Intentional

by MK Harkins

  I look over again at Sarah. Man, has she been persistent! She has made so many remarks about my needing release, my needing affection, how it isn’t natural to go without for so long. Could she be any more obvious? Part of me knows she’s right. I know I will never get Mattie back. I don’t even know where she is.

  I’ve hired an investigator who does some work for our office to look for Mattie, but so far he hasn’t come up with any results. He keeps telling me to be patient. Sarah notices my pensive mood. We’ve gotten together about once a week to brainstorm possible places Mattie could have moved to. It’s like she’s disappeared into thin air. I am starting to give up hope.

  Sarah comes over and starts massaging my neck. I place both my arms on the table and lean forward. I’m so damn tired. My neck starts to relax. I close my eyes. I whisper, “Mattie.”

  I feel the hands on my neck freeze. I feel Sarah’s warm breath on my neck. She says, “Let me help you forget.” I am so tempted. I am so lonely. I am lost as I turn to face Sarah.

  Chapter 20

  June

  Sarah

  I am wearing him down. I can feel it. He can’t resist much longer. Jeremy is a very virile man. He can’t be so priest-like forever. He’s going to cave, and I’m going to be there when it happens. I’m the only one he sees outside his office. He’s become a virtual hermit. Work, home, work, home. I have convinced him to get together at least once a week under the guise of trying to locate Mattie. I can’t believe he hasn’t figured it out yet. He’s a smart guy, but when it comes to Mattie, he’s downright dumb.

  Tonight, we’ve met at his house. I love coming to his place. It’s a mansion, and it’s gorgeous. He must have a cleaner, because the few times I’ve been here, it’s been immaculate. Either that or he spends all his time cleaning, which I seriously doubt.

  Jeremy seems to be in an especially down mood tonight. I know how to fix that. I look over at him; he’s sitting at the table, looking at me with those brown eyes. It makes all my efforts worth it. He’s worth all of the fake everything I have done since I’ve been ten. First I faked being Mattie’s friend. Now I’m putting on the show of a lifetime pretending I care where Mattie has gone. Good riddance. I’m an attorney, but maybe I should’ve been an actress. Oh well—same thing anyway.

  I get up from the table and approach Jeremy from behind. I carefully place my hands on his neck. I don’t want to apply too much pressure. I don’t want to scare him off. Slowly, I start to rub small circles around his shoulder muscles. I hear him sigh and lean forward, putting his head on the table. This is my make-or-break moment. He’s weak. He’s mine.

  I hear him whisper, “Mattie.”

  Shit. I stop. Think, think! I lean forward and whisper back, “Let me help you forget.” I feel his body momentarily slump. He rises, turns, and looks at me. I hold my breath. His eyes bore into me. He says, “Sarah.”

  Chapter 21

  June

  Mattie

  We sit in companionable silence as we watch You’ve Got Mail. For me, I think this is viewing number twenty-seven. Cade has never seen it. That’s unbelievable to me. At first he resists the “girlie” movie. I talk him into it, telling him has to see it—it’s a classic, after all. He’s a good sport. I peek over at him a few times. I know he won’t admit it, but I can tell he’s enjoying it. I love this movie, but my eyes start to feel heavy, right about the time Meg Ryan loses her book business. This part always makes me feel so sad. I put my head back on the couch; I just need to close my eyes for a few minutes.

  It’s dark. My neck hurts. Where am I? I realize that I’m sitting upright on the sofa with my neck bent to one side. I start to rub my shoulder. I look over; the nightlight illuminates a dark, slumped figure on the end of the couch. We’ve both fallen asleep! Cade looks more uncomfortable than I am, if that’s possible. His head is propped on the sofa arm, and one leg dangles over the side.

  I’m going to head up to the loft and sleep in one of the beds up there. I don’t want to leave him like this, though—he’ll be majorly sore tomorrow. I stand and stretch, moving my head back and forth to relieve the crick in my neck. I go into the bedroom to fetch a pillow. Now I just have to prop it under his head and move him down about two feet on the sofa. This should be interesting. Cade is around six feet two, maybe 190 pounds. I think I might have to wake him up a little, just enough to get him to move down the sofa. I put the pillow in place. I nudge Cade. Nothing. Man, he is out cold. Maybe if I pull on his feet—that’s worth a try. I pick up the dangling leg and place it on the sofa. Done! Now I just need him to move down. I pull on both legs. He doesn’t move an inch. I’m going to need to be more aggressive. I move back up to his shoulders to shake him again. He reaches up, grabs me, scoots down, and tucks me right in front of him, all in one quick move. He has me in the spoon position. His back is to the sofa; I’m in front. This is not going to happen. I struggle to get up.

  Cade tightens his grip and says, “Please, Mattie, please stay with me, just for a little bit?” Can I do this? It feels so comforting; I guess a few minutes will be okay. Once he determines that I’m not moving, I feel his grip relax. Why does he need this? Is he lonely also? I decide to stay, for just a little while. Cade drifts back off to sleep. I can hear his breathing even out. I drift back off to sleep, trying to figure out how I can feel so connected to someone after just one day. This is dangerous territory. I haven’t felt this way since, well, since Jeremy.

  Chapter 22

  June

  Jeremy

  “Sarah.” I start to walk toward her. I see her look at me with a gleam in her eyes. I need something, anything, to relieve this horrible loneliness. I’m feeling desperate. Sarah moves toward me slowly. It’s almost as if she knows that if she moves too fast, I’ll take a step back.

  Damn. What do I want? I want to forget. I want to forget how good it was. I want to forget that I had everything and that I let it slip through my fingers.

  We are almost touching. “I promise you, I can make you forget her.” I look back into her eyes. That’s when I know. She can’t hide it. Her eyes look feral—it’s as if she were a lion and I her catch.

  I close my eyes, shaking my head. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I just can’t do it.”

  She reaches over to me. “Don’t worry, Jeremy; you won’t have to do anything. I’ll do it all.” She starts to undo my tie.

  I step back. “I don’t think you understand. I can’t do any of this with you.”

  She steps forward, continuing to work on my tie, ignoring me. “Just let me help you to relax. You’ll feel so much better. I promise.” There she goes again with the promises. What the hell am I doing with her?

  “No!” I scream loudly at her.

  Sarah stops suddenly. She looks shocked, upset. “What do you mean, no?”

  I reply, “Just what I said, Sarah. I can’t do this. I should never have done anything with you before. I can’t even remember anything from that night. It was a mistake. It was the biggest mistake of my life!”

  Sarah has gone from pleading, trying to look sexy, to being pissed as hell. She starts pacing around the living room. “You can’t do this to me! I’m better than she is! Mattie doesn’t deserve you. She left you! Why do you keep hanging on? We deserve to be together! You can’t do this, not after everything I’ve been through. I won’t allow it!”

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Is she serious? After everything she’s been through? Has she come totally unhinged? “Listen, Sarah, we’re both tired. I think we should call it a night.”

  She starts shaking her head. “No, no, no!”

  I’m starting to get nervous. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave now.”

  I see the realization start to sink in. Her eyes glaze over. She starts to laugh. It isn’t a normal laugh. It’s loud, hyper, bordering on hysterical. I was right—she’s coming undone. I look around nervously. Where did I put my phone?

  She starts to catch her breath. “You know it was m
e, right?” I just stare at her, clueless. “I set it up. Everything! You are so stupid! We never had sex! You lost her for nothing. You did nothing. Ha! Now she is gone forever. You will never find her. Mattie will never forgive you anyway. I’ll never tell her the truth. I did the same thing with Evan. She believed me, not him. You remember what happened with him? She never forgave him. It was so easy. The same thing will happen to you. She’ll never look back.”

  I continue to look at Sarah in shock. She looks evil as she speaks. “She has taken everything from me my entire life! Now I have taken the most important thing in the world from her—you. Even if you won’t have me, I’ve still won!”

  I am sick. Oh my God! Now I am looking for my phone because I’m afraid I’m going to kill her, literally. I want to put my hands around her neck and squeeze until all the words stop. All of this pain and misery for nothing? I’ve been at the bottom of a pit of guilt, remorse, and misery all because of lies? I did nothing wrong? When the tears start, I don’t know if they are from relief or from an intense realization that all of this didn’t have to happen. It shouldn’t have happened.

  I look at Sarah. If she’s got any survival instinct at all, she will leave now. Right now. I start to move toward her. She looks at me defiantly. “You’re just a loser like all the rest. Cry all you want. It won’t change anything.”

  With those parting words, she storms out the door. I lean out and say, “By the way, you’re fired.” I close and lock the door. Did that just happen? I have to think. I can figure this out. Please, God, just don’t let it be too late.

  Sarah

  June

  Rage like I’ve never felt fills my body. Oh, I need—I need—to release this. I look around my house. I reach over—a vase. Perfect. I throw it across the room. It shatters against the oven. Okay, that feels better. It unleashes something in me.

  I can’t stop. I go from room to room, breaking everything in sight. It still isn’t enough. I need more destruction. I get a knife from the block and start ripping at the curtains. I need to keep going. I pound the knife into the walls, into the furniture—anywhere, everywhere. I can feel myself losing control. I hate, I hate, I hate repeats through my brain.

  After I’ve demolished every room, I sit down. I look around. My apartment mirrors my life. I have nothing. I don’t even have a job. Everything has been destroyed. It’s all Mattie’s fault. I make a decision. I’m going to find Mattie after all. I’m going to make sure her life stays ruined. A feeling of relief spreads through me. I’ll bring this knife with me—it’s been useful today.

  Chapter 23

  June

  Mattie

  I wake up again. We’re still in the same position. It’s dark, so I know it must be before 6:00 a.m. I haven’t slept much; I’ll need a few more hours. I carefully remove Cade’s arm from around me. I reach over and place one of the couch pillows in my place, hoping he can get some more rest too. I tiptoe upstairs and flop onto the closest bed. I feel comfortable as I drift off once again.

  I hear music in my dreams. It’s beautiful. I can’t make out the melody. Is it a harp? As I slowly come closer to consciousness, the gentle strumming of guitar strings brings me fully awake. It’s Cade. He’s playing.

  This is a great way to wake up! I stretch out and open my eyes. I love the sound of an acoustic guitar. I want him to keep playing, so I don’t move a muscle; I don’t want him to stop. I don’t recognize the song he’s playing. Perhaps it’s an original. I’ll have to ask him if he writes his own music.

  About a half hour later, the music stops. I hear Cade going into the kitchen; he’s fiddling with the coffeemaker. I scamper down the steps. I don’t want to miss this. “Good morning!” He looks up at me. His hair is wet and mussed; he’s already had a shower.

  He looks tired. “You’re a morning person.” It’s not a question.

  I laugh. “And that’s a disappointment because…”

  He shakes his head. “Not a disappointment. I just don’t do mornings very well.”

  I smile. “Well, let’s fix that. Have you figured out the coffee machine yet?”

  He backs off, splays his hands out. “It’s all yours. You would think with my engineering degree, I could figure this out.”

  “Ha, you have it wrong—it’s in the genes.” I know feminists around the world would groan at that comment, but it’s true. Women are simply better in the kitchen than men. Okay, maybe not all men, but most. Maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt, though. “Do you cook?”

  He looks at me, confused. “Cook what?”

  I ask, “Like, anything?”

  “I can cook eggs,” he says with pride.

  Okay, that’s a start. “Anything else?”

  “That, my dear Mattie, is the extent of my cooking expertise—scrambled eggs. I can also fry them, but my scrambled eggs are much better. How about you? Are you some sort of chef or something?” I think he’s starting to figure me out “or something.”

  I start looking in the refrigerator for something to eat. He comes behind me. “Oh, this is getting interesting! My day is looking up all of a sudden. Is there anything in there that you can cook up for me?” As I look at him, he has that hopeful-little-boy look again.

  I sigh. “Yes, Cade. Go sit down—I’ll put something together for you.” He practically skips back to the table. Typical bachelor.

  I make him eggs Benedict. It’s one of my favorite dishes, so I made sure to buy the ingredients on my way up to the cabin. I put the plate in front of him. He looks at it like it might move. “Try it—it has eggs.”

  He laughs and takes a little bite. He looks surprised. “Mmmm, that’s good.” He devours the food in about two minutes.

  “More?” I get him a second plate and listen to him as he groans in delight. I like that he enjoys food so much. Maybe I can cook for him sometimes—as a friend, of course. Only a friend.

  We spend the rest of the morning and early afternoon enjoying ourselves on the deck. It’s huge, with comfortable lawn chairs. The sun is out, and it gently warms our skin. The sound of the birds chirping lulls me into a contemplative mood. I look down at the expansive lawn that slopes gently down to the river. I can’t see any fish today. But I know they are there, just below the surface. The feeling of peace comes back to me. I embrace it.

  I’m able to get a few more questions by Cade without having to play the Questions game. Bourbon does not sound good at all today. I found out that he has a twenty-one-year-old sister attending Harvard and that his mom owns a large Montessori preschool on Mercer Island. His dad is an ER doctor at Overlake Hospital in Bellevue. “Are you all overachievers or what?” I ask.

  Cade laughs. “Nah. All of us just kind of went our own way. Followed our dreams and all that.”

  I’m really curious about Cade’s tattoos. They don’t seem to match his personality. I’ve always thought of people with tattoos as being rebellious. Cade doesn’t seem rebellious to me at all—his tattoos seem to be more of an artistic expression.

  I want to know more about the tattoos, but I want to get a couple more questions out of the way first. I blurt out, “How old are you, and do you have any piercings?”

  He answers, “Twenty-six” and stops. Is he being evasive?

  “Okay, what about the piercings?”

  He asks, “What do you think?”

  I don’t even know why I’m so curious about this. “Well, I don’t see any…”

  He gives me a wink and replies, “That doesn’t mean I don’t have any where you can’t see.”

  Uh-oh. Now I’m embarrassed. I’ve heard about body piercings in some very private places. Why did I ask that stupid question? I can feel my face start to turn red. He takes pity on me, laughing. “No, Mattie, I don’t have those types of piercings—what type of man do you think I am?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve only known you a day!”

  His face is serious. “It feels like so much longer, don’t you think?”

  �
�Yeah,” I nod. “It does.”

  I ask, “Can you tell me about your tattoos? Are they personal?”

  Cade looks over at me. “Yes, they are. But I’ll tell you a little bit about them. How about I give you one fact a week about each one? That way, you’ll be drawn back to me for more information.” He smiles as he says it, but I detect something in his eyes. It’s that vulnerability I saw yesterday. How can a handsome, smart, talented guy like him have any insecurities? He must have women throwing themselves at him all the time.

  “Okay, I’ll bite. Tell me about this one.” I point to the tattoo of a small swallow.

  “You’ll bite? Promise?” he jokes. I roll my eyes. “This one represents hope and achievement. I got it right before graduation. I was basically hoping for a job.”

  I laugh. “I know a lot of people who could benefit from that tip. It seemed to work for you. You have two jobs!”

  “Yeah, about that—would you like to come tomorrow to one of our shows? I’d love for you to meet all the guys and hear us play.”

  I don’t have to think long about this one. “Yes, that sounds like fun. I’ll ask Julianne and Sam if they can come also. We can make a night of it. I haven’t been out for months!”

  His face is excited. “It’s a date!”

  My face falls. I need to talk to Cade.

  He looks at me. “I said something wrong, didn’t I?”

  “No. You didn’t say anything wrong at all. I just need to make myself really clear. I think you’re great; I really like you a lot.”

  Cade cringes. He puts his hands over his face. “Not the friend talk! No, don’t do it to me!”

  This makes me laugh. “No, it’s not the friend talk. But it’s close. I don’t plan on dating. I don’t plan on having a relationship—maybe ever. I certainly won’t ever, ever fall in love again.”