Heartbreak for Dinner: It's Kind of a Long Story (22 page)

Jonah’s car pulled up to the driveway
and the gates closed behind us as the car came to a complete stop.
A guard opened
my door and I stepped out with unsteady feet, thanking him in a voice barely audible
over the roaring thunder on the horizon. In an instant, he was by my side, handing
his keys to the same gentleman. He opened the back door and the dog – who we’d named
Lucy – jumped out, violently wagging her tail. The guard gave Jonah a confused look,
but took her to one of the guest rooms as instructed. As we walked up the steps
arm in arm, Jonah babbled about some wine Eleonore had brought him from her last
trip to France. He continued on, my mind too wrapped around the implausible events
of the night to focus on his ramblings. The door clicked shut and he looked at me
expectantly, repeating something.

“So, yes to the wine and Richart?” he inquired in a terrible French
accent and I grimaced jokingly. “I promise it’ll make you feel better.”

I inspected him standing in the faint hallway light, concern invading
his features as he leaned down and kissed my forehead. Struck by a premonition,
I felt a sudden pang of nerves and anxiety when his lips left my skin. He ultimately
decided for me and grabbed my hand, gliding us through the main area to reach the
back. Sliding open a colossal door, we descended steps worthy of Versailles and
he led me to a pavilion to the left. Beyond it, a garden spread out brimming with
flowers and plush greenery. There were a few canopied couches to my right and four
swings facing the pool, which glowed with iridescent light before me.

“I think I’ll sit here,” I suggested, my spirits lifting as I took
in the water shining in a night that would soon break day.

He nodded and absconded into the massive expanse that was his home.
I readjusted his jacket on my shoulders, my astonishment bleeding into complete
awe as I absorbed my surroundings. A static noise startled me and almost immediately,
I recognized a familiar voice filling the air from nearby speakers. John Mayer crooned
about lost lovers and I inhaled the sweet bouquet of the impending dawn, unfazed
by how little time I had left before life resumed its normalcy. Jonah returned to
me after the first song stopped playing. He held a bottle of wine in one hand and
two glasses in the other. Handing them to me, a dark red liquid swirled in them
with the promise of the unknown. Once again he was gone, reappearing with a box
of truffles and making a home on the swing next to me. We ate and drank in comfortable
silence.

It’d been so many years since I first placed eyes on him, oblivious
to just how much he would alter the course of my destiny. Years since the first
time we’d kissed, a thousand strangers shielding us from the stares of those we
dared not hurt. Years since he’d stolen my heart and I’d allowed it, the right time
to express my reciprocity always a constant fugitive. It’d been years since I’d
realized our love was only a lesson in torture that would never materialize into
anything but pain. Years of an agonizing futility marked with calculated escapes
and unplanned returns. Years . . . and there we were.

Thunder rumbled in the distance and Jonah turned, raising an eyebrow
at me. “That sounds ominous,” he got off the swing and walked over to where I sat.
I wondered what he had up his sleeve as he grabbed our drinks and set them down.
“Are you tired?” he asked eventually, boldly reaching around my neck and unpinning
my hair slowly. I remained still and allowed him to, holding back my piqued curiosity.
He opened his mouth as if to say something but chose otherwise, playing with a strand
of my hair instead. I
was
tired, but I was also fueled by alcohol and wanting
him more than ever. Grabbing his hand, I kissed it softly and rested my face on
his palm, eyes shut tightly so as not to betray my forbidden thoughts of him.

“Get up,” he commanded after a while, and I gladly obeyed.

He pulled me in gently for a dance
and his laughter pierced the atmosphere – sweeter than his beloved Richart and more
intoxicating than any expensive wine from Bordeaux. I placed my head on his shoulder
and gradually shifted the weight of my body from side to side as we moved. Caring
about fights at a country club I’d never set foot in again, taking shots with friendly
strangers we would never see again, avoiding cars while running in heels through
an expressway, competing for his affection with someone who belonged in his world
more than I ever would, it was all part of a trivial actuality. I took comfort in
knowing that when it came to our story, no one else in the history of ever would have the pleasure
of duplicating it. Because
that is the essence of love, constructing a song that will never be copied by anyone
else. Surrendering to the moment, I allowed myself to hazily picture how it could’ve
all been. The rain began to come down in the garden and I shivered slightly in his
arms.

“I love you,” the words escaped him and I pulled back instinctively,
frozen. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been waiting to say that all day.”

“Jonah . . .” I heard
myself breathe his name, my heart hanging on a string he held loosely around his
fingers. I clasped his hand and gestured him toward the swings, sitting alongside
him. “Maybe you do,” I reluctantly conceded, my voice shaking, “but what exactly
do you intend to do about it, cancel your million dollar wedding to Miss Texas and
elope with me? Get real.”

He grabbed the bottle of wine and inhaled the remainder of its contents
in one gulp, throwing it on the grass carelessly once he was finished. “I don’t
know what I intend to do,” his scowling profile alarmed me. “I just love you. And
you know what? Your reply is pretty damn low, even from the likes of you.”

The intuition I should probably go
before the conversation escalated into something I’d likely regret washed over me,
yet I did nothing to dodge the oncoming tidal wave. “The likes of me?” I huffed.
“I’m sorry I don’t fit into your perfect little world, Jonah. If we’re being honest,
I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing with you right now. It’s not like I asked
to be here.”

“You are here because you’re supposed
to be here,” he barked. “You’re here because I love you. You’re here because no
one else matters more to me after my mother and sister. And maybe, just maybe, this
is life’s way of giving us a final chance before we take roads that’ll never again
lead us back to this place. You know it’s all true, Annah, so tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong,” I swallowed and my
eyes brimmed with tears I’d never allow to fall in his presence. “You and I, it’s
like repeatedly putting your hand to a flame and actually wanting to get burned.
And you know what the problem is, Jonah? I enjoy that heat, but it never fails that
when it’s over, I’m in the dark on how to treat the wounds you inflict. It isn’t
fair to pick at scars that have taken years to heal just because you’re having some
sort of short-lived epiphany. Just go on and marry her. Live this life you’re intended
to live. Play golf, buy expensive cars, go to fucking Fiji on holiday or whatever
it is you rich people do,” I sighed bitterly, “but please let me go. I am beyond
over the story of us.”

He remained pensive for a moment, the sound of silence slicing air
already too thin for breathing. I watched the sun begin its emergence with regret
and knew it would all be drawing to its inevitable end soon, as I allowed my poisonous
words to settle. Jonah got up from the swing and positioned himself in front of
me, breathing slowly. “You know something?” he said icily. “I think I should be
able to say precisely what I want right now without any bullshit backlash from you.
Especially, knowing none of this would’ve happened had you not been so needy and
stupid back then, rushing into something you didn’t want in the first place like
some spoiled child in search of a new toy. Did you like your new toy, Annah? Was
it sparkly enough for you?”

I felt a sting sear my hand before I became conscious of having slapped
him. Jonah stared back at me with hard eyes, the rest of him devoid of any emotion
as blood rushed to the place my palm had struck. I prayed I had inflicted the same
amount of pain his words had caused and got up to leave, when I realized I had no
car.

“You’re taking me to my hotel now,” I glared at him and flung his
jacket on the floor. The cool air penetrated my skin and I folded my arms across
my chest, staring off into the distance and suppressing back angry tears.

“That’s where you’re wrong, cupcake. I’m not taking you anywhere,”
he replied coolly. “You’ve said your peace and now I intend to make mine, even if
you never speak to me again,” he covered the distance between us in several strides.
Cupping my chin abruptly and tipping it up, I was left no choice but to look at
him. “Knowing you, you probably weren’t planning to at all, were you? You excel
at being a cold bitch that way,” his last words were dripping with such hatred,
a chill went down my spine. I headed back to the house and wondered if Eleonore
would be able to hear me if I screamed. As if absorbing my intentions telepathically,
he turned me and came down with such force I had to hold on to him for balance.
Our lips collided without a second for processing or reaction. He kissed me roughly,
gripping my waist and neck savagely.

“Let me go, Jonah!” I pulled away and punched his chest in a rage,
furious at his insolence, yet wanting nothing more than to remain there. He grabbed
a handful of my hair and moved my face inches from his own.

“I have done nothing in this life but let you go. Indulging your delusions
and requests has been a greater part of our friendship, princess,” he calculated
his words carefully, like knifes he’d handpicked to do an important kill. “Tomorrow,
when you get on that plane, you can consider yourself dead to me, just as you’ve
requested. And it’ll give me pleasure to think that every time you remember what
a great job you’ve done at pushing me away, it’ll haunt the fuck out of you. Tonight
though,” he sneered, “you’ll belong to no one else.”

I no longer had the strength to fight the current as he carried me
and walked to where the couches were lined up. He set me down gently in front of
one and drank me in with hungry eyes, making no effort to move or speak. I was wearing
my long red dress from the wedding, yet I’d never felt so starkly exposed. I saw
his jaw muscles twitch as he seethed in silence, holding back words I’m sure would
bruise me even further. Measuring my breath, I took a step toward him until the
heat emanating from his body perforated my skin.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured.

He looked down and chose silence, the steady meeting of the rain and
ground the only audible sound as I held my breath. His hand brushed my shoulder
and he slid the strap of my dress off, biting the area where it had just been. “I
hate you,” he whispered in my ear and moved away from me. Gathering courage, I slid
the other strap down myself and kissed his fingers gently, the need to use words
no longer imperative. I took off his tie and moved unsteady fingers to his shirt,
beginning to unbutton it. Jonah allowed my longing to take me where it wanted, immobile
as I undressed him piece by piece, until he stood in front of me with nothing on.

“Are you done now?” he questioned, half smiling.

Nodding, I said nothing.

“Good,” he placed one hand under my waist,
unzipping my dress with the other and stripping it off me as he pushed me under
the canopy of the couch. I gasped as he grabbed my hips and brought his lips to
my neck, alternating between soft kisses and bites. I pushed myself up toward him,
eager to be consumed, but he pushed me back down and grabbed my hair to force our
mouths together again. A fire pooled in my lower stomach and I dug my nails into
his shoulders, begging him to stop.

“Patience,” he growled and grazed his lips on mine. “I thought you
wanted to leave?”

I held back the urge to slap him again.

He got up and closed the curtains that lined
the canopy, secluding us from the rainy world outside. I inhaled sharply as he came
down to me again, securing my hands above my head together with his tie. As I lay
there helplessly, he explored every part of my body with his tongue, an explosion
on the verge of approaching taking place when he got to my center. I was still shaking
when he brought his face up to mine once more. We kissed for an undefined amount
of time and the sun finally shone through the curtains, igniting me again to a readiness
seven years in the making. He looked at me and suspended my consciousness with his
blue eyes, outlining my jaw with his fingers all the way down to my neck. There
he rested his hand defiantly, and I inhaled and exhaled loudly, loathing him for
the first time.

Defeated, I allowed his will to take its
course. He cautiously undid his tie from my wrists and set my hands free to their
path as well. I glided a hand to his hair and another to his back. Once more, his
lips walked the surface of my body, settling on my hips for longer than a warm blooded
human could handle. I came to the realization he was teasing me as a means of exacting
his revenge with no true intent to go any further, and just when I was about to
give up, he was inside. The initial pain of his manhood quickly gave way to pleasure
and even quicker to my fruition. I could only imagine Eleonore and the rest of the
staff heard me – along with half of his neighborhood – as he placed a hand over
my mouth and bid me to exert self-control. The bite marks and scratches infused
with blood I left on him proved that wasn’t possible.

When I finally lay my head on his chest an hour later, Jonah stroked
my hair and shortly after succumbed to a deep sleep. Enjoying the moment seemed
counterintuitive once the spell had been broken, so I simply did what was best to
protect my heart from a breakdown of the emotional kind. Detangling myself from
his embrace, I dressed quietly outside of the canopy. I crawled back in gingerly
next to him and committed his face to memory in the morning light. Unaware of my
intentions to desert him once more, he nuzzled my ear lovingly in half-consciousness.
As I lay there draped in red, I found it profoundly ironic how the place in which
I wanted to be the most was the place in which I didn’t belong. In retrospect, there
had never been a time when we had truly belonged at all.