by Michelle Lee
“Don’t,” he interrupts. “Don’t do this.” His voice cracks as a tear falls.
“Dash…”
“I’ll hold a press conference, take ads out, whatever it takes. The whole world will know you’re my girlfriend, that I love you. I should have never…”
“What about…”
“Fuck Roland. I don’t fucking care anymore. It’s not fair to you, us, it never was, but like a dick I went along with it, Jules. I’m sorry, so fucking sorry.”
“Dash, even so, there will always be another Nadia, and I just… I just…” The dam breaks, “I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. Dash, I’m sorry.”
“No. No. No. No. Don’t this, Jules, please, don’t do this.”
Tears leave their mark on both of us.
“Dash, I need… time, just give me time. I can’t be…”
He falls at my feet, clutches his arms around my waist and buries his face in my stomach. His body shivers and shakes as he gently weeps. “Please, Jules, please. I can’t…” Dash takes a deep, shuddering breath, clenches and unclenches his hands, gripping my waist before he continues. “I can’t imagine my life without you. I can’t live without my soul.” He peers up at me, his face stained with tears, and mine fall forward.
I simply shake my head. “I can’t. I need time. Just give me time,” I say in between sobs.
Dash stands, his legs shaky. His eyes close tight for a second and then open, understanding flashing in them. He simply nods and turns to leave. But before he does, he spins around in a flash, his strong hands cupping my face. He leans in and ever so slightly his lips touch mine. It’s too much, too much. It needs to be like he never existed. I try to pull out of his embrace, but he holds me still, captive. He presses his lips further against mine and gently, sweetly kisses me. My body starts to shake uncontrollably and he pulls away.
“Please,” he murmurs, his forehead resting against mine.
I simply shake my head. Words are my enemy right now. My chest cracks open, and all I have spills forth as I watch him walk away.
He opens the door and turns to me before it closes. “Time. I’ll give what you need. I’ll give you anything. I love you, Jules, always.”
I nod.
And then he’s gone.
I go to the door and lift my shaky hand to lock it.
“I love you… always.”
Before I get to my bedroom, I fall apart.
I TRIED TO sleep on the plane, but it’s impossible. I haven’t been sleeping lately. I haven’t been sleeping well since Dash walked out of my apartment two weeks ago. The purplish bruises under my eyes staring back at me in the poorly lit airplane bathroom indicate that. I splash some water on my face and head back to my seat.
It’s been a couple of weeks since I said goodbye. It’s been a couple of weeks since my whole world fell apart. It’s been a couple of weeks, and I’m barely hanging on. I feel like I’m running on empty.
Several days after Dash walked out my door and I was able to compose myself, I called Hank and told him I would like to take the South Beach assignment. He was a little apprehensive at first, but after a little convincing, he conceded. He knew I had ulterior motives. I really needed this. I needed to get away. Being in Seattle, there were too many reminders of him. Too many things screaming “Dash,” and I couldn’t handle it anymore.
Since the benefit, the local news and papers had been plastered with stories about Dash and the boys. It seemed as though every time I turned on the television, there he was. Those blue eyes staring back at me, that crooked smile, everything that made Dash, Dash, ripped me open and left me raw over and over again. I noticed he was never in the interview with Vic and Lance. They always made some excuse like he was in the studio or was holed up in his room writing for the new album. I wanted to think it was because he was feeling like I was, but there was that voice that kept saying it was impossible that he was feeling what I was feeling. It kept saying he’s moved on, just like Blake and Roland said he would. All I knew was I needed a distraction, I needed time, I needed to be alone, and I hoped being in the sun and sand of South Beach, I could find that. Tracy and Val wanted to come along. In fact, they begged me—insisted. It took some arm twisting, an ending-our-friendship threat, which they knew was just ridiculous, and promises of phone calls every day on my part, when they finally acquiesced.
My girls were great. They came over once they heard and just let me cry and cry until I didn’t have anything left, and then let me cry some more. I don’t think I could have gotten through those first few days without them. Of course, they didn’t exactly understand why I did what I did. Shit, at times I was second guessing myself. But, in the end, I knew I needed to let him go. As hard and painful as it was, I had to. My heart was still playing catch-up with my head.
Little did I know that traveling through the airport would be a feat in itself. Every newsstand I walked by, he was there. Every monitor, he was there. In fact, at one time I thought I saw him, but I knew my mind was playing tricks on me. I even heard his voice every once in a while. I definitely needed to get away.
I find my seat, put my earbuds back in, and hit play on my iPod. Before I have a chance to react, Harry Connick Jr. is singing “It had to be you…” and the tears slowly build in my eyes, splashing down my cheeks. I fear there is no escape. I rip the buds from my ears and try to sleep before my flight lands. The hum of the plane’s engines slowly lulls me to sleep, and for the first time I don’t dream of blue—much.
THE FLORIDA HUMIDITY hits me full force as I step through the doors leaving the airport. I take a deep breath and immediately feel sweat streaming down my back. I take my hair-tie bracelet off and whip my hair up into a ponytail as I wait for a cab to pull up and take me to my hotel. Tracy made me pack my bathing suit, and right now, I silently thank her because once I settle into my room, I’m going to take a dip in the pool and free myself from the humid slickness that is on my skin. A cab pulls up, I put my bags in the trunk, and I tell the driver to take me to the Fountainebleau. I told Hank it wasn’t necessary, that a Holiday Inn would be just fine, but he insisted, saying his girl needed to be well taken care of and pampered. Hank was always like a father to me, and I guess he understood what his girl was going through. I wore my heartache like a second skin. He saw it when I went to the office to pick up a few things.
He wasn’t my boss in that moment. He was the dad I needed, the dad who gave me a shoulder to cry on since my real dad wasn’t there to comfort me. Hank called me into his office and told me to sit on the couch. He offered me a glass of water as the tears slowly found their way back into my eyes. He just mentioned Dash’s name, and I lost it. Once my tears subsided, Hank wisely said, “Eventually, what will be will be, and I have a feeling you two will find your way back to each other. I’ve never seen two people more in love, except for maybe myself and Claire. Granted, you both have issues you need to work through, especially you, young lady, but don’t let issues define your relationship. You do that.” I still carry his words in my heart, hoping one day they will ring true.
The art deco architecture of Miami whirls by my window as the cab approaches the hotel. I can’t wait to see it at night when the neon lights cast their glow and the city really comes alive. I feel my mood shift as I exit the cab and make my way into the building. I’m hoping South Beach is just what the doctor ordered, and I am going to fill the prescription.
I enter the lobby, and my breath is taken away. The white marble floor shimmers. The elaborate chandeliers sparkle and slightly twinkle. Hank knew what he was doing when he insisted I stay here; although I think his wife may have helped just a little. I check in and make my way to the bank of elevators, feeling a sense of déjà vu once I hear its familiar ding. Immediately, I am taken back in time to my first date with Dash and being in the elevator with him. How he smelled. How he was so close, yet so far away in the small space. How I felt so drawn to him like never before. The memory is painful, crushing like a ton agains
t my chest. I can’t breathe, I can’t focus, and I can’t get to my room soon enough.
Finally, I get to my floor and, through hazy eyes, make my way down the hall to my room. My trembling fingers have great difficulty using the key fob.
“Here let me help you, miss,” a kind voice speaks from my side.
“Um, thank you,” I reply, my voice cracking.
The kind stranger takes the key fob and easily opens my door. “There you go.”
I turn to thank him again and, when I do, I’m staring into a pair of blue eyes. “Dash?”
“No, sorry, it’s Thomas.”
I shake my head and momentarily squeeze my eyes shut. When I reopen them, I’m staring at blue once again, but not the familiar bright, vibrant blue I was so used to looking at. Composing myself, I apologize.
“No problem, happens all the time. Is there anything I can help you with? You, um, seem a little out of sorts, and a beautiful woman shouldn’t be. At least, not in this beautiful city.” He smiles, but it’s not the smile I’ve been so used to. Still, he’s a reminder, and I can feel the pain cutting my insides to pieces. He clears his throat and regains my attention.
“Um, sorry, I… um… sorry.” And without another word, I enter my room and close the door, leaving him alone in the hallway, probably wondering what the hell just happened. I make my way through the suite to the bedroom and fall to pieces on the bed. I don’t think Florida predicted a storm was brought to shore.
THE WARM SPRAY of the waterfall showerhead eases the tension in my aching muscles. Last night, I vowed I would not shed another tear. Not while on this assignment. Not while in this beautiful city and all it has to offer. As hard as I knew it was going to be, I was at least going to try. I was just thankful I was here, hundreds of miles away. Although the distance didn’t calculate accurately when it came to my heart, but I was working on that.
After a relaxing shower, I got dressed, my wardrobe compliments of Tracy, and made my way to the festival. Usually, South Beach does a big huge Food and Wine Festival in February with the Food Network, but this one was new and spotlighting up-and-coming vineyards all along the east coast. The weather this time of year is ideal in South Florida, and I wasn’t complaining.
Stepping outside the hotel, the bright sun already blazing and heating my skin, I can’t help but smile. The saltiness in the air combined with the humidity moistens my skin, and I taste the ocean when I lick my lips. After I cover the festival over the next couple of days, I am going to enjoy the sights and sounds of Miami. Hank extended my assignment, saying R & R was a part of it.
I forgo taking a cab and just walk along Collins Avenue. My sunglasses offer some protection against the sun’s bright, harsh rays. In the distance, I spot a café and decide to get a bite to eat before I make my way to the beach and start tasting wine under the cover of many white canopies.
As I walk along, I pass by a newsstand and, much to my dismay, I have several images of Dash staring at me. I just can’t get away. Whoever said, “Out of sight, out of mind,” never dated Dash fucking Ford. There were some cosmic forces at work not allowing that sentiment to ring true. I square my shoulders and walk right past every last magazine, diverting my eyes as I move, and I am successful. I don’t break down. I mentally pat myself on my back. My day is off to a great start.
SINCE THE FESTIVAL wrapped up and I finished typing my article, I have been spending my days lounging around the pool or the beach. It feels good just being. Sure, my thoughts drift to Dash from time to time, but on the whole I’m doing better. At least I think I am. But just when I think I’ve got my emotions under control, as well as my thoughts, I’m instantly reminded of him.
Just last night I was getting ready to go get dinner, and I had the television on. Annette Alvarez was reporting the latest Hollywood news when she mentioned an upcoming interview with Redemption’s front man, Dash Ford. My heart stopped. I dropped my mascara, and it streaked the white marble counter. Housekeeping wasn’t going to be happy about my little contribution to the décor.
When I went to turn the television off, Dash was on the screen. His blue eyes seemed to stare straight into me, even through me. I noticed they weren’t as bright as I remember, and his smile didn’t reach his eyes either. I desperately wanted to hear the interview, but my fingers reacted before my brain did and turned it off. I only cried for an hour last night. Needless to say, I’ve avoided all forms of magazine-type television. Crime-scene dramas are now my forte. No reminders there.
So, here I am, once again, getting ready to go out alone. I know it’s what I asked for, but I think I will be cutting my trip a little short. I really need the comfort of my girls. I take one last look at myself in the mirror. My eyes don’t sparkle, but they aren’t red-rimmed or puffy at the moment. I don’t look half bad. At least the waiter won’t give me pity looks like they have every time I go out to eat. I adjust the straps of my dress and, as I leave the bathroom, there is a knock at the door. My heart sinks. I’m not expecting room service or anyone from the front desk. I slowly walk through the suite to the door. Hesitantly, I reach my hand out and, with a shakiness I can’t seem to control, grab the doorknob. While holding my breath, I slowly open the door.
“You didn’t think we were gonna let you enjoy the sun, surf, and clubs of South Beach all alone the whole time, did you?” Val asks, as my mouth hangs open and Tracy looks concerned by her side.
“I, I can’t believe you guys came all the way here,” I respond as a lump creeps its way into my throat and tears prick my eyes.
“Well, believe it, Jules. I just knew you needed us,” Tracy explains, tapping her temple.
“I, I, I don’t know what to say.” I sniffle.
“How about, let’s go have some fun. I think the three of us need to show this town a thing or two,” Val answers.
“I’m not really in the mood. I just want to go to a quiet dinner and just…”
Just what? Escape and forget. I thought coming clear across the country would do that, but I was sadly mistaken.
“Let me guess. You’ve been doing your damnedest to keep your mind off of a certain someone, but are failing miserably. Does that sound about right?”
I nod.
“Maybe, just maybe you’re going about it all wrong. Just maybe being alone isn’t the answer. Running from us isn’t the answer. I know you like to do things on your own, but you don’t need to do that this time, Jules. You’re the strongest woman we know, but you don’t have to be like that with us. We’re here for you. We are here to be strong for you, so you don’t have to. So let us do our job as your best friends, otherwise I think the powers that be would be disappointed and kick us out of the best-friend club. So what do you say? Let us help you. Let us be here for you. Otherwise…” Val gives me this peculiar look and focuses on Tracy.
“Otherwise what?” I look between the both of them and out of the two, Tracy is the most excited.
“Trace.”
In the most off-key voice there ever was, Tracy starts to belt out “Lean on us, when you’re not strong…” I can’t help but smile and she continues to sing the song—if you can call what she’s doing singing.
“Okay… okay… please just stop. I can’t take it. I think my ears are bleeding.”
Tracy carries out the last note, and it is beyond heinous. When she finishes, she bows and then she and Val high five each other.
“See, we have ways of making you do what we want you to do. Don’t make us do that again… please.” Val’s finger is wiggling in her ear, while Tracy looks all sorts of offended, her hand clutching her chest.
“Fine, I won’t. So, what did you have in mind?” I wipe a tear that’s escaped away.
Val and Tracy pull me into a big group hug and then, with one on either side of me, hook their arms with mine.
“Oh, there’s this club we’ve just gotta check out,” Tracy practically squeals.
“Sounds great.” And I can’t help the huge smile that spreads
across my lips.
THE THREE OF us enter the elevator and, for the first time in days, I feel a sense of renew, a sense of calm. I so need them. I thought I could get through this alone, but I was kidding myself. I really need the comfort and the distraction of Val and Tracy. They are my knights in shining armor at the moment.
There is a silence among us as the elevator doors close, but it’s not uncomfortable. Without words, they are giving me exactly what I need. I smile inwardly, knowing I have my girls. It’s really the first time I’ve felt like smiling in weeks. I don’t know why I didn’t accept their offer to come in the first place. Obviously, they know what I need more than I do at times.. The silence is broken with the interruption of my stomach.
“Um, Jules, when’s the last time you ate?” Val asks in her best mother voice.
I wrack my brain and honestly can’t remember. Sure, I’ve been out to eat, but now that I think about it, I would just roll the food around my plate and end up leaving.
“I, um…”
“That’s what I thought. Before we hit the club, why don’t we stop and grab a bite to eat?” Val asks.
“Excellent idea, Val. I know just the place. It’s not that far from the club either,” Tracy adds.
The two of them give each other a look, a look I know too well. They are so up to something, but right now I don’t care. They are here, and that’s all that matters. Knowing Tracy, the club she has in mind probably has men walking around scantily clad. That’s probably the reason for the look. I brush it off as such.
“Sounds good,” I agree.
WE SIT DOWN to eat at some little Cuban restaurant Tracy was dying to check out. Val orders us a round of Mojitos and I lose myself, purposely, in the menu. I really don’t want to answer any of the questions I know they’re going to ask.
