Three Stages of Love: Attraction (29 page)

“What are you doing?” he asked angrily and without hope.

With luggage in hand, I wasn’t going to waste any time. “I’m not running away from you this time, Alexander. I’m running toward the rest of my life, and at this moment I don’t know if that includes you. If you’ll excuse me, I need to pack for New York.”

“I’ll come with you,” he said.

“No. I need to go alone. You’ve made your deals here, and you’ve made your choices. Now I need to make mine,” I rebuked.

Surprisingly, Alexander didn’t stand his ground like he had in the past, and I was thankful for it; my anger would have just grown, and I don’t know what I might have said. As I packed my things, he turned his back to me in mourning and showed himself out of the bedroom.

But before he left, I had to let him know what ailed me worse than anything. “I never asked you to give anything up for me. I accepted you as you were, while you tried to turn me inside out. The only thing I asked of you was to honor me before her, and you couldn’t. Marcus called your office looking for you, and Chloe answered. You chose her over me, and above everything else…that is tearing me to shreds.”

And I returned—unable to accept a response had he been able to give me one—to the four lonely walls of the closet to collect my things.

I didn’t descend for the rest of the day. Ms. Gina attempted to feed me a few times, but food wouldn’t satisfy or heal my heart. I spent the evening packing the things I had brought with me, leaving behind all that Alexander had bought me. They were purchased for a girl who wasn’t me—a girl who was willing to lose her identity and self to play a role and not live a life.

I paced the room, gathering the few things I had left to pack, with tears streaking my face as I folded and placed each item into my luggage. I cried until I had no tears left in me to shed. I felt deadened. My zombie-like motions carried me through the night, with no sleep and no salvation for the love that I had just started to enjoy.

I booked a flight out of LAX for first thing in the morning. There were no flights left for that evening, or I would have jogged myself to the airport.

I texted Marcus to let him know that everything was set and that I would be flying out in the morning.

But the response to the text came as a phone call.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Eva, are you all right? Alexander isn’t answering his phone. What happened?” Marcus asked, shaken with concern.

“Nothing that wasn’t bound to happen. His apologies can only go so far, but they can’t erase the hurt that’s burrowed inside of me. Even through all my mistakes, Marcus”—I breathed exasperatedly—“I never kept anything from him. All of my fears, all of my emotions were laid before him, and knowing how I felt, he made his own path without considering my feelings.”

Marcus breathed into the phone, forlorn for what Alexander and I were succumbing to, but there was little to be done to rectify it now. “I know that there isn’t anything I can say to make you feel better, but you do need to at least hold on to the fact that he lives for you. His intentions were pure of heart, and nothing was done to intentionally hurt you. I have known Alexander for most of my life, and I can assure you that he could never hurt a fly. And for you, he would lay down his life to know that you were safe.”

“The problem is, Marcus, is that he didn’t lay down his life for me. I would never ask him to do that. But he did take my life, and now I have to get it back. I really do need to finish up here, Marcus. I’ll see you on Monday morning.” And I disconnected the call.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Flying first class is an experience that everyone should enjoy at least once in their lifetime. But having had the luxury of traveling in a private jet—well, first class now seems like the slums.

It’s silly really, the things you think about when your mind is numb and pained by everything else in your life. The most meaningless of thoughts entered my mind as the plane made its way past the “fly-over” states. With only two hours of flight time left, I tried to bury my thoughts in anything but
Alexander.
I was bothered that the leather seats weren’t as plush and soft as the ones in Alexander’s jet and that there was far less leg room than in the spacious and luxurious recliners that I had enjoyed that last time I had flown. But all of that was a cover for the one true thing that was lacking from this plane.

Alexander had stayed on the first floor all night. I was not sure if he got any sleep, and I couldn’t ask, but when I descended to the main room that morning, Alexander was nowhere to be found. His briefcase was gone and so was his car, so I assumed he went to the office before I woke. I didn’t bother to leave a note for Alexander—too
Dear John-
ish and cliché. But before I left the house, I called my mother and informed her of my upcoming arrival, sparing her the details. I instead made a call that I had longed to make for the last few days.

I called Samantha.

Samantha and Marcus were to be married the following weekend, and Alexander and I had been asked to be their witnesses. I started the phone call with a sobbing apology for how I had behaved the last we spoke. And then I groveled for forgiveness while giving Samantha all the details of my tortured LA existence.

“I have been here for you all along and will continue to be here for you even when my soul is far into the heavens. You are the sister I never had. Stop apologizing, and come home safely,” was all that Samantha could say.

And it was all she had to say to soften the bludgeoned wound left from our last bloody good-bye.

I breathed deep as I counted the minutes before I could see my one true friend and confidante. I made acquaintances in Los Angeles, but friends are those who you don’t have to watch with an extra set of eyes. True friends are blunt and honest whenever it is necessary. A friend will tell you,
You look like shit,
because she loves you; she won’t tell you,
You look great,
when you actually look like shit, because she does really care.

And that was my Samantha.

Alexander had become all of this and filled the void left by Samantha. We had reached a point where our truths were all we had, whether the one hearing the truth liked it or not. We shared the most intimate and embarrassing of moments, thoughts, and fantasies because there was no one else in the world that either of us could have imagined sharing it with. And this is what made his “omissions,” as he called it, so hurtful. Perhaps as a woman I tell myself that I always want to know the truth about everything, but until now, the truth had never been so ugly.

Alexander’s and Chloe’s past relationship no longer bothered me. The fact that Chloe still worked for him and was psychotically in love with him bothered me to no avail. His decision to not let her go was causing my heart to rupture. I didn’t know if I would have acted any differently had Alexander told me that he had been with Chloe when we separated and then fired her from her job; but the fact that he continued a relationship with her made it intolerable.

Do I have the right to be angry when I took harbor in the arms of another man? Could I have continued to have a “friendship” with Michael after what had transpired between us? Alexander surely wouldn’t have allowed it! I didn’t have sex with Michael, but I did allow him to take my pride and humility as he tormented me mentally and emotionally.

I continued as I had the last twenty-four hours, asking myself innumerable questions, all ending with the silence of a non-answer.

One could say that I was punishing Alexander even after he chose to forgive me. But one can say anything when they are not drowning in the terrors of a situation. That is the main reason why I rarely ask for people’s opinions. It always seems that when others are in trouble, everyone’s a therapist. But when the “therapist” finds herself in a similar mess, the answer is always,
Oh, you couldn’t possibly understand—what I’m going through is different.
My suggestion to women is: you may not have the answer, and it may take time to find one, but the
right
answer always resides in
your
heart and not in the heart of another.

So, I followed my heart—my very hurt and broken heart—all the way home to New York.

The home I had left in New York held no consolation; for I had left far more behind in LA—Alexander!

My mother waited for me at my house and greeted me with a warm, cheerful welcome. But she knew within moments that her little girl was hurting.

“What is it? What has happened to you to make you look like someone has died?” she asked.

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Mamma. It’s been a trying few weeks, and I really just need to concentrate and prepare for my meeting tomorrow.” Revealing all that was inside would surely have spun me into a depressive state that I would not get out of easily, so I avoided it the best I could.

“Is it Alexander? My dear, you mustn’t run from love the minute it becomes difficult. The difficult moments in love are the ones that test your heart’s true motives and emotions,” she added.

“I didn’t run away from him. He lied to me. And I can’t think with my heart right now,” I explained in very broad way.

“So? He lied. Everyone lies; they are human beings—they make mistakes. Haven’t you made mistakes in your life? What if all the people who have been slighted by you ran away from you? God created forgiveness for a reason—because
to err is human; to forgive, divine!
Make sure to remember that, or you might lose something you will regret for the rest of your life, my dear. You won’t find true love around every corner. Had I chosen to leave your father the first time he lied to me or made a mistake, our relationship wouldn’t have made it passed our first date,” she chided.

“Please, Mamma, I can’t think straight. Marcus is counting on me to—”

My mother cut off my words. “Marcus may be counting on you for one day, but Alexander is counting
on you
for the rest of his life. Don’t be hasty and dismissive when contemplating forever. The clock moves forward; it doesn’t turn back.” She ended the conversation, leaving me with a world of thought.

My mother helped me unpack in silence and then left me to rest.

But rest didn’t come easily. So I worked. I dusted off my laptop and logged into my e-mails. I was overwhelmed to find thousands of unread and unanswered e-mails waiting for me. So I masked my sorrows and dove into the only comfort I had left.

By morning, I hadn’t slept and was ready to go to work by five o’clock. The dark of night had passed quickly with my work, leaving me no room to concentrate or ponder anything else. But even the strongest of minds must battle the heart; for there is no other organ or living breathing thing like the heart. It gives you life, and it can take it away. And in between living and dying, it gives you the most magnanimous of emotional sensations and the harshest of pains. And so I battled every time Alexander’s eyes appeared in my thoughts. And I battled every time I felt a tear creep into my eye; I battled the flame that sat in my chest that coveted nothing more than
Alexander
.

I met Marcus in the conference room of the office promptly at eight. The executives from Crystal Corners were waiting in the lobby while Marcus and I prepared for the meeting. There was so much riding on this deal that Marcus and I never paused to even mention LA or Alexander, and I was grateful for it.

“Come in, gentlemen,” Marcus said, greeting the executives.

“Miss Chase,” the CEO, Mr. Sanders, said as he took my hand to shake it. “I feel much better knowing that you have returned from your trip to work with us on renegotiations. There are few people that know the ins and outs of our company, and I couldn’t imagine doing this without you. It is a pleasure to have you here.”

I felt a tightening in my throat as I accepted the grand compliment of my life’s work. The fulfillment it gave me to hear that I was valued and had been specifically requested to handle a twenty million dollar account was as I remembered—utterly gratifying—but only to my mind and not my heart.

“Mr. Sanders, I am happy to be part of this. So allow me to begin by saying that I do think your desire to revisit the contract is admirable and understandable, but the claims that your finance department has projected are risky,” I began.

“You are correct, Miss Chase, and that is why we have come to you. Before our merger, we grew as a global corporation because we took risks and believed in our ideas. We have been very happy with the joining of our companies, but I think it’s time we went back to remembering what it felt like to succeed at something that makes us quiver. There is very little satisfaction in attaining and moving forward with something that has no future growth and is easy to deal with. We want to be exhilarated by what we produce and what we can offer the global market. If I played it safe, I wouldn’t have the company I have now. You look like a woman who can handle taking risks with poise. Do you not think it’s doable?”

I felt like the conversation was aimed at all the past months of my life. Here before me was this man who was comforted by laying
his
life’s work in the hands of a woman he believed to be fearless.

And there I was, scared to death of everything that surrounded my life to date. I had been playing it safe all my life, and though I grew in success, I faltered in life.

“Your words move me, Mr. Sanders. Marcus”—I looked straight forward as Marcus sat on pins and needles, praying that this went well—“I reviewed the projects, and though I think there are a few adjustments to be made, I believe—with your blessing, of course—that I can launch a subsidiary group of investors in Europe to begin testing the prototypes for the devices. If Mr. Sanders will agree to renew the contract for the next ten years, we could have a pilot ready for testing within three months and a beta release for the global market within the year.”

“Mr. Sanders,” said Marcus, “I have learned to trust the instincts of this woman. If you will—as Miss Chase explained—sign on for the ten-year contract, then I will have no hesitations in agreeing to financially back what Miss Chase is proposing.” Marcus glanced at me admiringly.