost hear my mom’s sweet voice, “Life isn’t always about how easy we
can make it, but about the choices we make to ease the life.”
Looking at me sideways, Oliver
asks if I’m ready to go. At the same time, he tosses a few twenties on
the table as we slide out of the booth. Walking out of the restaurant, he
places his arm around my shoulders. I know I should remove myself from
his hold, but for some reason I’m comforted by this small gesture, and decide
to allow myself this moment of solidarity.
Friends, right?
~~~~~
Fixated on something in the
distance as we pull up to the curb, I follow Oliver’s eyes and shake my head
when I notice what has captured his attention. Of course Alex would be
waiting outside of the building. He
looks
calm resting against the
wall with his hands in his pockets, but we all know looks can be deceiving.
Oliver’s gaze, still focused on
my heart fifty feet away, holds nothing back. “You know he’s an asshole,
right?” No matter what he says and no matter how I’m feeling, I know Alex
is nothing of Oliver’s assumptions. Does he even know Alex? He’s
basing his decision on what? A few days at a couple of conferences?
“Thank you for coming to lunch with me. Hopefully it’s not the last
time,” he pleads.
“Now that we’re working together,
I’m sure you’ll see me so much you’ll get sick of me,” I chide. Oliver
seems a little too into me and I know I shouldn’t give him anything to hold
onto, but he’s so easy to tease. With the next month looming over my
head, will I be able to keep up the charade of having a boyfriend? It’s
not going to be easy. I really hope I can do this.
Feigning shock, he laughs, “I
don’t think I could ever get sick of you.” He may think that now, but
he’ll see. What do they say? You spend more time with your
co-workers than any of your family or friends? Yep, that sounds about
right.
With an odd look on his face,
Oliver reaches up and brushes my cheek. I pull away from him, shocked
that he’s already crossing the “friends” line.
Did he not hear what I
said at the restaurant?
Showing a stray lash sitting atop
the pad of his index finger, I giggle. “Close your eyes and make a
wish.” I guess my crazy look made him feel the need to defend himself,
but hey, he crossed the line. What did he expect?
I stare at him wanting nothing
more than to trust him, but I’m nervous. Alex is so close. If
Oliver tried anything, or if it even looked like he was, I’m terrified of what
Alex would do. He’s come so close, too many times, and I refuse to let
another Cole situation happen. Not over me, not ever again.
“I don’t know what you’re worried
about Elyssa; I’m not going to bite.” Oliver’s emerald green eyes show
nothing but patience and kindness. Of course I can trust him.
Closing my eyes I contemplate my
heart’s desire. If I only had one wish, what would it be?
Please,
please, please let everything work out with Alex.
After a moment with
my wish, my lips form a kiss, and I blow. Hope builds as my eyes open,
beaming at the possibility. Alex
is
my happily ever after; it’s
just a matter of finding the glass slipper that fits this fairy tale.
Catching Oliver staring at me, my
eyes study the contours on his mischievous face. Dropping my eyes a
little further, I watch as his Adam’s apple moves up and down his throat as he
swallows. He faintly looks like a guy contemplating if he should say
something or not, and wondering if he’ll get slapped in the process.
“Spit it out, Oliver. You look like your brain’s hurting,” I laugh.
“I don’t bite either.”
“You really are beautiful, you
know.”
Shit!
By now, I should know he’s going to say
something to throw me off guard. Surprisingly though, it doesn’t make me
feel as uncomfortable as it should. Friends can tell each other how good
they look. If not your friends, who?
Right?
I thank him again for lunch,
deciding the best thing for me and our friendship is to escape the growing need
lurking in his eyes. Standing at the curb, I wave to him as he drives
away down the long entrance towards the busy street.
Taking a moment to breathe, I
walk towards Alex who is still brooding against the wall near the parking
garage. Trying to assess his mood, and mine, my pace slows. I don’t
want to fight, but I’m also not ready to give in.
Be strong,
Ely. Be strong for the both of you.
As I approach, his eyes are
alight, filled with torment. It is literally breaking my heart in
two. I know I did this to him. Not only with my inability to give
him the assurance he needs, but because I left him. No matter my
intentions, I know how my departure appeared and how gut wrenchingly painful it
must have felt watching me walk away. It’s the same feeling when I think
about him and Arianna. It was how I felt when he ignored me for four days
and how I felt when he fought Cole and thought about ending it with me.
Look at me now; I’ve caused him the same pain, if not worse. And for
that, I feel guilty.
My voice soft, I whisper
hello. I refuse to make eye contact for fear that I may just give
in. Instead, I stare at my toes, begging them to do the talking for
me. Alex stands silent, taking his hands from his pockets, fuming as he
crosses his arms in front of his chest. Eyes catching on the red stains
across his knuckles, my eyes dart up. Ignoring his anger, I grab his
right hand a little rougher than I meant, bringing it closer to my face to
assess the damage.
“Alex…what did you do? We
need to clean this off.” Gashes in his knuckles appear to be busted open,
crimson red trickling down. “Your hand may be broken.”
Opening and closing his hand, he
finally speaks. “See, not broken.”
“It still needs to be
cleaned. Come.” Still holding onto his bloody hand, I drag him
towards the parking garage to fetch the first aid kit I carry in my
trunk. Yet another reason I need to thank my big sister. After
popping the trunk, I grab an alcohol swab, gauze, and medical tape.
Insisting he get inside, I point
to the passenger door as I retreat to the opposite side, sliding in to clean
off his wounds. After both of us are situated, uncomfortably I might add,
I turn my attention back to his injured hand. “This may sting a
bit.” I gently rub the alcohol over his knuckles, hoping that I don’t
hurt him even more than he already is. He doesn’t even wince. Still
cleaning his wound, I pucker my lips, gently blowing to soften the sting from
the alcohol.
Alex reaches up with his other
hand, roughly rubbing his thumb along my bottom lip. “Did you kiss him?”