“Hayes, let’s try this one more time. Would you like to come in for a drink?” I say with laughter in my voice.
Hayes wavers for a second. “I would love to, Cathy. But I don’t think I should.”
I’m taken aback by his answer. “Why not?” I ask. Should I be hurt? I mean, it’s not like I want the guy to be attracted to me, but I most certainly didn’t expect that answer.
“Thing is,” he scratches the back of his neck, “I like you, Cathy. I really do. And it’s not like I’ve been pining for you after all this time, but after tonight I think I could possibly grow to like you a lot. However, you’re not ready.”
Hayes takes a step closer to me, making me want to take a step back. The proximity of his body isn’t welcome, not yet. He takes my hand in his and raises it to his lips, planting a kiss in my palm. “When you said that you weren’t ready, I didn’t believe you. Not completely. But after tonight, I think you’re right. You’re not ready. I wish you were because I feel this connection to you, and it’s such a shame. So If I go inside your apartment, I might not be able to hold myself back and do something very stupid that I will regret later on.”
“Oh.” I’m stunned with his honesty and the meaning of his words.
“Can I ask you something very personal?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s not really a question. It’s more a piece of advice. You’re obviously still very much in love with your ex-husband. Fight for him.”
I feel like cold water is being poured down on me.
“Um, what? I told you what happened. W-what makes you think...No. I couldn’t. He hates me.”
“I don’t know, Cathy. If I were him, even after everything that transpired between you two…”
“No, no. I can’t. It’s been four years, and he’s getting married. I’m not going to spoil things for him. I can’t.”
Tilting his head to the side and smiling apologetically at me, Hayes remains quiet for what seems an eternity. “Okay. I will let it go. Anyway, it’s been a pleasure, but it’s getting late and I must go.”
“Wait. W-will I see you again?”
“Whenever you want. I’m a call away.”
“Even if I just need to talk to you. You know, as a friend?”
“Especially as a friend,” he whispers in my ear.
After saying goodbye, I shut the door behind him and call my dad.
“Hello. That was a quick date.” There’s curiosity in his voice.
“Yes. It was a friendly date, Dad.”
“Pft. No man ever goes on a friendly date.”
“Well, trust me on that one, Dad. Do you want to hear something funny and pretty sad?”
“Yes.”
“He told me he didn’t want to come in for a drink because I’m obviously still hung up on my ex. It’s official. I’m pathetic.”
“Oh, baby girl.”
“It’s okay. I knew I wasn’t ready, but at least that’s out of the way.”
“But you still need to—”
“I know, but not yet. I will when I’m ready.”
My dad laughs into the phone. “Let’s just hope it’s not when you’re sixty, okay dear?”
“Ha ha ha, very funny. How’s Nadia? Was she a monster?”
“Sleeping like an angel.” My dad chuckles when he mentions the word angel.
We talk some more about my date and what Nadia had for dinner, then hang up.
Lying alone in my bed as I stare at the ceiling covered in the shadows of the night, my mind rehashes tonight’s events. How sweet Hayes turned out to be, how much fun it was to talk to him, and how much I like him, but how quiet my heart remained throughout the entire night. Not once did it skip a beat. Not once did butterflies attack my stomach. It was as pleasant and sweet as vanilla ice cream.
How I wish he could be my chocolate. Really. But in a way I’m relieved that nothing came of it because as crazy as it sounds, I don’t want to forget Ben. I don’t.
Suddenly feeling very cold, I pull the blanket up to my chin and turn to lie on my side. With sleep eluding me, I keep thinking about Hayes’ advice. To fight for Ben. For a short second, I wish I could.
I wish it with all my heart because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully let go of him.As I glance around the busy coffee shop, I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the smell of coffee grinds, baked goods, and nutmeg. When my eyes land on Amy, I can already tell she’s waiting for Nadia and my dad to step away so she can attack me with questions about my date with Hayes.
Oh, she’s going to be disappointed.
The moment they are gone to place our orders, Amy pulls her chair closer to mine and begins her sleuthing. “Quick, tell me before Nadia gets back with your dad. How was your date with Hayes last night? Did you kiss him? Please tell me you did because gosh, that man is drop-dead gorgeous and worth a fortune. Not that you care about that stuff,” Amy murmurs as she plays with a lock of red hair.
Chuckling, I pause as I let curiosity get the best of her.
“Oh my God, Cathy. You’re killing me here!” she exclaims.
“It went great. And no, we didn’t kiss. I hate to tell you, but apparently even Hayes agrees that I’m not rea—”
“Cathy? Catherine, is that you?” a man asks with wonder in his voice.
It’s him.
With my mouth open, I lift my gaze and stare at the man with the eyes I still dream about, watching me with an incredulous expression on his achingly beautiful face. I once read somewhere that it’s through eye contact that souls catch on fire.
Well, mine is burning to the ground.Heart racing.
Exploding euphoria.
I can’t breathe.
Oh, there go the dormant butterflies, awakened by one look.
“Hi,” I manage to say as I try to fight through an inability to think straight. I want to get up, take him in my arms, hug him, and kiss him for all the days, minutes, and seconds that he hasn’t been part of my life.
“Hi.”
He stands there, staring at me as if I am a ghost he can’t believe he’s seeing.
“Um, How h-have you been?” I stutter like a nervous child.
“Good. Could be better. Have been better,” he answers as he leans forward, closer to my chair.
I swallow hard as I try to smooth a nonexistent crease on my jeans. “Oh, t-that’s great!”
He clears his throat as he’s getting ready to speak when I hear Nadia calling for me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath because when I open them he’ll have seen her by then. And I’m not exactly sure what his reaction will be.
Shit.
“Momma! Momma! Momma!” Nadia calls for me. I look up and see my dad watching him with hatred in his eyes and then glancing my way as if asking me what to do next. I shake my head, letting him know not to let Nadia move closer to us. When my dad gets the hint, he takes her in his hand and walks over to the other side of the coffee shop.
Out of sight, I lift my gaze to meet Ben’s once more, but he’s not watching me for once. His vision follows the path of Nadia’s steps. Feeling not a tug but yank in my heart, I get lost in him. I absorb every new detail in his appearance. He’s still just as handsome as before, but now there’s a roughness in his look. He looks wiser.
Still watching him and trying to absorb his face in my memory since I don’t know when I’ll see him again, if ever, his question brings me back to reality.
“I-Is that your daughter?” he stammers.
“Yes.” I avoid looking at him when I answer him. Instead, I study my coffee cup.
“How old is she?”
I notice that the more he speaks the huskier his voice grows.
“Three and a half.” I finally raise my eyes and meet his cloudy ones.
“Oh.” He seems to be doing the math in his head.
I hear someone coughing.
Amy. I forgot she was here with me. Glancing her way, Amy stares at me with bulging eyes, and nods in someone’s direction.
“Ben, baby, are you ready?” A very feminine, young, and raspy sexy voice asks.
I turn to look at the much younger and drop dead gorgeous woman as she wraps her slim arm around Ben’s waist. Flinching at the familiarity in her touch of Ben’s body, I take her in. She looks familiar.
Oh.
That would be because she’s Kerry, the intern.
The one he kissed.
The one he’s going to marry.
I can feel my barely healed heart slowly crack open again, the emotional stitches rupturing once more.
I don’t want to watch him with another woman, so I say a quick goodbye and leave. I don’t care that I’m leaving Amy, my dad…
Oh my God.
I must go back. I need to get Nadia. I need to hold her in my arms so she can shield me from the tsunami of pain and memories threatening to sweep me away.
After tossing and turning in bed for what feels like hours, I look at the clock and realize it’s already 3:00 a.m. I groan, cover my head with a pillow, and close my eyes, willing sleep to take me.
But it’s not working.
As I hear the fast thumping of my heart, I can still remember the coffee
shop incident vividly.
I’m not sure whether I want to cry, or scream, or just disappear.
I want to really have a meltdown, not wake up tomorrow and wallow in sadness. But I know I can’t. So as much as I would like to just not care and let gloom wrap itself around me, I know I can’t.
Shit.
Ugh.
After a while, I give up the fight against insomnia. I need a glass of wine. Yes, that’s exactly what I need. I get up and make my way to the kitchen. I’m grabbing the bottle of red when I hear a knock on my door.
Glancing at the clock above the fridge, I take in the time.
Who could that be?
Afraid that it’s a neighbor with an emergency, I put on an old sweatshirt that I use around the house and head towards the door.
“Yes?” I ask the stranger.
“Cathy. It’s me. Open the door.”
“Ben?” After swallowing hard, I ask without opening the door, “What are you doing here?”
I look at the clock once more. It’s 3:36 a.m.
“Cathy, please. Open the door,” he pleads.
One moment I’m opening the door, and the next Ben’s arms are holding me in a choking embrace.
Not knowing what to do. I don’t move. I feel scared to move. Maybe I’m dreaming that he’s here. If that’s the case, I don’t want to wake up. I want to get lost in this bittersweet dream. I want to get lost in the feel of his body against mine. Oh, how I’ve missed him. His touch. His smell. The way my body instantly recognizes its missing half. Inhaling his essence, I close my eyes and let myself dream a little more.
Yes.
This must be a dream.
“Cathy, Cathy, Cathy,” he murmurs gruffly in my ear.
“Hmmmm?” I didn’t know dreams talked back.
“Cathy, answer me. Is s-she his?” His voice breaks.
Oh, no.
This is not a dream.
Slowly I open my eyes as I drown in an ocean of maple brown. How beautiful they are. How sad they are. His hazy eyes look red and swollen.
“Answer me, Cathy. Please, I need to know. Is she his?” He asks.
“Oh, Ben. Does it matter?”
I watch as he tightens his jaw and fists his hands. “It matters to me. Is she?”
I look away from him and stare at the floor. “I don’t know. I don’t know if she’s yours or Arsen’s. I-I had been...” Shame makes my face burn and robs me of words to finish my sentence.
“Yes, I know. You were f**king us both.”
Wincing at his cruelty, I carefully move out of his warm hold. I take a few steps back until we are standing in front each other. So close, yet so far. My body immediately aches for his touch…I ache for him. I wrap my arms around my stomach, clutching myself as if trying to ward off my body from further hurt.
“Ben, what do you want me to say? I’ve told you. I’m sorry.” I rub my arms and meet his stare. “I don’t know who the father is, and it doesn’t matter. It won’t change how much I love her.” I fight through the pain I feel in the back of my throat, my stomach, my heart, everywhere. “Because she is mine. Not yours, not his. She’s mine. She’s all I have left of either of you, and I l-love her no matter who—”
“No matter who the father is,” Ben finishes the sentence for me. “Why didn’t you tell me about her? I would have helped.”
“I tried telling you that day when I asked you to meet me at the coffee shop.”
I watch him wince with the recollection of that day.
An hour goes by as we sit on the floor in silence.
Sometimes we stare at each other.
Sometimes we stare at nothing at all.
I play with my nails. Ben pulls his hair.
I clutch at myself. Ben rocks back and forth on his place by the door.
My hands shake. His closed fists beat the floor.
Time seems to be seeping away from us. I want to move and sit next to him and let myself enjoy his proximity and whatever time we have left together, but I don’t. Instead, I watch as his hands clasp his hair. It’s much longer than the last time I saw him. It reminds me of how he looked when we first met. Wild dark curls.
Looking at the clock, I realize it’s almost five in the morning. He needs to go before Nadia wakes up. I don’t want him to, but I don’t want Nadia waking up to a stranger in the apartment.
A stranger who may be her father.
Oh, the irony.