by Lisa De Jong
An Arsen smile.
A smile that snaps me out of my Arsen daze.
Suddenly I feel like I need to put some space between us, so I move to sit down on the couch. Arsen follows my lead and sits next to me. Too near. His thigh is touching mine, and I can feel the warmth radiating off his body. With one of his arms spread along the couch behind my back, I feel him everywhere. He’s everywhere.
It feels comfortable.
It feels organic.
But should it?
I’m not sure.
“In the moment, I thought the kiss would teach them a lesson. Not sure why.” Turning to face him, I smile deviously at him. “Maybe I just wanted to shut them up. I shouldn’t have, though. If Ben ever kissed someone else, I would kill him, but it’s okay. I wouldn’t call that a kiss. The way you reacted, it was more like kissing a dead fish.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? My very married friend had her damn lips on my mouth…fuck. Give me another chance and I’ll show you how much of a dead fish I’m not, Dimples. “
“Are you serious? Whatever.” I shake my head disapprovingly. “You digress. You need to get your act together, kiddo.”
“Wait, what? What are you talking about? And, Dimples, kids don’t fuck like I do.”
“You really need to stop cursing so much. I’m talking about the fact that I had to excuse your slutty behavior to that pair of nitwits and as I was doing it I realized it’s no one’s fault but yours! If you don’t enjoy being objectified, stop airing your dirty laundry for the whole world to see.”
Flashing a roguish smile, he removes his arm from behind me and sits up straighter.
“And stop grinning like an idiot. I’m trying to be serious here. I know your game. I can tell it bothers you when people only want to know the fake you. You know, the playboy, the womanizer, the rich boy; instead of trying to get to know the real you. So stop acting like an asshole and start acting like an adult. Prove people wrong, that you’re not just some kind of loser living off his daddy’s money. Show them the real Arsen. The one I know. The one who understands the company better than his own dad. The one who takes time to bring a pregnant lady cupcakes because she likes them. The one who never ignores the plain girls. Then maybe people will stop publishing all that trash about you, and I won’t have to excuse you to strangers and kiss you in front of them to make a point!”
The smile gone, Arsen glides himself closer to me if that’s even possible, and takes my hand in his. The gesture is not sexual, yet it feels intimate. The heat of his palm imprints itself onto my skin.
“Fuck, Catherine. Is that why? You did that for me?” His voice is raspy.
“Yes, of course. You’re my friend.”
Silently, he watches me with eyes that shine so bright they look feverish.
Does he always watch people with such intensity?
After a moment, he murmurs, “Like I said before, Ben is a fucking lucky guy.”
I ignore his comment and ask him, “Arsen, I know it bothers you. Why not do something about it?”
Without letting go of my hand, he lifts his shoulder in a careless manner.
“I—”
“Hi. I’m sorry to be so late.”
****
Looking up from my place on the couch, I see Ben standing in front of us in all his tall and dark glory. When I’m about to greet him, I notice the hard expression on his face, a frown settling on his brow. His eyes aren’t devouring my face, and his lips aren’t smiling back at me as usual. No. Instead he seems to be intensely studying my lap. Odd. Lowering my gaze I see what’s caught his attention.
Arsen’s hand covering mine.
All of a sudden, what felt like a harmless gesture between friends not a moment ago now seems immoral.
Improper.
Offensive.
I try to come up with an innocuous excuse to let go of Arsen’s hand without simultaneously hurting his feeling and appearing guilty to Ben.
“Baby! You’re here,” I say as I stand up to greet him, removing my hand from under Arsen’s as naturally as possible. Walking up to Ben, I stand on my tip toes to hug him hello. Before I know it, the muscles of his arms are around my small frame, tightly embracing me and lifting me off the floor as he kisses me possessively. Claiming me. Still suspended in the air and in his strong hold, I lift my gaze to meet his after the kiss ends. He isn’t watching me. He is looking past my shoulders. He is staring straight at Arsen.
I know it.
Without bothering to turn around and have my suspicions confirmed, I place both my hands on either side of his face and guide him back to look at me. When his warm brown eyes are boring deeply into mine, I finally smile.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” The scowl begins to recede, and his eyes immediately soften.
“You finally came. I was beginning to worry that you weren’t going to show up.”
Liar.
My stomach tightens with guilt as I realize I had forgotten he was supposed to meet me here.
At last, when he slowly and intimately slides me down the front of his body, a smile appears on his handsome face, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. “I’m sorry. The meeting ran a bit longer than expected, but I’m here now. Ready to meet…” Ben lets the last word hang in the air.
Once I’m safely deposited on the floor, I let go of Ben’s embrace. Grabbing his hand in mine, I turn around guiding him back to the couch where Arsen is sitting. He’s observing us like a hawk with a blank expression on his face. The roguish smile is gone, the fire extinguished from his eyes.
I clear my throat because all of a sudden it feels as if I have swallowed cotton balls. “Ben, this is Arsen Radcliff. Arsen, this is my husband, Ben Stanwood.” The two men stare at each other without saying a word. The tension is so palpable in the small space between us that I can feel the hair on my neck rising. Arsen doesn’t make any move to stand up. He just stays rudely sitting on the couch while Ben and I stand over him. I’m about to drag Arsen’s ass off the couch so that the two men can shake hands or something, when Ben stretches his own. “Nice to meet you, Arsen. Cathy has spoken very highly of you. She seems to like having you around.”
As they shake hands, I notice that the knuckles in Arsen and Ben’s hands are turning white.
Men.
A fake smile that makes Arsen look almost ugly taints his features as he replies, “Yeah?” Turning to look at me, his eyes warm for a second before turning cold again. “I like being around Dimples. She’s nice to look at,” he sneers.
What the hell?
Where did that come from?
Flattening his lips, Ben ends the handshake abruptly. With the greeting over, I’m about to walk around the table to sit back on the couch when I feel Ben’s hand wrap around my elbow possessively, halting me mid-step. Puzzled, I turn to look at him.
He takes a step closer to me and leans down to whisper in my ear, “One drink and we are out of here, got it?”
My eyes widen at the sharp tone of his voice and his words. His jaw set, I know there’s no room for a rebuttal.
I guess one drink it is.
I nod as I free myself from his hold and make my way to the couch. Ben seems to have other ideas about seating arrangements because he pulls a chair out for me right in front of Arsen so that the table is in between us.
What the hell is going on?
An unsmiling Ben looks as hard as a rock as he waits for me to be seated. On the other hand, Arsen, with eyes so cold they look like shards of ice, flashes a hard smile at us. One that reminds me of the night we met. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, all I can do is stand there and hope that tonight doesn’t turn into a big ugly mess.
Arsen spreads his arm in an inviting gesture, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “Please, do be seated. I can’t fucking wait to hear what else Dimples has said about me. I hope it’s all good.” He leans forward and looks me straight in the eye before continuing, “Because we’re good together…very goo
d together. Aren’t we, Catherine?”
What is Arsen trying to do? More importantly, what is he hinting at?
When Ben is seated, he reaches for my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it once before lowering it to his lap. Our fingers intertwined, I stare into his scorching eyes for a moment longer before facing Arsen once more. There’s an indecipherable air surrounding him. I feel like I don’t know this Arsen.
This Arsen is a stranger to me.
After the waiter leaves with our order, we sit in a triangle of tension without saying a word. If it weren’t for the music playing in the background, you’d probably be able to hear a pin drop. My attention is focused on Arsen’s long finger tapping the table-top in between the couch and chairs.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
After a few seconds, I can’t take the silence anymore. Swallowing hard, I tuck some hair behind my ear; the silky threads running between my fingers calm me down.
“Uh, so, babe…” A flash of anger crosses Arsen’s eyes but it’s gone in a second, replaced with a nonchalant one. “I’m so jealous of Arsen. There’s a possibility that he’ll be attending the premiere of Melissa Stewart’s new movie as her date! Are you dying of jealousy?” I bump his shoulder in a teasing manner. I want to pretend that I brought Melissa up just because it was the first topic to pop in my head, but it isn’t.
I brought her up so that Ben knows Arsen is with someone.
His muscles relaxing, Ben smiles at me for the first time since he arrived to the bar. “I could never be jealous of anyone. I have you,” he says as he squeezes my hand in his before addressing Arsen. “That’s awesome, man. She’s gorgeous, and the movie looks good. Cathy has a sick obsession with gossip magazines, so the trash they publish tends to rub off on me.”
As he leans carelessly on the back on the couch, he stares at us for what feels like forever. It’s like he’s memorizing the way Ben and I look together. “Save it. We’re over. I won’t be surprised if tomorrow she is photographed with some other unsuspecting fucking loser.”
When I hear this piece of information, I don’t feel sorry. I’m happy. The realization stuns me.
“Anyway, I’ve just remembered a previous engagement. Sorry, but I’ve got to jet.” Arsen takes his wallet out to pay when Ben stops him.
“No, please. Let me get the bill. It’s the least I can do.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Are you fucking shitting me? I can take—”
“No. I’d like to get the bill. You’ve done so much for Cathy already. I want to get this.”
Arsen stares at Ben with dislike in his narrowed eyes. Just when I think he’s going to reject his offer once more, he tilts his head to the side and pins me down with his gaze. Slowly, a smile appears on his face. “You know what? Go ahead. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ben. Cathy,” he runs a hand through his hair, “I’ll see ya around.”
Standing up, he grabs his suit jacket that was lying on his side of the couch and says his last goodbye. He doesn’t shake hands with Ben, and he doesn’t even turn to look at me as he walks away.
It hurts.
I don’t know why, but his indifference hurts. It shouldn’t because he’s nothing to me, but it still does.
I’m about to excuse myself to Ben saying that I need to use the restroom, when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around in my seat to find Arsen standing behind my chair. Ready to stand up and ask him what the matter is, he leans down and plants a lingering kiss on my cheek. His warm lips make my skin tingle.
“I’m sorry, Dimples,” he ruefully whispers in my ear, then moves away. I lift a hand to my cheek to rub the exact spot where he kissed me, not sure if I’m rubbing the tingling sensation away, or if I’m trying to seal the kiss within my skin.
He walks up to the bar to say something to the bartender, a model perfect Asian woman who smiles and writes something on the palm of his hand. When she walks away to serve other clients, a smiling Arsen turns to look at a group of young women sitting together, admiring him. He hands them what looks like a business card and kisses each one of them on the cheek. The flirting doesn’t bother me, but when he kisses them on the same spot where he kissed me, it feels as if he is punching me in the gut.
It feels like betrayal.
I’m still watching his retreating figure when he reaches the entrance to the bar. Inside me, a strong voice is begging him to turn back around once more, to let me see him one last time.
And then everything becomes a blur.
Ben lets go of my hand.
Arsen turns around.
Our eyes connect for a moment.
I see something in his eyes that resonates deep inside me, but I don’t understand it.
I don’t think I’m ready to understand it.
Then he is gone.
I feel bereft. As if some basic living part of me has gone with him, leaving me incomplete, lacking. Perplexed and uncomfortable with my own feelings, I remember that Ben is here with me. Turning to look at my husband whose presence I completely forgot about, I feel shame scorching my skin an angry red.
“I think we should go,” he says tonelessly.
Chapter 15
The ride home is quiet.
No hands are held, no laughs, no questions about how our day went...maybe everything has already been said, or nothing needs to be said at all. When we get home, our cat is the only living thing there to welcome us.
I take my jacket off and lower myself on my knees to pet Mimi as I coo, “Hi, pretty girl. Did you miss your mommy and daddy?” Purring, she lets me pick her up in my arms. I kiss the top of her head, stalling for time. I’m not sure why, but I feel like I have some explaining to do as if I’m guilty of a major crime.
Maybe you are.
No, I’m not.
No, I am not.
“Would you like another beer before going to bed?” Hesitation echoes in my voice. I let Mimi jump down and move to the kitchen looking for food.
I watch as Ben removes his pinstriped navy blue Brooks Brothers suit jacket, the outline of the thick muscles on his back visible through the white shirt. He turns to look at me as he starts to tug at his tie. Forcefully.
I love that tie.
I bought it for him.
Looking past me, he talks cooly to his reflection in the mirror behind me, “Not tonight. On our way here, I remembered some paperwork that needs my attention. I’m going to head to the office and,” he glances at me sideways, “Work.”
His words feel like a bucket full of ice-cold water thrown in my face. “Oh, okay. I just…you, um…okay. I guess. Should I wait up for you?” I look down at my watch and see that it’s only 10:00 p.m.
“No.”
Ben closes the space between us, wraps his hands around my shoulders and leans down to kiss me. I close my eyes and wait for his kiss. A kiss that I hope will clear the stiffness in the air. Seconds pass and nothing.
Opening my eyes, brown ones meet my stare. Slowly, I watch as Ben lets go of my shoulder, his hand making its way to my face. Cupping my cheek, his thumb softly rubs the spot where Arsen kissed me as if cleaning a stain off my skin.
Silently, we stare at each other as time stands still.
“Go to bed, Cathy,” he whispers huskily.
And he is gone.
I toss and turn for what seems like hours. Images of Ben and Arsen keep swirling in my head, disrupting me from falling asleep. I give up and turn on the lamp on my nightstand as my eyes land on the alarm clock.
1:11 a.m.
And no Ben.
My gaze lands on my cellphone, a crazy idea settling in my head. Before I lose courage, I reach for it and type a message.
C: What was that about?
I wait for ten minutes which turns into a half hour. Giving up the hope that he’ll text me back, I put my phone down on the nightstand when it buzzes.
A: Go fuck your husband, Dimples. I’m busy.
His message is like a stinging slap o
n the face. Perplexed by his answer and hurt by his words, I decide he doesn’t deserve an answering text.
I wonder who is keeping him busy? The answer shouldn’t matter to me, but it does.
When I lie back on my pillow, turning on my side and pulling the covers around my shoulders, I close my eyes tightly and try to fall asleep. I try to push Arsen’s message out of my mind.
It shouldn’t bother me. It shouldn’t hurt me. He is nothing to me.
But, it does.
I don’t know why,
And I don’t think I want to know why.
As I’m drifting into sweet oblivion, the last image to cross my mind is of a pair of saddened brown eyes.
Ben.
****
Hearing my alarm going off, I groan as I reach blindly to shut it off. In the early morning, even the most melodious tune can sound like an aggressive battle cry to start the day. I hate it. After I shut off the annoying sound, I lie flat on my back and stretch my arms and legs, shaking the sleep away. Turning to my left, I open my eyes, expecting to find a sleepy Ben snoozing.
He isn’t there.
His pillow looks fluffy and perfect, like he didn’t sleep on it. My skin prickling, I sit up and look around. Ben is nowhere to be seen. Even the bathroom door remains closed. He has a bad habit of always leaving the door open whenever he takes a shower, letting the steam escape purposefully. He says too much steam makes him sweat.
“Ben?” I ask, my voice groggy from sleep.
No answer.
Once I’m standing, the chilly air touches the skin that isn’t covered by my silky top and shorts, raising goosebumps all over my body. I rub my arms to warm myself up as I reach the bathroom door and open it slowly. Ben is not here.
I notice something stuck between the glass and the wooden frame on the mirror above my dresser. Biting my lip, I reach for the note and read it. My hand covers my mouth as I feel my breath catch in the back of my throat.
Hope you don’t mind driving yourself to work this morning. I forgot to tell you last night that I needed to go to the office earlier than usual this morning. Big lawsuit. Don’t expect me for dinner.
Ben.
He didn’t wake me up to say good-bye.
