Insipid (36 page)

“How did you get over it?” I asked, sincerely wishing I could learn from his mistakes.

“I met you.”

“That’s not necessarily true. You went to rehab before we met.”

“But I was an angry rehab patient. After you, I was a real rehab patient—I opened myself up to the many opportunities to let go of my pain.” He pauses for a moment and then laughs sarcastically. “Well, until you got engaged to Chris.”

“Tell me about the night of the party. What did you want to accomplish then?”

“Honestly, all I wanted was to see you,” he answered bluntly, leaning down to kiss my collarbone. “But the only time he left your side was when you took a bathroom break. I apologize for acting so savagely. Truly, Jade. I couldn’t express myself in any other way. For months, all we had were words and assumptions. I wanted your touch to speak to me this time, to shock me into the realization that you were no longer mine.”

“There was no going back to Chris after that,” I say contritely, and a funny thought crosses my mind. “I saw you take the pen.”

He pretends to smack his hand on his head and laughs, looking the tiniest bit flabbergasted. “Hey, that pen got me through all the months I spent missing you.”

“You? I started requesting for those pens every time I went to the supply room!”

My mind takes me back to that backdrop—the office, the merger—everything that prompts my insecurities about our age difference. I turn to face him, crossing my arms and legs at the same time.

“Why me, Luke?”

He uncrosses my arms and takes my hand in his. “Why not you?”

“I was almost ten years old when you were born.”

“Exactly.”

“I was getting lost in Enid Blyton’s world while you were breastfeeding.”

“Precisely my point. Our age difference means the world in terms of experience and thought and goals, hopes and dreams. It doesn’t mean anything in number of years. So you beat me with
Noddy and the Faraway Tree
by a few years. Same story, same words, read at a different time. Interpreted in a way that reflected our respective life situations. Big deal.”

“Oh my gosh!” I cry in delight. “You read those books? I was obsessed with them. You’re turning me on right now.”

He laughs before leaning over to kiss me. “Jade. Do you see my point here? I’m not here to play around. I choose you because of those years. That ten-year head start is what reels me in. Sophistication, introspection, direction, fortitude. You.”

“Thank you. And for the record, it’s really nine years,” I whisper, moving closer to him as he encircles both arms around me.

He chuckles softly in my ear. “Do you love me, Jade?”

“Oh, Luke. When we were going over whatever it was during the merger, I thought about you every single day. I couldn’t go on without hearing your voice at least once a week. I wanted you so much, I imagined myself with you obsessively.” I can feel my cheeks warm with my admission. “Is this love? I’d like to find this out. Does six months of infatuation equate to love? I don’t know.”

His expression is pained. “You don’t think I love you? God, Jade. Nothing makes sense without you. My life, my career, all this—it’s like walking through a dessert where there’s no sign of life anywhere I turn.”

“You don’t know me,” I remind him, “just like I hardly know you. But the little I know about you, I love. I don’t want to lie to you—I want to fully own the damage that I caused Chris. I want to live in truth from now on. I’ve wanted you since the first day I met you and I need to understand what this means for us. Can we do that together?”

“Yes. Yes, we can. I’ll stay in San Fran and we’ll figure it out.” His upturned eyes and lopsided smile are so gracious that I fall in love with him right there and then.

He’s trying to give me space. We might actually be making some progress.

“Thank you,” I hum into his mouth, playfully biting the crooked top lip that I’ve grown attached to. “I wasn’t kidding when I told you how happy I was that you and I read the same books.”

“Great,” he gripes. “So much for my macho image. I hope you keep this as our little secret.”

“Ours.” I let the robe fall to the floor and straddle him, lowering myself onto him as he groans in pleasure. Slowly, I start to move.

“Oh yeah. Number eight?” he pants heatedly.

“Number eight,” I confirm, my voice emphatic, allowing myself to get lost in this wonderful yet obscure state of contentment.

“WHERE ARE WE
going, Luke?” I ask restlessly as the limo cruises along Lakeshore Drive in Chicago, past the sights that meant something to me at one point or another in my life. Lucas insisted we fly here for what he called a special meeting and I assumed it would have something to do with his business. We just landed on the roof of the Trump Towers minutes ago and already, I’m apprehensive about being back in this town.

One month has passed since we returned from Spain. Lucas has moved into the Four Seasons temporarily and we spend some time getting to know each other while he works out of a rented office during the day. Who would have known that someone as dominant and serious as he is could be one of the funniest people I have ever met? He’s a completely different person now that we’re out of a “work relationship” and honest with each other. He’s easygoing and considerate and I know just where I stand. He still has his moods, but somehow, I’ve been finding subtle ways of bringing him out of them whenever they start to consume his thoughts. There’s something about his arrogance that intrigues me. He’s not pompous, it’s his self-confidence that makes him seem cavalier at times. Success for someone his age goes hand in hand with attitude. I know. I’ve been there.

It’s a whirlwind of activity for us, from shopping and dining to parasailing and surfing. The guy can shop—it’s amazing to watch him in action, picking up statement pieces that make him look like he just walked out of a photo shoot. He chooses things for me, asks me to model them for him, and then attacks me like a mad man in the fitting room. We’ve tested quite a few fitting rooms over the last for weeks.

“So, how’d you rate that one?” he asked me as we walked out, hand in hand, fresh from one of those encounters yesterday.

“A three.” I giggled, conscious of the fact that the salesgirls were looking at me with the utmost envy.

He shook his head in opposition. “Nah, a two. It was too small—I couldn’t stretch my legs.”

I guess I underestimated the appeal of a younger man.

It turns out that his favorite place in the world is Big Sur, a relaxing place where I can spend all day watching him hit the big waves or lazily paddle surf on the days when the water is uncooperatively clear and calm. Maybe one day, he will help me get over my fear of the ocean. Apparently he thinks it will happen someday soon.

I make it a point to call Chris once every week. I miss his friendship, but the past few weeks have made me understand that the love I felt for him was guided by my love for Cia. I know we made the right choice in breaking up, but still, I feel no conclusion between us. I spend my days worrying about tying up the loose ends of my life.

“He’s a late bloomer,” Lucas says of Chris. “He’s just now realizing his dream.”

I don’t disagree with that assessment.

That final thought throws me back into the present. Lucas is clasping my fingers in his, trailing his free hand up the hem of my skirt. I look out the window to see tiny chunks of ice forming in the river.

“Seriously, babe. Where are we going?” I ask, distracted by the feelings he incites in me.

It appears our destination is my former office building. It looks different. Bare yet imposing, and the steps of the entranceway are cordoned off.

“Look, no flower boxes, no birds, no work people. Just us.”

“You, me and the cold, wintry Chicago winds,” I joke, hugging myself to keep warm.

What I just said doesn’t bother him. He smiles as he slowly folds one knee until it reaches the ground. He pulls out a black box and offers it to me. Impulsively, I take a step back. It doesn’t faze him; he staunchly carries on.

“Jade, during my mother’s illness, the tumor in her brain had begun to adversely affect her thoughts and her actions. In the last week of her life, she obsessed about the number 50. One day, she wanted to order fifty pounds of mangoes and send them to every member of our family. The next day, she wanted me to find her fifty pairs of earrings so she could pick out what to wear to her funeral. At first, I didn’t understand why she had such a fixation on such a large quantity of objects. But as she explained it to me, I realized that she was trying to compensate for the shortage in the number of days that she had left in this world by contrasting them against a seemingly considerable amount of things. She wanted to prove to me that one or fifty of something doesn’t change what God has planned for you. I’ve had all that, Jade. I’ve accumulated enough material things that make people envious of me, things that make people think that my world is complete, when the truth is, I had nothing. But you… you make up for everything I’ve lost. You fill my life with everything I will ever need. Marry me. I want to spend the rest of my life getting to know every single thing about you.”

“Luke.” I take his hands, but they remain clasped tightly around the little black box even as I try to get him to stand up.

He doesn’t move, but stubbornly retains his position. “You and I have been through significant losses in our lives,” he continues. “I spent years repenting the past and questioning my future. But after I met you, I realized that there was a plan for me all along, that things had to happen in this order because the person that I am now was molded by those events in my life. All my doubts disappear whenever I’m with you. You make me want to live, to cherish life. I’ve never laughed so much with anyone else as I have with you. I want to be all that you are to me. I want to be your last love. That daily train you used to get on, the one you’ve memorized in your sleep. That was long gone ever since you met me. I would be honored to take this journey with you. I’m your last train, Jade. Make me your last train home.”

I reach out my hand to caress his face tenderly before taking hold of both hands once again and leading him towards our favorite place. “Come, let’s sit.”

This time he follows me and takes a seat down on the very steps where this all started between us. I can’t help myself. I take his face in my hands and pour my soul into him with a kiss. He bows his head down as soon as I pull away.

“How can you be so sure?” I ask quietly.

“You’re asking me this because you’re not,” he confirms sadly.

“Please. Please hear me out. What we have is an attraction for each other that’s out of this world. But these last few months—if there’s any indication of what we’ve shared, I can’t remember anything but the waiting, the wishing, and the fact that you never reciprocated the way that I felt. I’m still getting over believing that you were everything to me and I was nothing to you.”

“That’s not fair, Jade. You know that I was trying to work on myself before coming to see you.” He looks at me beseechingly, his hands still gripping the tiny black box. I know he’s trying to make me understand, but up until a month ago, I had no idea he felt that way about me.

“Regardless of your reasons, this is how I was made to feel.”

“You’re finding an excuse to run away again. When are you going to stop running?” His walls are slowly building back up. I can feel it in the iciness of his tone; his body language turns stiff and distant.

“Look, I fell for you during a crazy time in my life. I want to be able to fall in love with you naturally and not obsess about you because I’m lonely and alone. All I’m asking is that we give it more time.”

“But that’s why I love you,” he pleads softly. “You loved me through all that, despite the fact that I was never there for you.”

“I don’t know if I can take having another child again,” I leak out.

He looks absolutely shocked, but retains his composure. “W-We can talk about that later.”

“Luke. I just want to be sure.” I am suddenly terrified at knowing the effect that these words will have on him.

He stands up with his back towards me and speaks clearly, devoid of any emotion. “I’ve faced my fears, Jade. When are you going to face yours?”

“You continued to sleep with other women after you met me. And now you’re telling me that you felt the same way about me from day one? Call me a coward, but at least I’m being honest. I just don’t believe you,” I spit out indignantly. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head disbelievingly, as if he can’t fathom how I could be so emotionless, so unfeeling. “So the past few weeks have meant nothing to you?”

“They mean too much,” I dispute weakly.

“What are you so afraid of?” he asks, frustration written all over his face.

“I’m not afraid. I just need time.”

He shakes my hand off as I try to spin him around to face me. “You of all people should know that sometimes we don’t get the benefit of time. It’s now or never. Either you want me or you don’t.”

“There you go again! Making demands on me. I—”