Love's Illusions: A Novel (12 page)

“Is it okay if I tell you about it?” I asked.

Closing his eyes for a second, he nodded and said, “Yes, it’s okay – I’m glad you want to.”

With that, the saga of the last two days came pouring out. He sat more or less emotionless, not even asking questions to clarify. My story was rather disjointed, and jumped around as my mind bounced back and forth. When I was done I felt drained.

Michael looked drained too – his face was drawn, self-reflective. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have dumped all this on you, I just felt… Oh fuck, I don’t know what I feel anymore. I need to get stoned, do you have anything?”

Michael kept looking at me, as if he was able to see all the way through me,
I hated my transparent face,
I thought, but he said nothing – he didn’t move. The atmosphere in the room was feeling claustrophobic; I started to stand, but he stopped me, putting one of his large, calloused, beautiful hands on one shoulder, his other hand under my chin lifting my face to meet his. “Don’t apologize,” he replied, “I’m glad you told me – thank you. But I also know what you’re not saying. I wish I could just listen and not feel like I do, but I’m just not that big a person.”

“What, what do you mean? I don’t understand.”

“Are you sure you don’t?”

“I’m sure,” I snapped jerking my head back from his hand.

“Okay… I’ll tell you then,” he stated as he released me, standing up and walking to the other side of the room. “What you’re not saying is that if Stephen had welcomed you with open arms, you
would
have been here to tell me to get lost – you would go back to him, wouldn’t you?”

“I… no, I mean…” Shit, it was useless to try to deny – that’s exactly what I’d’ve done. How the hell did he manage to do that… always knowing what was going on in my mind, to know the parts of the story I didn’t say. “Yes,” I admitted, turning to look out the window – I just couldn’t stand to look him in the eyes at that moment. Neither of us moved, neither of us spoke.

When finally I couldn’t take it any longer I jumped up, grabbing my jacket and purse, heading for the door I said, “I have to go, I have to be at work in a couple hours – I need to get changed.”

Reaching the door a split second before me, Michael put his arm out, blocking my way through. “Move. Move please, I have to go to work.” His arm stayed where it was gripping the door frame. “I have to go to work Goddamn it – let me go!” I demanded.

“No you don’t, it’s Tuesday - they’ll be fine without you – call Charlie, tell him you’re not coming in.”

My temper erupting, my voice brittle, I yelled, “No, I’m going!”

His temper flared back as he grabbed my shoulders with an almost imperceptible shake, “No, stay here – don’t run away from me, Jackie. Goddamn it, stay and face something for once in your life!”

“‘Once in my life’? What the fuck are you talking about, you’ve only known me for a few months – you don’t know anything about my life, and you can’t make me stay!”

“No, I can’t make you stay, but you need to. You came here to talk, you came to me, and then when I confront you with a piece of the story you left out, well… maybe I shouldn’t have said it, but I’m only human, I had to know. I care about you…” He took a deep breath. “So now you want to leave, walk out and not deal with it anymore or you want to get stoned. Those things won’t work and you know it. Just stay. Stay straight, and talk to me please!”

I was trembling with anger at this point. Michael continued to look through me, but his temper had been a momentary flare and was settling. I wanted to bolt through the door –but I was frozen. Sensing my hesitation, Michael dropped his arm from the door frame and said, “Stay here with me Jackie.”

My knees felt weak. I could feel my muscles lose all their strength as I stood there trying to force myself through the door, and willing myself to stay at the same time. I finally nodded. Michael flashed a quick smile, put his hand on the small of my back and led me back over to the loveseat where I collapsed. “Call Charlie,” he said, “and then I’ll order a pizza or Chinese or subs for dinner; whatever you want?”

“Hmm, Chinese please, and don’t forget the chopsticks,” I said trying to sound as normal as possible, reaching for the telephone on the end table.

After calling Charlie and ordering the food, both of us sat, not talking, glancing at each other, looking out the window, listening to the refrigerator hum, and the clock on the wall tick. This had been the closest we had come to a serious argument so far. Sure we’d disagreed about stupid stuff before, but we always laughed, and went on never thinking twice about any of it. I didn’t want to argue with Michael and I didn’t want to lose him either, not now. I needed him.
Was I that selfish that I had stayed to make it easier, stayed only for myself – not him?
I thought.

The phone rang; I could tell from the conversation that it was one of Michael’s repair clients. Hanging up he said, “Put your jacket on, and come down with me while I give this dude his car – I replaced the muffler. The air will do us both good, and maybe the delivery guy will be here by the time I’m done.”

I left my purse in the apartment so I wouldn’t be tempted to bolt while he wasn’t looking, and followed him down the stairs. He was right; the cool air did help clear my head, allowing my mind the chance to enjoy the brightness of the multi-shaded blue sky and clouds as they danced overhead. Joni Mitchell’s song, “Both Sides Now” floated into my consciousness… clouds do create a magical illusion, they float, they morph from shape to shape creating image after image. I wished I could float away with the clouds, with the song in my head… just let the wind take me wherever it wanted, carefree, trouble free. God I loved that song. My life right now seemed like nothing more than an illusion - the man I had loved, had married; was an illusion. Love was an illusion. I stared at the sky, taking in deep breaths, letting it carry off all thoughts, filling my brain with nothing. Nothing but illusions.

His business concluded, Michael was walking back towards me with a large brown bag in his arms – he had found the delivery guy while I was staring up at the clouds in the sky.

“What happened to your car, babe?”

“Huh, what do you mean?”

“There’s a good size dent in the back bumper – when did that happen?”

“Oh yeah, I guess I forgot that part of the story,” I replied. “It just happened when I left the hospital… I backed into a pole as I was trying to get out of the parking space – some asshole pinned me in. My parents are going to kill me when I file an insurance claim to get it fixed.”

He shook his head – “Did you forget what I do for a living? You don’t have to file an insurance claim, I can fix that for you, and your parents’ll never know the difference.”

“But you’re a mechanic; my car needs body work – you can’t do that.”

“Ahhh, yeah, but I’m multi-talented. And remember, Jeff works at a body shop, believe me, we can fix that in no time at all,” he said. “C’mon, let’s eat.”

We ate, joking and talking about nothing – the small talk flowed between us as it always did. I could pick up a single grain of rice with chopsticks; Michael had a hard time even holding them, and I teased him unmercifully about his lack of coordination. He loved to try to make me drop whatever morsel I was balancing between the sticks by poking me in the ribs or saying something sexy to get me to laugh. Tonight he was reaching his arm across the small round, glass top table in the dining area of the studio apartment, brushing hair back from my face and hooking it behind my ear. His touch was gentle and caring – it felt good, relaxed me and made it easier to talk.

When he was done eating, he got up, walked behind my chair, leaned on the back of it, and brushing the hair to one side, kissed the back of my neck. I felt a twinge of excitement shoot down the length of my spine – he knew how sensitive the back of my neck was. He repeated the kiss, then his arms crossed over my shoulders, and slid down to my breasts squeezing as the warmth of his breath on my neck started a flame burning inside me.

I squirmed, but before I could ask him to stop, he did, whispering in my ear, “Can we talk now?”

I nodded. He motioned towards the bed with his chin and I smiled. “Okay, that’s always a good place to talk,” I said.

I sat down on the edge of the double bed – actually it was just a mattress and box spring on the floor, no frame. He bent down pulling off my boots, then sat, removed his own, and scooted back plumping and arranging the pillows to prop us up. I wiggled into my favorite position, his arm around me, with my head on his chest; I always felt safe like this, and I needed that sensation to have the conversation I knew we must have.

“All right, can we start over?” Michael asked. His voice was as soft and calm as I can ever remember hearing it. “Tell me again what happened with Stephen. I’m listening now.”

This time I went through the events in a more coherent fashion, my voice steady instead of semi-hysterical, trying to describe my feelings along the way, but still avoiding any reference to my fantasy of putting my marriage back together – he had sensed that, and I sure didn’t want to put any more emphasis on it then necessary. Of course somewhere between yesterday and now, it was becoming all too obvious that ‘fantasy’ was exactly what it was – even to me.

“You do know that he’s lying to you, don’t you,” Michael stated.

“Maybe… probably, yes.”

“It’s not ‘maybe’ Jackie, he’s lying. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but he is,” he said rolling and propping himself on one elbow so I was forced to raise my head and face him. “You don’t need Kent to tell you that whatever a rectal fistula is; it didn’t happen from falling off a ladder.”

“You don’t know that – you’re not a doctor and…”

“I don’t have to be a doctor to know – stop being so naive.”

“I’m not…”

“Right! You’re the most naïve person I’ve ever met – when you want to believe something you do, no matter what’s staring you in the face! Of course, that’s one of the things I like most about you,” he snickered.

“Bullshit! He knows I’ll check… or at least he should know. I may love him, but I’m not going to be stupid anymore…” Michael’s face went blank. Realizing what I said I bolted up straight on the bed and shook my head – “Oh shit, that’s not what I meant. Goddamn it, please don’t do this, I can’t deal with… with any more right now! I just can’t!”

The blank expression was looking labored – he was having his own internal struggle, looking for words, wanting to say… something… then finally he said, “But you are still in love with him, aren’t you?”

“Michael, damn it… he’s my husband, I married him – I made a commitment to him! It’s not that simple. I can’t just snap my fingers and poof – all the feelings are gone just like that!”

“Then why did you come here? Is that a simple enough question for you?” He was looking at me, his eyes questioning… no, his eyes were hurting – he was in pain.

As I looked back into those whiskey colored eyes I felt things I couldn’t express –
why DID I come here?
All I could manage was, “I came here because you’re my friend, and my lover, and I needed to see you.”

“Is that all?”

“For now – I’m in pieces, it’s all I have to give. Is it enough?”

It took what seemed like forever – I was almost afraid to meet his eyes, but I had to see and I did. I saw it the instant he decided. Wrapping himself around me, and pulling me back down onto the bed he murmured, “For now.”

We laid there still – not moving, neither of us wanting to let go of the other, and then, as if overcome by some all-consuming urge he kissed me hard – harder than he ever had before. It hurt. I pulled back trying to breathe, trying to get away, but his grip on my arms only tightened, his fingers digging into my flesh as he rolled on top of me letting his full weight press me deep into the mattress. He lifted himself, his eyes boring through me – then just as swiftly as before he kissed me again hard on the lips. This time I tasted a slight hint of blood. He yanked my sweater up, lowered his head and sucked on my breasts just as hard. I gasped as he bit my nipples. “What are you doing? Michael, what the hell… you’re being too rough!” I tried protesting, but was caught somewhere in an unfamiliar emotion, between pain and ecstasy as his hand shoved down under my jeans finding the already wet, slippery place between my legs.

I bit his shoulder through his shirt in response, pulling at the buttons to get it off. Kissing and nipping at each other in a whirl of emotion, as if all the talking, and feelings that couldn’t be expressed in words had to be let lose somehow before they consumed us, we were naked and panting in mere seconds. Sliding lower, his body falling off the edge of the bed, he grabbed my thighs forcing my legs apart, and raising my hips until his mouth engulfed me. I threw my head back then forward, and opened my eyes only to see that his eyes were open also watching my every expression. Our eyes locked – neither of us able to break the spell. I wiggled around trying to get loose, trying to regain some sense of control over my body, but he held me so tight, I tried fighting back again, I knew my thighs would be bruised in the morning. I also knew I didn’t care.

My mind shot from one thought to the next then scattered into pieces until I realized what he was doing, and I struggled even harder to get away. He was overpowering me, consuming me, trying to own me. The more I struggled, the more determined he became; I knew that giving in was the only true option, but my mind refused to let go. Unable to stop my body from responding to his domination, I finally closed my eyes again, signaling that the struggle was over. He read my surrender… Seeing me give in mentally as well as physically, he pulled himself up and thrust inside me, hard, pounding, pushing so deep I could feel him in my womb, over and over… even wrapping my legs around his and squeezing as tight as possible couldn’t stop the force. He
needed
to consume me. My nails dug into his back in a long, deep raking motion causing him to gasp and flinch. I knew I had broken the skin, but he didn’t stop. I bit his arm hard, again drawing blood, and was rewarded with another pounding thrust. I could feel him still looking through me, and knew if I opened my eyes, I would see him staring back. I couldn’t look – I didn’t need to. As I gave in, that edge of pain disappeared, and a sense of calm ecstasy shot through my entire body. I reached up and pulled Michael’s face to mine kissing him, in a wave of fanaticism, until he collapsed on top of me. We just laid there still joined with the sweat of our bodies acting like glue – neither of us said a word.