Mad Love 2

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Mad Love 2 Page 25

by Colet Abedi


  “Sophie,” he says, “tell us what more you want.”

  “More?” I tell him. “More? I want to know that I’m safe, Erik. That he’s my man, that I don’t have to worry about some other woman from his world, someone who fits him so much better than I do—”

  My voice trails off.

  “I just want to feel secure,” I finally say. “And I don’t. Not at all. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring and the longer I’m around him, the more invested I become. And I’m already so far down the rabbit hole I don’t even know how I’m going to crawl out. I have to at least try to protect myself now.”

  I wait for the Erik attack but it doesn’t happen quite like I expect.

  “First, you’re fucking hot and amazing. And he knows it,” Erik tells me. “That’s the most important part of this. You’re not lacking in anything, Sophie. I don’t want you to ever think you are.”

  Silence.

  “But—”

  I feel sick because I know Erik is going to agree with me now. And that means I’m going to have a big choice on my hands.

  “I get it,” he finally says. “I want you to feel safe, too. You deserve to be in a secure relationship. I want that for you.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask.

  Erik reaches out and takes my hand. He squeezes it hard.

  “It means, I understand you, babe,” he says. “I love you. I want you to be happy. And whatever makes Sophie Walker happy makes me happy.”

  My eyes fill up with tears.

  “So what should I do?” I look from Erik to Orie.

  “We can’t tell you that,” Orie says gently. “We can only be here for you no matter what. But you’ve got to make whatever decision you want to make on your own.”

  “Well, that sucks,” I tell them. “You both usually have an opinion about everything.”

  “This one is all you,” Erik tells me.

  I go for a walk in the town. I buy some souvenirs for my parents. I take my time and stroll around and study the people. I take some pictures. I sit at a café and soak in the ambience. I think about my life. How much has happened in the last few months.

  How much I’ve lived.

  And I give thanks for everything. No matter what the future brings for me, I’m grateful for all these incredible experiences I’ve had.

  I mean, I am so lucky. I think it’s the first time in my life I actually realize this. And I’m so incredibly thankful.

  I take a sip of my cappuccino and contemplate my future. There is only today, Sophie, my mind repeats like a mantra. Only today.

  I pick up my phone and text Clayton.

  ME: Where are you?

  He writes back immediately.

  CLAYTON: In my room.

  For some reason, him saying “my room” makes my heart hurt.

  ME: Do you have a minute?

  CLAYTON: Always for you.

  I feel sick.

  ME: I’ll see you in a few?

  CLAYTON: You know where to find me.

  I don’t respond. I pay my bill quickly and head back to the hotel. I go to my room first and freshen up then pick up my sketchpad. Since I never found a Christmas gift worthy of Clayton, I had started a 14x17 sketch of his brother, William while in London. It was done in black charcoal and it was a profile shot of him I found while looking around Clayton’s home. It was the only gift I thought would mean something.

  I was proud of the piece and I hoped he would like it as much as I did.

  I leave my room and make my way to his and knock.

  The door opens almost immediately.

  Clayton looks worried.

  “Why didn’t you use your key?” he asks.

  “It’s your room,” I say. “I wanted to respect you.”

  His body tenses when I say that. He walks over to the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the ski slopes and leans his shoulder against it. I take his beauty in and admire everything about him. He is so sexy. And wonderful. And generous. I’m so blessed he was my first time. My first experience with passion and love. Even with all his flaws—Lord knows I have more than him—I couldn’t have asked for a better lover.

  And that’s what he is. This man dressed casually in jeans and a long-sleeved white thermal shirt, has been my first lover. I’d die happy tomorrow knowing he was all I’d experienced.

  “How was your morning?” he asks cautiously..

  “Great,” I tell him. “I took a walk. It’s really beautiful here.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” He pins me with his gaze.

  We stare at each other quietly.

  “So what now?” he asks guardedly.

  I’m thrown. I’m not going to lie. I was half expecting him to pull me into his arms and tell me that I belong to him, like he always does when we make love, but clearly, that’s not on the agenda.

  That could just be what he says in bed with women, Sophie, my mind tells me.

  But my heart refuses to believe this, even if it might be the ugly truth.

  “I looked up some flights,” I say. “There’s one tonight with a layover in Frankfurt.”

  He stares at me in stony silence.

  “I think I should go,” I finish awkwardly.

  “That’s what you want to do?” He asks.

  No.

  It’s the last thing I want to do.

  “Yes,” I say instead. “It’s what I want to do.”

  “Do you want me to beg you to stay?” he says, but his voice is distant.

  “Clayton,” I say as calmly as I can, “I know you. Or at least I know as much of you as you’ve allowed—”

  “You know me,” he says gruffly.

  “So I know you don’t beg,” I say softly. “I’m not expecting you to.”

  “Then what are you expecting, Sophie?”

  “Nothing,” I whisper.

  His eyes widen.

  “Nothing,” I say again. Because it’s not only the truth, it’s the reality.

  “So this is it?” Clayton asks.

  My insides just turn in knots. I feel like my stomach is going to come out of my mouth. I can’t believe that this is where we are.

  I try to smile.

  “It is,” I say in a shaky voice.

  I put the sketchpad down on the coffee table.

  “What’s that?” He asks me.

  “Your Christmas present,” I say. “You can look at it when I’m gone.”

  “I didn’t get you anything,” he says.

  “You’ve spoiled me enough in every way,” I reply.

  He crosses his muscular arms and continues to stare at me in that possessive way of his. It’s too much for me to handle. I should leave the room before I break down and cry and ask him why he can’t give me more.

  “Clayton,” I begin.

  “Please don’t,” he whispers and closes his eyes for a moment.

  “I must,” I say as I take a step toward him. This is something I have to do. I walk up to him and reach out, cup my hand against his cheek, and smile even though the tears are forming in my eyes.

  “I think you’re a beautiful man,” I say with emotion.

  “Sophie,” his voice sounds muffled and he looks away from me.

  “Look at me,” I insist..

  He does. “Please—” he says.

  And I get my strength.

  “No, I’m not finished.” My voice trembles but there is nothing I can do to help it. “You are so incredible. Inside and out, Clayton. You have so much to offer someone. To life in general. I never knew William—”

  His eyes look glassy as they meet mine.

  “But I know that he’d want you to be happy. To find love. To move on and honor him. So do that.”

  He closes his eyes.

  “Will you promise to do that for him?” I ask as I blink back my tears.

  He doesn’t answer me.

  “For me?” I plead.


  His eyes open and they are bright with unshed tears. His hand moves to cup my cheek.

  “I wish—” he whispers.

  “No,” I stop him, because I don’t want to hear whatever it is he is about to say. Because I know it will be like a thousand knives in my heart. “Just promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  20

  It hurts to be smart.

  It’s the only phrase that seems to echo in my head for the next few hours. I walked away. The smart thing to do.

  But holy shit, my heart hurts like hell now.

  He let me go.

  He let me walk out of his ten thousand dollar suite and out of his life. There’s a part of me that can’t believe it.

  But then I can.

  I understand him. All his deficiencies. He’s incapable. I was praying for a miracle that was never going to happen.

  When I get to the airport, I find out that I’ve been upgraded to first on Lufthansa. I know Clayton did this and, to be honest, I’m actually grateful because it will be way more comfortable on my long way home.

  Erik and Orie were not surprised by my decision. They drove with me to the airport and checked me in. They decided to stay another week and promised they would text me and send me pictures of all their adventures. I put a brave face on because I was tired of being the downer in their life. And I promised them that I would be okay. Because guess what? There’s no other choice for me.

  I get on the plane to Frankfurt and when it takes off I cry my eyes out. I feel like I’ve left my soul behind. That beautiful man has taken it from me and I don’t know how I’m going to be whole again.

  Maybe not how, but when.

  The flight to Frankfurt is quick and I fill the three-hour layover shopping in Duty Free. I splurge on make-up and perfume and buy wine for my dad. I use his credit card, but who’s checking? The time goes fast because I intentionally keep my mind occupied.

  I avoid the magazine newsstands at all costs (we know where that got me the last time) and I just shop. Literally until I want to drop.

  When they call the plane, I’m beyond relieved and ready to go home.

  Maybe if I get a dog when I get home that will fill the hole that Clayton’s left? I’m totally going to research different breeds and find an animal.

  Once I’m safely settled on the plane and have taken the first of what I know will be many glasses of champagne from the stewardess, I allow my mind to wander and go over everything that’s happened in the past few weeks.

  There’s a book in this, I think to myself. Or maybe a movie. It’s completely crazy.

  Since I’m next to the window seat, I busy myself by daydreaming and staring out. I don’t notice who comes or goes. I’m just lost in my own thoughts. And tears. Yes, I’m crying. I’m Sophie. I have to cry!

  Someone holds out a tissue for me.

  Since I can barely see, I just take it and wipe my eyes.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “Rough day?”

  I look over quickly.

  The voice I know as well as my own.

  It’s Clayton.

  Seated next to me.

  I don’t know what to say so I just nod.

  “They say you can always find a silver lining,” he tells me.

  “Who’s they?” I ask out loud.

  “I wish I knew,” he shrugs. “But does it even matter?”

  No. It doesn’t.

  I stare at him with all the love in the world.

  “You’re here,” I whisper in awe.

  “I’m here.”

  “Is this real?” I wonder.

  “So real,” he smiles at me.

  But there’s something there in his eyes. Something more. Something I’ve longed for since the moment I met him.

  It’s love.

  “What now?” I say.

  He takes my hand in his and brings it to his lips.

  “Now we live.”

  -THE END-

 

 

 


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