Next to You (Life) (15 page)

Chapter 28

W
i
th my shitty
life, I became a big believer in the ‘you make your own luck’ philosophy. You work hard for what you want and make it happen. It has worked since the first time I fought hard and got respect from the other foster children. I planned hard and was able to survive. Of course after meeting Raj, having to go to a counselor to avoid juvie and being under the roof of the Swansons… my ways and luck changed. However, I still worked hard, made the grades, got the scholarship and created my businesses from scratch.

As I grew, I learned how to control my environment and the outcomes and I mastered avoiding inconvenient incidents. At this point in my life, I know what I like and what I want. The only person that can throw me off my game walks next to me—Rebecca Trent. That woman doesn’t care about my order. She changes my plans more often than not, but I adore the woman although I hate when she does that. It’s not as if she had asked me to join her. No, she woke up today in the mood to go to Pebble Beach and stroll around with her puppy—alone. A beach, not sure what the girl thought she’d encounter, but this isn’t the Maldives, Fiji or her own private island with white sand and warm weather.

There is a blue print I need to review and contracts and… instead, I am here discovering new places.

“Why the sour face, Brightmore?”

“Why the last name, Trent?”

“Because you’re being a killjoy,” she responds. “You didn’t have to come. An hour drive wouldn’t have killed me, nor the mean golfers over on the course.” She points toward the green fields. “Either you change that bitter body posture and lighten up, or go home.”

“And leave you here?”

“I’m done, I didn’t want to do this but enough is enough, Daniel.” She stops, stomps her feet then moves her body one step to the right so she’s right in front of me. The most unexpected move follows. She places each one of her hands on the side of my cheeks grabbing some hair between her fingers and pulls me down. A kiss, it doesn’t last very long, it’s between a brush and a peck… something in between. I place my head on her forehead since she doesn’t let go of my hair and I’m not fighting her. Actually now I’m back into the wanting mode. “Enjoy the moment, let go of the grudge for a day, please. Today I need to let go of everything, have a moment of peace and find something to erase… just stop searing inside.
Please.
Surrender that anger for the next few hours.”

“I’m not angry,” I explain to her, my voice is now flowing with the rhythm of the sea. Relaxed. “We don’t take off out of the blue to—“

“Yes we do, Dan,” Rebecca says as she runs her hands through my hair, making me shiver. “All the time, I learned this from you. The difference is that you organize the outings, you don’t like others—in this specific case me—to spring last minute expeditions on you. That’s why you’re fighting me, isn’t it?” I nod, because she nailed it. “Sometimes it is good to let it go, give up some control. Pause, take a breather and experience the moment. In a couple of hours you can go back to that world of yours where everything is fast, where mergers matter more than dipping your toes in the sand and—“

“What about tomorrow?”

“You can go back to not liking me.” Becca’s lips quiver some, but she controls it fast. “This is… remember that movie where the girl lost her short term memory and needed a daily reminder of what had happened to her since the accident? For the past four days this has been a similar situation. By the end of the day you’re comfortable with me, the next, I need to work for it again. What happens to you at night?”

“You really want to know, Becca?” She nods, the movement is short but constant. “I go to bed without you, needing you and then of course, I wake up without you next to me. I detest it.”

My current mellow mood has a lot to do with that kiss she gave me and the fact that our physical distance is microscopic at the moment. When she departed and returned the ring, she removed my rights to touch her. I don’t have the privilege to claim her mouth, her body or her soul at any time I want. The cycle continues, she won’t let me in until I calm down and I can’t do it until she gives me back what belongs to me—her.

“Yeah, I notice you calm when I touch you.” She sighs and Rusty barks. “But you also avoid almost all contact with me. Hence I kissed you using the element of surprise, you’re this walking contradiction sending opposite signals and confusing us both. Raj said we should go to couples counseling.” Becca’s body begins to shake, she’s biting her cheeks and then releases me because she chokes with the laugh she’s trying to phantom. Recovering from the cough, choke, laughing attack; she takes a deep breath and speaks again, “You and a counselor, I can’t imagine something like that.”

“Been there, done that—twice.” She frowns, then takes my sunglasses off, while pushing hers on top of her head. Those brown eyes want to know more. “When I was younger, it was a way to avoid juvie. Raj, Randy and another friend of theirs pulled strings to make it happen.”

“The guy you killed because you refused to join his gang?” I see red, because I never told her that. “Buddy, he said you saved his life, and yours.”

“Well, yeah, that and then…” I swallow because I’ve no idea how she’s going to react when I tell her I had to go to counseling to get over what happened to her. “After I learned about… Ian.”

“Couples are funny like that,” she says, reaching for my cheek and caressing it with her hand. “I’ve discovered slowly, that when one is affected by an issue, the other hurts too. Symbiosis; nothing to do with codependency.” Her hand slides from my face to my torso and stops right on top of my heart. “They depend on the other one, giving each other support is part of being a unit. Speak up, compromise, be supportive, and respect for one another’s wishes, feelings and privacy. Everything that I went through affected you in a way, and obviously you’re conflicted about it. Thank you, for trying to understand me.”

Understand her? I only tried, but in fact, back then I didn’t do it. That was one of the most important things I read on that pamphlet, the one that my counselor explained again and again. She needed to regain her sense of personal control. The one Ian snatched from her. The one she faked having for so long, until everything waltzed back in to remind her what she lost or never had.

“Now that I know more about your past, I try to—comprehend your side,” Becca says. “You need to control, protect, and make sure that you won’t lose those that you love. Also that they have everything you think they need, and more. We should compromise. I need to know that I’m in charge of my life; that I can provide for myself.”

“Ten,” I tell her. “No, it was before that. Since Bethany Trent—your grandma—died, you were responsible for yourself, Princess.” I place a curl that came loose from her braid around her ear. “A little girl cooking, cleaning, making sure her mother was taken care of and taking her abusive behavior all at once. You’re strong and lived to tell the story, though in order to survive you became the introverted-shy person. The things Donna wouldn’t provide, either you learned to live without them or bought them with the money you earned from babysitting and later waitressing. Now it’s my turn to take care of what’s mine, Princess. That’s you.”

“You can take care of me, but when we’re really together,” she says. “We’ll take care of each other. That’s what relationships are all about.”

“You’ve changed a little.” I kiss her nose. “Though, you’re still sweeter than honey and less introverted. Did you stop loving me?”

“Never,” she answers and takes a step forward. “Walk with me.” This time we link our fingers together. My heart is beating at the same rhythm as the sea, no doubt synchronized with hers.

There’s an ongoing breeze that keeps the sun from warming us. If we were in the northeast I would call this a wind-chill. I’m glad Becca came prepared with everything, from waters to a sweatshirt. Damn, she’s capable of taking care of herself, but I’ve been the one always insisting on doing it for her. Such a tender soul shouldn’t have been fending for her life the way she did, it wasn’t a male chest bumping trip. No, it was the fact that she and I share similar wounds. Parental abandonment, abuse and… I want to make life easier for her, make her happy.

“Let’s go on a date,” she finally speaks after about a mile of walking in silence.

“That’s bold of you to ask, Becca.” I wink at her and that grants me a playful slap on the arm. “Don’t you think I’ve taken you on a lot of those, dates, Princess? How about the time we celebrated your driver’s license?”

“If I didn’t know it was a date, it doesn’t count.” Then she breaks and frowns. “I was sixteen, Dan. Really?” I shake my head, because back then I considered her my little friend, the tiny little one that needed TLC. “When?”

“Making a timeline up here?” I stroke her temple with my lips and she beams. “Not sure. The first time I realized you were no longer a little girl, was at Ty’s wedding. You looked—“

“You pampered me so much that day.” She grins and resumes our walk. “First you bought me a dress—my first formal gown. Then you sent me to an exclusive salon where they cut my hair, showed me how to apply makeup and… you taught me how to dance.” She lowers her voice and her mind is gone, “Rockefeller Center, there was a shooting star—“

“A plane,” I interrupt her. “Switzerland was a star, New York was a plane, baby. You almost fell trying to get a good look at it because you wouldn’t believe me. Last time I checked, you still make wishes upon planes—fake stars.”

“I did make a wish, back then you didn’t know because I made sure not to tell you.” She turns her head to look at me and she chews her lip before continuing her conversation. “Ever since my sixteenth birthday, you’ve always wanted to know what they are—my wishes—and that one was special. A prince, to rescue me… to love me. That’s what I wished for.”

If any other woman or person in the world told me that, I’d laugh. But for Becca, a wish that big is special. Her wishes have always been part fairy tale, part trying to forget or fix her crappy life. At eighteen, and after what had happened just a year prior in her house, I can see her wishing for a life line. That’s what the prince was about, someone to pull her out of the hole. The fact that she pinpointed the same time I came to terms with the fact that I would do anything for her makes sense.

“I believe we both fell in love with each other right then,” she says and I agree. “But since neither one knew better, we labeled it with the wrong tag and treated the most important thing of our relationship without the necessary care.”

“I would like to take this new you on a date, Becca,” I tell her because her mind keeps wandering and I don’t want anything to disturb our peace. “But if you think about it, we’ve been on a long date ever since we met. It was nothing serious at the beginning, an only friends-platonic period until… New York. When, as you said, I fell in love with you, but I didn’t know what it was.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she confirms as she scrunches her nose and takes a deep breath. “We lost the window, right there. We put each other in the friend zone and everything went into a dormant stage. What do you think awakened it?”

“A call of a stranded girl in a foreign country, because I’m a dumbass,” I tell her. “Deja vu, we already went through this conversation.” Except we’re not in bed, and she isn’t in my arms waking up as my girlfriend. “Unless you’re talking about yourself?” She nods and smiles. “Do you have answers?” She shakes her head and presses her lips into a thin line.

“I have this thing,” Becca says gesturing with her hands and moving the leash that holds Rusty in all directions. I take it from her to steady the poor guy. “Years back, when you were dating all those models, I wondered if he hadn’t touched me, if you’d have looked at me different.” That hit me directly in the gut. “But I would shake any of those thoughts from my brain, knowing that women were temporary for you, and I was permanent, because we were friends, best friends—family.”

“Another reason why you fought against our relationship at the beginning?” She nods and smiles. “Miss Trent, you’re this little open book that keeps giving and giving information. What else is there? Any insight on when you’ll take this relationship to the next step?”

“Uhmm.” She raises an eyebrow at the same time her stomach makes those hungry noises. “Oops, I think I’m hungry, you?” I nod. “I have food in the car and it’s getting too cold to continue don’t you think?”

Before heading back, I grab her by the waist pulling her close to my body. “I love you, Rebecca Trent, please fight for this with me. I don’t want to lose you.”

She stretches herself and I bend down to meet her in the middle. Our mouths meet and this time I draw her into a gentle, lazy kiss; a tender recognition of that mouth I have missed so much.

“So… can I call you my girlfriend now?” I ask when we finally separate and she laughs, nodding at the same time. “Thankfully, I was about to go out of my fucking mind since I have been banned from that pink world of yours, Bex.”

Chapter 29

I
t’s six in
the morning and as we’ve done for the past week and a half, I’m standing outside Becca’s condo. We go out for a run with Rusty, have breakfast together and then get ready to go to work. Today is different, she hasn’t come out, the lights inside the house are off and I hear Rusty’s paws pushing the glass door. I try her cell phone but my call goes to voicemail after the fourth ring. Then I dial her home phone, and I hear it ringing, but there’s no answer. I worry and decide not to waste any time, pulling out my keys, I use the spare one Buddy gave me back when we bought the places and open the door.

“Rebecca,” I call out. The entire house is dark and there’s not one noise around. The security alarm beeps and I attempt to disable it by using her usual code—the year when her favorite fairy tale was written plus the number seven—and it works. Rusty wags his tale as he sees me and stares at the glass door. The silence inside the house is unnerving and after what happened with her and the Patricks, my gut clenches. “Rebecca.

“What the hell, Rebecca!” My voice reaches the loudest tone I can produce, there’s no answer and I’m about to call Tony, Nick and the police. Her alarm clock goes off and I head to her room. The smell of bile hits my nostrils as I open the door of the master bedroom. I flip the switch and find a pile of blankets over her head. “Baby.” I approach her side of the bed to turn off the squeaking noise of the clock and my gaze goes to Becca’s face right after, which is red. “What’s with the pile of blankets? It’s late. I’ve been waiting for you.” I touch her forehead and she’s on fire. I kiss it—her way to verify there’s a fever. “You’re burning up, open your eyes, Princess.”

Not wasting time, I head to the bathroom where I run her a warm bath to cool her down. Only God knows when the fever started. I remember yesterday she didn’t eat much during dinner and kicked me out early because she wanted to go to bed early.
‘I feel tired,’
she mentioned. I thought she was still recovering from the hike where we went to Berry Creek Falls. I’m guessing now that it was the beginning of something big. As the water fills the bathtub, I search for the ibuprofen bottle and fill a cup with water; leaving them on the edge of the tub. I head back to the bedroom and without warning I unwrap Becca from the thermal bed she created. Immediately her legs fold toward her chest and she hugs them.

“You know the drill, Princess,” I say, and take off her socks, then I look at her pajamas and the pink has been overtaken by the bile stains. “Gross, this is bad. The bathroom needs a deep cleaning around the toilet and your pajamas… well, let’s say you smell sick, look sick and have the sickness stains to prove it. You should’ve called me, Princess.” I text Betsy and ask her to cancel my meeting for today, it’s going to be a long week. I undress before taking care of Becca. “As soon as your temperature goes down I’ll be cleaning this… place.” The entire room needs a thorough clean. “I must really love you.”

This isn’t the way I imagined we’d be seeing each other naked again. It was more along the lines of dim lights, sexy lingerie and me kissing every inch of her beautiful body. Instead, I need to control my dick and submerge with her inside the tub filled with warm water. An old remedy to bring her fever down, that along with a couple of ibuprofens should do the trick.

“Open your mouth, love,” I say after we sit inside the bathtub. I help her by placing the tablets on top of her tongue and pushing the cup gently so she can swallow them. Right after, she places her head on my chest. “That should make the fever go down soon.” After all this time I haven’t heard her say one word. Not even the typical,
‘Daniel leave me alone. I’m cold.’
“Baby I beg you to talk, tell me something.”

“Not feeling well,” the horsy voice says.

“I’m here, baby,” I whisper. “Always next to you, we’ll talk about your night and call Drew later. For now rest and let’s hope your fever goes down soon.”

I’m not sure how long it takes, but as her skin turns from hot to warm and the water turns cold, I decide to leave the tub and head to her bedroom so we can dress. I call Drew and convince him to swing by and check on Becca. When she opens her eyes, instead of looking sick, her eyes look not only ill but full of lust. I refuse to comply, she isn’t herself right now and after I tell her, her response floors me.

“One time, like a one night stand,” the incoherence of what she phrased doesn’t hit her brain, only my lust and before I do something stupid, I put my clothes on. God only knows how much I need her and I miss her. Behaving like a saint while bathing with her had been a huge sacrifice, one I doubt I can repeat soon. Seeing that I disregarded her offer, she speaks again, “Fine, you’re missing all this.”

“Shirt,” I try to hide the laugh that’s threatening to take over. In her right mind she’d never tell me something that blunt while pointing at herself. I turn toward her furniture and look for her clothes; panties and a large t-shirt. Surprise, surprise, here are all those t-shirts I lost months ago. A smile takes over my face knowing she took her favorites to Geneva, at least she took a piece of me with her. “Drew will arrive soon. In the mean time I’ll clean this room and you’ll stay downstairs on the couch until I finish. If you behave, we might come out of this one unhitched, Princess.”

That’s code for: don’t make me take you to the hospital. However, I don’t say it out loud. Why torture her?

*

“Well, since Guatemala has been cancelled, what are we going to do, Dan?” Becca asks, while we eat breakfast. This is her fourth day in confinement. Her sinuses are clear, there is no more fever and her throat is also back to normal. The charity she volunteered at didn’t allow her to travel sick and we both stayed behind. Perhaps next summer we’ll join them when they go to Ecuador. Bummed by the news, she agreed to go with me to a Charity Ball—I used the key word, charity. I didn’t give her any specifics, she of course doesn’t know we’re heading to London or that this one is ten times bigger than the Annual Gala Dinner of our Foundation. “Can we skip the ball, I’ll do anything. Definitely not sex, since you’re no longer interested.”

“Let it go. I can’t believe you’re still upset about that one night stand offer.” She shrugs. “Bex, you were seriously sick. I had no idea—“

“If I offer it right now?”

“I’ll take it.” Her lips shut and the thin line tells me she’s upset and trying to pick a fight. So unlike Becca. “What’s wrong, baby, whatever is bothering you we can fix it together.”

“I already told you, the Charity Ball.” Fuck, she’s getting too worked up about the upcoming social event and I think I know why. The dress arrived yesterday and the seamstress is coming tomorrow to make any necessary alterations to it. ‘Too much’ were the words she said when she saw it. It’s a simple black strapless dress with some soft pink details; the designer dress says elegant and classy, but they also included the invoice inside the box and she said loud and clear: ‘This is crazy expensive.’ The shoes that arrived along with the dress, settle her stormy banter about the price I had paid for the former. Shoes, the one thing Becca can’t get enough of, well that and chocolate. Yet, the fact that I’ll introduce her as my girlfriend to the outside isn’t settling well. “Tell them you’re not interested, that we—“

“Charity,” I repeat the word she’s never going to turn down. “You’re going to deny—“

“Low blow, Dan.” She twitches her lips. “At least tell me about that surprise you have for after the torture—I mean the Ball. Is it a trip?” I nod. She nods too and then takes a bite of cantaloupe. “What is it?” she speaks after she’s done chewing and swallowing it. Before I answer since I’m also eating, she starts her own monologue. “Well… is it hiking the Himalayas? Swimming with sharks in the Galapagos Islands? No, we already did that.” I cross my arms, this is entertaining. “Well, that was all you, I only watched and waited for your remains to make it to the surface. That’s all I got, baby, what’s your death wish this time?”

“Didn’t you hear? I’m settling and decided to stop those crazy stunts. Hopefully I’m lucky enough and I marry this vixen I’m trying to date.” She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Maldives up to your standards?” She smiles and nods without saying anything else. “Two weeks without any outside contact in paradise. It’s our summer vacation, birthday trips, pre-holiday relaxation, and winter warm up all in one.”

“Wow, we really missed a lot last year,” a big sigh follows her comment. Then she gives me a coy smile. “If you play your cards right,” her eyes crinkle and it takes a long time for her to finish whatever she wants to say, “you might get lucky during the trip, Mr. Brightmore.”

“Luck has nothing to do with what we’ll do in the Maldives,” I tell her. “On second thought, we should head to our private island. I hear the latest Princess decree included something along the lines of butt naked. She made a lot of changes.”

Becca tilts her head, the left corner of her lips lift and whatever she’s thinking about is making me want to take her one time offer and get her upstairs.

“Did she now?” She takes a bite of her quiche. “Seems like the Princess was busy.” Becca leans herself on the back of the chair and crosses her arms. “Please tell me more of those changes she made. Naked Friday, Sexy Sunday, Wicked Wednesday? I’m dying to know about these new laws you speak about.”

“Baby, the power is going to your head,” I tell her because nothing comes to mind at the moment. My brain can’t move well thinking about her naked, under me and screaming my name during Sexy Sunday. A call to Betsy that from now on I’ll work Fridays from home to enjoy a twenty four hour Naked Friday sounds like a perfect executive decision. I stand up, grab the dishes and take them to the sink. “Let’s forget about the entire legal system you established on that island of yours. We should just concentrate on making out all day. If you’re lucky, I’ll get sick enough that we’ll have no other choice but to skip the big bad Ball you’re so afraid of.”

“I knew I kept you around for a reason, smart guy.” She springs up from the chair. “Let’s get you sick and I’ll play nurse for an entire week. Don’t make that face. I never said naughty nurse, Brightmore. You missed the window of opportunity, now we’re back to dating dark ages style.”

“Mmm, I’m sure I can arrange that. I can picture it already, inquisition type crosses, ties—” Becca slaps me on the chest and growls, no it’s more like a yap, yes the sound of a cute puppy and then she storms toward the stairs. “That’s physical abuse, Trent, though I’ll pay a fortune to see you in a dominatrix outfit. I don’t think that’s your scene, baby.”

“Not funny.” I barely hear her voice coming from upstairs.