Truly Mine (20 page)

My hand slithers around Tyler’s waist, and I mold my body against his—my chest against his back, my hips against his bottom, my legs tangled with his. I lay my cheek against his shoulder blades and sync our breaths. My body relaxes, but tears fill my eyes again.

Why does Tyler have to challenge me?
I work hard to suffocate my feelings with a coldhearted bitch cover. This weekend, Tyler has blown up my walls. I’m hanging by a thread to this life I’ve created.

Tyler grasps my hand and places it flat on his chest. He lays his over mine, weaving his fingers through my own.

As I kiss his shoulder, I beg myself not to let him go. I could tell him right now. I know he wants more.

After lying awake for what seems like hours, my eyes become heavy, and I finally give up my fight to not lose a moment with Tyler.

When I awake, Tyler and I are facing each other, and we are wound together like a French knot. I have no desire to move. I hoped to sleep away the want, the need that I felt last night. The need for Tyler. But it’s still very much present. Like it’s gnawing at my heart and soul. I hate the feeling.

I slide my hand down Tyler’s back, dragging my fingernails over his skin.

He opens his sleepy eyes as he smiles and then kisses me on the forehead. “Good morning, Tru.”

It certainly is.
Only for a while though.

“What’s wrong?” Tyler asks.

I know he is giving me every opportunity to tell him that I want more. That I want him. I do want him, and I do want more.

I fake a smile and falsely reassure him that nothing is wrong. “I’m fine.” I shift out of his hold and sit up. “I’ll make us coffee.”

He sits also, his chest against my back, and he drops a kiss on the back of my neck. I turn and look back at Tyler. He wears that look I’ve seen so often. Falling onto his back, he stares at the ceiling, no doubt exasperated with me.

My head and my heart go to war for the next few hours. My head reminds my heart that this thing with Tyler has to stop now. It’s already gone too far and penetrated my emotions deeper than it ever should have—and, frankly, on a level that I did not know was even possible.

My entire life, I have been careful. I’ve not once fallen in love like my foolish friends. I don’t believe in the same love that Lissa and Marie do. Falling for that bullshit version of love causes people to lose themselves and to feel the uncomfortable feeling that I am suffering from right now.

I know exactly when I lost control. It was the fucking whiskey night. That night set the expectation for this weekend. What started out as casual sex has now turned into a weekend of being inseparable.

After Tyler takes his shower, he joins me on the patio. Sitting across from me at the small bistro table overlooking one corner of Central Park, he sips his coffee and looks out at the trees that have turned the most beautiful shades of red, yellow, and orange.

“It’s beautiful out here,” he says.

It is a perfect morning. The weather is mild with no wind.

“Yeah, I love to sit out here and read on mornings like this.”

“Do you really like living in New York? I don’t think I could get used to such a big city.”

“I do now. I’m not going to lie though. It took a while.” I grab a pillow from behind me and set it on my lap. Hugging the pillow, I continue to give Tyler a little insight to my first few months in New York, “When I first came to New York, I expected the people here to be judgmental of me. It took me a while to figure out that no one even noticed me, much less gave a damn about what I was doing or who I was doing it with. Once I understood that, my life got a whole lot easier. I met Marie and then Lissa, and things fell into an easy routine. Then, one night, we got the idea for the business, and that was all she wrote. Life only got better and better.”

Tyler listens intently. “That’s more than you have ever told me about yourself, Truly.”

I shy away as always when the attention is on me. What he doesn’t know is all the pieces that I had to leave out just to tell that little bit of my story.

“Let me fill your cup.” I stand and reach out to take it.

“Actually, I have to go soon. My cab will be here in about twenty minutes.”

“What? I can take you to the airport. You’re not taking a cab.” Suddenly, I’m anxious, and my thoughts are blowing around in my mind like a hurricane.

As Tyler asks me to tell the girls good-bye and thanks me for letting him stay with me, I listen but physically cannot speak. Tears are threatening again, and my throat burns and feels as if it’s closing in.

It’s obvious by his expressions that he’s well aware of the state I’m in. At one point, he frowns and squints his eyes as if he’s feeling the same pain. I know only minutes have passed, but it seems like forever.

Finally, he pulls me close, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. He pushes my hair to one side and drops a kiss just below my ear. “You know what you mean to me, right?”

I can’t hold it in anymore. I gasp and then hold my hand over my mouth. He turns away from me, picks up his bags, and walks out my door.

The minute I hear the door closing, an unfamiliar wail escapes me.

I rush after Tyler. Standing in the hallway, I sob. I beg myself to be honest with him. “Tyler…I…”

“Tru, tell me something. I don’t get it, babe. Help me understand what’s going on. Tell me anything, damn it. Make me understand.”

Why is this so damn hard for me?
I must be completely ignorant to let Tyler walk out of my life without so much as a fight.

My heart is telling me exactly what to say to him. He’ll understand. I just can’t get the words to come out of my mouth. Only a frustrated moan escapes my lips. I hold my head as if my brain is about to explode from the pressure.

“Really? You’ve got nothing to say? Fine. See you in another decade, Truly.”

Tyler spins around, and I’m left watching him leave my life—for good this time.

“Take care of yourself,” he says.

I let it all out as I rush to my bedroom and throw myself onto my bed. I cry like I’ve never cried in all my life because I hurt like I have never hurt in my entire life.

The day passes as I lie in a fetal position, staring at the walls.

At five p.m., I know that Tyler should be home, but he hasn’t texted me to tell me that he’s arrived. After struggling with myself about leaving well enough alone, I text him.

Me: I assume you’ve made it home safely.

Immediately, I get a response.

Tyler: Yes. I’m sorry. I should have texted you.

Tyler: Are you okay, Tru?

I am not okay, but I lie.

Me: I’m good.

Tyler: Of course you are.

When I finally find the strength to get out of bed, it’s only to draw a hot bubble bath. I soak in the bath in an attempt to find comfort. Nothing can comfort me, certainly not a damn bath.

Monday is a daze. I unconsciously make my way through the day.

Tuesday morning, I force myself into my normal routine. It’s not easy though. Everything that used to drive me to love what I do and to find such rewards in it is no longer valid. I’m sure, with time, that will change.

Given the reaction from Lissa and Marie about my choice not to see Tyler again, I’m surprised I made it through the day at all. I explained to them that this was how we worked. I lied and said that we both knew this was how our time together would end. He goes his way, and I go mine. No hope of a future together. That was the furthest thing from the truth this time. I know it, and so do they.

It doesn’t help matters that they actually like him. The only good thing that came of the entire day is that, after they told me what they thought of me, which was nothing short of being a disappointment, they eliminated speaking to me altogether. I don’t blame them, and I don’t bother offering an explanation for my choice.

I push forward, and the days turn into weeks. Despite having little support from Lissa and Marie, each day gets easier. With no word from Tyler, the feeling of self-loathing begins to fade—at least to a tolerable state.

Round two with Rodney distracts me and is proving to be more of a mistake than Lissa and I thought it to be. He’s more comfortable being himself this time. With most of our clients, I’d say that would work in our favor, but this is not the case with Rodney. He’s even stranger than we thought him to be. He doesn’t seem interested in what he’s paying us to teach him either. I can’t put my finger on it, but something is off with this guy.

On our last day together, we’re in Central Park on the far north side, farthest away from the office, when he reveals what I’m sure has been his true intention from the start. We’ve attended a concert, and we’re just beginning to make our way back to the office.

“Truly, can I ask you a question?” He stops dead in his tracks.

Just a few steps ahead of him, I stop and turn toward him. I assume he has a question regarding our work together this week.

“Of course, Rodney.”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

I was very wrong.

With that, I immediately text the girls to tell them where I am.

At first, he has a slick grin spread across his face. As soon as he notices my reaction, the grin drops into a concerned frown.

“I don’t discuss my private life with clients, Rodney.”

He begins walking again, quickly passing by me. “Right. Of course.” He shakes his head.

For the next few minutes, we walk silently toward the office. I’m sure Rodney got the hint the first time he brought up the subject, but I’m wrong.

“I’m not looking forward to our time together ending.” He drops back so that he is now walking next to me.

I liked it much better when he was a few steps ahead. He’s creeping me out, and it doesn’t help that we are very alone on the path.

I don’t want to aggravate him, so I try to appease him. “That’s how this works. You’ll go off now and use what we’ve taught you.”

Determined, he continues, “I have to tell you, I really like you. I’d like to take you out. If you’d just give me a chance, I think we would have a nice evening, getting to know each other on a more personal level.”

“Let’s discuss this in the office, please.” Every now and then, I have to deal with a client who thinks he’s fallen for the teacher. I learned long ago to never, ever have this discussion in private.

The girls are at the office, waiting to deal with this situation. I’ll play it safe and wait until I’m in a secure place to take this any further.

Rodney doesn’t respond. He only looks at me with pleading eyes. Pleading eyes that will obviously get him nowhere.

When we enter the lobby of the building, Lissa is waiting for us. She plays it off that she was just arriving as well. She and I greet one another, and together, the three of us board the elevator, heading for the eighth floor. When the elevator stops, Rodney motions for Lissa and I to exit ahead of him. He follows, and we walk single file into my office where Marie is waiting for us. Rodney looks confused as the three of us stand before him.

“Rodney, we need to finish this case now. You understand that I don’t mix work and my personal life, right?”

“Why are they here?” He points at Lissa and Marie.

“Because your intentions for asking for a second session with us seem to me as if they might have been for a reason other than coaching. I have to ask you, Rodney. Did you have ulterior motives from the beginning?”

He walks to the sitting area. “You need to remember something. I’m paying you. Paying you for a service that, frankly, is on the verge of illegal. So, fuck with me, and I’ll fuck you right back.” He exits the office.

Marie follows him through the hall, and Lissa follows. I have no energy to join them in seeing him out.

I swear, I can’t take much more emotional battering. I have just recovered from one mess before getting myself into another. At this rate, I’ll need to be medicated by the year’s end.

pronunciation
kwoh-tid-ee-uhn

(adj.)
usual or everyday; ordinary

I
rev the engine on my bike to the maximum and blow down the country road, hoping like hell to lose some of my frustration in the wind.