The American Lover

by G E Griffin

  How could I possibly have done that? What kind of a person was I, that I could move on so easily and so shamelessly from someone I’d claimed was the love of my life? I felt sick, and as I felt the inevitable waves of panic rising up through me, I knew what was coming next.

  I leapt out of bed and rushed to the bathroom, locking the door behind me, making it to the toilet just in time to throw up the entire contents of my stomach.

  Once the heaving subsided, I leant back against the bathroom door and then slowly let myself slide down, ending up in a crumpled heap on the floor, and waited for the next phase to hit.

  The sobbing.

  That’s what always came next - deep painful sobs.

  I put my hand over my mouth and tried to cry quietly, so as not to disturb Caleb. Hopefully he’d dozed off in a post-coital slump. Poor man, he’d done nothing wrong, he’d only complied with my request to fuck my brains out, and he certainly didn't deserve to have all my crazy shit dumped on him. I just needed some time to pull myself together, before quietly slipping away and making my escape. Thank God Caleb was going back to the States and I wouldn’t have to face him again after this.

  But as the sobs wracked through me and the tears streamed down my face, I heard Caleb tapping on the door and calling out.

  “Are you alright in there, Faith?”

  I tried to take a couple of calming breaths to pull myself together, before I responded. Deep slow breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Calm down, let the panic ebb away. That was the theory, anyhow.

  “Sure, yes, I’ll be out in a minute,” I called back, my voice still sounding wobbly and odd despite my best efforts. “Just go back to bed.”

  “Are you weirding out on me in there? Can you please open this door, Faith?” He rattled the handle impatiently.

  “Just leave me be, Caleb. I’ll be fine.” My voice broke as another sob escaped.

  “Faith, just open this fucking door, or so help me God I’m gonna have to smash it down.” Caleb hammered on the door in frustration.

  “You don't have to get involved, Caleb. That wasn’t part of our deal. This isn’t your problem,” I said quietly.

  “Come on, I thought we were friends. You know, I do a great line in comforting hugs, as well as amazing sex, and it all comes as part of the same deal. And I'd hate for you to be short-changed. So get yourself out here, Faith Jackson. Right now,” he demanded.

  In spite of everything, I found myself smiling. What was it with this guy? Why was he bothering with me and all my mad shit? I’d have thought he’d want nothing more than to see the back of me as quickly as possible. But the thought of being wrapped up in his arms in a big comforting hug right now was very, very appealing. Usually, when these suffocating waves of panic and despair and desolation swept over me, I rode them out on my own. But Caleb was here, and it seemed he wasn’t going anywhere. And really, I had no option other than to face him, seeing as he was right there on the other side of the door I was leaning against.

  “Okay. Just give me a minute.”

  “You have exactly one minute. Then I’m coming in, locked door or not,” he warned.

  I pushed myself up off the floor and shakily stood to run a bowl of cold water. I looked in the mirror and saw this dreadful mess looking back at me. A haunted, crazy, fucked up mess, that was me. I splashed the cold water on my face, knowing it was going to take a hell of a lot more than that to fix me.

  “Come on, Faith. Your minute’s just about up,” Caleb called through the door.

  I grabbed one of the fluffy robes that was hanging on the back of the door and wrapped myself up in it. It was way too big, but at least it covered up my nakedness and restored a little of my dignity. I’d just stay a few minutes until I could gather up my things, and then slink off to get myself back into some semblance of normality.

  I took a deep breath, unlocked the door and stepped out.

  Chapter 6 - Caleb

  Stupidly, because she’d been so sexually confident with me, I’d thought Faith was handling everything pretty well.

  Although having sex had been her suggestion, I’d still taken things very cautiously, checking she still wanted to go ahead when we got to my room, and if she’d wanted to back out at that point, it would have been fine with me. I’ve never coerced a lady into having sex, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to start with someone like Faith, although I was fast learning that her apparently shy, quiet demeanor was somewhat misleading.

  Even so, I was still shocked when she reacted to my concern by telling me to just get on with fucking her brains out.

  But I got where she was coming from. I understood that she just wanted to escape everything by immersing herself in physical pleasure, to try and numb the painful memories. I understood, because I’d spent a lot of time trying to do exactly that since my marriage had fallen apart.

  And I was very pleasantly surprised to discover that Faith had been concealing an awesomely sexy body beneath those unflattering clothes of hers, and that, combined with her unexpectedly sassy attitude, meant the sex between us had ended up being pretty full on amazing.

  So I’d thought we were all good when we were lying together afterwards. But when Faith suddenly leapt out of bed and bolted for the bathroom, I figured it wasn’t a good sign. I waited a few minutes for her to come back out, but when she didn’t, I quickly pulled on my sweats, before listening at the door to make sure she was okay.

  She wasn’t.

  It was heart breaking listening to the muffled sobs she was trying to hide. Why did she feel she had to do that? She’d warned me she didn't know how she was going to react, and I’d thought she trusted me enough to let me help her through this. Instead, she was shutting me out, and I had to try and coax her to come back out, in the end resorting to threatening to break down the door before she eventually opened it.

  “Oh Faith honey, come here,” I whispered, shaken by how broken she looked. As I carefully wrapped her up in a big hug and gently rocked her, all I wanted was somehow to try to make her pain go away, to make her feel better.

  “I'm so sorry about this. I really hoped it wasn’t going to happen, that I wouldn’t react this way,” she mumbled against my chest. “But don’t worry, I’ll be alright in a minute, then I’ll be on my way to leave you in peace.”

  “No, you won’t. No fucking way am I allowing you to go home to brood all on your own. Just come back and lie on the bed with me. Talk to me about what’s going on in your head,” I insisted, handing her some Kleenex to wipe her eyes.

  How the hell could she possibly think I’d just let her walk out of here, the state she was in? Did she really think I was the kind of shallow douche who’d happily take the sex, then be able to settle down for a good night’s sleep after seeing her like this?

  I led her back over to lie on the bed, and then lay down next to her, gently scooping her into my arms.

  “That’s it. Just let yourself relax. I’m guessing you’ve had this kind of reaction before?” I wanted to encourage her to talk, not shut herself off, as I was certain this was a pivotal moment for her, and I was very aware that things could go either way. How I handled things right now could make all the difference to Faith being able to move forward in her life. If I made her feel like a freak, she might not have the confidence to try again, and having come this far, and being the only person with an inside track into the state of her mind, I felt a responsibility to at least stick with her for the rest of the night. I could give her that much, couldn’t I?

  “Come on, talk to me about what’s going on here with you,” I prompted.

  Finally, she started talking.

  “Something like this happens every time I feel as if I’m losing another little piece of Drew, every time I manage to move on in some small way. I tried to convince myself this reaction would have lessened after two years, but in reality I should have known that having sex with someone other than Drew was always going to be a huge deal for me,” she sighed shakil
y.

  “That makes sense, Faith. You clearly loved your husband a great deal,” I murmured.

  “Yes, I did. You know, I cried every day for over a year after he died. Every single day, sometimes for hours on end. Eventually I must have run out of tears, because they finally started drying up. And then the first time I got through a day without crying at all, this terrible, all consuming guilt hit me. How could I be so heartless and unfeeling to have got over Drew so quickly? How come I hadn't died of a broken heart, like you hear about people doing? At my lowest point, I seriously considered ending it all, because life didn't seem worth living without him. It was only my family that kept me going. I just couldn’t do something like that to them.”

  “You’ve had a really tough time, haven’t you?” I gently stroked her hair, concealing my shock at her confession that she’d contemplated suicide. I wanted to ask if she’d had any kind of professional counseling, but didn't want to interrupt now that she was opening up to me.

  “Yeah, but I’m not the only one, am I? It was awful for Drew’s parents, too. He was their only child, and no parent should ever have to go through their son dying before them, but I was no help to them. Those first few weeks after the accident passed in a kind of a blur. I wasn’t in any kind of a fit state to cope, I wasn’t capable, so I just let my dad take over and handle everything for me.”

  “It must have been a terrible time for you,” I sympathized, hugging her to me tightly.

  “They said Drew was killed instantly when a massive articulated lorry pulled out in front of him - he never stood a chance on his motorbike. But I keep thinking how he must have had a few seconds of sheer terror when he realized what was going to happen and that there was nothing he could do about it, so how must that have felt for him? My parents tried to shield me and advised me against seeing his body because he was so horrifically injured - but it meant I never got a chance to say goodbye to him, never got to hold his hand for one last time. I don't remember anything about the funeral, because I was numb, in shock, refusing to believe it was actually happening. So it feels as if Drew left me, because he just walked out of the door one day and never came back. Our last conversation before he left for work that morning was me nagging him about how untidy he was for not clearing up one stupid dirty plate and cup. Nothing about how much I loved him, what he meant to me, that he was my whole world.”

  “Faith, don't beat yourself up about that. No question, Drew knew how much you loved him, and you know how much he loved you, so nothing else matters, not stupid everyday things like nagging him about dirty dishes,” I said to try and ease her guilt.

  Hell, what was worse? Faith would never get to see her husband again, but she did at least have the comfort of knowing he’d never cheated on her, and so her memories were pure and unsullied. Cassie might be alive and kicking, but she’d cheated and lied for most of our marriage, so it had been nothing more than a big fat sham. She certainly wouldn’t have cried for even one day if anything had happened to me. But I kept these thoughts to myself - they weren’t of any help to Faith, especially as I didn't want to sidetrack her from talking about her feelings.

  “It’s the constant reliving of it. Waking up in the morning, and having those few seconds of peace, before cold reality comes crashing back down all over again. You can't believe that the world just carries on. The clock ticks, the newsreader drones on about the latest world events, and all you want to do is scream that the person you loved more than life itself is dead, so how can everything possibly carry on as normal? But the post still drops through the letter box, the birds still sing and the flowers still bloom. How? Why? Shouldn't the world have stopped turning?

  “And then there are the vivid dreams. Dreams where I rant at Drew for leaving me, and he tells me over and over again how sorry he is. Is that him reaching out to me from the other side? Or just my overactive imagination acting out what I want to say to him?”

  “The mind can certainly play tricks,” I murmured.

  “Oh, it most certainly can. Like hearing a bike or car pull up and just for a second thinking ‘Oh there’s Drew home.’ But of course it isn’t. Then there’s getting post addressed to him and putting it to one side so he can open it when he gets home. But he never will. He used to whistle a lot of the time, which drove me crazy. Now I'd give anything to hear his stupid tuneless whistling.”

  “I know there’s nothing I can say that will really help you here, Faith. I know it’s a cliché about time being a great healer, but it’s the only option, other than giving up. And you know that isn’t what Drew would have wanted for you. You have to somehow find a way to live your life for him, for both of you, so you don't throw away the memories of all those wonderful times you did share together.”

  “I know you’re right, Caleb. Truly I do, and truly I am trying to move forward, which is why I’m here with you tonight. And I know from all the previous times this kind of thing has happened, that I will get through it, and next time it will be just a little easier, so I have to keep going. But sometimes I don’t think I have the energy, because it’s just so incredibly exhausting.”

  “I know, baby. I know. And you’re doing really well, you’ve been so brave. Just let it all go for now and rest.”

  I felt her relaxing in my arms, and as her breathing gradually slowed I realized she was drifting off to sleep. I gently shifted so I could pull the cover over us and switched off the nightlight.

  ***

  “Oh crap!” Faith’s muttered curse woke me up the following morning.

  I turned to see her sitting on the edge of the bed, still dressed in the huge bathrobe that swamped her small frame. She was studying her cell, which I guessed she must have retrieved from the purse which was on the bed next to her.

  “What’s the matter?” I did my best to wake up and quickly get my head together, as I glanced at the clock and saw that it had just turned seven. It seemed we’d slept the night together peacefully after all the highs and lows - talk about a roller coaster of a night.

  “My mum and sisters have all been going crazy trying to get hold of me since yesterday evening, but I didn't check my phone after I put it on silent when I first got here,” she explained, as she furiously tapped out a text message. “So I’m just putting their minds at rest by explaining I haven’t been answering because I had an early night and was fast asleep in bed, which is kind of true. They don't need to know I wasn’t alone.”

  “Faith honey, you do accept that we are two consenting adults who’ve done nothing wrong, and that you have no reason whatsoever to feel guilty in any way?” I tried to reassure her.

  She paused from what she was doing to glance up at me.

  “Yeah, I do know that, Caleb” she smiled.

  “But having said that, I guess it’s probably wiser in this instance to keep this just between ourselves, otherwise, it could lead to all sorts of awkward questions, which you probably wouldn’t feel comfortable answering right now. What’s the big deal anyway, why are they so desperate to get in touch with you?” Faith was hardly a teenager out past her curfew was she?

  “They’re all on high alert, worried about me because of what’s happening today,” she frowned as she concentrated on the screen of her cell.

  “I’m sorry, but you’ve lost me. What's happening today?” I asked.

  Faith stopped what she was doing to look up at me. Those pretty, soft denim blue eyes stared at my face, worked their way down my naked chest, then continued further downwards. I wasn’t embarrassed, but it was probably just as well that my lower half was covered up, seeing as I was undergoing my usual morning function check.

  “Wow. You look really good in the morning,” she commented as she raised her eyebrows. It was a pretty neat reaction, but I was still confused.

  “Thanks, but I don't exactly get what the problem is with your family?”

  “Sorry. You have such a great body that it distracted me. Well, the thing is, whenever my family can't get hold of me,
they worry I might be shutting myself away, sinking into a pit of depression again. And they’re being extra vigilant at the moment, because today we’re meeting up to choose bridesmaids’ dresses for my sister’s wedding later this year, and they’re worried all the wedding talk will push me over the edge, bring back too many painful memories,” she explained.

  “I see. And will it?”

  “It very easily could, but I just can't let that happen. My family have their own lives to lead, and I can't hold them back. Bryony’s already had her wedding on hold for over a year because of me, and that’s not fair, is it? She’s been in a quandary, thinking she can’t get married and not ask me to be one of her bridesmaids, but worried that if she does, it’ll upset me. So I'm doing everything I can to convince them all that I'm fine about it, which I am, because I really want Bryony and Alec to get married and be happy.”

  “You have a very caring family by the sound of things,” I commented.

  “Yes, I do, and I love them all dearly, but…” she hesitated.

  “But?”

  “In order to protect them, I have to put up a shield to cover up how I'm really feeling a lot of the time. It’s not fair to keep dragging them down with my problems and issues, because making them feel bad doesn’t help me in any way, and it’s really not constructive. Funny thing is, I hardly know you, yet I’ve felt more able to be honest about how I'm feeling with you, so I guess your sympathetic stranger theory has some merit to it. Sorry for weirding out so badly on you last night, and thank you for letting me dump it all on you. You were a fantastic help, you do know that, Caleb?”

  She reached over and squeezed my hand as she smiled at me gratefully. The look on her sweet little face made me really glad I'd gotten her to stay the night, and the thought that maybe I was in some small part responsible for that lovely smile was surprisingly gratifying.

  “No big deal. I told you I was a good listener. That, and dishing out one of my special deluxe hugs was all I did. And I hope I'm not so much of a stranger now either. Like I told you, I prefer to think of us as friends,” I smiled.