Eight Goodbyes

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Eight Goodbyes Page 12

by Christine Brae


  “I’m sorry, baby. It’s just that you’re a woman of many words. You write about love, and yet, when it comes to yourself, you don’t articulate much.”

  “Am I disappointing you?” she asked, her voice shaking.

  He pulled her in an embrace. She willingly stepped in. “No! Of course not.” He tried hard to keep an even tone. He really didn’t want to fight. He wanted to hear her say things were changing. And yet, he knew she wouldn’t. He had to tell her the truth. He’d been thinking about it even before this trip, right after he’d seen her in Hong Kong. He pulled away, enough to look at her face, his arms remaining wrapped around her.

  “It’s not enough for me anymore, Tess.”

  There. He’d said it. He couldn’t bear to wait around until the next trip, the next adventure. Sure, they communicated often through the phone, or text or the infamous WhatsApp. But living from one trip to the next was not what he wanted from her.

  Then again, he had to be very careful about this—too much too soon could also turn her away. He had many goals to accomplish. What did he know about her, anyway? Always noncommittal, sometimes self-absorbed.

  Beautiful, enticing, smart, free-spirited.

  What the fuck. He was confused.

  All he knew was that he was falling, falling, falling. Fast.

  “What, Simon? What’s not enough? Me? I’m no longer enough for you?” she asked, her eyes filled with pain.

  “No! This. I need to know what this is. Fucking fifteen hours a day, saying goodbye and then meeting weeks later, only to do it all over again.”

  Now she stepped back. They stood facing each other, an arms-length apart.

  “I’ve been too afraid to ask at the risk of hearing your answer. But I need to know. Tess, where is this going?” He looked in her eyes as he said it. She avoided his gaze and cast her gaze at her hands. She stayed silent for a few seconds, her shoulders hunched, eyelids fluttering nervously. She braided her fingers first in one direction and then in the other.

  “Simon, you’re asking me for next steps, I don’t know what to tell you.”

  He grabbed her hand again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately, on to her tendency to take her stress out on her hands. Wringing, swinging, twisting.

  “I didn’t say I had the solution.” He smiled. “I just know I have a problem.”

  “Is it really a problem? And why do we have to talk about all this now? I don’t want to spend our last day talking about this.”

  “It’s a part of who you are and it’s definitely not stupid. It’s a process, Tess. When two people try to get to know each other, the past matters.”

  Her head jerked back, and her eyes widened.

  He continued, “In fact, Riley, Jacob, Revete, even Andrew. Someday, I’d like to meet them all too. Like we did Nana yesterday. In fact, maybe I should Facebook friend her.”

  That made her giggle. “Add her to your eleven friends?”

  “Something like that.”

  They both laughed. Detours, detours, detours. She was an expert at deflecting. Now to get her back on track.

  “Seriously though, Tess. I’d like our lives to intersect.” A slight pause. “Eventually.”

  “We’re not there yet.”

  This is it, he thought. This is where she cuts ties. Simon released her hands, turned around and walked back to the nightstand where her gift lay waiting for him. Maybe he was over thinking this. She was right about the fact that they both had so much going on.

  “Let’s see my birthday present,” he said, reaching for the tiny box on the night table and before sitting on the bed.

  She followed him back into the room and sat beside him. “Simon, I’m sorry. I—”

  “Is it okay if I tear the paper?” he asked, ignoring her latest attempt to apologize.

  “Of course,” she said with a half-smile; the sound of crinkling paper permeated the room, providing them with respite from words. Gently, he opened the box and held up a pair of cufflinks. They were white gold shaped globes, intricately etched with the different continents of the world. He lifted his legs and scooted back on the bed to lean on the headboard. She slid in closer to him, legs still hanging off the floor.

  “They’re great,” he said, gently caressing the back of her head and pulling her in for a kiss. Whenever his lips touched hers, everything that happened right before had been erased from his mind. “Thank you.”

  “Now you’ll remember me whenever you wear them,” she said, holding his eyes in hers.

  “Why? Where are you going?”

  For the first time in so long, he felt lost. He wanted answers, but she wasn’t offering any.

  “Nowhere, silly. I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed seeing the world with you.”

  “Me too.”

  Whatever it was she had to give at that moment, he was taking. He would follow her lead—shoot now, ask questions later. It seemed to work for her. Maybe it wouldn’t be half as bad if he quit planning.

  She lifted herself and straddled him. “You do, huh?” she whispered, planting a kiss on his forehead, his nose, his lips. “What.” Kiss. “Else.” Kiss. “Do you.” Kiss.

  “This,” he interrupted, sliding down against the sheets and burying his face between her breasts. “I love this.”

  As hopeful as she was, Tessa knew that the morning’s conversation was far from over. She tried to make it up to him, she really did. It bothered her too—the fact that they were going to part ways in less than twenty-four hours. She was at a loss for words… had run out of verbal assurances. So, she showed him how much she trusted him—that her body, soul, and heart were all his.

  Do this to me. Here, yes. Use this. Yes. Please, do what you want. I’m yours. Yes, Simon. You have me. Of course, you have me. Do it.

  They stayed in bed for a few more hours, watching two Madrid teams play against each other. He told her who the teams were; she couldn’t really remember.

  “The guys in the orange costumes are hot,” she commented.

  “You mean uniforms, not costumes.”

  “Whatever.”

  What she remembered was that he told her he’d love to take her to Barcelona one day to watch his favorite team. They ordered lunch in while she forced him to watch The Holiday.

  “I couldn’t really get into a Christmas movie in early September,” he said when it was over.

  “It’s only Christmas towards the end,” she argued. “Besides, don’t you like where it’s set?”

  “My country house is nicer than that,” he said. “Smaller, cozier.” He wrapped his arms around her tightly to get his point across.

  She asked why he liked making her feel like such a glutton when he always ordered vegetables and she always ordered bread.

  She also asked about his family, and he told her all about his brother Adrian, his wife Ashleigh and their baby, Henry. He’d sent her pictures of his family before, but she never tired of hearing him speak so excitedly about them. There was uncle this and cousin that, and a pub in the middle of here and a baby coming out of there. There seemed to be a whole nation filled with Fremonts.

  He was never alone, he said. He always had family around him.

  She told him again that morning how lucky he was. He kissed her on the nose and said nothing.

  “I have an idea,” she declared, as Simon tried to catch his breath after another make out session. “Let’s go parasailing. Jem’s friend from high school owns the company that runs the best tour.”

  “No.” He stretched both arms over his head.

  She lay on his chest, keeping him inside her. “Please?”

  “Tess, I’m still getting over that cable car in Hong Kong.”

  She laughed before burying her nose in his neck. He smelled musky. Sexy. “Okay. Didn’t think it would hurt to ask.”

  “I think you should do it. I’ll take your picture for your Instagram. If you’re nice to me, maybe I’ll ma
ke a video too.”

  She shrieked as Simon flipped her on her back and held her arms down. She felt him growing inside her. Parasailing will just have to wait. She was about to see the clouds and the sky without leaving the ground.

  It was mid-afternoon by the time they found themselves on a tiny speedboat in the middle of the ocean. First, it was an island-hopping tour in a fishing vehicle called a Bangka—a motorized boat shaped like a canoe with a makeshift roof and outriggers made of bamboo. It bounced in the air with the waves and took in sprays of water against the current. Not far from their hotel in White Beach, they visited a tiny island known for its shells, aptly called Puka Beach. The waters were rough, and the sand was coarse and dense. Simon laid out on the shore while Tessa carried on a conversation with the locals. She watched him revel in his element, bonding with the sand as if it were his new best friend.

  It was always the same routine. Small talk was scarce during the last few hours of their time together. They touched, kissed, held each other in the silence, the sounds of the environment allowing them to immerse themselves in their thoughts.

  A yellow speedboat took them to the deepest part of the ocean. Tessa was nervous and uptight. There were so many things she wanted to say to him, but the time for that had passed. When he’d asked her all those questions, when he’d told her he wanted more, she hadn’t reacted the way she should have.

  Why did he always want to talk about feelings? It’s not like she had none. She certainly spoke, wrote and thought about emotions every single time; honestly, they were overused. Didn’t everyone on Facebook profess their love for their fellow strangers with every single post?

  How unfair. Pushing and provoking when she wasn’t prepared.

  The guide slowed the boat and allowed it to idle in the water. They sat side by side, his arm around her shoulder, her hand on his thigh. All around them, different hues of blue touched the sky and the sea. Cloud swirls in different shapes scattered throughout reminded her of drawings on a chalkboard.

  “Miss,” said Arturo, the guide who looked no older than sixteen years old. He handed her an orange harness weighted down by a heavy black belt. “I can help you get into your gear, if you’d like.”

  Tessa nodded absentmindedly, standing before releasing Simon’s hand. He reached behind the seat to pull out his backpack. “I’ll take your pictures.”

  She nodded again and held her arms out to Arturo. He slipped the harness straps over her shoulders and pulled the cord tightly around her waist. She remained focused on Simon. He smiled at her before turning his attention to his phone and scrolling for the camera.

  “Ready anytime you are, miss. You can get in the water using the ladder in the back or you can dive right in,” Arturo instructed.

  She gestured at him by blinking her eyes and he tipped his head toward her in agreement.

  “Pull this cord once you’re airborne.”

  Tessa nodded. “Gotcha.”

  Simon pulled her into an embrace. “Have fun, babe. Wave at me from above. I’ll be waiting for you right here.”

  Slowly, she turned around and walked toward the edge of the boat. She heard Arturo shuffling toward the engine, getting ready to shift it back in gear.

  “Wait, wait!” she yelled, turning on her heel and running back in the opposite direction.

  Simon jumped up. He ran toward her until she pressed against him, her hands on his chest, his arms locked around her waist.

  “Tessa, what—”

  “Simon, wait! It’s not fair, you’re never fair! You ask me these really tough questions when I’m not ready to answer. Now I have to go on this thing and what if the cord breaks and I get eaten by sharks, and then I never get the chance to tell you what I feel?” she blurted. She was out of breath before she even started. Arturo was going to lose serious money if she didn’t hurry up and get in the water.

  Simon took a deep breath and held her tighter. She worried for a moment when he didn’t say anything. But what the heck. Poor Arturo. She had to hurry up.

  “Here’s the deal. One truth!” she said loud enough for him to hear. The motor kept humming. The sloshing waves threatened their balance. “Whenever something wonderful happens to me, you’re the first one I want to call. And even when something not so good happens to me, you’re the only one I want to complain to. So, I’m changing too.”

  She stopped to take a whiff of his shoulder. He smelled so good, she began to lose her composure.

  “But I’m scared, Simon. I’m not good at this. I’ve moved around so much in my life, that’s the only way I know how to live. I don’t want to disappoint you. I’m afraid if I commit to something, I won’t be able to see it through. Because the reality is, I love to move around.”

  She looked up at him and trailed her finger across his cheek. He was smiling at her. And she smiled back.

  “One more thing. I wanted to cut that bitch Nancy Ling the night you took her to the gala. I was so jealous! I couldn’t see straight. I had every intention to punish you that night, but I couldn’t resist you.”

  He kissed her. Oh god. It made her change her mind about going in the water. Maybe if they just paid Arturo to go swimming while they made out? She was about to suggest that when he took a step back and pulled away.

  “Oh, Tess. It’s okay. You don’t have to worry about anything at all. I know if I push too hard, I’ll lose you. I’m going to give you time to figure it out. But don’t take too long because I’m there.”

  “You are?” she asked, her tone soft. She felt comforted now, knowing he still wanted her no matter how crazy she’d been acting.

  “I am.”

  “Promise?” she asked.

  “Promise.”

  She stood on her toes and kissed him one more time. “Okay, the sooner I get my ass in the water, the sooner we can be back on dry land.”

  She turned and walked toward the end of the boat. “Tell me your one truth later!”

  Tessa gave Arturo a thumbs up and plunged feet first into the ocean. She heard the engine rev up and slowly, the slack of the rope holding her down began to pull her across the surface, until her feet no longer touched the water and the sound of the wind lapped against her ears. She pulled the cord, felt a slight whiplash backward. And then there she was, soaring above the boat, Simon standing by its edge, smiling, taking pictures. She drifted up into the sky, waving in an effort to touch the clouds.

  The loss of gravity, like the loss of control, was liberating. There was nothing she could do to change direction—she was at the mercy of the heavens.

  The sound of the boat began to fade, and an overwhelming sense of peace washed over her. She imagined her mom and dad reaching down to touch her. She wished she could stay there forever, soaring alongside her parents, soaring above the man who was changing her life.

  And then she remembered.

  Her one last surprise. How could she almost forget?

  She pulled at a tiny red string that opened a secret pocket within the harness. In it was a sandwich bag—Arturo’s secret little touch, which she opened and emptied out. Confetti began to litter the sky like rain, falling slowly around her. They disappeared into thin air, pulled down by gravity—touching the tips of the waves, little glitters of light. And then she unfastened another piece of tape—a large banner unfolded by the wind hung from her waist and moved together with the balloon across the sky.

  She wanted him to know how special he was to her.

  H A P P Y B I R T H D A Y S I M O N !!!!

  She looked down to see him laughing, clapping and shaking his head. Arturo jumped up and down, clearly excited his plan had worked. She moved her head from side to side, losing herself in the moment, taking in the omnipresent view of the universe.

  This is what it looks like from their vantage point, she thought. They are watching.

  And then a voice in her head. Look down. Simon is trying to tell you something.

  She focu
sed her gaze back on the boat. He stood looking at her, waiting for her to look back at him.

  And then he did it. She didn’t believe it at first. Had it happened? Had he really done it?

  Yes, he had.

  “Happy birthday!” She waved her arms frantically, her body tipped forward slightly, her legs still swinging in the air. She stared at him, her anchor, her foothold, the only one who could make her want to come back from the sky. He lifted his index finger in the air, paused as if in thought, and then gently tapped his slightly parted lips.

  One. One lip? One teeth? One tooth? Oh my god. One truth! Yes, yes, I understand! She nodded in a frenzy.

  And then slowly, he lifted his right hand and placed it over his heart. His words were unmistakable. He had formed each syllable with his tongue and his lips, making sure she saw his words because he knew she couldn’t hear them.

  “I.” He pointed to himself.

  “LOVE.” Hand back on his heart with his eyes closed.

  “YOU.” Palm up towards the sky, extended toward her.

  #MeetMeAthens

  There’s no way she could be in the middle of this bloody mess, Simon thought while elbowing his way through the sweaty drove of partygoers. Shame on him for not knowing who this Tiesto guy was. Some world-renowned DJ playing live at a nightclub in Athens called Venue. Adrian apparently had friends in pretty high places, considering he’d gotten Simon’s name on the doorman’s list at the very last minute.

  Simon was livid. He’d found out through Instagram that Tessa was all the way in Greece, something she had conveniently forgotten to mention to him the last time they spoke. Which was last night. He was done following her around the world. So, he followed her to this part of the world to tell her. He thought they’d made progress in Boracay. Apparently, he’d been mistaken.

  Tiesto stood atop his DJ table, arms outstretched, holding up two smoke guns and ready to go. The audience followed suit, lifting their arms and waving in hysteria. There were circular pedestals scattered around the area, women in skimpy outfits dancing on top of them, some shedding more and more clothing while everyone cheered them on.

 

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