by Unknown
“When the hell did you get back?”
Neil laughs, pulling his body away from me to settle with more space between us on the couch.
“About twenty minutes ago. How ya doing, Rene?” he says, amused.
Rene closes the door and crosses the room in a flurry, dropping down on the couch on the vacant spot beside Neil. I watch her lean in to give him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, and their easy closeness gives me a sharp stab in my stomach. They hated each other when Neil first moved into the condo, and now they are more comfortable as friends than I am with Neil.
Rene’s pretty face fills with a dazzling smile. “Really. How long are you staying?”
“A day. Maybe two…” He makes a face in my direction. “…or I might just stay until Chrissie kicks me out.”
They laugh, and I fight not to let show how much that jab hurt me. Neil was only teasing, messing with me like he likes to do, but I still feel badly about how I treated Neil. I miss him more than I ever thought I would, and every lighthearted taunt seems to hold an edge and bite today.
Rene taps Neil on the chest with an index finger. “I’ve got plans tonight, but your ass is mine in the morning. I don’t have class until noon. Why don’t we go out, grab some breakfast, kick around Berkeley for a while?”
“Deal,” Neil says as Rene springs up from the couch. He follows her with his eyes until she disappears into her bedroom and then turns to give me a heavily exasperated look. “I will never get used to it when Rene is being nice.”
“I told you she would be glad you’re here.”
His expression changes and something about his eyes makes me tense. “Are you glad I’m here or is this hard for you? I can’t quite figure out what I’m feeling from you.”
Crap. I take in a deep breath to steady myself. “I’m just going through some stuff, Neil. It’s no big deal. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. I’m really happy you’re here. It’s just me. OK?”
Neil leans into me, his eyes filled with concern. “Anything serious?”
I struggle to hold back my words. For some reason, the second Neil walked through my door the urge to blurt out my problems to him has been almost overpowering.
I shift my gaze away from his. “Nothing serious. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want ruin you being here with my lame drama.”
He lifts my chin so I have no choice but to meet his eyes. “Lame drama, huh? Nope, not buying it, Chrissie. Tell me what’s wrong. I can tell when something is pretty fucked in your world. I’ll help however I can.”
When I don’t answer him, Neil shakes his head, exasperated, and pulls me against him.
“God, you’re really frustrating at times. Most girls can’t wait to tell you their shit, and it’s like pulling teeth to get you to say anything about anything even when I ask you to.”
I roll my eyes, and try to manage a don’t make a big deal of this kind of face. “I’m just fucked up that way.”
“You’re not fucked up in any way.” He lets out a long, sort of angry exhale of breath. “I hate that you say that about yourself. I’d like to kick the shit out of whoever said that to you and made you believe it.”
I can feel my eyes start to burn with tears and I don’t want them to. I don’t know how he can think I’m not a fucked-up girl after how I treated him, but then Neil has never known me the way Alan does. It was Alan who said that to me—you’re a pretty fucked-up girl—but he said it for a good reason, to try to help me, back when he used to care about me.
I bury my face against Neil’s chest. Into his shirt, I whisper, “I’ve fucked up big this time. If I told you everything, you would hate me. And I don’t want you to hate me. Not ever.”
Neil’s arms tighten around me. “Nothing would ever make me hate you, Chrissie. Whatever is going on it’s going to be OK. Talk to me. I want to help. We’ll figure out together how to fix whatever has got you so worried and afraid.”
Worried and afraid? How can he see that? That’s how I feel today. I just didn’t know it showed.
I turn in his arms to put space between us. His eyes are lush green and unguarded, and something in his gaze nearly makes the words spill from me.
“I’m sorry I’m such a pain,” I whisper.
“You’re not a pain. We’re friends. Friends help each other during the shitty times. I’m glad I’m here at a time when you need me. It’s one of the things I did wrong. One of the things I regret. Not being here for you as much as you were always here for me. Tell me what’s going on, Chrissie. There is no point pretending things are OK. Not with me, and I want to help. I owe you a lot.”
Neil means that, but somehow it makes being with him so much harder.
“You owe me nothing, Neil.”
His eyes burn into me. “Then let me be here for you because I love you.”
“Neil, please…”
“I won’t pretend I don’t love you when I do.”
He reaches up and wipes away a tear from my cheek with his finger, those callused fingers that touch with their own sweet type of velvet care.
“I love you and I’m going to keep loving you even if it’s just only as your friend,” Neil whispers.
The tears come harder; I can’t stop them. The sensation of Neil’s rough fingertips brushing my flesh floods my heart with the memory of Alan. When Neil touches me this way, it is Alan I think of and feel, and I don’t want to.
Why can’t life be as kind as Neil is? Why can’t I love Neil the way I love Alan?
I don’t pull back when Neil takes my body against him and wraps his arms around me. I know this is wrong, dishonest and unkind, but it feels so good to be held. Really, really good to let Neil hold me.
~~~
I wake in the wrap of Neil’s limbs. My bedroom is filled with faint light, and it feels like early morning. I don’t know if I should stir and let Neil see that I’m awake. His breath teasing my ear has the shallowness of sleep, but I’m not sure if he is asleep. I can’t tell by the way his arms are holding me, and I can’t see his face.
Somehow last night, we ended up in my bed together. I’m not exactly sure how it happened. It just happened.
I shift my head and my hair falls across my face. Unfocused moments slip by. I know why it happened; last night Neil was exactly what I need from a guy right now. For hours he just sat with me on the couch, holding me, caressing me, saying nothing, not probing into my fucked-up life with a whole bunch of questions, and by the time we went to bed everything about my predicament felt a little less scary.
It’s no big deal. It was a fuck. Nothing more. No harm, no foul to either of us.
More snippets of the night come to me. The way Neil looked at me. The words he spoke. The expression in his eyes as he made love to me.
Oh God, why did I let it happen? I try to console myself with the thought that it was just one of those things girls do when they are overwhelmed by their worries, when the guy they love will not love them, and there is a different guy, giving and wonderful, ready to be what you need him to be.
I cringe. That’s a pitiful rationalization. Well, there’s no point in panicking over this now, it’s done, and I really don’t need another thing to feel badly about.
I look down at Neil’s arms and try to figure out a way to slip out of bed without waking him. I need some alone time to get my emotions back in check. I’ve got to get the right amount of distance between us again.
Jeez, I don’t even know if that’s possible after last night. The temptation to tell him everything was painfully strong, even before we went to bed together. But I can’t do it. I can’t dump my shit on him. It wouldn’t be right, not on any level.
Having sex with Neil and waking with his flesh all around me reminds me that, as good as we are together, he is only almost everything I want and I won’t ever be in that place emotionally with Neil where he is everything that I want. Neil deserves that from a girl—for him to be everything that she wants—because he’s an amazing gu
y. I can’t give him that, and it would be wrong not to make that clear to him today.
Why did I take him to bed and fuck him?
I feel Neil move behind me, and then he starts kissing against the back of my neck and I tense. I can tell by how he is kissing me, touching me, that he is definitely in the mood for a repeat of last night.
I untangle myself from his arms and turn onto my other side, facing him.
Neil’s sleepy eyes hold me like an embrace as he reaches out to lightly touch my cheek. “Hi.”
My heart leaps against my chest since he says a single word—hi—in a way that tells me this wasn’t just a fuck for him.
“Hi,” I reply, tense and awkward.
His darkly tanned, nicely muscled arm lifts and he pushes the hair from his face. “I don’t think I have enough strength to get out of bed today. I think I’ll just lie here while you’re at class, thinking of you.”
“I don’t have class until four.”
“Everything is going my way today.” He smiles and starts to lightly brush his fingers along my arm. “Fuck, I’ve missed being with you, Chrissie. I wasn’t sure until I saw you lying beside me that I didn’t dream last night and that I wasn’t really on the couch.”
He leans in to kiss me and my entire body stiffens before I pull back. He eases up on an elbow, gaze rapidly sharpening, and I wonder what has slipped into my expression.
The languidness leaves him in a jolt I can feel. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I scooch away from him to recline against the headboard. “Look, Neil…”
His eyes start to flash, trapping my words inside me. “What do you mean look, Neil. Look, Neil, what?”
Oh crap. I try desperately not to look flustered. “Last night was good. Really good, but…” I halt for a minute, searching for the right words since it’s not easy to tell a guy you’ve just gone to bed with that having sex with him doesn’t mean you want him back. “…but I don’t think we should change anything about us.”
He pulls away and sits on the edge of the bed. “Not change anything, huh? Excuse me, but fucking you last night kind of seemed like we were changing things about us.”
My face burns, and I lower my gaze. “I don’t want us to get back together.”
In a moment he is rising from the bed, jerking on his pants.
“Where are you going? What are you doing?”
“I’m just putting on my pants,” Neil growls through gritted teeth, and I can feel he’s pulsing with anger and other things. He turns to face me. “What was last night? Did you just want to get laid or was that some kind of pity fuck for the guy you dumped?”
I cringe. “Jeez, Neil, pity fuck? Really?”
The way he stares at me makes me regret those words. OK, they were lame, but I never think fast on my feet.
I stare up at him, wide-eyed and pleading. “I care about you. You care about me. It just happened. That was what last night was. Can’t we just leave it at that?”
His jaw clenches and unclenches, and his expression changes several times. His gaze locks back on me, furious. “Are you seeing someone else? Involved with someone?”
Betraying color floods my cheeks and he lets out a ragged sigh as he rakes a hand through his hair.
“Fuck, I know I didn’t ask you that, but why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I’m not involved with anyone. I’m not even dating.”
He searches my face. “Are you telling me the truth?”
I nod and he looks relieved. I can tell that a part of the relief is that he’s wondered if I broke up with him for someone else.
He sinks down beside me on the bed.
“So do you want to start by telling me what’s going on or maybe just explain why you fucked me if you’re not interested in getting back together?”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to do either.”
Neil makes a small laugh. “That wasn’t an option. I’m only letting you choose where we start.”
I take a moment to try to organize my thoughts into a disclosure that won’t amplify Neil’s uncharacteristic, volatile state.
“I was involved with someone else for a while, but it’s over.”
That seems to calm Neil a little and he nods.
“Are you in love with him?” he asks, his voice rough.
I shrug. “We’re over. It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to talk about that.”
“How long were you together?”
Fuck, why that question? There is no way to answer it without telling Neil things I don’t want to tell him. After several minutes carefully crafting the best way to answer, I’m trying to sputter out my response when all words take flight and I am knocked off my feet by what I am feeling.
I scramble from my bed and run into the bathroom to the toilet as the bile pushes upward from my stomach to mouth. I almost don’t make it and I barely manage to lift the lid and lower to my knees before the violent spasms start.
Oh fuck, oh fuck. Oh fuck. Not again. It’s getting more intense each day, as intense as it was yesterday. Over and over again I throw up, until I am sure there is nothing left in my stomach.
Struggling against my body, I pull myself up in front of the sink and splash water on my face. I breathe in and then out, hoping it’s passed, but I can feel my stomach take over again and I slouch over counter.
I can’t stop the spasms. There is too much rushing through me all at once.
I start to pant and splash more water on my face. Please, I don’t want to be sick all day today. Not now. Crap, how is it possible for there to be so much acid-tasting yellow bile?
Just the smell of it makes the sickness intensify and I vomit again. Panting heavily, I reach out, grab a hand towel, turn on the water, and once it’s soaked I hold it against my face.
I sit on the floor beside the toilet. Oh please, let that be the last. Breathe in. Breathe out. It goes away faster when I stop fighting it.
“When were you going to tell me that you’re pregnant?”
Oh no!
I look over my shoulder to find Neil watching from the open doorway. He waits until my labored breathing subsides.
“When were you going to tell me?” he repeats, more harshly this time.
The anxious and alarmed arrangement of his features warns me that he thinks he’s responsible for this. I say, “I hadn’t planned on telling you.”
Something changes in his eyes. It is something I’ve not seen before. The lines of his face harden in front of me inch by inch.
“Are you saying you weren’t going to tell me because you wanted to take care of it privately or because it isn’t mine?” he asks, his voice faint and emotion-roughened.
Crap, I didn’t want to tell Neil this, not like this, not this way, not ever. The answer will hurt us both too much if I allow it voice in the room. The truth will also make abundantly clear the parts of our history Neil doesn’t know and I’m suddenly desperate for him never to know that I was with Alan while we were together. Even though Neil and I understood we had an open arrangement, I don’t want him to know this.
My silence intensifies his anger.
“Fuck, Chrissie, don’t you think I deserve an answer to that?”
The knot in my throat is painful. “Yes, you deserve an answer. It’s not yours, Neil, and yes, I planned to take care of it privately, and yes, I didn’t want to ever tell you or anyone.”
His lower teeth cut into his upper lip, and it looks like he’s struggling with something only loosely internally contained.
Finally, he sinks down on the floor beside me, close but not touching. Minutes pass in heavy silence and it feels like neither of us knows what to say to each other.
Neil looks at me. “Does the guy know?”
I shake my head and his eyes flash at me.
“Don’t you think he deserves to know, Chrissie?”
“He doesn’t care and he doesn’t want to know. He ended it with me. We’re over. He doesn’t ca
re about me. OK?”
My lips tighten as I struggle not to let surface how those words hurt me, but the words rip at my heart since they force me to remember that Alan doesn’t love me anymore. I set my washcloth down on the tile and lean back against the tub.
“How pregnant are you?” he asks.
I shrug. “Three months, I think.”
Neil looks alarmed again. “Think? Haven’t you been to see a doctor? If you don’t know how pregnant you are how do you know it’s not mine?”
I give him a hard stare since I’m not explaining that one to him. “I just know, Neil. It’s not yours.”
He shakes his head again. “You need to see a doctor.”
“I’m going to the clinic tomorrow. I’m doing it all in one appointment. Go to the clinic, get a pregnancy test, exam and termination all in the same day. According to Rene it’s no big deal. She’s had two abortions.”
“Fuck. I could have gone my entire life without knowing that about Rene. Is that why she’s so happy I’m here? She thinks I knocked you up? Is that why she wants to have breakfast with me this morning?”
I grimace at him saying knocked-up and murmur, “No, she doesn’t know and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell her. You’re the only person I’ve told. Jack doesn’t even know.”
His eyes fix on my face. “Are you going to tell me who you’ve been seeing?”
For a moment I debate whether I should and then I wonder why I am being stupid about this. Neil knows practically everything. Why not just be honest? Why not tell him everything? I already feel better, more calm inside, after the little I’ve already shared with Neil. Maybe if I tell him everything I’ll stop feeling awful and alone and afraid.
“I’ve been seeing Alan Manzone for almost three years. The baby is his.”
My voice is so quiet I can barely hear myself, but I know Neil heard me because his entire body tenses.
“Three years? You’ve been fucking Alan Manzone for three years?”
The way he repeats that makes me flinch.
