Strapped Down (8 page)

“I’m not sure how I feel about you plotting out Kristin and Henry.”

“That was all them, I simply didn’t want her to feel like the third wheel and since Henry is so affable, I thought he would make for good company. Henry mentioned he had the goods, but I never set the expectation that he was going to get laid. I’m not surprised though, they’re both outgoing, attractive people. They’re both adults Shy, don’t put that on me.”

“Where did you go last night? I know that wasn’t business.”

“You’re in a funk.” He turns to put some food on a plate.

“You’re dodging the question.”

“Considering your current mood, it might not be the best time to talk about anything.”

“Well now you have to tell me!”

Taylor’s face suddenly drops and becomes very serious. I know that look and he only reserves it for painful news.

“You sure you want to hear this?”

“You know me well enough to know the answer. Spit it out.”

“So, like you asked, I had someone look into Em.”
There he goes again, calling her Em. Vomit.
“Actually, it was Harrison, he knew I had company over, so he didn’t want to walk in and tell me, he called instead so we could step away for a bit and talk it over.”

“Tell you what? What is it Taylor?”

Taylor takes a deep breath. “Em is dead,” he says, looking down at the kitchen counter, trying his best to avoid my eyes.

CHAPTER SIX

“
She’s dead? How?”

“Car accident. Drunk driving. A few months ago.”

“Oh my god. She was drunk driving?”

“Yes.”

My mind races. Maybe there is some validity in Eric’s claim that I check out her story. On the other hand, it seems Taylor is being honest about what happened to her, I mean death
is
a worst-case scenario.

“And you didn’t know that she died before yesterday?”

“Of course not, no idea until yesterday. I’ve had no contact with her since we parted ways, like I have said countless times.”

“So you found out this news and then you decided to have a pool party?”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at with that question. I wasn’t celebrating her death with a pool party.”

“Your ex-girlfriend is dead and it’s like nothing happened. You don’t even care.” I realize, it might not be so much that I care about how he feels about her, but that I have always feared that I could be the next Emily Brown.

“She’s not my ex-girlfriend, at least not in the conventional sense. And if you must know, I did find the news upsetting, but what was I supposed to do? Walk in crying? Begging for hugs from you and Kristin? You know me better than that.”

“I don’t know, maybe show some human sympathy?” I say.

“People deal with death in different ways and you should know not to expect a typical reaction from me by now. You were having fun, you looked relaxed. It was nice to see that after what you’ve been through. I figured waiting to tell you was a good idea. You had fun last night, didn’t you?”

“Any fun I had was because I had no idea that Emily was dead.”

“You didn’t even know Emily and she’s been dead for months now. Maybe you should step out of yourself for a second and think about how the people who actually knew her felt.”

“You felt good enough to watch your best friend fuck my best friend. My god, what the fuck did we do last night?”

“Aw, now you’re going to get all self-righteous on me? No one put a gun to your head. You were
beggin
g me to cum on you.”

“No, but everyone was begging me to do the E.”

“That included Kristin, who seemed to be enjoying herself.”

“Don’t talk about her!”

“I’m not judging her. I think what she did was totally fine. You’re the one freaking out!” Taylor says in frustration.

Eric’s claim replays in my head:
You know you’re slowly changing, to be the person that can fix him, but you can’t…you may think the person you are becoming is by choice, but nothing around Taylor happens by choice.

“What did you do to her?” I ask.

“Who are you talking about? Kristin?”

“Emily. What did you do to her?”

“You need to watch what you are about to say next Shyla. There are things that cannot be taken back once you say them.”

“I don’t mean that you killed her, but you changed her, didn’t you?”

“Are you saying I drove her to drink and drive to her death? It was a freak accident.”

“I don’t know, but Eric—“

“Eric? Do tell, what did Eric say?” Taylor asks sarcastically, throwing his arms up in the air. “It’s enough that I looked her up based on his bullshit suggestion to you. I cannot believe you are about to quote him. I mean, if you are trying to somehow prove to yourself that I have a heart by breaking it, then go ahead, say you believe what Eric has told you about me.”

Something about the last thing he says, the vulnerability in it, stops me in my tracks.
What am I doing?
I am reacting hysterically. I steeple my fingers over my lips and take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I should have never brought Eric into this, that was low of me. I don’t know what I was thinking. I think I have just had more than I can handle as far as emotional stress, and each thing that happens seems to rattle me easier than the one before it. You’re right, I didn’t even know Emily and she had a life after you. To even think of blaming you is wrong. It’s ridiculous.” It seems my words have come a little too late into the conversation. His eyes look haunted, I should feel some sort of power being the only person who can hurt him, but instead I feel like an enormous asshole. “Taylor, I don’t feel like myself right now. I mean it, I think my brain chemistry is fucked up from the E.”

“Like I said, you’ll be fine by tomorrow. You never have to do it again, I just thought you would have fun. I’m going to do some work in my office for a while.” He takes his plate with him, which is something I have never seen him do, and walks down the hall, his normally proud posture displaying a slight slump.

I pull up my laptop and book an earlier-than-planned flight to see my mother. Now that I know I don’t have to show up to work this week, and I can work from anywhere, I book something for Wednesday afternoon instead of Friday.

Next I text Kristin.

Shyla:

Hey, how’s it going?

Kristin’s response is almost immediate.

Kristin:

Not sure.

Shyla:

Things got a little wild, huh?

Kristin:

Yeah. Henry was a lot of fun. I’m not sure if I should tell Chad.

Shyla:

Would you want him to tell you?

Kristin:

We haven’t declared exclusivity, per se. So probably not. That would make it awk.

Shyla:

There’s ure answer. If you both are seeing other people, you didn’t do anything wrong and confessing would only make him feel shitty.

Kristin:

I don’t think he’s seeing other people, but I get ure point. Did you speak to Henry?

Shyla:

No, when I woke, you were both gone.

Kristin:

We both cut out at around 6. I gave him my number. Yikes. I hope he doesn’t call.

Shyla:

Do you feel like you said stupid shit last night? I do, and I feel really shitty today, super depressed and sad.

Kristin:

Don’t sweat it. That’s how it is, everyone loves everyone and everyone wants to kiss and touch everyone. We were all in the same boat. I think I am the one who should feel stupid : \

I’m relieved that we didn’t sabotage her relationship with Chad and that maybe I wasn’t as creepy as I felt. Then again, I don’t think she knows that Taylor and I had our own personal porn show on their account. Never in a million years would I have done that if it wasn’t for the E, which made me feel like we had no boundaries with one another.

After I am done with Kristin, I start to work ferociously to minimize my work needs for the rest of the week and distract myself from clinging all over Taylor.
Will I ever get used to Taylor’s seeming lack of connection to humanity? What does it even matter as long as he feels connected to me? Does he even care about his friends, or is that all part of his cover, so that people don’t know how damaged he really is?

When three hours pass and Taylor does not emerge, I start to worry.
Have I pushed him away during a time when I need him the most?
Contrasting this is a lingering voice of doubt that will not let up. It is low, overshadowed by the stronger, more reckless voice that has taken over as of late, but it is still persistent.
Should I take what Taylor says at face value or should continue to look into Emily’s life, just to clear the record?

Another hour passes and finally I hear his office door open. He emerges with an empty plate in his hand. The tension between us persists.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” I beg as he sets his dish in the sink. I can’t take the heaviness in the air between us.

“I’m fine Shyla. But I have to admit, you bringing up Eric against me, that was a low blow. It’s like everything he’s doing is starting to work. He’s turning you against me.”

“No! Please don’t think that. Like I said, I was reacting to another piece of shitty news on top of the never-ending list. Please, I’m sorry. I never want to be the person who hurts you. I didn’t know my words could have that effect.”

“Well, now you do.”

I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his waist and look up into his gorgeous eyes, the same eyes I saw in the photograph of his mother. “I love you. No — I more than love you. I’m losing my mind over you; I’m sick over you. And I keep trying to beat around the bush about it, as if by keeping it to myself I’ll have some leverage like this is some sort of power play, but it’s not. If I act erratic or emotional, it’s because the intensity with which I feel for you makes everything else more intense. Being in love with you is like a drug, it’s changed my view of the world, my reaction to things. It’s an incredible feeling, but it’s maddening, it’s like a never-ending high.”

With those words, the spark appears in his eyes again. How many times in his life has he been told that he has been loved like this? I am certain very few. Maybe just me and the woman who saved him from C.O.S. I don’t say it expecting him to say it back. I know it’s hard for him to say those words, but I know what we have, and I don’t need to hear him recite a collection of letters to reaffirm it for me.

He smiles warmly and pushes my hair out of my face. “Where did you come from? Who are you? You’re like that angel that emerged from the light to save me.”

Taylor insists that he take me for a joyride since I haven’t left the property since the hospital. We spend the afternoon with the wind in our hair, simply enjoying each other’s company with very few words between us.

Later that night, Taylor reads a book in bed, when I emerge from the shower in a little silk nightie. Still not 100% myself from the previous night’s festivities, it is almost scary how hard it has been to regain my normal temperament. It’s as if I used up all my joy the night before. I am beat and eager to sleep, hoping that when I wake up tomorrow, I’ll be myself again. As soon as I slide into bed, I feel Taylor roll over, pressing his firmness on my backside. We haven’t had intercourse since before we were last in the darkroom and I know rejecting him is more than just saying no to sex. This is how he relates, how he loves, but I can’t. I’m not ready and after finding out about Emily, it’s stirring up my emotions about Eric and what he did to me.

“I’m sorry, I can’t.” I say as kindly as possible.

“What’s going on, Shy?”

“I just, you know…I’m not myself.”

“When will you be yourself again?”

“I don’t know…I’m trying to deal.”

“You don’t want to get help, so you’re just going to let it get between us?”

“Taylor it’s hardly been a few days, and we’ve done other things. Other amazing things I might add.” He nods in acceptance, but I can tell he’s bothered. He gets up to leave. “Where are you going? I’m sorry, but this is not easy for me.”

“I know it’s not, Shy. I just get so fucking pissed about him, about what he did and I just can’t fucking lay here anymore. I’m not used to being told no, and I respect it, but it’s hard, because I want you all the time. Honestly, I want to tell you to shut the fuck up and take my cock, but you’re not like my other relationships, and then sometimes you are and it’s fucking confusing as hell.”

“I’m sor-“

“Don’t be fucking sorry. Don’t.” And with that he leaves the bedroom.

The rest of the week is full of me cramming work as I try to prepare for my trip. Taylor insists that he stay at home, but locks himself in the office telling me my presence is a major distraction from getting work done. I can sense his sexual frustration and the wall it is putting up between us, but something is blocking me, and I don’t know what it is exactly. I guess I am scared to revisit the conflicting feelings I have about what Eric did to me.

While I am still in town, I go to Rubix every evening at around 6 o’clock when most people have started to head out to have a quick recap meeting with Chad. He still has that glow of someone in a new relationship and I am so glad it won’t be ruined by the knowledge of Kristin sleeping with Henry.

By the time Wednesday rolls around, I am ready to enjoy a few days in fresh surroundings. I know as soon as I get to the airport, I’ll want to turn around and run back to Taylor, but it’s the only way I can think of to get some clarity and balance back. Taylor insisted I take the corporate jet, but I had already bought a first class ticket, since the thought of asking him for a jet to visit my mom seemed just mildly ridiculous. Before heading to the airport I called my mom to tell her I was on my way, and she was very excited. Taylor escorts me all the way to security. We pause for a moment, and I look up at him and admire the dark lashes against his bright eyes. I never tire of admiring his face. I want to apologize for my distance, for my inability to fully surrender myself to him since Eric and finding out about Emily, but I don’t. I just stare into his eyes for a few extra seconds than normal, and then I kiss him tenderly.