One Swinging Summer (33 page)

I couldn't keep the pain from showing on my face. Caleb had always said he could tell what I was thinking, and I let him see the longing in my eyes.

"Me too."

I stayed another hour or so, forcing myself not to run home in tears the minute Caleb left. But then I realized that neither my mind nor my heart was still here and I wasn't having any fun. I also realized that the person I was trying to prove something to by staying and pretending I wasn't affected wasn't here to notice anyway. I went home numb and on auto-pilot, to try and make it through the night alone.

CHAPTER 41
ANSWERS

Saturday dragged on forever. I tried to work, but gave up after a couple of hours and went home to marinate in my own misery. My imagination tortured me with possible scenarios from Caleb's birthday night without me at That Other Club. I kept waiting for the phone to ring, for Caleb to call and put an end to my pain. I tried to warn myself that it was possible that the pain was just beginning, that depending on what Caleb said, the pain could get worse. A lot worse.

But at least I would know. It's the not knowing that was killing me. I could develop a plan of action once I had the facts. This waiting, wondering, was making me sick to my stomach.

I ran through the possible outcomes once again in my head, trying to stick to generalities and not dwell on all the possible gory details. As far as I could see, there were really only two possible outcomes. Caleb could say that he had a nice time visiting with everyone, enjoyed the birthday lap dances in the public area, but never even went into the back room. He could say that he missed me there, that it wasn't the same without me. That he wanted a life with me and if that meant no more sex clubs, he was fine with that. That would be easy. A no-brainer, so to speak.

Or, Caleb could say he had the best time yet last night, and didn't even miss me. He could have had a wild night, doing everyone and their sister six ways to Sunday, and was never going to give this life up. That would hurt, but the decision part would still be easy. It would be hard to hear, and even harder to function for a while, but I would eventually get over him.

Now if he would only call. I wasn't really expecting to hear from him until the afternoon. I was sure that, whatever had gone down, he would sleep in. Once it hit about two in the afternoon, my heart started racing, my stomach really started rolling, and I just knew that any second now I would know.

The hours slowly, painfully, ticked by. Seriously Caleb? What the hell? He had to know I was suffering. I bounced back and forth between being pissed that he hadn't called, and devastated. Surely not hearing from him meant that he just didn't want to tell me. And that couldn't be good.

I fought the temptation to call him. There is no way that I was going to break down and call him. I was not going to come crawling. I had done enough giving. I would wait him out, come hell or high water.

I eventually fell asleep on the couch. When I woke up it was Sunday, and I knew it was over. If it had gone my way, he would have called. The only reason not to call was because he couldn't face me. Even over the phone. The only reason not to call was because he couldn't get up the nerve to tell me how it had gone, what all he had done. The man is a cop. He faces life and death decisions every day. If he can't dial a damn phone, it is even worse than I imagined.

OK, I told myself, there's your answer. Happy now? You can move on. Fuck him then. Fuck him and the horse he rode in on. Who needs his ass anyway?

Sunday dragged even slower. I finally got dressed and went to a movie. Sitting alone in the loud, dark theater was better than sitting at home. I turned my phone off as the movie started. See, fuck you, I'm unavailable. Just try to call now, see how little I care? I let the movie take me away for a couple of hours. When it was over I ducked into another one. I didn't even look up above the door to see what was playing.

When that one was over I headed home. I fought the urge to turn the phone back on, to check for messages. "Take that," I said out loud in my car as I put the phone down on the seat beside me, still off. I drove through some place and got some food. I parked the car in their parking lot and ate from the bag. I wasn't feeling social enough to even go inside, but I wasn't quite ready to go home either.

It was getting late, and home really was the only place left to go. I waited until I got inside and sat down on the couch to turn my phone back on. No messages. Well, hell.

I stared at it for a minute, not sure how to feel. What good does it do to ignore someone's calls if they don't even know it? I nearly jumped out of my skin when it rang in my hand. Caleb. Fucking figures, I swear.

"Yeah?" I answered, gruffly.

"You're pissed." I heard the statement in my ear.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"You are really pissed. I get that. I'm so sorry. I should have called yesterday."

I didn't answer him. Silence filled the air.

"Look, I just needed time to think, that's all. I sat down a few times to call you. But I didn't know what to say to you. So I chickened out, every time. I'm sorry. Really."

More silence on my end. He didn't try to fill it this time.

I finally said,"You called, you must have something to say. What did you figure out?"

"Nothing. That's the problem."

"What the hell kind of answer is that?"

"I went, like you said. I tried to give it an honest shot. To be single. I had fun, I won't lie. But I missed you. I wanted you there beside me. Kate and Michael missed you. It's not the same without you. I know you are wanting some kind of grand revelation, some kind of realization that you mean everything to me, and that I'm done with these clubs too. But honestly, nothing has changed for me. I like that place. I like it a lot. I like the sexiness of it. I like the Lakehouse, too. But I missed you there with me. I missed you in my bed. I missed waking up with you, I missed spending Saturday and today with you. What I was putting off telling you wasn't that I'd rather have the clubs. That would be easy to say, if it was true. It would be one tough five minute conversation, but then I'd be free. I'd say "I don't want to give this up for you," and you would have your answer, and so would I, but it's not true.

It would also be easy to make you happy and just say, "I am fine with giving this up, it is you I want." It would be easy to say that to keep the peace and make you happy. And for some reason if I ever regretted that, or resented you, I could always go back. These clubs aren't going away. They will always be there. If not going doesn't work for me after a while, well... I told you that before I went alone. I told you I was fine not coming here. The hard part in calling you is to be honest with you. The hard part is to tell you that yes, I will give this up for you, but I don't want to. I can't see the future, I don't know if we are forever, I don't know if in six months I will change my mind and go back to That Other Club. The hard part is telling you that I can't honestly tell you I won't regret giving that up for you. Nothing has changed for me at all. It was a fun night, but I'm still me."

Well fuck, I thought. This weekend of torture got me exactly nowhere. We are in exactly the same spot as we were before he went alone. Except...

"Did you fuck anyone?"

A pause on the line. I don't think he was expecting the question. At least not yet, at this point in the conversation.

"No." He finally said. "I was also dreading this part. I don't want to hurt you, but I knew you would ask what happened. No, I didn't fuck anyone. But I did do stuff. I did take advantage of the situation I was in, of course. That was the whole point of breaking up, right? So I would be single. I didn't have a girlfriend that night, it was my birthday, and I did do some things, but I didn't fuck anybody."

He was rambling.
"So you went into the back room?" I asked him, obviously already knowing the answer.

"Yes." Caleb said quietly. I could tell he wasn't enjoying this conversation, but neither was I.

"What all did you do?"

"I don't really want to tell you. I don't want to hurt you."

"You went into the back room with someone? But you didn't fuck her?"

"Yes...." He stated, drawing it out like there was more but he couldn't bring himself to say.

"So what did you do? Kissing? Touching? Oral?"

Again, "Yes..."

Silence again. My heart was breaking.

He said, "Look, I told you I didn't fuck anyone, and I didn't. When you think about what goes on in there, it wasn't that bad. I mean, a blow-job isn't..."

"I can't talk to you right now." I interrupted him, and hung up.

When I finally went to bed, I tossed and turned. I couldn't turn my mind off, and I was miserable, sad and angry. Imagined scenes played through my head. Caleb getting lap dances. Caleb getting a blow job. When I finally fell into a fitful sleep, even my dreams were haunted by him. My brain turned my dreams into a weird playboy movie where Caleb was Hugh Hefner, and all the bunnies were people from the sex clubs. I was almost grateful when morning came.

The next week was rough. My thoughts bounced back and forth like a ping-pong ball. Every time I started to soften toward Caleb, thinking that he only did what I told him to do, I would imagine him in that back room getting blown. I used that image to harden my resolve, to keep me angry. I wasn't ready to admit that I had done this to myself as well.

I had wanted to know. I had wanted to be sure. I pushed him to go. But he should take some blame too, I thought, bringing the anger back again. He didn't have to go. He could have said no, knowing how I felt. And he sure as hell didn't have to have quite so much fun, knowing that I was sitting at home wondering about him.

My rational mind tried to interrupt every now and then, telling me that a blow job really wasn't that big, in the scheme of things. He didn't sleep with anyone. We were technically broken up. It wasn't cheating. If he had met some girl when we were together and let her blow him, yeah that would be cheating, and this would be over. But, we did this knowingly. And the whole point was to see what he would do there alone, and if he could be OK with not going back there. We had jumped into the deep end of this erotic pool head first, can a relationship survive that? If one wants out and the other doesn't? Can you really go back to 'normal'?

I got a text from him out of the blue in the middle of the week. I took a deep breath before I opened it. "I miss you."

I stared at that short, simple text. My heart beating fast, my stomach reacting to the fact that he had reached out. I started to tear up. For some reason tearing up pissed me off again. How dare my body betray me. How dare my eyes tear, and my heart speed up. How dare my stomach react. I replayed some of the more painful imaginings of what went on in the back room, calling on the anger to fill me again.

I thought of him enjoying a woman's mouth, his hands in her hair. Knowing how I felt about him and not caring that while he was being sucked on, I was suffering.

"Fuck Off." I texted back.

That felt good. Then after a minute, I caved a little.

"I miss you too, damn you." Flew off my fingers before I could stop them from hitting send.

Then again with, "But fuck off anyway."

I knew I was being an ass, but I couldn't help it.

CHAPTER 42
REPLACEMENT

I spent Friday dealing with my failing romance by indulging in the age-old coping mechanism known as retail therapy. I blew off work and spent a shit-load of money. I had a trunk-full from the stores I had visited throughout the day, and was finishing up my cash purge inside my favorite stripper store.

It was getting late and I wasn't going to have much time to go home and change before going to the bar, so I decided to get a new dress and a new pair of shoes and wear them out of the store. As I was heading to the cashier so she could cut my tags off and ring me up, I paused in front of the sex toy section.

Wow, quite a selection. They had penises in every size, shape and color. Some required batteries, some strapped on, and some stuck out in two directions from a joined middle. Interesting. I found myself seriously contemplating one of the tamer ones, requiring batteries. I grabbed it before I could change my mind, and headed for the counter. I justified it by thinking that the way my non-boyfriend relationship was going, I was probably going to need it. I hadn't heard from Caleb since I told him, twice, to fuck off. Imagine that.

The cashier graciously de-tagged my clothes while they were on my body, and rang me up, toy included. "We also have batteries," she mentioned, pointing out the small display.

"Yes, please." I responded. She looked closer at the small print on my new toy, and choose the appropriate batteries for me, ringing them up as well. She also tossed in a small, black box.

"That wasn't mine." I spoke up.

She smiled and said, "That's a freebie. This weekend that is a free gift with any toy purchase."

"Sweet. I like free stuff." I smiled back at her, not even asking what I got. I'll just be surprised later when I got home, I was running late.

I climbed into my car, threw my small toy bag on the seat beside me, and took the top down on the car. It was looking to be a beautiful night. I headed toward my bar, for the first time all day allowing myself to think about the night ahead of me.

I was nervous about seeing Caleb, but determined to go about my normal routine.

I was standing with a group of friends when Caleb appeared in front of me. I was startled by his sudden appearance. 'I must still be really angry if I didn't feel him enter the bar.' I smiled at the thought.

Caleb noticed. "A smile. I must say I am surprised. I was expecting you to claw my eyes out."

"I smiled because I just realized that for the very first time, I didn't feel you come in. I didn't feel you." I repeated, relishing the enjoyment that the statement brought me. "My body didn't react merely to your presence in the room. I didn't sense you, you just appeared. See, I am getting over you. As a matter of fact, I just replaced you an hour ago." I said, referring to my newly bought toy. "So yes, I am smiling. That is a good development."