“Don’t cry,” I murmured.
Leaning in again, I gave in to the sensation that coursed through my body from our kiss. As powerful as the electricity was between us, when our lips touched, the kiss was painstakingly slow and sweet. Her mouth opened and my tongue teased hers. The first contact sent shivers up and down my spine.
As sweet as the kiss was, the salt of her tears coated our lips, making my heart hurt. I kissed her harder, wanting to take away the pain. I wanted to take away the hurt. I wanted to stop her tears. I wanted to make her feel the way her laugh made me feel.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered between kisses. My throat burned with words I wanted to say, but couldn’t. “I’m sorry.”
Still cradling her face, I wiped her tears with my thumbs. I kissed her all over her face before I unpinned her from the door, still cradling her head in my hands.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I acknowledged in a low growl, stroking her cheeks with my thumbs. I planted one last kiss against her lips before I dropped my hands and took a step back.
Bianca wiped her face and let out several trembling breaths. “I’m going to tell you something, but I’m not saying it for you to say anything in return. I just want you to listen and then I want you to let me leave.”
Just hearing her voice thick with emotion hurt my heart. I didn’t know what to expect and I didn’t know if I could handle hearing it, so I didn’t respond at all.
“There’s something between us, Ro. I feel it and I know you feel it too. I see it in your eyes when you look at me. I hear it in your voice when you talk to me. But instead of giving into what you feel, you keep pushing me away.”
Feelings I was trying to keep buried attempted to bubble up to the surface. I closed my eyes.
She continued, “You’re my best friend and I love you. But you have to know now that I’m also in love with you, Roman.”
All of the air left my lungs upon hearing her admission. My heart stopped beating momentarily.
I opened my eyes slowly, carefully as she continued, “If you didn’t feel the same way, I would accept that, but I don’t think that’s the case. I think you feel the same way, but you’re scared. And it’s okay to be scared.” She gestured between us. “I’m scared of this too. But it’s not okay to keep pushing me away, so this time, I’m walking away.”
Even though she said she didn’t want me to respond, I wasn’t completely sure if she expected me to. But once I made eye contact with her, I lost the ability to speak. My mouth opened and closed twice without a word escaping. I felt my resolve being stripped away.
“Goodbye, Ro,” Bianca said so softly that it sounded like a sigh. She tipped her head upward and planted a kiss on my lips. “I love you.”
She opened the door and I let her walk out of it. My heart pounded in my chest and I felt sick as the door clicked closed.
I opened the door in enough time to see the elevator’s doors sliding together. We held each other’s gaze until it shut completely.
Dropping to my knees, I stared at the elevator. My heart felt like it was beating too fast. It didn’t feel like I was getting enough oxygen to my lungs. My body felt hot and out of sorts.
I fucked up, I realized. I should’ve told her the truth. I have to tell her the truth.
Jumping to my feet, I ran across the hall to the elevator. Pushing the button repeatedly, I only had to wait a few seconds for the doors to slide open.
“Thank God,” I said as I saw Bianca standing against the back wall of the elevator, wiping the tears from her face.
Grabbing her arm, I pulled her out of the elevator and back into the studio. Pulling her to the center of the room, I placed both hands on her shoulders. “Don’t move,” I murmured as I walked past her to the back of the room. Grabbing the medium sized canvas that was facing the wall, I turned it around and positioned it in on an easel several feet from Bianca. Once I felt like it was perfectly situated, I walked back over to her.
Guiding her backwards to a rolling stool, I helped her sit, her back still to the painting.
“When I say turn around, turn around,” I instructed her.
Bianca nodded; she was still shaking. I leaned forward and kissed the top of her head, inhaling her vanilla and coconut scent.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I recorded the painting and then Bianca’s back as she sat nervously on a rolling stool in the middle of the room.
If this is the last time I see her and the last time I see her happy, I want to remember every detail of it.
“Turn around,” I commanded, recording the entire scene.
Turning slowly, Bianca’s mouth dropped as soon as she saw it. Standing, she covered her mouth with her hands. I watched her eyes move over the abstract piece, taking in the details. She moved her quivering hands from her mouth to her heart.
“That’s my face,” she breathed, her eyes brimming with tears. She let out a throaty laugh as she said, “Oh my God.”
Her face. Her smile. Her laugh. Got it, I thought sadly, turning my phone off and slipping it back into my pocket.
Taking a few steps toward her, I smiled. “Yes. It’s your face. I did it from memory. What do you think?”
“The emotion and the overall feel of the piece is…wow, perfect. The richness of the black gives it bold lines and added depth without overwhelming the canvas. Even the white space has movement and complexity. It’s perfect, Ro. It’s dramatic and flowing and absolutely beautiful,” she critiqued, staring at it in awe.
“I was inspired,” I replied, almost nervously.
She gave me a smile that made my heart skip a beat. “When did you do this?” she asked quietly.
“A few days ago,” I answered, walking up beside her.
She tore her eyes away from the painting to look at me. “I can’t believe you did this.” She wrapped her arms around my waist, staring up at me. “It’s beautiful, Ro.”
Looking down into her beautiful brown eyes, I ran my hands slowly up and down her back, digging my fingers into her flesh. I inhaled her hair, letting the vanilla and coconut scents invade my nostrils. Pulling her closer, I felt her heart beating through her chest and it seemed to match the speed of mine.
“I love it.”
“I love you,” I admitted softly, planting a tender kiss against her lips. I felt myself getting choked up so I backed away. “And that’s the real reason we can’t do this.”
It seemed to take Bianca a minute to understand what I was saying as she stared at me. “What?”
“I can’t do relationships. I didn’t want things to escalate to this because I knew, I knew we’d have no future,” I explained while my gut twisted violently. “I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted this. You and I weren’t even supposed to be friends and then somehow, you became the most important person in my life and…” I shook my head, clearing my throat. “It’s better for both of us to just move on. You need to find someone who is good enough for you. Don’t settle for someone like me. I can’t give you what you need and I take full responsibility for us escalating to this point.”
She looked like she was struggling to keep it together. She wiped her eyes and then glared at me angrily.
“You’re so focused on not hurting me that you keep hurting me, Ro!” She took a couple of steps backward. “You’re being so fucking selfish right now. I asked you to let me talk and then to let me leave.” She shook her head and walked to the door.
I watched her, completely confused. My heart hurt, my chest felt like it was going to explode, and I didn’t know what the hell was going on in her head.
She wanted the truth from me so I gave it to her. It was so fucking hard to actually tell her that I’m in love with her, but I did it. For her. And now she’s freaking the fuck out.
“I’m selfish? I just did the most unselfish thing anyone could do!” I uttered through clenched teeth, feeling myself getting frustrated with her. I followed her to the door, leaving a few feet of space between us.
“I told you the truth! I told you that I’m in love with you because I mean it,” I burst out. With my emotions running high, the ache in my chest became a shooting pain. “But I also know myself enough to know that I can’t give you what you need. You deserve the best. You deserve better than me. Do you understand that?”
She backed away from me, swiping an angry tear from her eye. “Just admit that you’re doing this for you and not for me. Just admit it and we can be done with this.”
“I’m doing this for both of us. It’s in the best interest of both of us.”
The knot in my stomach was being pulled tighter each time she wiped a rogue tear that slipped down her face. Her shoulders were starting to tremble and I didn’t know if it was because she was angry or because she was trying not to break down and cry. I wanted to look away but I couldn’t.
God, I wish I could take the pain away from her.
“You don’t speak for me,” she spat, gripping the handle of the door so tightly her hand shook. “I determine what’s in my best interest. I determine what’s good enough for me. I make my own decisions, Roman.”
“Fine!” I exploded, causing her to flinch. “Fine! You’re right. I don’t want to get hurt. I don’t want to be in love. I don’t want to be in a relationship. It’s too risky for me to invest in people so I don’t and I won’t. Not again!”
She swung the heavy door open and gave me a withering stare. “So that’s it? You got hurt once and you’re done? You’re just going to walk away from this?”
“All the risks I need to take are in my art.”
She let out a puff of air. “So you don’t trust me.”
It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation.
“I guess not,” I snapped, narrowing my eyes at her. I ignored the fact that my heart was beating too fast and my breaths weren’t coming fast enough. My stomach was in knots and I felt like shit, but I wasn’t backing down.
We just glared at each other for a full minute, neither of us saying a word.
“If that’s the case, you are absolutely right. You don’t deserve me.”
Slamming the door on her way out, Bianca walked away from me.
I finally managed to push her away.
And the heartache set in.
_____
April: Isolation
“What?” I answered roughly.
Brad had called eleven times in a row.
“Malik and I are in the lobby and when the new receptionist said we weren’t on the approved list, I thought she was confused because she’s still being trained. But when we talked to Monroe, she also said we were removed from the approved list. I don’t know what the hell that’s about, but you’ll need to bring your ass down here and take us up yourself,” he replied.
I rolled over on the couch and covered my eyes with my forearm. “I have a better idea. Go home.”
“When was the last time you left from up there?”
“I’ve been busy. Working. Are we done here?”
“This is the first time you’ve picked up the phone in almost three weeks. I get that that’s your process, but when we talked to Bianca—”
I sat up. My heart instantly contracted at the mention of her name. “When did you talk to her?”
He hesitated. “Earlier this week. She…uh…she called when she was down here with the moving company,” he stammered, completely unlike him. “She told us to keep an eye on you and we hadn’t seen you in a while so...”
“Did she say anything else?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound as pathetic over the phone as I did in my own head.
“She wouldn’t talk about it. But whatever it is, man, she seemed broken up about it. I mean, you know B. She wasn’t crying or anything, but you could definitely see that she was hurting. Now let us up...”
So she’s really gone this time, I realized as Brad rambled on. My heart felt like it was rattling in my chest. Good. That’s good. Her being gone will make it easier. For both of us. She deserves the world and I want her to be happy. She’ll find someone…
Pain lanced through me at the thought of Bianca with someone else.
She’ll find someone that’ll make her happy. And I’ll…work.
“I just need to be left alone so I can work.”
“Come on, Roman. Just—”
I disconnected the call and powered off my phone.
_____
May: Anger
Sitting on the rolling stool, I looked at seven completely finished pieces for my collection. Six of the charcoal and paint abstract faces were heightened with flecks of foil painted into the work, giving the pieces more texture. I only added foil to six of them. The one of Bianca, I didn’t touch.
“Just do it,” I told myself, staring at Bianca’s face.
But for whatever reason, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t bring myself to touch that one. It was still too raw.
Feeling myself getting angry, I ripped my eyes away from the painting.
I warned her. I warned her that I’d hurt her and she just wouldn’t leave well enough alone. After what happened with Tia, I told myself and anyone who bothered to listen that I didn’t do relationships. I gave her fair warning. What did she expect? What did she think was going to happen? I told her that we couldn’t be anything. I told her that she deserved better. I told her that I wanted her to be happy.
Could I make her happy? Yeah, sure, temporarily. But then it would come crashing down. I’m not good enough for her. She deserves the world. I can’t give her the world. And I warned her about that! I warned her. But I can’t blame it completely on her, it’s my own fault. I knew better than to get close to her. I knew better than to let her in. I knew better and I still let it happen. I’m mad at her for not listening to me and I’m mad at myself for falling in love with her. Hell, I’m mad that we even became friends. When her job ended, that should’ve been the end of our communication.
I should not know that she is the funniest person I’ve ever met. I shouldn’t know that she is so sweet and generous. I shouldn’t know that her intellect wasn’t just limited to book smarts. I shouldn’t know that she prefers reading to watching T.V. I shouldn’t know that her body is perfect. I shouldn’t know her scent. I shouldn’t know how she tastes. I shouldn’t know how her body molds to mine. I shouldn’t know that we would be perfect together.
I stood up and let out a ferocious scream.
That’s better.
Shaking it off, I exhaled and headed over to the speakers to crank the music up. I needed to work out my anger on the canvas.
_____
June: Bargaining
“I’m glad you made it out,” Malik said, as we bumped shoulders to conclude our handshake.
“I told you when you came over last week, I’d be here,” I replied.
“Yeah, but… you know what, never mind. I’m just glad you’re here.”
While we waited for Brad, we ordered a couple of beers at the bar.
“So what’s new with you?” Malik asked, looking over at me.
“Nothing. Just working. Getting my life together, man.” I took a swig from the bottle. “What about you?”
“About the same. Just working. I am going to that concert at Brown’s Island.”
“That’s cool.”
“You should come. Coury’s friend who got us
the tickets will be there and she’s pretty hot.”
I shrugged it off, looking straight ahead. “The concert sounds cool. The lineup is dope. But I’m not really looking to meet anyone, but thanks.”
In the mirror behind the bar, I saw Malik nodding knowingly. We were both quiet for a minute before he asked, “You talk to her?”
Every night in my dreams.
“Not since she left the studio that day.”
“It’s been about two months, right?”
It’s actually been two and a half months, almost three since I made the biggest mistake of my life.
“Something like that.”
“Have you called her?”
Yes, but she changed her number.
I shrugged and took another sip. “What’s the point?”
“The point is to see how she’s doing. Let her know that you’re thinking about her. That you care.”
I tried, but the number has been disconnected.
The operator’s voice on the other end of Bianca’s number haunted me for days. I had no number, no forwarding address, nothing. I had no way to get in touch with her.
“She told me I was selfish for telling her I cared about her when I did. And she was right about everything she said. So me trying to talk to her is not going to change anything. I just want her to be happy. That’s why…” I trailed off and started drinking my beer.
That’s why I gave her up, I finished the thought in my head. I gave her up so that she could be happy.
“What?”
“Bianca is special. And whenever I start thinking that I made the biggest mistake of my life by letting her go, I remember myself being in that hotel room for two days. I remember how that felt and how I swore I’d never let that happen again.”
Bianca has the power to ruin me. And I can’t put myself in that position.
“Come on, man. That’s not the same. You had just gotten two huge pieces of bad news within minutes. And it sucked. But Bianca isn’t Tia.”
“That’s what makes it worse. I loved Tia. But whereas I thought Tia was The One, I know Bianca is.” I looked down at my bottle and then back up again. “And I can’t take that chance.”
Heartache Page 28
