Stay With Me

by E. R. Wade

  “Baby, she likes you. She’s happy we’re together.”

  “She’s my boss, Julian.”

  We’ve had this conversation before, and I know I’m not going to be able to convince her to relax around Nadya.

  “She won’t know we’re together.”

  “She has an idea of your schedule.”

  “So? That doesn’t mean she knows where I am all the time.”

  “Julian, I can leave at five.”

  Sofia can be stubborn when she wants to be.

  “That won’t work,” I tell her.

  “That’s the best I can do.”

  I’m trying not to let my exasperation show when she continues. “It’s not just Nadya. People may put two and two together and they’ll come up with four. We’re going to be absent from the office at the same time.”

  Is she fucking serious? All right . . . I am going to be reasonable about this. “So any time two people are out of the office at the same time, we should assume they’re together?” She doesn't answer me. “When Gina went to the dentist last week and I was also out of the office, does it mean I was with her?”

  She doesn’t like the question. She narrows her eyes at me. “How do you know she was at the dentist?”

  Seriously? She’s seriously asking me that? “It’s in the group calendar. Any other questions about her?” I ask with a meaningful look.

  “No.” She looks contrite but I can tell she still isn’t pleased with me for mentioning Gina. She knows the deal with Gina. She’s not interested in me. She’s just friendly and she’s still hung up on her ex-boyfriend.

  “So you’ll tell Nadya?” I ask hopefully.

  “Julian . . . I’ll leave the office at five.”

  I look away from her and towards the window. There are no clouds out. It’s getting late and I’ll have to take her home soon. I’m not looking forward to being apart from her. I wish she would sleep over. I don’t like that we feel like we have to hide what we have. I want to be with her, much more than she realizes. This weekend is important. I turn back to her.

  “I understand why you’re feeling reluctant, so I’ll tell her myself.”

  She bolts up from my legs. “What? Julian, don’t you dare!”

  “If you don’t tell her, I will. One of us has to since the time is non-negotiable,” I say calmly.

  “You can’t do that.”

  “You know I will. It’ll take nothing from me, and she’ll be happy for us. Honestly, she’s likely to give me some advice on how to make the weekend good for you.” I’m still sounding casual and calm, but Sofia is looking anything but calm.

  “I won’t go,” she blurts out.

  “Of course you will.”

  “No, I won’t.” She has on a stubborn expression.

  “This is ridiculous. Are we actually going to fight about this?”

  She shrugs and says, “Your choice.”

  I grit my teeth, annoyed. “Fine. Have it your way.”

  “Thank you.” She takes a deep breath. “I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

  I can’t stop myself from laughing and feeling relieved. “So what was that about?”

  “I don’t want to tell her but I will. Better me than you. And I really, really want to spend the weekend with you.”

  I touch her cheek and lean forward to kiss her. “I really, really want to spend the weekend with you too.” I kiss her sweet lips again. “Besides, I wasn’t going to give up.”

  “Oh . . . What were you going to do?”

  “I would have scheduled a series of system upgrades to be done on Friday and Saturday so everyone would have had to leave the office by two.”

  “Really? You’d have done that?” She looks surprised. Perhaps she’s just grasping how much I really want to have her all to myself this weekend.

  “Of course,” I say.

  After taking Sofia home, I come back to my apartment. It feels different. Anytime she leaves my apartment back to hers, I feel like my apartment is empty. It would be great if she was living here. This isn’t the first time the thought has crossed my mind and I know it’s a really great idea. I’d get to sleep beside her every night. She wouldn’t just be the first thing I think about when I wake up and last thing I think about before I fall asleep anymore, she would be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night.

  Could I really ask her to move in with me considering everything that is going on right now? It wouldn’t be fair to her, and anyway, she’ll very likely say no. I am beyond desperate to resolve my marital situation. The fact that it may start to take a serious toll on my relationship with Sofia bothers me. I never want to lose her and certainly not over my dead marriage. There is no doubt in my mind that I want a future with her.

  Thinking back to our conversation earlier tonight, it bothers me that Sofia isn’t comfortable with Nadya knowing about us. I try not to press the issue because I know her major concern is that my divorce is still hanging in the air. It would be naive of me to assume that our colleagues don’t know, or at least suspect, that we are together even though we keep it professional at work. I imagine that they are respecting our privacy since we haven’t gone public with our relationship.

  I asked Sofia last week to come to dinner with me at Nadya and David’s home. She refused. She said she wasn’t ready. I could have tried harder to convince her but I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable all through dinner. So I went alone, and I missed her, which added to my growing frustration with Addison. I just can’t shake the feeling that she remembers everything but is pretending not to.

  I don’t want Sofia to get tired of waiting for me. Her being with me makes me delirious with happiness but it also weighs on me. The problem is that I don’t know how I’m going to make Addison come clean and sign the divorce papers. She doesn’t want money. She just wants more of my time. Time which I’m not willing to give. Giving her that would mean the end of Sofia and me, and if I have my way, that will never happen.

  My phone buzzes in my hand. I look down at it and I see I have a text from Addison.

  Her: I miss you.

  I reread the text unsure of how to respond to it. I don’t think it’s right to ignore it so I text back.

  Me: How are you?

  She responds immediately, ignoring my question.

  Her: When will you come over?

  I saw her at her family home in San Jose on Monday, two days ago, but since I plan to spend Friday to Sunday with Sofia, it means that I’ll have to make time tomorrow to see her. I’m reluctant to go but if it somehow helps with her recovery, I‘m going to drive down to see her every day. She has to get better and start living her life fully, for both our sakes.

  Me: I’ll see you tomorrow

  Unfortunately, I still haven’t shaken the niggling suspicion I have about her amnesia. I never used to think of her as being duplicitous until six months into our marriage. When I took my vows, I meant them, every single one of them. It’s a damn shame that she didn’t.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Sofia

  On Friday, I leave the office and take a taxi back to my apartment. Julian and I agreed that he’ll going to meet me at home. By the time I get there, he’s already waiting for me.

  A few minutes after I got to work this morning, I asked Nadya if I could get off early. She said yes without looking up at me. So all my worrying last night was for nothing.

  It was almost impossible to think of anything else besides my impending weekend with Julian. My excitement is palpable. I can hardly wait. As soon as it was time, I was out the door in a flash.

  My weekend bag is already packed. I just need to change out of my work clothes and into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

  “We’re not going far, just to Half Moon Bay. Ever been there?” Julian asks as we make our way slowly out of the city.

  “No, but I hear it’s lovely.”

  “It is. I went a few years ago with my sister and a couple of friends. I’ve always wanted
to go back. You’ll like it.” He brings my hand up for a kiss. He hasn’t let go of my hand since we got into the car.

  Half Moon Bay is a charming coastal town with lots of natural beauty. The drive takes us roughly an hour.

  Julian reserved a beautiful suite in a luxury ocean front resort. The suite has a spacious living room decorated in shades of warm gray and cream tones. I glance around the living room, and I see it has floor-to-ceiling windows and a private terrace with a fire pit. A state of the art entertainment center and a huge flat screen TV face the couch. There’s a bottle of champagne and two flutes on the dining table. Everything looks lovely.

  Immediately I enter into the bedroom, the first things I notice are the vases of red roses and the rose petals on the king-size bed.

  “Julian, it’s beautiful.”

  From behind, he wraps his arms around my waist and nuzzles my neck. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I do,” I tell him, leaning into him.

  “Do you surf or play golf?”

  “No to both. I never learned to surf and I find golf boring.”

  “That’s okay. We’re going to spend as much time as possible in the suite this weekend.” He grins at me.

  “Sounds like a plan,” I say, chuckling at his words.

  “I made a reservation for you at the spa tomorrow. I know you like art so we can explore some of the art galleries tomorrow evening.”

  “We can go surfing in the morning.”

  “Would you like to?” He can’t quite keep the hopefulness out of his voice.

  “Yeah. I may not be able to surf but I’d love to watch you.” From what Julian’s told me over the last few weeks, he likes surfing but doesn’t get to go to the beach as often as he’d like so there’s no way I’m going to deny him that.

  He grins. “That would be great.”

  The next few hours are spent in our suite, specifically on the bed. We order sandwiches from room service and wash it down with the champagne.

  At night, we enjoy a late dinner at an oceanfront restaurant where each ingredient is fresh and locally sourced. After dinner, we go for a walk on the beach. It’s been a magical day so far.

  We’re at the beach early the next morning. I lie on the beach towel provided by the hotel and watch Julian surf. This is my first time seeing him surf. He looks magnificent. I don’t think I can ever get tired of looking at him. He obviously loves the water. I regret not paying attention when Wes tried to teach me when I was much younger. I was always toppling over and I gave up. I know I gave up too easily but I was content with just knowing how to swim. I really should have tried harder.

  Julian joins me on the sand and we lie together for some time before going back to our suite. I have my spa appointment and Julian is going to head to the golf course for a couple of hours then we’ll meet back at the room.

  After having a relaxing massage and Julian’s had a round of golf, we decide to have lunch in a seafood restaurant in town, away from the resort, and after lunch we browse through the shops and art galleries.

  Sometime before eleven p.m., we order champagne, crackers and marshmallows from room service. We roast the marshmallows over the fire pit on our terrace and make s’mores. Sitting snug in his arms, he answers all my questions willingly, he tells me a lot about his life and we talk a little about the future. We sit out there till the early hours of the morning talking about nothing and everything with the relaxing sounds of the ocean waves crashing in the background.

  We wake up too late to go surfing and we end up having a late breakfast by the beach. We stroll hand in hand on the beach until we find a spot to sit. I’m sitting between his legs and wrapped up in his arms. We’re both silent, each lost in our thoughts. I’m thinking about how I could stay here forever with him. I can’t tell what he’s thinking but I think whatever it is, it’s happy thoughts.

  “I can’t wait to take you on a proper vacation.”

  “This entire getaway has been perfect. I’ve had the best time ever. Thank you.” I reach up and kiss him.

  It’s early evening and we’re on our way back home when I realize that not once did I think about all the things that have been bothering me. It’s like I left it all behind me on Friday. I didn’t think it was possible.

  When we get to my apartment, Julian helps me take my bag upstairs. We’re standing in my living room. He’s holding me in his arms and my head is on his chest. I can hear the steady beat of his heart. He doesn’t want to leave. I don’t want him to either but I don’t ask him to stay.

  “I’ll call you later,” he says against my hair.

  I nod, unable to utter a word. If I open my mouth, I’m sure the words that would come out would be me begging him to stay.

  He lifts my chin and looks into my eyes for a moment before kissing me gently on my lips. And the next thing I know, he’s out the door.

  I stare at my closed door and I wonder why I didn’t ask him to stay the night.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Addison

  Since I woke up from the coma, I’ve learnt an important lesson – making plans with Julian never works out the way I want. Actually, there’s a second important lesson I’ve learnt. Being optimistic where he’s concerned is a sure way to get my heart broken.

  Clark, dad’s chauffeur and bodyguard, is standing by the black Rolls-Royce Phantom watching me closely. Of course, he’s under strict orders from my parents not to let me out of his sight. I can’t complain because at least I won the battle to leave the house without a nurse in tow.

  I dial Julian’s number. He picks up just as I was thinking it would go to voicemail.

  “Addison.” Always polite but never friendly. That’s what the new Julian is all about. Today, I don’t care. I want to scream at him about our house, and I want to do it while he’s standing in front of me.

  “I need to see you. I’m at Rhyen Park. Can you come now?” I sound upset.

  “I’m busy, Addison. What do you want?” He doesn’t care that I am obviously upset.

  “I need to speak to you. Surely you can spare a few minutes for your wife,” I say bitterly, stressing the word ‘wife’ probably more than necessary.

  “This better be important. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  I hang up, too upset. How could he sell our home? Didn’t it mean anything to him?

  The minutes feel like hours. Today is a gorgeous day to have a picnic, and I envy the carefree couples sitting on blankets and feeding themselves. I wish Julian and I could go back to the way we were.

  He finds me on the park bench I’ve been sitting on since I got here.

  “Addison,” he says in greeting, not bothering to sit down.

  “How could you?” I ask angrily, not bothering to return his greeting.

  “How could I what?” He looks puzzled. He has no idea what I’m asking him.

  “You sold the house,” I say. Anger, hurt and accusation are rife in my voice.

  “Which house?”

  “Our house.” I almost scream at him.

  The puzzled expression morphs into a cold one but I don’t heed it. I can’t believe he sold the house we painstakingly and lovingly made into our home.

  “How do you know I sold it?” he asks slowly, his voice as hard as steel.

  “I went there to look for you.” I don’t dare mention the private investigator – an old buddy of Clark’s – I hired last week informed me that he doesn’t live there anymore but in an apartment building. Unfortunately, the investigator failed to let me know that the house now belongs to someone else. “I thought we could talk without anyone around.”

  “Fuck! Addison. I swore I’d never let you fool me again but yet here I am. You’ve outdone yourself this time.”

  Now it’s my turn to look puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

  “How long has this charade been going on?”

  “What charade?” What is he talking about? I don’t have the patience for this. I want answers. I des
erve answers. And I want him to buy back our house from whoever he sold it to.

  “Come on, Addison. Stop playing dumb. It has never suited you.”

  “Julian, will you please tell me what you’re talking about.” I’m exasperated, and extremely upset about the house. Seeing strangers living in my home took me by surprise and I’m still in turmoil, and also worried that Julian could easily get rid of something we both created memories in.

  “How come you remember the house?” His icy blue eyes are staring at me, waiting for my answer.

  And with that question, I realize I’ve just made a mistake. I was so eager to go to our home and reminisce about the times when we were happy that I forgot that he bought the house after we got married. I can’t believe I was planning to get him to come over and seduce him here as the next step to get our relationship back on track.

  He sees my face pale at his question. He knows. How do I get out of this? I decide to go with the truth. I can’t see any way I can talk myself out of it.

  “I remember when you showed me the house and we were both excited about it. I remember the plans we had. I remember decorating it. I remember when we christened the living room, on the floor. I remember how you made love to me in every room of our home. Our home, Julian.”

  His hands are clenched into fists. “You heartless bitch.” I flinch at his cruel words. He doesn’t need to raise his voice. I hear the anger and what could be disgust in those three words. I may not know the new Julian in front of me but I am certain that he will not raise a finger against me in anger. “Do your parents know your memory is back?”

  “No. No one knows,” I admit.

  “What kind of person are you?” His voice is laced with anger and disbelief.

  I am not apologizing for this. “The kind of person who made a mistake and wants a chance to fix it. I want to undo some of the things I did in the last year of our marriage. I want my husband back, and I was desperate.”

  “And your solution is to pretend to have amnesia?” he asks incredulously. “Tell me, how long were you going to keep this up?”

  “As long as it would have taken for you to forgive me and give our marriage another chance.”