Leaving Me Behind

by Sigal Ehrlich

  “Have a great evening, Liv.” And he is out the door.

  I blink at the door a couple of times, muddled.

  Did that sting? Oh, yes, it did, royally.

  Have I brought it upon myself? Oh, yes, I did, definitely.

  Chapter 9

  “Can We Figure it Out”

  Ana Graceman

  “I want us to revisit your last relationship, Liv,” says Dr. Smartass as soon as he learns about my new no-strings-attached, ongoing-hookups “relationship.”

  I grimace and huff loudly. As ever, the good doc disregards my conveyed resentment. “Let’s go over the breaking point.” He adjusts his square glasses up on his nose.

  I push my head back onto the comfy sofa with a bothered sigh and let that last time we hung out together, before I kicked Aden’s ass to the curb, play vividly before my shut eyes. It was a few months ago, a morning after he slept over, which didn’t happen too frequently. I was having my first cup of coffee of the day, the one no one who cares for his dear life should attempt to interfere with by either speaking . . . or breathing next to me.

  Aden lumbered into the kitchen, wearing loose, worn-out boxers, a button-down, socks, and glasses. Not exactly the walking aphrodisiac.

  The moment he stepped in, in all his morning glory, two things ran in parallel through my semi-functioning, daybreak hours mind. The fact that yet again last night’s orgasm was my doing, and that he does not, for one frigging moment, shut the ever-loving fuck up.

  “Where are my corduroys?” he asks going to the cupboard. “You’re out of green tea.” He turns around to face the sink. “Where’s the paper? Oh, I forgot to tell you, I got us tickets for The Vagina Monologues.” He moves toward the coffeemaker and pours himself a cup. Finally, he turns to meet my irritated, silent gaze. “Where’s the half and half?” He cracks a smile. “Last night was great, huh?”

  Urgh!

  I try to meditate, mute him out, and drift into my waking up place where the entire human race is banned from visiting. But what he’s about to do breaks my bubble in the most terrifying manner. Please, not again.

  Aden is about to perform one of his “morning rituals.” The same one that, time after time, provokes each and every one of my nerves to spike, and prompts me each time to mentally run to the toilet and retch. I am looking at him while chanting in my head, “don’t do that, don’t do that, for the love of . . . don’t.”

  And he does.

  Just like every freaking time before, I watch, as though in slow motion, appalled. He bends to take a long sip from the running tap, no glass, gargles twice, loudly mind you, and spits his mouth’s contents flat-out onto my sink full of dishes. My dishes, the ones I eat from.

  “Besides his, ahem,” coughs my shrink from the direction of the screen, “varied idiosyncrasies, what made you decide to end the affair?”

  “Many things,” I muse for a short pause. “I guess I wasn’t ready to share my apartment with anyone, my private time, my space, my life. There was nothing actually wrong with Aden. He was smart, kind, and genteel. A decent guy. But nothing about him excited me. In a way, he just fit well with my hectic schedule and my reluctance to actually make an effort to start dating again.” How sad does that sound? And to think I spent a good part of a year on that relationship. “I don’t believe he essentially did anything wrong.”

  “And yet you were in a serious, monogamous relationship with him for several months. Did you, at any point, see any potential in this affair, a future with him?”

  I shake my head. My therapist just stares.

  “Right from the beginning, I knew it would never evolve into anything meaningful. I think I didn’t want to disqualify him with no special reason. On paper, he was . . . a good guy. I wanted to give him a chance.” The doctor nods and I know he knows where, subconsciously or not, I’m going with this.

  “I was afraid I’d be acting like her,” I say and stop, shifting my eyes to the window.

  “Our time is up,” he declares, and I let out a relieved sigh. “Next time, we’ll resume from here.”

  Of course, he’d never pass on an opportunity to analyze my “special” relationship with my mother. A tireless relationship grounded on a tug-of-war over who’s right and who’s wrong. Where, of course, I’m the one who presumably doesn’t know what’s right for herself, ever. Our precious way of coexisting is mainly settling even the smallest of discussions in a battle.

  It takes me a while to get into a calm zone post the weekly session. Everything we discussed seemed to be stuck in my mind, raising questions I’ve already asked myself a million times in the past. Questions that have always come back empty. With a great need for a positive distraction, and some longing for a faraway friend, I fetch my phone and close the door behind me.

  A few porch lights softly illuminate the beach; the sky is dark, but clear, and the salty air lightly caresses my face. I start toward the shallow water, where light, lukewarm waves kiss my ankles. I indulge in the tranquility that the evening induces for a long moment and dial Kai’s number.

  “Hey you, busy?” I greet Kai, more than glad to hear his voice.

  “Not for you.”

  “Just finished a call with Dr. Smartass.”

  “Did he manage to fix you yet?”

  “I’m unfixable, but you already knew that.”

  Kai’s response is a snort.

  “How about you; what are you doing?” Not a beat passes before a feminine laughter fills his side of the line.

  “Making friends with the locals.”

  “Gross, please tell me you’re at least decent.”

  “I’m never decent, but you already knew that. Hold up, let me step out to the balcony.” I can literally hear him shrug his pants on and I shake my head. A flicker sounds, followed by an audible heave, telling me that Kai has lit a cigarette.

  “So how’s fulfilling your dream been treating you?” The last of his words comes out on a prolonged puff.

  “I don’t know . . . it’s been great so far, but I feel like I’m wasting my time doing practically next to nothing.”

  “Having a great time doesn’t sound like a waste of time to me, Liv. That’s what you wanted forever. Stop being so neurotic and enjoy it to its fullest. Stop giving yourself a hard time.”

  “You’re right.”

  “So, what constitutes great time?”

  “For starters, this place is everything I thought it would be, different, exciting, and gorgeous. Oh, my God, Kai, don’t even let me start on the food. It’s like a culinary heaven.”

  “Sounds great.”

  I close my eyes and lift my face up for the light breeze to tickle my neck, “And I sort of have a . . . lover.”

  “Say what?”

  “I guess you can say I’m having an affair. No strings attached, just a sex kind of thing.”

  “Are you sure you’re up for something like that?” The severity his voice takes as he asks his question makes me stop short. “I’d be the last one to preach against casual sex, but . . .”

  “I can handle it, Kai. In fact, I’m handling it perfectly well.”

  “In that case, I’m happy for you. It’s about time.”

  I let out a light chuckle.

  More than twenty minutes pass of Kai telling me about all the places he’s been to before we say good-bye. With a soft smile on my lips, I retrace my steps back to my lovely new house, more than ready to spend the rest of this evening with a book and my cozy porch swing.

  Chapter 10

  “This Probably Won’t End Well”

  The Order of Things

  “Oh, no. We’re going to dinner this time,” Sebastian says to my lips, pinning me against the wall while his hands do an amazing job at tracing my breasts. I shake my head, lightly whimpering as he scrapes his teeth next to my collarbone. He leans back, and I immediately miss his touch. I flicker my eyes open to a mildly peeved brown gaze.

  “This is ridiculous, Liv. I’m starving, it’s be
en a long day at work, and I want to eat.”

  Sometimes there are situations in which you need to consider slightly bending the line you have drawn. When you know you’ve pushed it to the point where it’s about to turn absurd. The last time I didn’t budge on my stubbornness, he ended up leaving to have dinner with someone else, which was followed by three days of an MIA Sebastian.

  “Umm, maybe we can just order in?”

  Sebastian inhales through his nose. He gives me another look that clearly transmits he is losing his patience with me. “Let me just grab my purse,” I say and wiggle out of his touch, stepping toward my sandals.

  . . .

  “I still can’t seem to figure you out,” Sebastian says, pouring a second serving of red wine into our glasses. My eyes jerk up in question to meet his.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He wipes his mouth with a napkin and tosses it aside. He gives me a brief, silent assessment and says, “Your insistence on keeping this distance between us though it’s very clear you don’t really want to.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “There are many things you can easily fake, Liv. Attraction is not one of them.”

  I hide my lack of a valid argument with a generous sip of my drink.

  “What are you so afraid of?”

  “The decision I made to move to a new place, by myself, was so I could focus on me. I’m not looking for a relationship, or anything for that matter, that will take too much of my time or attention.”

  His expression turns pensive. “I’ve never mentioned a relationship. Just having a good time together in and out of bed.”

  I sigh over the rim of my half-drunk glass. “As long as we’re on the same page.”

  “What’s got you so reserved?”

  My brows meet in response.

  “Did someone hurt you?”

  I shake my head. “No. All of my relationships were straightforward, black and white, nothing too complicated. No drama.” I shrug. “Simple.”

  “My relationship with my nurse after I had my vasectomy was steamier than what you just described.”

  Lucky nurse…

  My eyes grow wide. “Vasectomy?”

  “Appendicitis,” he snorts. “God, the look on your face was priceless.”

  Banter or not, funny or not, this conversation is leading down a path I don’t want to follow. I’m not willing to analyze my past relationships, nor myself, with . . . him. Light as we keep it, our conversations always seem to leak into topics of intimate levels I’m not inclined to reach with him. A distraction is in order. I take a small crouton from my salad and bring it to my mouth.

  “So, you were a fireman?” I casually ask.

  His eyes bound by surprise dart to mine. “What?” comes out on a breathy chuckle.

  “In my head you were.” I produce a sexy smile. “Just go with it.”

  Another low chuckle. “Honestly, it was an incredibly rewarding job. I even got a medal once.”

  I love how quickly he plays along. “Oh, you did?” I mirror his suggestive grin.

  “Yeah, for saving a couple of pussies.” His tongue comes out to play with his front teeth.

  “Aww, you saved kittens. You did it shirtless, of course, right? And I bet you had coal marks on your forehead and pecs. Did you have to use your hose?” I blink at him.

  Sebastian eyes me with amusement.

  “No, but I’d be more than happy to rescue you. . . with the help of my hose.” He catches the waitress’s attention and signals for the check. I beam at the knowledge we’re leaving, probably to further explore the subject of extinguishing hazardous, needy fires.

  A signed bill and a generous tip later, Sebastian rises to stand and holds out his hand for me. “Let’s go practice the two in, two out rule and proper hose handling.”

  A few steps into the night, Sebastian ducks, allowing his low voice to reach my ear. “You know that you’ll have to open up to me eventually?”

  . . .

  “Who’s this?” Sebastian halts mid-fly zip. I lean in to fish my dress left midway between the living room rug and my breakfast bar. Right at the very spot of my first orgasm. I turn my eyes to the direction his are zeroed in on.

  “That’s Kai,” I say, trying to no avail to smooth my wrinkled dress. Sebastian’s stare doesn’t waver from the photo of Kai and me on a sandy beach, lips locked with goofy expressions. A kiss that meant nothing more than us fooling around for the camera.

  I am taken aback by the lack of amusement, or better yet, the gravity in Sebastian’s expression as he turns my way.

  “And what is this Kai person to you?”

  “My best friend.” Is it me, or did he just scowl at me?

  “Is he gay?”

  “Pardon? Not that it’s any of your business, but he is heterosexual.” My eyes follow every notion revealed on his face that simply screams absurd. The little head shake, the wince, the twitch of irritation at his ticking jaw.

  “There’s no such thing as opposite sex best friends.” He air quotes the last part he utters with pure disdain.

  “Oh c’mon, don’t. Let’s not start one of these ridiculous arguments.”

  “I’m not arguing with you. I’m just suggesting you stop diluting yourself. If a man is straight, healthy, and at the minimum mentally stable requirement, he is never actually your friend. There’s always something out there, an ulterior motive that usually begins and ends in your panties.”

  I roll my eyes. “Believe me, there’s none of that when it comes to Kai and me. We’re immune to each other’s ‘heat scents.’”

  Somewhat snappy, he quickly resumes buckling his belt and sends a hand to his abandoned shirt on one of the high chairs. “I’m telling you, it’ll come, sooner or later.”

  “What makes you think you’re right?”

  His stare turns from dark brown to pissed. “I know so.”

  “Okay then, let’s agree to disagree. Shall we?” I say, heading to freshen up. I find Sebastian dressed, shoving his wallet into his pocket and grabbing the bike keys when I return to the living room.

  “Come for dinner tomorrow,” he says.

  I’m about to argue, but his stare tells me that I might want to let it go this time.

  “Okay. Good nigh…” This time I don’t get to push him out, as he is out the door before I’m even able to finish my sentence.

  As I turn to get ready for bed, satiated like only Sebastian can make me feel, there’s a little itch of annoyance floating in my stomach. It takes a few minutes, during which I brush my teeth and set the lotion back on the counter, to realize the little argument we just had apparently has left its mark. I’m equally annoyed about his presumption of Kai and me, and the fact that we actually had an argument about it. Ultimately, I am left with the most troubling thought of all - why does it bother me when all I want from him is sex?

  Still absorbed in my thoughts, I make my way to the bedroom after shutting the windows and locking the front door. I stop short when my eyes encounter the mantel. My brows furrow at the framed photo of Kai and me lying face down. No, he didn’t . . . did he?

  Chapter 11

  “First crack”

  Stephanie Schneiderman

  “I went on another date last night,” Stephy says, ending her words with a dramatic sigh.

  “That sigh tells me this date is about to turn into one of those fast Vegas weddings, eh?” Vivian sends Stephy half a smile while bringing a small plate of butter cookies to our table. We both nod in appreciation at the munch.

  “I’m telling you; modern dating is exhausting. There’s so much involved besides two people getting to know each other or having fun together. To begin with, whenever you go on a date these days, you already know everything there is to know about him or at least what he publicizes to the cyber world.” Both Vivian and I wait for Stephy to go on. “You Google the heck out of them before.” I nod into my steamy cup. “The adventurous, witty, good-looking guy you’ve s
talked online turns into a non-airbrushed version of average.”

  “Sad,” I murmur and take another sip of my coffee. “That’s why I’ve decided not to date for a while. I’m so done with average, in every aspect of my life.”

  “Speaking of you not dating and things way above average, Sebastian Balle asked about you the other day.” It takes twenty-six muscles to smile; I need to work them all to do the exact opposite.

  “Sebastian was the wine guy, right?” I go with blunt nonchalance. “Um, what was it that he wanted to know?”

  Vivian shrugs. “You know, just asking in general.” She eyes me next, carefully studying my reaction. And as much as I want to grab her by her shoulders, shake her, and make her elaborate, I continue my cool stance. “I told him I think someone should crack your shell.”

  I almost spit out my next sip. If there’s anyone who’s doing a good job of “cracking my shell”. . .

  “Oh, he is the finest breed,” Stephy swoons.

  That he is. God probably dropped mass man production when it came to him. He went with delicate handiwork instead.

  “But isn’t he in a relationship with that Lola person? They used to be inseparable.” Stephy asks. That pinch in my stomach? I choose to disregard it.

  Vivian shakes her head, her eyes glued to a point ahead of us. “Not as far as I know.” Words are burning on the tip of my tongue and I press my lips to prevent their escape. Who the hell is this Lola person? That pinch turns into to a tight knot as I recall Sebastian asking a certain Lola to join him for that business dinner after I refused to go with him.

  “You might want to get to know him, Liv.” Vivian pulls me back from my musing. “He is a great guy.” I nod at Vivian. With that, I can’t argue. And so much more.

  “Hola, ladies.” The ring of the bell above the door comes in stereo with Alma’s greeting.