by Shayne Ford
A soft smile lights up his eyes.
“There is no real love without truth, Jagger. You told me that. You have to find out if this woman really feels something for you or not.”
“How can she do that if it looks as if I’m breaking up with her and go fucking with my best friend?”
“It’ll be that versus everything else she felt for you when she spent time with you, and you kissed her and held her in your arms... when you made love to her,” he says. “She’ll have to listen to her heart. At least she’d want to know the truth. That’s why I think she’ll come to you and ask for an explanation. And when she comes, you’ll make her yours for good.”
2
VIOLET
Slumped in my chair, my face behind my computer screen, I spend more time glancing at the people walking down the corridor, than writing my column.
My eyes follow every silhouette walking across the hallway, my heart fluttering every time a man enters my line of sight.
Liv saunters inside my office and plops on a chair.
“What happened with Jagger?” she asks out of the blue, and my stomach ties in a bow.
“What do you mean?” I ask with a trembling voice, adrenaline surging through my body.
Her eyebrows pop up, her eyes widening. She studies my reaction, surprised.
“Why is he gone?” she asks seriously, and I stop breathing for a moment.
“What do you mean he’s gone...?”
My voice trails off, shot, despair ramming through my veins.
“What are you talking about?” I ask again.
“He quit,” she says, disconcerted.
My mouth falls open.
“He what? When did he quit?”
“He didn’t show up for work on Monday, and then he called in and told them he was quitting. That was two days ago. How come you didn’t know?”
I crumple into my chair, my mind racing.
Dark, conflicted, nonsensical thoughts bounce around in my head.
It’s been a few days. I haven’t talked to him since last Sunday. My last words were the ones I threw at him as I was running out. And then Braxton... Blood rushes to my face as the memory of him comes back to me. This is not good. It can’t be good. What Braxton and I did, wasn’t good. Despite what he had said. Despite how good he felt.
Confused, I look at her.
“I thought he... um... took a few days off,” I mumble.
Her eyebrows knit in a frown.
“Are you still seeing each other?”
Running my hands over my face, I let out a sigh.
“I don’t know,” I say softly.
She pulls her chair closer.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I just don’t.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“Last weekend... It’s, um... It’s a long story. Things were unraveling a bit... and we kind of left each other in a hurry. He hasn’t called since. He wasn’t home either. I have no idea where he is,” I say.
Her eyebrows shoot up again.
“Did you call him, for fuck’s sake??” she hisses under her breath.
“I called him on Monday, and he didn’t call me back.”
“He quit his job on Monday, and now it’s fucking Wednesday,” she says.
I shrug.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It fucking does. If he broke up with you, you need to know. If he didn’t, you have to find out what the hell is going on. Why is it so fucking hard?”
She’s right, but she doesn’t know the whole damn story.
“It’s more than that.”
“What is it?”
I rise to my feet, dart to the door, and close it slowly, making sure it doesn’t make any noise.
“His parents caught us, sort of like, um... in his bed. His mom almost had a heart attack.”
“Caught you? What is this? Victorian era? So fucking what?”
I let out a long exhale.
“It’s complicated. His mom is not much different from mine. She doesn’t like me. He can fuck as much as he likes and whoever he pleases as long as in the end he agrees to a sensible solution, meaning a woman vetted by his family.”
“Why do you keep saying this? There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“Everything is wrong. The fact that I’m older. The fact that I was married and I no longer want a conventional relationship, the fact that his dad likes me. Everything,” I say in one breath, leaving the most important thing out.
She opens her mouth to reply, and I cut her off before she has the chance to talk.
“Listen... Listen to me. I know how my family picked my husband,” I say.
Her eyebrows slowly tilt up.
“They did?” she asks incredulously.
“Nudged me to him, whatever... They looked for a boring man with traditional values. His mom would like the same kind of woman for him.”
“It’s not up to her.”
“Maybe it’s not, but he’s not making the calls. At least not yet. Can we live together? Sure. But that’s not the point. He needs to get on his path, whatever that is, not fight his family and be saddled with someone who pulls him down.”
“Another woman wouldn’t care.”
“Yeah... Well, I’m not that woman. I’ve been through that crap myself. People pressured me to live the way they wanted. I wouldn’t do the same him.”
“You overthink everything, Violet, and you like to complicate things.”
“Maybe I do, or maybe I don’t.”
She leans back in her chair, her eyes rooted on me.
“Do you really want him?”
“Yes, I do...” I admit, quietly, hiding my eyes. “But I don’t want to fight his family. I’m tired of fighting mine. Besides, I don’t even know how to fight for him.”
She studies me.
“You don’t or you won’t?”
“I don’t know. I can’t vouch for his feelings. He’s too young, and in time he’ll change. That’s why I’m torn. He’s so right and so wrong for me at the same time. Not for now, but in the long run. And I know it’s stupid. I know I shouldn’t think about it, but I am. I’m wired that way. His words, the way he makes me feel… Yeah, they tell me that he loves me, but the time is not there. His love hasn’t been tested. His heart could change in a split second. If I throw my whole life out the window, I want to know it’s not for nothing.”
Disappointment sets on her face. She lets out a sigh.
“What can I say? If I were you, I’d think about it, but not for too long. Nothing lasts long enough to allow you the time to make up your mind.”
The days crawl by and the weekend finds me a ball of jitters, nervous and even more confused.
I can’t believe only a week ago, I spent my last night with them, and everything was fine. I’ve been calling him for a few days now. He doesn’t answer his phone. I can tell when his phone is turned off, and when it’s not, and yet he doesn’t call me back. I can’t even get into his voicemail.
He’s probably deactivated it. He’s not home. I can tell that much. I’ve spent hours on my patio and at the window, watching people and traffic.
His parents are home, which makes things infernal. I sneak in and out of my place, making sure I don’t run into anyone.
This is getting ridiculous.
As Saturday afternoon rolls in, cars begin to pull in front of his house. I almost pull a muscle keeping track of who is coming and going.
There’s a party at their house. The sound of classical music mixed with muffled dialogue and delicate laughter wafts through the air.
His parents have a gathering that fills the house and sprawls in the backyard. People bring gifts, and my money is on a birthday party. There’s no trace of Jagger and his friends.
Around six o’clock, I put on my running shoes and wait.
If my surveillance is worth anything, around this time, David Parker takes the dogs for a walk.
They usually stroll toward the end of the street and around the corner before they head to the small park tucked next to the lake.
I check the time before I slip outside and make a turn to the right, careful not to catch anyone’s eyes. At the corner, I stop and stretch and lunge, at the same time scanning the street.
As soon as I spot David Parker and their two small dogs I rush to the park, and wait not far from the entrance.
Minutes later, he walks down an alley and takes a seat on a bench, his eyes trained on his phone.
The dogs start playing in the grass.
I run in his direction, my pulse shooting through the roof.
Alba sees me first. Her tail goes up first, followed closely by her ears. She starts barking to catch my attention, and I couldn’t ask for a better excuse to stop near him.
“Alba! Hey, little girl.”
I halt next to the bench, the two small dogs jumping up and down.
“Violet. What a pleasant surprise!” he says to my utter shock.
He seems genuinely happy to see me again, showing absolutely no resentment for the fact that he caught me butt naked in his son’s bed, next to his son’s best friend, and all that not even a week ago.
“Mr. Parker.”
“You can call me, David,” he says as he rises to his feet and starts disentangling the leashes.
“I can walk Alba,” I offer and he raises his eyes and flashes a quick smile.
“Sure.”
He hands me the leash, and we take a few steps.
“I haven’t seen you... since last Saturday,” he says.
I cringe inwardly.
“I’ve been busy... working.”
He glances at me a couple of times, and by now I’m sure he’s gotten a gist of my tension.
“Have you talked to Jagger?” he asks, and my heart leaps to my throat.
“No,” I murmur, my voice so faint, he stops, forcing me to do the same.
He looks at me.
“Is that why you’ve waited for me?” he asks bluntly, making it useless to deny it.
“Yes,” I say with a trembling voice, unable to hide my nervousness.
“Did you call him?”
“Yes. He hasn’t returned my calls.”
“Oh, I see...” he says, irritation flashing in his voice.
“Do you know where he is?” I ask, no longer caring how begging for his son’s whereabouts makes me look.
He purses his lips, narrows his eyes, and studies me for a few moments, the sympathy I register in his gaze making me feel twice as bad.
“He’s in California with Braxton.”
My heart flips and collapses in my chest.
“He is...?” I ask, struggling to grasp what he just said. “When did they leave?”
“Last Sunday.”
Gauging my reaction, he registers everything, from the trembling of my lips to the slanting of my gaze to the ground, to the tears welling up in my eyes.
“I... um... I think I need to go back,” I mutter, feeling as if I’m about to pass out.
“Wait.”
He fishes his phone out of his pocket, slides his finger over the screen and makes a call. The phone is on speaker, the ringing drifting from it, loud. My chest tightens as the other end picks up and I hear Jagger’s nasal voice.
“Dad?”
David Parker hands me his phone, takes the leash out of my hand and heads back to the bench.
“Dad?” he calls again, a cacophony of voices echoing in the background.
“It’s me...” I say, a sharp pain slicing my throat.
“Violet...?” he asks, his voice lined with surprise.
I say nothing.
“What are you doing with my dad’s phone?” he asks, suddenly suspicious.
“I’ve been calling you,” I say, ignoring his question.
“Yeah... I’ve been busy,” he says, cold.
I stall for a moment, thrown off. Anger rises in me, choking me.
Nothing makes sense. Nothing.
“Is Braxton with you?” I ask, having a hard time unclenching my teeth and speaking.
“Uh-huh,” he says, this time sounding amused.
“Can I talk to him?”
“Nah-uh,” he says playfully.
“Jagger??”
The voice of a female calling in the background gives me an instant splitting headache.
“He’s busy right now,” he says, his voice fading in and out as if he turns and talks to someone else, away from his phone.
“I gotta go,” he says emotionless, and I wish for a miracle to jolt me out of the stupor.
As if things are not bad enough the way they are, I open my mouth again.
“When do you come back? I want to see you,” I say.
I cringe and wince and despise myself for hitting this new low, and yet I wait for his answer.
After a few moments the background clears of all that noise as if he just walked into a different room, and then he finally speaks.
“I don’t know, kitten. You can come see me in Ibiza,” he says, flat, and it feels as if I’m talking to a stranger.
My headache just got worse.
“Ibiza?!”
“Uh-huh. I start working next weekend. The whole summer. It’s gonna be a lot of fun,” he throws at me.
“Is Braxton going with you?”
“Mmm-hmm,” he says, sounding like a spoiled brat.
I clench my jaw so hard I’m about to spit a tooth out. I open and close my mouth a few times, unable to speak.
“I’ll see you there, baby,” he says curtly and hangs up.
I take a long breath as I unglue bloodless fingers from David Parker’s phone. Livid, I stroll back to the bench.
I’m so tense I could break something or kill someone.
“Is everything okay?” David asks, genuine concern rolling over his face.
“Yes,” I say slowly as if I have a ticking device under my tongue.
I manage to produce a small smile as I hand him the phone.
“Seemingly, he’s the one who doesn’t make it easy for me,” I say, unable to hide my sarcasm.
A smile stretches across his face. He seems unfazed by what I just said.
“You know... When women make it hard for a man, they usually want the man gone, when a man makes it hard for a woman, he wants something from her. You have the power to turn things around, Violet. Don’t be afraid to use it,” he says and smiles. “It was nice seeing you again,” he says and walks away from me, soon vanishing out of the park.
3
JAGGER
I shove the phone in my pocket and dart out of the room.
“Jagger?”
“Leave me alone.”
I push Braxton to the side, and before he has the chance to grab me, I sneak out of the house and leave the party behind me.
I jump into the car.
His fist crashes into the hood as I pull away from him, leaving him stranded.
Minutes later, I enter the house.
Dim light rolls over the spacious rooms decorated with minimalist furniture, modern art, and sheer drapes. The wide doors open to a large custom pool, the Pacific ocean stretching in the distance.
I peel my clothes off and jump into the water. I swim for a good half an hour, trying to get rid of that annoying edge. I finally climb out and make a beeline for the shower.
The main door opens and slams closed. His eyes fly to me.
I sneak into the bathroom and lock myself in just as he smacks his fist into the door.
“Jagger!!” he thunders.
“Go the fuck away.”
“Let me in.”
“Go fuck yourself, Braxton!”
He rattles the door, and I leap to it and swing it open.
His eyes sear me.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asks.
“What is wrong with me? Are you fucking asking me that?”
“What did she say?”
I dash to the bar, snatch a bottle of whiskey, fill a glass and empty half of it in one gulp.
Fire burns through me as the liquid rolls down, all the way to my stomach.
He looks at me, lost for words.
I pace to the bedroom, pull clothes out of the closet and get dressed.
“Where are you going?”
“Out.”
“You’re not driving, Jagger.”
“Says who?”
“Me.”
I turn to him.
“Really? What are you gonna do about it? You can’t fucking stop me.”
“I can and I will,” he says, giving me a stern look.“What is your fucking problem?”
I finish fastening my belt and lunge at him.
“What is my problem?” I growl through my teeth. “I hope this stunt pays off because if it doesn’t, you’ll never hear the end of it from me.”
“What did she say?”
“I told you. Nothing,” I shout.
“You tell her you’re gonna be in Ibiza.”
I start buttoning up my shirt. A smirk comes to my face.
“Yeah, I did... Do you honestly think she’s gonna come looking for me?”
He looks straight into my eyes.
“Yes, I do.”
“Well. Maybe that would’ve happened, had you not been the last one who fucked her.”
A cold light glints in his eyes.
“Oh, no... This is not about that.”
“Oh, yeah... That’s exactly what this is about. She has no fucking clue why I pulled away from her. And in her mind, it may as well be because you, like the genius that you are, had decided to rail her one last time.”
He looks at me, thunderstruck.
“I can’t believe it. You’re fucking jealous.” He shakes his head in disbelief, then runs his fingers over his lips. “You’re just like her...”
“Excuse me?!”
He shoots me a harsh look.
“Yeah... She did the same thing. And she’s been doing it for so long. This back and forth thing... What an idiot I am.”
A sad chuckle escapes his lips.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been doing this to me too,” he says, and my heart twists.
