A Kiss and a Cuddle (9 page)

Knock,
knock, knock.
  My hand rapped against Rex’s hotel door,
much more quietly than I had expected.  I hoped he heard it.  I took a step
back from the door, and moved to the side.  I always hated knowing that someone
on the other side of the door got to check you out through their peephole,
while you just stood there in all of your carnival-mirror distorted glory.    

The
longer I waited, the more nervous I became.  I couldn’t tell if it was nerves
or the effects of devouring a whole box of Ferrero Rochers, but I felt sick to
my stomach. 

Then
in one fell swoop, Rex opened the door, greeted me with a smile, and all of my
nervousness disappeared.  “Come in, come in!” he exclaimed.  “Welcome to my
humble abode.”

I
walked in to his hotel room, which looked as big as a mansion.  “Wow, this
place is amazing,” I said.  I spotted a beautiful flower corsage on the living
room table that he must have bought for me to wear.  He was wearing the
matching flower boutonniere on his left lapel. 

Rex
smiled and looked me up and down.  His eyebrows suddenly furrowed.  “Why are
you all dolled up, love?”

“For
the art event, silly,” I replied and laughed.  He didn’t laugh.  His eyes were
wide and wildly confused.

“I
invited you to come over to help me with my speech,” he explained.  “But I
can’t take you there with me, kitty-cat.”

“Oh.”
I could feel my heart sinking and stinging every fibre in my body as it fell. 
The embarrassment crushed me then and there.  I could feel his eyes on me, and
my face felt hot.  I looked down at the floor, and I wanted it to swallow me
up.  I didn’t know where to look or what to say.  I needed to get out of
there.  I started to step backwards towards the door.

“I’m
sorry,” he said genuinely, trying to grab my hands. “There must have been a
miscommunication.”

I
didn’t want to hear it.  I didn’t want to hear his excuses or his explanation
for why I wasn’t good enough to go with him.  I pulled my hands away from him
and ran as quickly as I could to the door, with my gold dress rustling against
my body.

“Wait,
Rose!” he yelled, but it was too late.  I slammed the door and ran towards the
elevators.  I was so hurt and confused, I could barely see straight.  My body
felt empty and used.  I tried to keep my composure until I got into the shelter
of the elevator.

The
elevator door opened, and I pressed the button as quickly as I could.  When the
doors closed, my eyes erupted with hot, sudden tears.  I cried so hard I
couldn’t catch my breath.  You are such a fool, Rose. 

I
made my way through the busy hotel lobby.  Old couples, young couples, and
families gave me looks of concern and confusion, as I continued to sob and run
in my golden gown.  I finally made it outside on to the street.  The fresh air
cooled and dried my tear-stained cheeks as I ran home.  He didn’t want to be
seen with me.  He didn’t want to share the idea of us with the world after all. 
He didn’t buy the corsage for me. 
He bought it for someone else.

“Derek,
can you come over?” I whimpered on the phone, as I curled up on my couch.

“I’ll
be right there,” he replied.  “What can I bring over to drink?  Wine? 
Something a bit harder like Crown Royal?”

“Nothing
royal.  Wine, yes.” We swiftly said goodbye and hung up.  Derek would rescue
me, and be my knight in shining armour.

Nina
jumped up to lay on my lap.  I petted her, and my eyes filled with tears again,
remembering how hopeful I had been while getting ready earlier today.  “Mommy
isn’t going on a date after all, Nina,” I explained.  She purred and closed her
eyes.

I
tried to remember the exact words that Rex used at dinner when he
didn’t
invite me to the event.  He said that I would love it.  Then he said I should
come over beforehand to help with his speech.  I suppose he didn’t explicitly
ask me to attend the event in so many words, but that was definitely the
impression I got.  Did I create the invitation in my own mind?  Did he really
not invite me?  I was so confused.

Either
way, I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him again.  A person couldn’t survive
that amount of humiliation.  A couple certainly couldn’t survive, either.  That
was it for me and Rex.  This was our sad ending.

I
wondered who the flower corsage was for.  It matched his boutonniere, so he
clearly had another date.  Maybe he had another girl from Denver who showed him
around the city.  Maybe he was flying in another girl from England.  A girl who
would be more impeccably dressed, poised, and well-bred, I was sure.  A girl
who he would be proud to introduce to his family and to the world.  How could I
have been so foolish?
 
I closed my eyes and tried to stop thinking.  To
stop hurting.

I
must have drifted off for a while, but I was soon startled by knocking at my
door.  I knew that it was Derek, but I let myself imagine for a moment that it
was Rex coming to apologize.  I opened up the door to see Derek standing tall
in my doorway, pushing a big bottle of red wine towards me. 

I
smiled weakly.  “Thanks for coming, Derek,” I said and took the bottle of wine
by both hands.

“Anytime. 
What’s up, buttercup?” he asked, as he took off his leather jacket and walked
into my living room.  He was wearing a black sweater and had dark denim jeans
on.  He rustled his hair and smiled back at me in the kitchen.

I
grabbed two glasses from my kitchen and joined him on my couch.  “The troubles
of life,” I sighed and poured two glasses of wine.

“So,
you mean… the boy troubles of life.”  He grabbed his glass and took a sip.

“I
don’t know what I mean, Derek,” I replied.  I was sure he didn’t want to hear
the intricate details of me dating other guys.  I took a big gulp of wine. “My
heart just hurts, and I need more wine.”  I refilled my glass until it was full
again and took another drink.

“Now,
now…” Derek started to say, as he grabbed my glass of wine and put it on the
table.  “There’s nothing worse than a heartbreak hangover.  Take it easy, Rose.”

“I
could think of a few things that are worse.”

“And
what would those be?”

“Lies,
public humiliation,” I grabbed my glass again. “Unrequited love.”  I looked at
Derek, and we locked eyes for a moment.  He didn’t have to say a word.  I could
tell in his eyes that he knew the pain of unrequited love, all too well.  There
was no lower feeling than knowing that you had found your soul mate, the one
person that you would always love most in the world, and having to accept that this
other person would never want you or love you.  And if you ever wanted to find
love again, you knew you had to settle for less.  But eventually, over time,
you would meet someone else, and you would convince yourself you were happy,
and not even allow yourself to think about the one that got away.  That was the
sad story of unrequited love.

“You
are probably right,” Derek said, finally.  “What are we going to do with each
other?”  He stretched out his arm and pulled me closer to him.

“I’m
not sure, Derek,” I whispered, and I leaned my head on his chest. 

“You
know I will always think of you ultimately,” he whispered back.

He
slowly ran his fingers through my hair, and I closed my eyes.  It was nice.  I
listened to his heartbeat and concentrated on his breath moving in and out.  Before
long, I was dozing off.  I must have been asleep for a while, because when I
opened my eyes, I realized that we were now laying down and cuddling on my
couch.  Derek was laying behind me, and holding me tight in his arms.  I didn’t
look behind me, but I could tell that he was asleep by his smooth, deep
breathing.  To be honest, it felt so comforting to be held by such strong,
loving arms, that I closed my eyes again and let myself enjoy it.

Buzz
buzzzzz.  Buzz buzzzzz. 
I woke up to the startling sound of
my cell phone vibrating on my glass living room table.  I opened my eyes and
tried to orientate myself.  Why was I in the living room?  And whose arms were
around me?  I looked out at the table to see two wine glasses.  Ah yes, the
heartbreak hangover.
 

I
quietly tried to detangle myself from Derek’s arms to reach for my cell phone. 
I turned on my screen and saw that I had a text message from Rex.  Sent at
2:11AM.  I clicked on the message and it read: “I am outside of your building. 
Please come out and I can explain xxx.”

Maybe
I was drunk, or maybe I was just past the point of caring, but I slowly
slithered out of Derek’s arms and off the couch.  I looked down at him, and he
rolled over, smiled, and continued to sleep.  He was as happy as a clam.

I
tiptoed into my bathroom to quickly check if I was presentable.  Ugh.
 
My
dramatic cat-eyes turned into psychotic clown-eyes, and my hair had a rat’s
nest in the back.  I quickly wiped the smudged mascara off from under my eyes
with a warm facecloth and brushed my hair.  Good enough.

I
could hear the wind blowing and the rain pitter-pattering against my window, so
I grabbed my rain-jacket before heading out the door to the elevators.  As the
elevator descended to the ground floor, I thought of what to say to him. 
Should I give him a piece of my mind?  The silent treatment?  No matter what, I
could not cry in front of him.  He didn’t deserve the tears.

The
elevator opened on the ground floor, and I walked through the lobby to the
doors.  I could see a dark shadow huddled close to the windows.  I walked
through the doors, and the dark figure turned around to look at me.  There Rex
was.  His eyes were ringed with exhaustion and sadness.  The rain dripped down
his hair, into his eyes, and off his chin.  He was soaked to the bone.  He took
one last drag on his cigarette and threw it to the wet ground.  The red ember
quickly turned orange, yellow, and then disappeared.

“Rose.”

I
looked at him and said nothing.  I breathed in the crisp October air that was
sweetly moistened by the rain.  We stood there silently, listening to the choir
of raindrops.  It would have been a beautiful moment, if not for the feelings
of pain and betrayal hanging over us.

“Rose,”
he said again.  “You don’t know how sorry I am.  I didn’t realize that you
thought you were invited.”  His eyes were wide as he scanned my face, trying to
read my expression.

“I
am glad I wasn’t invited.  I didn’t want to go anyway,” I lied, unconvincingly.
 I turned my body away from his.

“I
know that you are upset,” he went on and moved closer to me, “but please hear
me out.  I snuck out of my hotel to explain.  I knew that there would be lots
of photographers there, so I didn’t want to take you.”

My
heart stung again.  Was this his apology?
 
“I didn’t come out here to be
insulted,” I spat out and started to walk back into my building.

“No,
I mean that I didn’t want to take you because…” he continued and grabbed my arm.
“Because I care about you.”

His
hand stopped me, and I turned around to look at him.  “Well, you have a funny
way of showing it.”

“I
am profoundly defensive against the paparazzi.  Ever since that night with my
mother,” he said.  “She would still be alive today if it wasn’t for them.  I
will never stop wondering about what happened that night.  Why was there such a
large crowd of paparazzi and people but no one was able to protect her?  Why
was that car driving so fast?  The driver doesn’t even know the pain that he
has put us through.”  I could see that this was difficult for him to talk
about, and his eyes were still pleading.  “I think about it every day.  And
when you think about something like that every day, and try to think of an
explanation for why it happened, I can’t help but think that it could have been
prevented.  So now, I can’t help but be protective over the people I care
about.”

“I
understand where you are coming from, but do you really think that the
photographers posed a threat for me at the dinner tonight?  Really?” I
questioned him.  “And what about the other girl you took with you.  Was she not
at risk?”

“The
other girl?” He looked genuinely confused.

“Yes,”
I replied coldly.  “The other girl that the corsage was for.”

“Ohhh,
you mean Rebecca Barton?  No, no, no, you’ve got the wrong end of the stick
there.  I had to go with Rebecca because she is a friend of the family.  It was
all worked out for me before I arrived.  It wasn’t even my decision.”  He
lifted his shoulders up and shrugged.

“A
family friend?” I raised my eyebrows.  “Do you really think I am going to
believe that?”

“God’s
honest truth,” he replied while holding his heart.  “My father is friends with
the Barton family from Boston, and his daughter lives here in Denver.  The
father is the Professor of Fine Art Studies at Harvard University, and their
family is a good family to know in America, so my father arranged that she was
my plus one to this event.”  He shrugged again and then added, “I have met her
a couple of times throughout my life when our families get together, and I
would never think of her romantically.”   

“That
still doesn’t explain why you think that she could handle the photographers and
I couldn’t.  Why would you rather have photos with her in the magazines?”

“I
didn’t want to have pictures of you and me together in the magazines, because I
want my family and friends to meet you first.”  He stared straight into my
eyes.  “So they can know the real you, rather reading lies about you in some magazine. 
The magazines, they don’t have the best manners, you know.  You would be some
American broad trying to steal the limelight, and I would be stamped as an
international player.”

“Oh.” 
It was all I could manage to say as his words whizzed around in my brain.  I
had to admit that he kind of made sense.

“You
are so pure, so beautiful,” he said tenderly.  “I don’t want you to be tainted
by the media first.  I want my family and friends to see the real you.  Your
sparkling personality, your generous heart, your quirky sense of humor.  My dad
will absolutely adore you.”

I
looked down at the ground.  I didn’t know what to say.  I had been so angry and
hurt just moments before, and it was difficult for my emotions to do a complete
turnaround.

Rex
sighed.  “I don’t know what else to say, Rose,” his voice started to get
louder.  “What else do you want from me?”  He lifted his arms up in the air and
thrashed them at his side.  He was becoming more anxious.  More angry.  “You
know, I try to do everything right.  I try to be a good person and put everyone
else’s needs before mine.  I went to Kenya to start my own charity.  I try to
spread my happiness around the world.”  He was becoming more maniacal by the
second, as he paced on the sidewalk and flapped his arms around.  “I constantly
visit other countries, poor people, sick people, and try to make them happy,
but…”

He
was getting angrier as the list continued, so I cut him off.  “I know, I know. 
Everything isn’t all about you, Rex.” 

He
stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me.  I could tell that those words cut
him deep.  “I was going to say, ‘but who cares about my happiness?’  Obviously,
not you.”  His voice had completely changed.  His tone was cold and distant;
his eyes were hurt and hollow.

“Wait,
I didn’t mean it to come out like that.  I just wanted you to stop.  Please
don’t go…”

My
words fell flat, as he turned and started to walk away from me in the rain.  I
was left standing there, feeling alone, guilty, and hurt again.  I watched his
dark figure through the rain until he disappeared out of sight.  I stood there
for a while in the storm, until it was unclear whether the streaks running down
my face were teardrops or raindrops.