Not Looking for Love: Episode 6 (A New Adult Contemporary Romance Novel) (20 page)

"You look very nice," he says, and kisses my cheeks, the heat in my stomach intensifying.
 

"Shall we?" I ask, a little out of breath.
 

It's still early, so the beach is more or less empty, though a few families are already unpacking around us. Their fast paced conversation soon fills the air.

"I can't get over how even little four year olds can have so much to say." I smile, watching a tiny brown haired girl arguing with her grandmother.

And bam! I'm thinking of the child me and Scott might have had, Sarah, and whether she'd have brown hair like mine, or blonde like Scott's. The smile is still stuck on my face, but I want to cry.
 

Leo is laughing, completely unaware of how close I am to tears. "She doesn't like the way her grandmother inflated her swimming sleeves. She wants them softer."

I have no idea what he's talking about. Probably the pink Hello Kitty bubbles the grandmother is forcing onto the girl's arm now, to an increasing screech from the little girl.

I stand up and pull the dress over my head. "I'm going for a swim."

I want to spend some time with my head under the water. Maybe the cold water will chase it all away.

Leo comes too. He’s not interested in swimming though. After a few strokes he wades over and scoops me up in his arms, holding me so close I can clearly feel the outline of his hard cock against my hip. Desire and revulsion have it out inside me. I could just go along with it, lose myself in the infatuation Leo feels for me. But I don't want anyone else inside me. Only Scott.
 

The thought frightens me, makes me turn rigid, then I start shivering. What if it never goes away? What if I never get over Scott? What if I never want another man?

I push away from Leo and dive to the ocean floor. I focus on the blur all around me, trying to think of nothing. Sand is swirling around me, sunlight coming through in shafts. I kick away from Leo and don't come up for air until my lungs start burning and my whole being enters survival mode. The first breath I take as my head breaks the surface brings all the clarity I need.

I'll never be able to move on until I have closure. Until I can chase away the nagging hope that Scott is still pining over me as much as I'm pining for him. If he tells me to move on, to leave him alone now, I will. And I'll never look back. I'll go on a real date with Leo, let him spend the night with me.

But I have to know first. I need closure.

"Where are you going?" Leo calls after me as I stumble out of the ocean, the salt water stinging my eyes.
 

This might be the dumbest idea I've had yet, or the best one. I'm not sure. But now that I’ve decided, I'll never be able to turn back until I go through with it.
 

"I just remembered that I have to make an urgent call today!" I yell back, already pulling on my dress, not even bothering to dry off first. It sticks to my wet bathing suit, and I probably look like the biggest mess of a girl that ever was, but if I don't move now, I might change my mind.

I should've done it sooner. Should've checked where Scott was at weeks ago, as soon as I realized not a single day passes without me thinking of him.

Leo grabs my arm as I move to pick up my bag. He looks put out, I think, or maybe he's just squinting because the salt water is running into his eyes too.

"I thought we would have some lunch now," he says, not letting go of my arm.
 

I shake his hand off, and continue stuffing my towel into my bag. "Later, OK? I'll call you."

And then I stride off, don't wait for the two goodbye kisses from him.

But once I get to my hotel room I just sit on the edge of the bed, until my dress and my bathing suit dry, holding my phone, unable to press call.

The maid comes, but I send her away. Leo calls twice, but I don't pick up.
 

What the hell do I say to Scott? Will he even pick up?
 

I'm stuck in my decision now, won't be able to move until I carry it out. But my fingers are stiff, paralyzed as I watch the shadows lengthen along the ceiling, listen to the sea gulls screeching outside, the cars, the people all going about their day below my window. I'm stuck in this room, in this bubble in time and space, only nothing is standing still, and I could miss so much if I don't find a way to get unstuck.

Who the fuck is calling this early?
Judging by the angle of sunlight streaming into the bedroom it can't be much later than eleven, and I didn't get to sleep until past seven this morning. My head feels like it's filled with cotton balls, as I dig through the mess on my nightstand looking for my phone. It's probably Dad, or Marjorie. I've had a slew of calls from them, when I turned the phone on again about two weeks ago. I'll end up not answering, so I’m really just looking for it so I can turn the ringer off. Which I was sure I had done the last time it rang.

GAIL is flashing on the screen. I stop mid-reach, at least ten pounds of lead landing heavily in my stomach. It can't be, I'm just dreaming. This is just one of those super realistic dreams I've been having. Though I've never felt this alive in any of them.
 

"Gail?" I ask as I pick up, not thinking twice. Since, fuck it, even if this is just a dream I might as well go along with it.

She says something so quickly and shrilly I don't catch a single word. Then all I hear are her sharp breaths on the other side.
 

But by this time I'm fully aware that I am actually awake, and bone chilling fear is replacing any confusion still left in my mind. Did Mike do something to her?

"Are you alright? Can you speak more slowly?”

She gasps, takes a deep breath. “Yes.”
 

Just the sound of her breathing is enough to get me half hard, and I don't think I've ever wanted anything as much as I want to touch her right now. Or just look into her eyes, watch her lips move as she speaks.

"I'm calling because I want to know something," she says, a little more slowly. But there's still a breathless urgency in her voice. "We left things between us unresolved, I think, and it's now been almost five months, and I'm still wishing we could at least talk about some of them, and I just wanted to call and see if you think so too. If you tell me to leave you alone right now, I will never call you again, I promise, but I just have to know."

"Yes," I say the second she pauses for breath.

She gasps again. "Yes, what?"

I smile, picturing the confused slash annoyed look that must be plastered across her face right now, at my less than articulate answer.

"Yes, I would much rather still be with you," I elaborate. It's the first thing that pops into my head, and all sorts of warnings are going off, but none of them loud enough to stop me. "And I still think about you everyday."

"Why then?" she asks, leaving it at that. The confusion in her voice is like an ice pick through my heart.

"It's…I don't know—"

"Yes you do, Scott. But you're not telling me," she snaps, but her voice is all brittle underneath the anger, like she'll just break apart at any moment.

"You should be with someone more suitable," I manage, though the words are like jagged rocks in my mouth. She should be with me. Always. Forever. I didn't even know I could hate Mike worse than I already did, but it's happening now.

"Have you found someone more suitable?" she asks, her voice breaking on the last word.

"I don't think that's actually ever gonna happen," I whisper. I should be ending this conversation, not giving her hope. Not letting myself hope.
 

"It didn’t work out with your ex then?" she asks, a bit of an edge back in her voice. The pang of guilt stabbing me now drives all common sense right out of my mind.

"I never fucked Marissa that night," I say.

"Why'd you lie then?" she shrieks, and I can just see her eyes popping. Her warm, chocolate colored eyes glowing with golden flames.

"Gail, listen—"

"Just tell me the truth," she interrupts. "For once. Can you? Can you do that, Scott?"

"It's not something I can just explain over the phone," I mutter. It's such a halfhearted attempt. I don't want to stop talking to her, ever. Never did. Especially not now, when each word she says reminds me just how much I missed hearing her voice these past few months. Not now that I'm right back in loving her, realizing the months I've spent clawing out from it achieved exactly nothing.

She's silent now, just breathing into the phone.
 

"Do you want to see me again?" she finally asks.

"Yes." More than anything.

"Then I'm coming to see you," I say. "Where are you?"

"What, now?" I ask. She can't come here. Mike can't spot her anywhere near me. The panic is actually choking me now. I've fucked all this up. Again. Just like I always do.

She's saying something, but I don't understand a single word.

"Wait, Gail, no, it's not a good idea."

"I can be there tomorrow night, probably," she says, right over my words. "What do you mean it's not a good idea?"

"It's Mike," I say, because I can tell her over the phone, and I should.
 

"What?" she sounds lost now, scared, disoriented like she just woke from one of her nightmares. I hate to be the one to tell her she never woke up at all, that she's still right in the middle of the nightmare. Has been for the past four months. So I don't think about anything, I just tell her.

"He called me on that night I broke up with you. Said I can't see you anymore, or he'd kill you, and kill your dad." Once I start talking, the words just spill out. I tell her everything, don't even leave out the part about wanting to just kill myself. Or the psychiatrist’s warning that Mike's not to be antagonized. I have no idea when she started crying, but she's sobbing into the phone by the time I finally finish.
 

"So you see, it really is better that you never have anything to do with me again," I finish, kinda wanting to cry too. Even though I haven't been able to since the first few weeks. The tragedy of it all just makes my eyes sting now, makes my chest burn, but no tears ever come.

"You should've said," she hiccups.

"Mike warned me not to." It sounds like a lame excuse, but that's just part of the tragedy. Yet I can still avoid it. Gail can still avoid it.

"So if he sees us together, he'll kill my dad?" she asks, her voice small.

"That's his threat," I say. Hearing it spoken by her makes me want to smash something.
 

"My dad's in Syria right now," she says, her voice firmer now. "I doubt he can reach him there. And we can meet in secret, Scott, we can do that. I want to see you, I have to see you."

"Don't you get it?" I say, much too sharply. But she's saying exactly what I want her to say, and precisely the thing she shouldn't be. "Mike's a psycho. He already hurt you once. Do you want him to do it again?"

"Calm down, Scott. Be rational about this. We can work this out. Together," she says, in her strictest teacher's voice. And out of everyone I know, she's the only one who can disagree with me like this, and actually make me change my mind on the spot.

"Why would you want to risk it?"

"You can be so dense," she sighs. "Because I love you and I don't want to live without you. Not over something that can be fixed. It's not because I'm insane."

"I wasn't saying that," I retort.

"But you were thinking it," she snaps back.

"Never."

"Right. Never. Not even way in the beginning." Her sarcasm is oozing out of the phone now.

"No, I just thought you were acting a little weird," I say and smile, even though this whole situation is not even remotely funny.

"So you agree?" she asks.

"With what?"

"That we should work this out together." She puts a lot of emphasis on the last word, and it sounds kinda like a question, but I was gonna say it anyway.

"Gail, I love you too, and I always will." It's what I've been telling her in my dreams for all these months we’ve spent apart. It feels good to finally say it again in real life. It feels right. "But we should reconsider. Maybe down the line, when things get resolved."

"No. We resolve it now," she says, fire in her voice. "I'll fly out tomorrow, and then we fix this. For good this time."

My heart's pounding now, because she's suggesting things that probably can't be done. Or maybe it's because, I have to see her so bad, I can't say no, not for all the reasons in the world.

"I'll make the reservation and call you back in a little bit to tell you when I'm coming," she says, her voice all purpose. "Don't worry, Scott. We can fix this."

There's such sureness in her voice that I want to believe. Even for just a little it.

But as soon as she hangs up, it all comes crashing back. Vlado and his ice cold psychotic stare, Mike's matter-of-fact voice as he tells me he'll make Gail suffer, my own inability to solve any of it.
 

But I can't call Gail back and make her stay away. Hearing her voice after months of silence brought an all consuming need to see her. And the anticipation of that dream finally coming true is too strong, too pleasant, too right to say no to her again. That’s always been hard, and it’s impossible now.