Jaime
Gently, I use my feather duster to swipe all the decorations and books on my living room shelves. I run it over the corner lamp, the end tables, and the coffee table. I start to move toward the TV stand, but the red foil-wrapped gift catches my eye. I’d set it there when I came home on Christmas day, having chosen to sleep at my parents’ house on Christmas Eve after Mass.
I didn’t put it under my small Christmas tree I set up on the sideboard that takes up one wall of my tiny apartment. One day, I’d love to have a place big enough for a full-sized tree, but, for now, my little two-foot one brings me just as much Christmas cheer.
And yet, I didn’t put Cage’s gift there. I mean, there’s plenty of room as all the other presents I had stacked there were for my family, and we opened those Christmas day.
Maybe it’s because I feel slightly guilty I didn’t get him anything. It never crossed my mind.
Most likely, I didn’t put it under the tree because the shape and size of that box—regardless of the red foil—say it isn’t exactly a Christmas present.
It’s a ring, right?
A real wedding band, not like the cheap silver ones we bought in the twenty-four-hour wedding chapel where we got married.
A twinge of pain hits me dead center, something that happens every time I remember I’m married to a man I’m not sure I can stay married to. I’m smart enough to realize that twinge is the potential pain of loss, meaning if I ultimately decide I just can’t move forward with him, I’m going to suffer. Because even though I’m angry, hurt, disappointed, and mistrustful of him now, I also still very much love him.
It’s an awful situation to be in.
Bypassing the sideboard and ignoring the gift, I move into the kitchen, putting my small feather duster in the tiny supply closet/pantry. Eyeballing the kitchen, I look for something else to do to keep busy. I have the rest of this week off for Christmas break, and I’m in strict avoidance mode. I’ve cleaned the apartment top to bottom—twice now in the last two days—and I’ve been putting Cage off again.
Since our conversation on Christmas Eve two nights ago, he’s respectfully texted each morning, asking if we can set up another time to talk. Each time, I’ve put him off, telling him that I was not in the right frame of mind just yet.
That was vague enough to hold him off. Truth be told, though, I know exactly why I’m putting him off. It’s because I think, deep in my heart, I understand and accept he’s never had any ill intent toward me, that he got caught up in something stupid that snowballed, then that whole kidnapping thing sort of got my emotions out of whack. What still causes me some trepidation about this, though, is that if I genuinely accept that, then I should give him another shot.
I should give this marriage a shot.
But there’s that small chance I’m wrong. There’s a risk that maybe Cage can’t be trusted, and if that turns out to be true, I’ll end up being in a marriage that’s unworkable. I’ll end up getting way more hurt down the road if he does something else to betray my trust.
“Shit,” I mutter, frustrated I can’t seem to reason my way out of this untenable position. And I’m honest enough to admit I keep putting Cage off because I know damn well he’ll talk me into giving us a shot.
There’s a knock on my door, and it startles me enough to make me jump. I move that way, assuming it’s Brian or Laney. I know it can’t be Cage because he’s given me space, and I’ve denied him so far for another time to sit down to talk.
To be sure, though, I look through the peephole. I’m shocked to see it’s a blonde woman. At first, I have no clue who she is, then vague recognition settles.
Then it clicks.
It’s Cage’s friend Anna, who I met about a month ago for drinks. Funny, he hasn’t really mentioned her or his other friend, Malik, since then, so I’m a bit confused as to why she’s outside my apartment door.
Did Cage send her here?
But that doesn’t make sense. He never talked about her after that meeting, so I didn’t think they were all that close.
Hesitantly, I undo the locks and swing the door open.
Anna holds a hand up with a smile. “Hi, Jaime.”
“Anna, right?” I ask, just to make sure I remembered correctly.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me,” she says with a duck of her head. “Can I come in?”
Manners have me automatically moving back and ushering her in. I don’t know her well, but she’s a friend of Cage’s, so I assume she’s safe. I mean, she doesn’t look like she’d kidnap me or anything.
“Cute apartment,” she says as she looks around. “Cage said he was hoping you two would get a house, though. More space.”
A jolt of surprise hits me hard. “Excuse me?”
“Cage,” she replies, turning to smile at me. “We had dinner last night, and he was hoping if you two can get back on track, he could buy a house for you.”
I’m so flabbergasted that I don’t even know what to say. I have no clue if I’m even going to stay married to the guy, and here this woman is, who I hadn’t even thought was all that close to Cage, telling me he wants to buy us a house.
I shake my head, frowning. “I’m sorry. But you and Cage were talking about me?”
Anna nods with a bright smile. “Just last night.”
“I didn’t realize y’all were that close of friends,” I murmur, more to myself than her.
“We’re pretty tight,” Anna admits. “We actually work together at Jameson.”
My jaw drops, my eyes feeling like they’re bugging out of my head. “You work together?”
Another lie Cage told me. Or rather, something else he failed to tell me.
“Yes,” Anna replies hesitantly, perhaps picking up on the anger in my voice. “He didn’t tell you when he… um… told you about what he really did for a living?”
“We haven’t had much opportunity to talk since then,” I admit, then another thought strikes me. “And what about your gay friend, Malik, who was with you that night? Does he also work at Jameson?”
Anna tips her head back and laughs, her eyes sparkling. “That’s right. I totally forgot Malik told you he was gay, but that was because you were trying so hard to play matchmaker with us, and it was the only way he knew to get you to stop.”
“I’m really sorry about that,” I rush to assure her.
She waves her hand. “Actually, you weren’t far off the mark. And yes, he works at Jameson. We had feelings for each other, but we were too afraid to act on them. I think your trying to play matchmaker just made it more awkward for us since us being together was kind of forbidden.”
“Oh, God… I’m so sorry.”
Anna waves me off again. “Actually, it all ended well. We’re together now.”
“Oh, good,” I gush, genuinely happy for them. Then I frown. “Wait… what do you mean forbidden?”
Looking over at the couch, Anna asks, “Can I sit down?”
I slap my palm to my forehead. “Yes, where are my manners? Please sit. Do you want something to drink?”
Anna declines as she moves to the couch, instead, patting the cushion next to her as she settles onto it. “Come sit. I’ll tell you all about mine and Malik’s forbidden love story, and, in return, you’re going to listen to me lobby for Cage so that you’ll give him another chance.”
I could just throw her out at this point, as now it’s clear why she’s here. I should, as I have way too much to think on as it is.
Instead, Anna intrigues me. I’m taken in by her smile and cheer, which I haven’t felt a lot of this season. So I walk around the coffee table and sit beside her.
“Okay,” she says after taking a deep breath. “Let me tell you about Malik and me. It started with two tragedies… my husband getting killed while on a mission and Malik being taken prisoner.”
“Oh my God. I am so sorry,” I exclaim, bolting up. “Your company does work that can get you killed or taken prisoner?”
Anna winces, realizing she’s not making a great case for me to stay latched onto Cage. “It’s a rarity,” she assures me.
And even though I’m appalled at just how dangerous Cage’s job is, I’m immediately right back to her first words… her husband was killed. I reach over, taking her hand. “I’m so sorry about your husband.”
“Thanks,” she replies, giving me a squeeze. “I was pregnant at the time, too.”
Jesus. What has this woman been through? I lean toward her slightly, intensely interested in her tale. She tells me all about her husband dying in Syria and Malik being captured and held for months in a hole in the ground. She had her baby girl on her own, then went to work at Jameson. When Malik was rescued, they became friends, then they eventually became more. At the time I met them, they were just friends, but both were attracted to each other.
“It’s still pretty new,” she admits. “It was just over a week ago we really admitted our feelings for each other and decided to give it a go.”
I’m fascinated about this and have about a dozen follow-up questions, all of which Anna patiently answers. They’re more focused on what Jameson does, because other than that brief glimpse of Cage crashing through a window to save me, I really have no idea. Anna is a great source of information.
When I’ve exhausted my curiosities about Jameson, and note the dangers for further discussions if I ever do talk with Cage about it again, Anna gives me a pointed look. “You ready to talk about your husband now?”
The word “husband” sounds foreign. Yet, it causes somewhat of a yearning sensation within me. “I’m guessing you want me to give him another chance.”
“I want you to listen to him at a minimum,” she replies softly. “He deserves at least some time devoted to allowing him to explain himself.”
“He’s already explained why he lied,” I say defensively. “I’m clear on his reasons.”
“Then I suspect your reticence merely has to do with whether you trust his character now,” Anna concludes.
I admit to her the revelation I’d had not moments before she showed up that, for the most part, I think he genuinely made a stupid mistake and hadn’t meant to hurt me. “But what if I’m wrong? What if I give this a shot… and we’re not just talking about dating. We’re married, so that means I give marriage an honest try. And what if it doesn’t work out?”
“But what if it does?” she counters. “And if, for the most part, you think Cage is the decent man you fell in love with—minus the lie about his profession—then why wouldn’t you take that risk?”
“I know, I know, I know,” I say, bolting up from the couch in frustration. “I’ve had this conversation with myself a dozen times just today alone. I don’t know what’s holding me back.”
“Fear,” Anna says simply. “It’s something I understand well. Malik and I both had it. Love is scary, and we’re at risk of getting hurt. You’re acting like a human, Jaime. It’s not rocket science about why you’re wary.”
“You make it sound so straightforward and easy,” I mutter.
“Not at all. Love is hard. Trust is delicate. You and Cage have work to do. I’m merely saying to sit down and see if you have the courage to give it a shot.”
I don’t know what will happen to Cage and me, but I do know Anna is providing strong validation for what I was already starting to figure out myself. I need to at least talk this out with Cage.
And, if we can ultimately get past this weird place in our relationship, I have a distinct feeling Anna and I could become very good friends.