I didn’t hear anything from Jason the next day, or the next. I had no idea where he’d gone, and my best efforts to get any information out of Leonard during the long drive back home had been met with silence.
I called and I left messages, but he never responded. Monday came, and I went to work. I tried to focus even as half of my senses remained trained on my phone, waiting to hear from Jason.
By the third day, I was going crazy.
Amy called.
“Hey, roomie.” I could hear the bliss in her voice.
“How are you?”
“Great!” She laughed. “I love it here. Colin’s parents are so sweet, and their house! It’s lovely. There’s a big, beautiful garden, and it’s on a hill so you can see this small town all spread out not far away, and there’s a castle nearby.” She sighed. “It’s just lovely.”
“It sounds beautiful.”
“It is.” She paused. “How was the beach?”
I thought about the first night and the morning after. It had been lovely, until…until…I still wasn’t sure what’d happened, why Jason had cut our weekend short. “It was great,” I told Amy.
“And Jason?”
I didn’t want my problems to be a cloud over her happiness, so I lied. “He’s good.”
“Okay. I spoke to him earlier, and he sounded preoccupied. I thought it might be…you know…the thing with his mother, but I guess that was my imagination.”
“Hmm,” I replied noncommittally. There was an ache growing in my chest. He’d spoken to his sister but was ignoring my calls and my messages—why?
After I ended the call with Amy, I tried to call him again. It went to voicemail, and after the many messages I’d left, I didn’t see any point in leaving a new one.
There was no way I could keep ignoring the fact that he was avoiding me.
But why?
I hadn’t changed out of my work clothes, so I pulled a sweater over my dress and slipped on a pair of ballet flats as I requested a ride on my phone.
I wasn’t going to sit around and wait. If there was something I needed to know, I was going to find out.
At Jason’s building, I entered the reception area, giving the doorman at the desk a small smile as I headed for the elevators. I let myself into the quiet apartment. It took me only a few minutes to realize he wasn’t home.
I didn’t even know if he was back in town. Unsure what to do, I went to the couch, deciding to wait for a few hours at least.
I switched on the TV and started watching a Disney movie. After a while, I fell asleep.
When I opened my eyes, the movie was still on, and Jason was standing a few feet away from the couch, watching me sleep.
There was something about the way he looked at me that made me feel loved—above anything else, loved. I rose, still sleepy, and watched uncomprehendingly as he retreated from me and his face went blank.
“Hey.” I tried to smile, though there was a slow tension growing in my stomach. “You’re back.”
He turned away. “Long day at the office.”
He sounded remote, emotionless. I rose to my feet and took a step toward him. “Is everything okay?”
He exhaled. “Everything’s fine, but I’m tired. I planned to come home and go straight to bed.”
I stared at him. “So?”
He ignored me and took off his jacket then threw it over the back of an armchair. I was still standing, feeling almost frozen, yet unsteady.
“You didn’t return any of my calls.” My voice was shaky, and I wondered what I was missing. Why was he being so…so cold?
He met my gaze, and his eyes burned with something I couldn’t understand. “I’ve called Leonard,” he said, his voice so impersonal it scraped at my insides like rough gravel. “He’ll take you home.”
“You’re asking me to leave?”
He didn’t respond, just switched off the TV and started toward the bedroom.
“Jason.” I followed him. “What the fuck is going on?”
He stopped walking and turned to face me. I shrunk back at the iciness in his eyes.
“Nothing.” His voice was like cold water on my skin. “There’s nothing going on. Just…Leonard will take you home.”
“Seriously, Jason?” I shook my head. “Seriously? I’m just supposed to leave? You’re not even going to explain yourself…explain your silence?”
He shrugged. “I already told you, I’m tired.”
I blinked. “I must be dreaming,” I muttered to myself. I searched his face. He looked tired and drawn. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
He sighed. “I already said there’s nothing wrong. Leonard will—”
“Stop it!” My voice rose. “I can find my own way home!”
“Daphne—”
“No!” Tears blurred my vision. “Don’t. Don’t talk to me. You don’t get to ask me to leave then act concerned about how I get home.”
I turned on my heel, and he followed me back to the living room. I opened the door and turned to face him, more confused than ever at the pain I saw on his face.
“Jason…” I watched as his face shuttered again, setting up an unbreachable wall between him and me.
I stepped out of his apartment and shut the door behind me.
I tried not to cry as the elevator took me to the ground floor. The doorman at the desk looked surprised to see me leaving, and I ignored him, rushing out of the building. Outside the doors, a few feet away on the curb, Jason’s black SUV was already waiting with Leonard standing by the door, ready to drive me home.
I ignored him and started to walk, feeling somewhat guilty as the older man ran to catch up with me.
“It’s too far to walk all the way,” he said matter-of-factly.
I stopped and faced him. “What happened to him?” I demanded, almost ashamed to have to ask someone else what was going on with the man I loved.
“I don’t know,” Leonard replied gravely, not meeting my eyes.
A gust of wind blew, and a few drops of moisture landed on my skin.
“It’s going to rain in a bit,” he said gently. “Let me take you home. My only other choice is to walk all the way with you, and I’m an old man.”
“You’re trying to blackmail me, Leonard,” I said, smiling shakily through my tears. “And I could get a ride, you know.”
“Pretend that’s what I am.” His smile was almost fatherly, and it made me want to cry and maybe hug him for the comfort I so dearly needed. Not wanting to embarrass myself, I hurried to the car. Leonard somehow got there before me and opened the door, letting me into the cool interior that smelled unbearably like Jason.
I stayed quiet for the few short minutes it took to get home. I felt lost, like I was floating in a sea of confusion. How had Jason gone from the person I’d spent the weekend with to the man I’d just left? It made no sense.
The car stopped, and I pushed open the door and slid out.
“Take care now,” Leonard said.
I lifted my hand in a weak wave as I walked toward the entrance of my building, and he waited till I was safely inside before driving away. As I went upstairs, I wondered how many women he’d dropped off just like that when his boss was done with them.
I shook my head. The idea that Jason was ‘done with me’ was something I couldn’t accept. He loved me. He was mine. There was no reason to doubt his feelings for me.
Except that he just threw you out of his home.
I ignored the hateful reminder and wandered around my apartment, unsure what to do. I considered calling Amy, but I couldn’t bring myself to share my worries for fear they’d become real.
I showered and got ready for bed. I listened to Jason’s old messages on my phone. I finally fell asleep and dreamed of Jason showing me a ring then slamming a door in my face, over and over again.
I was dying, at least that was how I felt, like a knife was inching toward my heart and the longer I went without hearing anything from Jason, the closer it came to bleeding me out.
“Janice says hi,” Candace said one afternoon. We were having lunch close to the office. I really wasn’t hungry, but it helped to get out of enclosed spaces. “She wants to know if Jason is open to attending more of her parties and reading any more poems?”
I tried to smile. “It was more of a one-time thing.”
“I told her that,” Candace said. “He’s really something, though. You should keep him.”
I must have become very good at acting like there was nothing wrong, because she couldn’t tell that with each word, I was breaking apart inside. I nodded. “I plan to.”
“So…don’t quote me, but I hear you’re being considered for a promotion.” She smiled at me. “How does senior editor sound?”
I tried to muster enthusiasm. “It sounds great.”
“I thought you’d be more excited.”
“I am.” I sighed. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
Candace peered at me. “Want to talk about it?”
I shook my head and crumpled my paper plate. “I gotta go,” I told her, giving her no time to ask any more questions. I went back to my office and buried myself in work.
The week went by painfully. On Thursday, I was still at work when Amy called. I hesitated to answer, unsure how to deal with her happiness when I was drowning in pain, but I missed her too much to resist an opportunity to talk to her.
“What’s up?” she chirped. “What’s going on?”
“You sound happy.”
She laughed. “Delirious.”
“Well, what’s going on?”
“Oh, nothing! Just having the best vacation of my life. We’re staying for one more week. Colin has some stuff to manage in the London office, but I’m enjoying myself.”
I felt like crying. “I’m glad. I miss you though.”
“I miss you too, but I know Jason is taking good care of you in my absence.” She laughed.
I was quiet.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I lied. “Everything’s fine. When will you be back?”
There was a pause on her side. “Definitely before next weekend. There’s the book launch, remember?”
“Yeah.” Some of Amy’s photography was being featured in a coffee table book along with works of some accomplished photographers. It was a career changer, and she was over the moon about it. “I’m looking forward to that.”
“Daphne,” Amy said softly. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” I forced a smile into my voice. “I might be getting promoted at work.”
The distraction worked, and we spent the rest of the call talking about my possible promotion.
After I ended the call, I went to my voice messages and started to play my old ones from Jason. I was fast becoming addicted to listening to his voice telling me he loved me. It was dangerous, especially since I had no idea what was going on between us.
I called his number, and my call went straight to voicemail.
I called his office, and after a few rings, someone picked up.
“Jason Wild’s office.”
“Hello.” I paused. I’d never had to call him through his office before. “This is Daphne Bird calling to speak with Jason.”
“May I ask what your call is regarding?”
“It’s a personal matter.”
“Is he expecting your call?”
“No.”
“One moment please.”
There was a long pause, and then, “I’m sorry, but Mr. Wild is busy at the moment. You can leave your number and perhaps he’ll call you back when he’s less busy.”
I closed my eyes as a painful breath escaped me. “No,” I said. “There’s no need.”
I walked home, the key to Jason’s apartment burning a hole in my bag. I wanted to scream at him and demand he tell me what was going on, but I resisted the urge to go to him.
For one day…and then one more.
By Saturday, I couldn’t take it anymore. My heart was breaking, and it felt like all my cells were in a constant state of panicked motion, hurtling and crashing against each other and leaving me almost too weak to function. I pulled on tights and a long sweater then slipped my feet into walking shoes. I planned to walk until I was exhausted, but at the door, I turned back and took Jason’s key out of my purse.
I walked all the way, barely noticing the early morning quiet around me. I passed a few joggers, and someone barely missed bumping into me with his plastic cups of coffee. I apologized and kept moving.
In the lobby of Jason’s building, it was Vince behind the desk. He smiled and inclined his head, and I waved. In the elevator, I had to fight memories—Jason’s kisses, his teasing.
What the fuck was happening?
I let myself into the apartment. I wasn’t sure I’d find him, but I knew I wanted to confront him, to make him explain, at least—and if he didn’t, I’d walk away and find something to occupy myself with until he was ready to let me know what was going on. I was sick of hanging in limbo.
He wasn’t in the living room, kitchen, or den. I made my way to the bedroom, and he wasn’t there either, but his bed had been slept in. I was about to go to the study, but something drew me into the room. I walked past the bed, trying not to think of all the nights I’d spent there with him. I moved across the room and opened the door to the walk-in closet.
Jason was standing in front of a row of my clothes. He drew his fingers along the sleeves of a dress I’d worn once when we went out for dinner, and I heard him sigh.
I took a step inside the room, and he turned to face me. He frowned and blinked, as if he wasn’t quite sure I was really standing there.
His hand dropped from the garment. “What are you doing here?” His voice was careful and even.
I stared at him, unable to believe the words he was saying to me. “Why are you avoiding me?” I cried, so frustrated I could barely keep myself from screaming.
He walked to the other side of the closet. He was wearing pants, but his chest was bare. I watched him pick up a soft gray t-shirt. He didn’t pull it on. He just stood there, his back to me.
I stared at the wall of solid muscle, and it was like a physical demonstration of the past week. I was beating against a solid wall while he faced away from me, unwilling to let me in.
“You’re going to have to explain,” I said evenly, trying not to cry. “You’re going to have to tell me something.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I shouted. I went over to him and shoved at his back.
He turned to face me but still said nothing.
“Why won’t you talk to me?” I was pleading now, but I didn’t care. I was ready to beg.
He caught my hands and held them away from him. “You should go home,” he said.
“Home? Where, Jason?” I cried. “Just a few days ago, you were asking me to move in here with you. This fucking closet is full of my clothes, for God’s sake.”
“I’ll have them sent over.”
A scream built in my throat and I wrenched my hands from his grip. “What did you say?” His silence enraged me further, and I shoved his chest again, my eyes blurry with tears. “What did you say?” My voice broke on the words. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through lungs that felt scorched with pain. “You’re ruining me,” I whispered. “You’re tearing me apart.”
His eyes closed. “Daphne, I can’t…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
I placed my hands on his chest. Under my palms, his skin felt warm and familiar. I could swear I felt him tremble. “Please tell me what this is about.”
He took hold of my wrists and eased my hands away from his chest.
“You can’t bear for me to touch you anymore?” I asked, tears in my eyes.
He was still holding my wrists, seeming almost reluctant to let them go. I edged my body as close to him as I could get.
“Jason,” I begged. “Talk to me.”
Instead, he kissed me. It was totally unexpected. One minute his eyes were on my face, and in the next he’d taken my lips in a hot, hungry kiss.
I burst into flames, the rush of sensations making me helpless in his arms. He released my wrists, and one hand cupped the back of my head, bringing my mouth closer to his, while the other splayed across my lower back, pressing our hips together.
I moaned into his mouth, weak from wanting him. I’d missed his touch. I’d missed drowning in his kisses. My eyes burned, and my hands moved feverishly across his shoulders and back. He was trembling, and so was I.
He released my lips and touched his forehead to mine. His body shook as he exhaled. “Daphne,” he whispered. “God! This is so hard.”
I touched my lips to his, kissing him again. I didn’t want him to stop, to think, to consider whatever had led him to distance himself from me. I wanted him to be mine again.
I stroked his tongue with mine, tasting his mouth, sucking on his lips. I touched him everywhere I could. He groaned and lifted me off my feet, carrying me out of the closet and into the bedroom.
He set me down on the bed—not very gently—then tore off my tights and panties, tossing them aside before lowering his head to kiss the lips of my sex.
I gasped at the pleasure, closing my eyes as he spread my legs and his tongue slipped down to stroke my clit. My whole body felt the pulse of pleasure, and when he drew his lips from my clit to the entrance of my sex and pushed his tongue inside me, I screamed.
All the pent-up frustration of the past week combined with the pleasure drove me a little mad. I felt wild. My fingers dug into his hair, and I pulled hard. He gripped my thighs and continued the assault with his lips and tongue until I was sobbing, my body vibrating, begging him for release.
I sighed in gratitude when he hovered over me, undoing his trousers and freeing his cock. Tears filled my eyes when he thrust into me, filling me and making me come with just a few sweet strokes. He fucked me as my body shook and pulsed, each thrust building another wave of sensation inside me.
He pushed my sweater up, taking my bra with it and freeing my breasts. As he covered one aching nipple with his lips, I wrapped my legs around his waist and surrendered my body to him, unwilling to think of his rejection, unwilling to consider the shame that would come when…if he asked me to leave again.
His arms tightened around me, imprisoning me in his embrace as he drove me toward another climax. I cried out his name, and he whispered mine, shuddering as he came in a warm rush inside me.
I don’t know how long he held me, but it wasn’t long enough. His arms left my sides, and he pulled out of me, rolling over to hold me close to him for another few precious moments.
Then he got up, leaving me lying on the bed, and without a word, he went in the direction of the bathroom.
I lay still. I heard water running, and then it stopped. I got up. I was still wearing my sweater, and I adjusted my bra, which, beneath the wool, was pushed somewhere close to my neck. The sweater fell to my upper thighs, giving me some semblance of modesty as I went to find Jason.
He was in the closet. He’d pulled on a long-sleeved t-shirt and smoothed his hair. He looked nothing like the person who’d just made love to me. I stood at the door, watching him as he slipped on a silver watch.
“Are you going to ask me to leave again?”
His breath hitched. “No. I’m leaving.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. I’d asked all the questions, had begged him to talk to me, and it was as if I’d gone full circle and ended up in the same spot.
I spent a long time just looking at him, taking in his perfection: his beautifully sculpted face, the lips that whispered promises to me, his magnificent body that gave me so much pleasure. Now, it felt like they belonged to a stranger.
I went back into the bedroom and pulled on the rest of my clothes. I slammed the door behind me, and before I left his apartment, I set his key down on a table in the foyer.
There was no need to keep pretending.