The shower in our bathroom is double-sized with two large rain-style showerheads and multiple body-level nozzles. What starts as a joke about saving water and showering together turns into an afternoon of lovemaking.
By this point, I feel so comfortable with Adam that his touch and the feel of his body are as comforting as they are passionate. My experience prior to him was limited. He has enjoyed being my teacher. Now, I learn what turns him on, what drives him crazy, and what can be his undoing.
Ever my explorer, the first man, he unlocks secrets of my body I did not know existed. In his presence and under his eyes, I am all woman, the apex of everything he desires. Confidence can be a fluid thing.
The next morning, Adam posts a couple of pictures from our day before to Twitter. Almost instantly, one receives a reply. That’s not uncommon. He has friends and followers remarking on the pictures he posts all the time. However, this virtual friend, a Russian model named Katya, happens to also be in Beijing and would love to hook up—her words, not mine.
We’re getting ready to head out the door to go visit the Great Wall, so he direct messages her to meet him—his words, not mine—at the rooftop restaurant of the hotel that night.
When he isn’t looking, I sneak a peek at her profile pic. She’s tall, has blonde hair down to her ass, and an amazing body. In a word, she’s gorgeous.
These ugly seeds of doubt began to worm their way into my head. I’m no longer this unstoppable love goddess. I’m now short, pale, gangly, and unstylish. I pout at my reflection in the mirror, wishing my hair were longer or my cheekbones were more pronounced.
He comes up beside me to brush his teeth. He’s in a good mood, excited about meeting a virtual friend in real life. I grab my toothbrush and put on my best happy face, my mind a chaos of what-ifs. I know Adam doesn’t want a relationship. It was the first thing he said to me the night of our first kiss. What if he’s attracted to her?
I go to the wooden box that holds Ally’s ashes and begin carefully pouring some into the smaller plastic box that fits in my cross-body bag. I feel kind of ashamed, like I’m missing the bigger picture. I need to remain focused on what this trip is about, and as much fun as Adam is, I need to make sure I don’t lose myself in him. He’s temporary. This Eden we’ve created will end the day the trip does, if not sooner.
I turn. I didn’t realize he was watching me.
“Can I look?” he asks, motioning toward the still open box. “I’ve never seen…” His voice trails off.
“Of course,” I reply.
He walks over slowly, almost nervous to disturb the air. He doesn’t pick up the box. He just peers into it and tilts it, so some of the ashes inside shift.
“It’s strange to think this is what’s left of what once was…” I pause, gently pressing the lid shut. “My best friend.”
He puts his arm around my shoulders, and he pulls me to him and holds me.
I don’t cry every time I think about her, like I did in the beginning. It doesn’t mean that I miss her any less now than I did then. It’s just that the shock of the pain has dulled over time.
It was the worst when things were brand new with Adam. She would have been the person I confided in. I suppose there’s still my mom, but that’s different. It hurts that I won’t get to tell Ally all about him.
Chapter 18
Because of all the walking we did the day before, we decide against walking over to the train station to the Great Wall even though our guidebook says it’s only a twenty-minute walk. Even after all of the planning we did, it takes us twice as long as we expect to actually get onto the wall. A train ride, a bus ride, a short walk that takes forever because of how crowded it is. The ticket line to get to the wall, then the choice between waiting and paying for the cable car ride up or taking the steps.
Even though there’s a wait for the cable car, I talk Adam into skipping the steps. I’m already done with the wall, and I haven’t even stepped one foot onto it.
“Are we there yet?” There’s no withholding the whine from my tone.
The nonstop traveling is taking its toll on me. We should have scheduled more down days to recover. Our assumption that we could rest on the long flights was foolish. It’s impossible to get comfortable in the seats, and even with headphones on, there’s always some sort of distraction to keep us from really sleeping.
He takes a deep breath, like he’s willing himself to be calm with me. “I know it has been an ordeal getting here, but once we get in the cable car, our next stop will be the wall.”
I feel awful for annoying Adam. I do. It’s just that the whole process of getting to where we’re at that moment sucks, and I’m not handling it as well as he is.
We’re visiting the Badaling area of the wall because it’s the closest to Beijing. That’s probably the same reason everyone else is. Once we’re on the wall, to give each other some space, Adam goes to one side, and I go to the other. My annoyance evaporates with minutes of actually being on the wall.
I find Adam, and we start walking away from the crowds. Thank God we’re both wearing sneakers with good traction. The pathway of the wall isn’t always level. There are plenty of stairs, some steeper than others, but the slick spots are in these smooth pitched inclines. It rains almost every afternoon in the summer, and the stones aren’t always dried out from the day before. I pity anyone around us in flip-flops.
It takes some time and more stairs than I ever want to climb, but we find ourselves almost alone on the Great Wall of China. Our expressions mirror each other’s, like, Holy shit, this is really cool.
Adam actually smiles. He fists the front of my T-shirt and pulls me to him, planting his lips on mine. It’s excitement, enthusiasm, and pure joy in sharing this experience together. We break our kiss and look in either direction to see this never-ending wall, this wonder of the world.
Sobering up a bit, Adam tucks a strand of my wind-tussled hair behind my ear. “Would you like to be alone when you…” He lets the shrug of his shoulder finish his question.
He wants to give me space to be with Ally. I rest my hands on his shoulders, lifting up onto my toes to dust my lips across his, before nodding. He takes his camera and goes to take pictures, giving me some time to myself.
I look out over the greenery, the sloping mountainside full of dips and valleys, and I hold the small plastic box. I consciously let my mind fill itself with Ally. I have a picture show ready on demand. Her kind eyes, her smile, even how she kind of always smelled like vanilla.
With each stop, as I leave a piece of her behind, the pretty wooden box she rests in gets lighter. With each stop, I am leaving a piece of myself with her in my grief. I pause my internal reflection as a small group passes me.
Life is like that. One moment, you can feel like the only person in the world, and the next, you’re suddenly within a sea of people.
As quickly as they come, they continue on, and I’m alone again. This isn’t like the other times where I placed her ashes on the ground. This time, I reach my arm out as far as I can through one of the openings in the wall, and I just let her go.
She doesn’t just crash down to the ground far, far below. The wind catches her, and for a brief moment, she seems suspended in midair before she’s gone. She will become part of this place. The rain will come later in the day to dissolve her into the earth.
It gives me peace, knowing that would have made her happy. I can imagine her thinking of all the schoolchildren who come here on field trips. It’s a place of wonder and possibilities.
Adam stands a ways off, leaning against the opening of a watchtower. I motion for him to come over to me, and he does.
He drapes his arm around my shoulders and kisses the side of my head, which is strangely comforting. “You okay?”
I nod, slipping my hand into his. We stay in that spot a few more moments. Adam takes a picture of a bird in flight, and then suddenly, an entire flock takes flight before us. If he hadn’t already had his camera ready,
he would have missed it.
Once they’re out of sight, he turns to look at me, eyes wide. “Whoa.”
I laugh. “That was awesome.”
He peers down at his camera, scratching the back of his head in almost disbelief.
We slowly make our way back down to the cable car. He wisely bought some snacks from the hotel gift shop before we left that morning. We eat as we sit on a bench, waiting for the train to take us back to Beijing. Even though I wore comfortable shoes, my feet throb from the two hours we spent walking the wall.
It starts raining right after we board. On the train, I sleep, sagging with my head on Adam’s shoulder. He shakes me awake when we reach our stop, and then he pulls me back against him for the cab ride back to the hotel.
He laughs as I collapse onto our bed once we’re back at the hotel. I can’t help it. My legs tremble like Jell-O. After stepping out of his sneakers and tugging mine off of me, he joins me.
We still have to meet Katya for dinner. His phone wakes us a couple of hours later. I groan as he reaches over me to silence it. When he chuckles, I peer at him through a curtain of my hair.
“What?” I mumble, not awake enough to fully form my consonants.
“You”—he pushes my hair to the side—”are not a morning person.”
“It’s not morning,” I argue, covering my face with a pillow.
The weight on the bed shifts, and he’s straddling me. I have another moment of blissful darkness before he lifts the pillow off of my head.
“We still need to get ready for dinner. Want to share a shower?” He raises one brow, his hands slipping under my shirt.
“Won’t we be late?” I ask, not really caring and feeling more awake.
In the shower, he moves with urgency, fully focused on our mutual release. I’m pliable and mold into the object of his desire. I can see it burning in his eyes, his want for me. I’m a person I don’t know when I’m in his arms. I’m confident and aggressive. I need to learn to hold on to some of that outside of him.
Despite our rushed lovemaking, we’re still late for dinner. I was hoping I could devote an extra five minutes to making myself look presentable. As usual, I’m wearing a wrinkled dress, and I finger comb my damp hair in the elevator.
Before the doors open, Adam asks a question that somehow sucks any confidence I gained from me. “Are you sure you want to come?”
My mouth drops before I can think. I close my mouth. “Do you not want me to come?”
He hesitates, watching the doors open. Neither of us moves.
“I don’t want you to feel bored.”
I tilt my head at him, hearing the doors close. “Why would I be bored?”
“Never mind,” he murmurs, pressing the button for the roof again.
When we walk out, he doesn’t reach for my hand. I’ve become accustomed to him doing it, so it stings when he doesn’t. He makes a beeline for the bar as I follow three steps behind, trying to keep up. It reminds me of him losing me in the airport on our first day together.
Next thing I know, he’s shaking her hand, introducing her to the void he assumes is me as I walk up. His eyes widen briefly as I extend my hand to her and introduce myself. Has he realized what he’s done? She takes her drink off the bar top and carries it with her as we’re seated. Her English is great, her accent charming.
I watch as they laugh over inside jokes having to do with Twitter conversations and hashtags. I have no idea what they’re talking about.
I use my lack of involvement in the conversation to study her. She has long, almost white blonde hair. It’s pulled back in a long ponytail and swung over one shoulder, hanging down to cover her breast. I wonder if it’s all her own hair or if she has extensions. Before my hair envy overpowers me, I watch her face, her expressions, as she speaks to Adam.
She has an easy smile. I’m relieved that Adam, while seemingly happy, does not smile back. You have to earn those smiles. She has toothpaste commercial–ready teeth. I absentmindedly run my tongue across mine, wondering if they’re as white as hers.
Her complexion is probably naturally fair, like mine, but she wears a healthy golden tan. She also wears a white sleeveless sheath dress. It sets off her tan and broadcasts the fact that she probably didn’t dribble her food and is brave enough to wear white while traveling.
I don’t want to like her. I want her to be an annoying idiot who Adam cannot be mentally attracted to.
But she’s lovely, intelligent, engagingly animated, as she shares her travel stories with us. Even when Adam excuses himself from our table and we’re alone together, she’s warm and seems genuinely interested in learning about me. Her worldliness picks at my internal insecurities. She’s been places. Sure, I have as well, but she’s gone to them by herself. She has a career and is self-sufficient.
Her success amplifies my inadequacies in my mind. This trip is supposed to be a way for me to gain my independence, maybe even allow me to decide what I want to do with my life.
Katya is working on her master’s degree in physiology with plans to pursue her doctorate. She’s smart, successful, beautiful, and interesting.
After our meals are cleared, I start to wonder if I’m a third wheel. I excuse myself. I’m nothing but polite, telling her how nice it was to meet her.
Leaning into Adam, I ask for our room key.
As he passes it to me, I tell him, “Just knock, and I’ll—”
He stops me. “You don’t have to. I brought both room keys just in case.”
In case? My eyes flick to his, but he’s already turned his back to her.
I finally admit to myself that I was testing him to see if he would come back with me. He failed. I say my good-byes and pout the whole way back to our room. We’re leaving China tomorrow and taking a red-eye flight to Australia.
Our trip will be ending soon, and here I am, falling for him. I need to distance myself from him, from what we’re doing, before I get hurt any more than I already am.
I have the hardest time falling asleep. I’m used to his presence, his scent, and his arms around me. I finally nod off a couple of hours later.
I awake briefly to his gentle snore, his arm draped over me, before slipping back under. We talked about trying to see the Summer Palace today. His late night and forgetting to set the alarm allows us a lazy morning instead.
I bite my tongue, wanting to ask what time he got in, curious at what happened after I left last night. My jealousy embarrasses me. This, us, is temporary. How together we seemed, our physical camaraderie, was just a side effect of traveling together.
This morning, when he reaches for me, I pull away.
He sits up. “Everything okay?”
I nod, a nonverbal lie, and look away.
“Come here.”
He’s on to me.
I inch closer to him but stay just out of his grasp. I watch his fingers flex, knowing he wants to touch me. I still want him to. I’m trying to be smart about this. We’ve already gone too far. I only want to protect myself.
“Just tell me.” He shifts closer to me.
I can’t meet his eyes, so I stare at my hands instead. “I just think maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
“Aubrey, look at me.” He sounds confused.
My eyes flick to his, and my mouth is suddenly dry. “We’re both going to be going our separate ways soon. It seems smart to stop now before either of us gets attached. You can be with other people.” I pause. “Like Katya.”
He drops his head to rest on his fist, his elbow on his knee, and he just looks at me, like he is trying to figure me out. “What if I don’t want to stop? Katya is only a friend.”
“But you stayed out with her last night. This”—I motion to the empty void between us—”is only delaying the inevitable,” I argue weakly, wondering what I am to him. I don’t want to stop either.
He moves, pinning me to the mattress. “Nothing happened with her. Don’t you know I only have eyes for you?” He waggles his bro
ws at me. “And we shouldn’t waste the time we have together.”
“But I’m scared I’ll get hurt,” I admit, losing myself in his gray eyes.
They darken. “I won’t hurt you.”
I lift my lips to his in surrender, thinking that he doesn’t even know he already has.
Afterward, we make our way to the double shower. Just as I have grown so used to falling asleep with him, I start to wonder if I can shower alone again without missing him. He washes me, his soapy hands gliding over every inch of me. He lets me wash his hair. His hands are on my hips as I face him, hands in his hair.
The first time I saw him, I thought he looked perfect. He isn’t though. His ears stick out a bit, and he has a wrinkle between his eyebrows from how often they come together. He has a faint farmer’s tan, and he doesn’t smile enough. He can be bossy and annoying. He likes doing things his way to a fault, but he’s also protective and gentle, even when he’s being rough.
He doesn’t let me pull away when I try, and I’m in love with him.
***
We have time to kill between our checkout and needing to be at the airport. We go to the airport and check in, just so we won’t have to carry our suitcases around with us, and then we have lunch. There are some half-day tours we think about trying but end up just staying at the airport.
There are five flights leaving from our gate before ours. We find a couple of seats away from the blast of the air conditioning vent and hang out. Adam explores a gift shop at one point while I read. I’m not paying attention and jump when he reaches for my hand. He’s taken over finding charms for my bracelet. Today, he gives me two.
“I wasn’t sure which you would like more,” he says, handing me a small pagoda and a watchtower.
“I love them both,” I say truthfully, holding my hand out to him to attach them to my bracelet.
He dips his mouth, dropping a kiss to the inside of my wrist, before letting my hand go.
His sweet gesture unlocks my tongue. “Will you miss me when I’m gone?”
He feigns confusion. “Going somewhere?”
Silk Page 155
