by Jorja Tabu
Jordan wasn’t there.
From the looks of things, he hadn’t been there since their time together. She felt the white hot flash of shame in her belly and walked out without allowing herself to dwell any longer.
It had all been a lie.
He’d fucked her, after all.
She sat down in the kitchen, her head in her hands; the house was empty and silent around her. She’d sent all of the paintings and sculptures and everything else that stank of her broken marriage to Sarah’s--everything except the water statue in the garden. Randall had sent a note with the divorce papers, and Lena was grateful he hadn’t suddenly become vindictive as soon as they’d parted. Instead, his better self seemed to be emerging. At least that had gone her way.
Maybe he’d needed this break just as badly as she had, after all. Maybe the cage suffers just as much as whatever is locked inside.
She ran her fingers through her hair. That was exactly the kind of nonsense a poet would think. This whole thing was a mistake--she’d abandoned her only great work: her marriage. And she’d done it for a boy-man. What the fuck was she thinking?
Just as suddenly, her mind reeled back. That was exactly the kind of nonsense a poet would think.
She was a poet.
This wasn’t a mistake. This was healing. And healing is messy--wounds are messy, slippery with blood, with good intentions, with sacrifice. Healing takes guts. Lena pulled herself up straight and made herself stop crying.
This is what you really wanted, she told herself. To be alone with your thoughts, no matter how crazy and messy and inconvenient. To live a free life.
With him, she countered, remembering Jordan’s golden eyes as vividly as if he sat at the table across from her.
“With yourself,” Lena said out loud. Defiantly, she stood up and strode to the bedroom.
Where was that kid’s number? The one from the dinner party? There was one thing about her that wouldn’t change--she needed to feel someone else’s body close to hers. She needed to forget Jordan. She just needed to remind herself what freedom brought--sexy undergrads who didn’t trick you into thinking about love when all they wanted was pussy.
That’s not what happened, she admonished herself, but it only hardened her resolve when she noticed how much her heart hurt.
And none of it because of Randall. All because of that goddamn kid.
She picked out her most scandalous thong panties and pulled them on before turning in front of the mirror. Yep, still the same body; at least that hadn’t been ruined by the past. The bedroom windows, still completely bare from Randall’s perverted reign, remained open and looked back at her reflection like so many judging eyes. So many mistakes.
What’s another going to hurt? She rifled through her purse and found his number...That’s right. Nathan.
Nathan with the big blue eyes and the overwhelming desire to fuck his neighbor’s wife. Sounds perfect.
He picked up on the third ring.
“Come over,” she said, her voice shaky but low. She could tell he was excited by how quickly he hung up. Lena pulled a tight black camisole over her head and a pair of skinny jeans. Something tugged at her...something insistent. Something about a pair of golden eyes, and how many tears there were in the ocean.
But she shrugged it off when she heard the doorbell ring.
Nathan wasn’t just prompt; he came bearing a bottle of wine and a charming smile. Something about the way he walked through the door made her want to tell him to walk right back out--something in his swagger, almost as if he’d known all along that she would call, reminded her too much of Randall--but she didn’t. Instead, she invited him into the kitchen and found two wine glasses while he uncorked the wine. “Thanks for coming over so fast,” she said, taking her seat.
He picked his up to move it closer to hers. “Thanks for calling.” He looked her over, letting his eyes dwell on her low cut camisole; she suddenly wished she’d worn a bra. Too late. “I was hoping you would--a lot sooner, too.” He looked around. “This place looks really different. Where’s Randall?”
“We’re separated,” Lena said softly, and finished her glass in one gulp before refilling it. Nathan watched her with hooded eyes.
“That bad, huh?” He didn’t mention the blonde; of course he wouldn’t, while Jordan of course would. Jordan would’ve wanted to do the right thing, without knowing what it was in such an impossible situation. Nathan wouldn’t want to ruin his chances of getting laid by bumming her out.
“Randy and I are probably better than we’ve been in a decade,” Lena said slowly, watching Nathan refill her glass.
“That’s nice to hear,” he said, pushing it back towards her. “What do you think of the wine?”
“It’s fantastic,” she said, sipping slowly this time. Nathan had yet to touch his own, but he smiled. Again, something about it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, but she brushed the misgiving away.
She was sure it had more to do with the fissures in her heart than the casual way he kept refilling her glass, anyway.
“Glad you like it,” he murmured. “I have to be honest, though...I wasn’t expecting to spend tonight just talking.”
“Oh really?” She smiled at him over the lip of her glass, and he smiled back and reached over to tip it up, forcing her to take another drink.
“No,” he said. “When you’re ready...I wanted to pick up where we left off?” He still hadn’t taken a single sip; he licked his lips and slid his fingertip along the edge of his glass.
“Hmmm...Care to remind me where, exactly, we were?” She looked into his eyes; they were a deep, sparkling blue. Not gold. She blinked and finished the rest of her glass.
He filled it again, grinning. “Well, you had one more glass of wine, I believe--” they laughed--”and I put my hand here...” He smoothly reached across the table and laid his fingers on her arm. They were damp from playing with the wineglass. “And then I think you said something like...Have you ever been with an older woman?”
She almost snorted, she laughed so hard. He grinned back at her, and refilled her glass yet again, his eyes hungry. Something told her she should slow down, but she pushed the thought away. “Well, have you?”
“Never one as sexy as you,” he said without missing a beat. Just as smoothly, his chair was next to hers in the blink of an eye. It took Lena a second to register his movement, and that was when she pushed her glass away.
“I’m very flattered,” she said softly. “But it looks like I’ve had too much to drink yet again.” His hand stayed on her arm, slowly sliding up to her shoulder. “I’m afraid I’d disappoint you, Nathan, after all this build-up, anyway. I’m just like any other woman, young or old, I think.”
“No,” he said, his voice husky beside her ear. “I don’t think so.” His fingers swept up to her collarbone and pulled her hair away from her shoulder. She felt his other hand at her waist, and froze. “I know you’re not like other women.”
“How?” She wanted to turn her head away, but she liked the way his hand felt. His fingertips were warm.
“I’ve seen you. I’ve seen how much you love to fuck,” he said, and nipped her neck. “I know your body well, and I know how you like it.”
“How?” She whipped her head around to look at him, pulling her arm back.
“I thought you were going to call me, but you didn’t. So I started walking over from our house, to yours...You don’t have any curtains in the bedroom? Why?”
She stared back at him. “Randall. I keep meaning to put some up...”
“I saw you. With him. More than once, really, but the last time he really gave it to you, didn’t he?” Suddenly, Nathan jerked her head back. “I saw him pounding into you, fucking you so hard. And I saw you taking it.” He bit her throat again, a bit harder.
“He loved me,” Lena said, standing up abruptly and knocking Nathan away. “It’s different, in reality, from what you saw.” Adrenaline mixed with alcohol in her blood.<
br />
“Then show me how it’s different,” Nathan said, spinning around to face her. After a miniscule pause he stepped quickly towards her, and Lena, feeling frightened, walked backwards, stumbling into the hallway towards her bedroom. “Don’t be a tease, Lena--that’s why I wanted to fuck you in the first place. You’re not some cocktease like these little co-ed sluts that cry about getting some dick. I saw you. I know you love it.”
“I love it when I want it,” Lena said, turning the light on in her bedroom. Her feet were unsteady beneath her--too much wine, much too fast. “And I don’t want it right now, Nathan, and certainly not the way you think I do.”
“Yeah right,” he said, his face still cocky. “This is the game, huh? Wait--” He reached out and roughly snapped the strap of her shirt. “That’s what I’m supposed to do, right?”
“No!” Lena shoved him. “No, Nathan, I don’t want to do this!”
“Get away from her.” The voice came from the hallway, behind Nathan. A voice she had never expected to hear again.
Lena gasped as Nathan turned around, both of them staring at the shadows in the hallway. “If she says she doesn’t want to do this, it’s not going to happen.” There was no real anger in his voice, just a solidness, a certainty; Jordan was large enough so that he didn’t worry, Lena supposed, about physical threats the way other people might. Everything felt as though the world were still, as if his quiet, calm voice had the power to stop the movement of the earth.
“What are you even doing in her house?” Nathan looked back at Lena indignantly. “What are you after, some kind of three-way? Did you call him too?”
“No, Nathan, I did not, and I shouldn’t have called you to begin with.”
“But you did. So who’s this fucking guy?”
“I’m her tenant,” Jordan said coldly, and moved into the room so that his size became more evident. Upon realizing he was overmatched, Nathan moved away from Lena.
“The fucking apartment out back?” He looked back towards Lena with a sneer. “You really are a slut, aren’t you?”
“Get out, Nathan!” Lena screamed, pushing him towards the hall. “Get out, and never come back!”
“Fuck you, whore,” he spat, and a moment later she heard the front door slam, the only noise louder than her sobs. She slumped on the bed; Jordan remained by the hallway, only half in the light.
“Where have you been?” She smeared her tears away with her fist, then realized she was exposed and hid her breast. “Why did you leave?”
“I saw you with your husband,” Jordan said quietly, but she could hear the hard edge of disappointment and sadness in his words. “I came out of the garden house and crossed the yard to leave, and I saw you, through the windows.”
The same escapade Nathan had seen that convinced him she loved it rough. Shame clenched in her chest. “How much did you see?”
“I saw him throw some things across the room, and I was afraid he was going to hurt you. So I moved closer, prepared to break one of these windows to help...And instead, I saw...” His voice broke, but he took another step towards her, out of the shadows. “Instead I saw you tease him, and then I saw him...Fuck you. I saw you like it.”
“Jordan,” Lena said--her mouth opened but no words were ready to explain the complexity of the situation. She snapped it shut, then tried again. “Jordan, please--”
“Fuck me and see, you said.” Jordan’s cheek glimmered with a wayward tear before he angrily wiped it away. “That’s what I heard you tell him.”
“I did,” she whispered, “but it’s so much more complicated than that--”
“You took my virginity just hours before that.” His tone didn’t rise; his voice didn’t shake. It was much worse than Randall’s yelling, or Nathan’s slurs. “You wept in my arms and I told you...I believed...that God had made my life so lonely because I was meant to be with you.”
“Jordan, please understand...I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never hurt you, if it could be helped at all.” She heard a pleading in her voice she’d never needed with Randall--a defensive, frightened sound--and it scared her. “Jordan, let me--”
“Maybe I’m the naive one, here,” Jordan said, the tears in his voice getting lost in his anger, “but tell me the truth: why did you call that guy here tonight?”
Taken aback, Lena fought for an answer. She finally stood up, and felt the wine in her blood again. “Let’s take one thing at a time,” she said, putting her hands out to steady her balance. He didn’t move. “Let’s talk about that first night.”
“I don’t think I need you to explain what happened that night,” Jordan said darkly. “I was there for myself.”
“Yes,” she said, and took a deep breath, “but you’re not me.”
“Just the same, Lena--” Jordan’s steady tone terrified her.
“Jordan, just wait!” She felt the wave of tears coming and ignored it, letting them fall while she spoke. “This isn’t about either of them--this is about me. Me. And how I felt when you were inside of me.” He stared at her, and the angle of his head finally allowed her to see his beautiful eyes. She held them as she spoke with her own, willing her sincerity to make him listen to her. “My husband, whom I have loved for almost two decades, didn’t listen to me. He didn’t care about what I wanted--he mostly wanted me to be an accessory to his own life. Do you understand that? And his version of an ‘open marriage,’ which can mean almost anything, was for me to get drunk with his little girlfriends. When I finally, after years and years and years, found someone I wanted--a moment I wanted, an experience I wanted--I asked him, and he said no.” She stared at Jordan, waiting for him to understand.
“He knew?” Jordan blinked. “He knew about...What...I don’t understand...”
“I asked him if I could be with you. And when I asked him that, the only reference I had was what he does with his girlfriends. I basically said, can I fuck around with the kid we rented the garden house to?” Jordan blanched at the hard words, his mouth tight. “And he said no. He said he’d find me someone--because that was our whole marriage. I found what I wanted, I asked, he said no in the most practical, professional way. You were too young. You were a tenant, it could get messy. You were probably a virgin.” She gulped. “But I didn’t care--I wanted you. I wanted you so bad, because something about you...” Her voice trailed off. “Because something about you stitches up everything inside of me that has broken, that’s falling apart. Because you heal me. Because you’re so beautiful it’s almost...Unreal.” She stared into his eyes. “I didn’t want to fuck around with you, Jordan. I wanted to fall in love. You made me want to fall in love.”
They were quiet for a long minute. “But you...You made love to me, and then...” Jordan choked up, and Lena stopped herself from walking towards him, her arms out in comfort.
“I came back to my house. To my husband. And I told him I was going to leave him.”
“But why--”
“Because he didn’t believe me!” Lena shook with anger at herself, her treacherous body and its need. “What bonded us, after all this time, was sex.” She sat down on the bed, then looked up at him. “You know it--you saw us together, the first time. I love to fuck, Jordan. I’m picky about who and why and where...But I loved Randall for a long time, and he knew my body well. I knew he’d need to be inside of me to see that I’d really left him--that the only thing still tying us together was gone. And when he was fucking me, he felt it. He knew. And he let me leave.”
Jordan stared at her. She wiped the sweat off of her brow and stood up, taking another deep breath before walking towards the hallway for some water. She had to clear her head. She was saying too much.
No.
She didn’t need to hide herself from him. He wasn’t Randall, he wouldn’t throw away what she said.
It might cost her his golden eyes, his beauty, his calm...But he had the right to choose.
This monologue raged in her as she approached the hallway, but before she cou
ld enter it Jordan stepped in front of her, his chest heaving. “Then why this other guy?” The hurt wasn’t gone from his voice, but it was buried under the smooth current of calm. She sensed, rather than heard it.
“Because...Because you were gone, I was desperately lonely, and I like to fuck.” She stared up at him. “Jordan, I don’t have an answer to that you’re going to like.”
“So you just fuck anybody?” Again the rumble of a deep undercurrent in his voice. She stared at him.
“No,” Lena growled. “No, I absolutely will not fuck just anybody.” She turned completely towards him and looked full into his face. “I called that jackass here tonight because before I met you I didn’t know what it was like to have someone bury themselves in your soul, and when you left I had nothing. Nothing but a big empty house. So I called up someone I knew would make me feel a little less empty.”
