Exposed (Free Falling)

by Raven St. Pierre

  Fine by me; I needed time to think anyway.

  “Goodnight,” he announced, followed by the sound of my door slamming behind him.

  I lay in bed alone and awake, still thinking over the convenient story Jason told me. It may very well have been the truth, but I still wasn’t as settled as I wished I was about it.

  When I flipped over onto my back I didn’t bother to straighten the sheets tangled around my legs. I stared at the ceiling and let my thoughts shift to someone else, wondering what he was doing instead of wondering if I’d hurt Jason’s feelings. This would be AJ’s second night sleeping beneath the same blanket of stars that we’d always shared, but now he was sleeping a little closer than before. I knew Kira wasn’t able to move here with him yet – something about her job. That left me wondering if he was lonely.

  Frustrated?

  Bored?

  Under typical circumstances, it would’ve been nice to be able to give him a tour of the city, teach him how to get around on the subway, show him all the good places to eat, stuff like that. However, there was no appropriate way for me to reach out.

  I couldn’t continue to deny that a small part of me did want to contact him, though. Not to get anything started…just to talk. Now that I knew that we were capable of getting along, it seemed weird to pretend like I didn’t know he was in town. But that’s basically what I’d have to do.

  It sucked, but I’d learn to deal with it…eventually.

  Chapter Nine

  AJ

  I didn’t even bother closing the door behind me when I rushed into the loft with a visual of where I’d left my laptop beside the air mattress in the bedroom. The sound of my footsteps ricocheted off the walls as I made my way down the hallway. The laptop bag was hanging on a hook in the closet. I grabbed it and started winding the charger to pack it away. As soon as I put it in the front pocket, Kira’s ringtone blared from inside my suit jacket.

  “Hey,” I answered in a huff, trying to hurry so I could get back to the office before lunch was over. Granted, I was technically the boss, but I was trying to lead by example and be in my office in the timespan of an hour like I’d allotted for the twenty employees that I was now in charge of.

  “You sound busy. I assumed you’d be getting lunch,” Kira said in response to my being out of breath.

  “Uh…technically I am, but stupid me forgot my laptop this morning and I need some files off of it.”

  “Oh, I see. Are you okay to talk, or –“

  “Yeah, I’m good. How’s your day?” I answered, continuing to rush around.

  She exhaled first. “Fine. Just missing you.”

  Hearing that slowed my pace a little and I smiled. “I miss you too.” These phone calls weren’t quite doing it, but we set ourselves on a schedule already. Because both of our morning routines left little time for chatting, we talked through lunch Monday, Tuesday, and now on Wednesday. Then at night, we’d watch a show or two together, conversing about the drama via phone. It was almost like watching them side by side like we would’ve done at home.

  Almost.

  I zipped my bag and took a moment to think, making sure I wasn’t forgetting anything else. When I did, I spotted my phone charger plugged in beneath the window, deciding to grab that too. In D.C., I was used to utilizing the one in my car on my way to work, but now that I was taking cabs back and forth, I often found myself with less than ten percent battery life – like now. On cue the call failed and the phone shut off. I cursed loudly to myself and let out a deep breath. This day was already off to a terrible start. I bent to snatch the charger from the wall and glanced out the window when I stood upright to rush toward the door…but when I did, I froze in place. I could’ve sworn I saw a familiar face amidst the crowd, grabbing a smoothie from the kiosk down at the sidewalk. My mouth hung open as I watched Giuseppe take her cash and then flash her a smile.

  Without thinking, I dropped my things on the air mattress and tore through the entrance of my loft, taking the stairs in twos.

  What am I doing?

  Why am I even chasing her?

  What am I gonna say to her when I get down there?

  None of these questions got answered, or even mattered, to be quite honest. Clearly, I had a one-track mind.

  “Strawberry banana smoothie for you this morning?” Giuseppe asked with a grin, remembering my order from last time.

  I ignored his question and pointed down the street in the direction that I thought Sam had just walked off in. Out of breath, I asked, “The woman who was just here – brown-skinned, longish brown hair, tight black dress….did she walk that way?” I asked, noting the air of desperation in my tone.

  Giuseppe seemed confused and I tried not to let the dumbfounded look on his face frustrate me. When the expression turned into a smile, I knew he now understood who I was talking about.

  “Ohhhh……yes, she went that way.” Relief washed over me and I was only able to take one step when he added, “…but you’ll never catch her. She’s fast, that one.”

  I placed my hands on the metal counter of his booth and braced myself. “She comes here often?” I asked, out of breath from letting myself get all worked up.

  He smiled bright again. “Yes! Every Wednesday. Same time. Like clockwork.”

  When he said this, I remembered this being something that he’d shared with me my first day here. There was no way in hell I would’ve known then that he was talking about Sam, though.

  “Every Wednesday?” I asked.

  Giuseppe nodded to confirm.

  “Same time?”

  Another nod.

  Now my heart rate slowed as I continued to stare off into the sea of pedestrians, hoping to get another glimpse of her. But he was right, she was already gone. I turned to Giuseppe again. “Could you do me a favor?”

  He nodded and watched curiously as I dug inside my pocket for a $5 bill. “The next time she comes by here, let her know that her drink was already paid for, and hand her this.”

  I scribbled my phone number on a napkin. Giuseppe didn’t have to wonder why. The smile on his face grew as he accepted the cash, and the napkin, sticking it beneath the counter. I don’t know why, but I trusted that he’d carry out my plan just like I’d asked him to.

  “Of course,” he promised, as I turned to head back inside to retrieve the things I’d abandoned on my bed.

  Climbing the steps, I shook my head at myself, realizing that I was doing this the hard way. If I really wanted to talk to her so bad, which I clearly couldn’t deny any longer, I could’ve just asked Terrell for her number. After all, if I did it that way, I’d be able to contact her tonight rather than waiting a week and leaving the ball in Sam’s court instead of my own. However, I know her. She’d always appreciated the subtle ways that the universe used to go about making us aware of the others’ existence. To me, this – forgetting my laptop that morning, my phone dying, seeing her pass right beneath my window in one of the largest cities in the world – seemed like another one of those moments.

  Did I take this as some cosmic sign that we were supposed to be together? No, of course not. But I do believe that us not having contact at all isn’t in the stars for us either. If I knew Sam, she’d felt the same pull that I had since I got into town Saturday. Playing with fire or not, I’d already made up my mind that I’d be talking to her at some point….even though I’d just promised Kira this wouldn’t happen.

  Still, for whatever reason, I couldn’t seem to convince myself that I was making a mistake.

  *****

  Sam

  “This happened when?” Dr. Gill asked, taking notes.

  “Sunday night.”

  “What was his explanation?” she asked.

  I shook my head and let my gaze drift out the window, sipping my drink before replying. “He said that she’s a client. She flirts with him and makes passes, but he ignores it…or so he says.”

  “You don’t think he’s telling you the truth?”

&nb
sp; Her question weighed heavy on my heart. Honestly, I did trust Jason for the most part, but for some reason I had my suspicions about him lately. Be it women’s intuition of something else, I just couldn’t shake the feeling that he was keeping something from me. “I really don’t know for sure. I’d like to say that I believe him, but…I suppose part of me doesn’t.”

  She made another note and looked up with surprise in her eyes when I offered up information without her having to pry it out of me.

  “Is it possible that I want to think he’s cheating on me?” When I met Dr. Gill’s gaze she stared curiously.

  “That’s an interesting question. What makes you ask that?”

  I shrugged, running off a list to myself inside my head – subconsciously wanting to put distance between us sexually, avoiding the pressure of Jason wanting to live together…the fact that I’ve been spending an ungodly amount of my time thinking about AJ lately. Instead of giving her my reasons, I replied, “Just a thought that crossed my mind.”

  She removed her glasses and set them aside on the end table. “Samantha…if you don’t want to be in your relationship anymore, you don’t need an excuse. You do know that, right?”

  I didn’t respond, just sipped my smoothie and stared out the window.

  Her next statement caught me off guard. “I’ve had patients in the past who’ve stayed in relationships to prove to themselves that they didn’t have commitment issues. Your past with your ex may have you second guessing your integrity when it comes to relationships. Do you ever find yourself being passive with Jason instead of standing up and speaking your mind?”

  I thought about it. “No. Actually, it’s quite the opposite. I’ve been on the defensive lately. Not all the time, but the second Jason does something that I’d normally just talk through with him, I go from zero to sixty…almost like I’m trying to pick a fight with him.”

  She left me in silence for a moment while she thought.

  “What about the ex moving here? Has that happened yet?” She asked, jumping subjects – something that I usually did in our sessions, not her.

  “He’s here,” I said flatly, trying to mask any and all emotion from my tone. “Why?”

  “Has there been any contact?” She asked next, ignoring my question.

  “No, and there probably won’t be.”

  “I’m gonna say for the thousandth time, I think that needs to change. If there’s some truth to what you asked, you need to determine what’s at the root of you sabotaging your relationship.”

  She saw me cringe at the word ‘sabotage’.

  “That’s basically what you asked me, Samantha – ‘Dr. Gill, is it possible that I want to think my boyfriend’s cheating on me?’ – thus giving yourself an excuse to act out and end the relationship minus the guilt you’d have otherwise.”

  I lowered my head at her evaluation and breakdown of my statement. “What does talking to AJ have to do with anything, though?”

  She forgot that I was a patient and rolled her eyes, which made me chuckle.

  “Samantha! Honey! The moral of the story is: face your past, own it, and don’t make the same mistakes in the future that you did back then! Whatever that means to you, sweetheart, you have to jump off this merry-go-round you’re stuck on!”

  I continued to smile at my oh-so-professional doctor letting her Brooklyn/Italian accent slip out when she checked me out of love, not frustration.

  “Listen, woman, you need to face this AJ guy and tell him whatever it is that you’re holding in. Whether it’s that you’re sorry, that you made a mistake, or that you love him –“

  My eyes lifted to hers when she said that and got stuck there.

  “Whatever it is, dig the words up from whatever grave you buried them in and SAY THEM, for heaven’s sake.”

  I left Dr. Gill’s office in a haze. Love? Where’d that word even come from? Up until now, she’d been all about ‘closure’ and whatnot. Had something that I said made her suspect that I was still in love with AJ? If so, she’d misread me. Clearly.

  I walked into my apartment, having already taken half a day from work because I was expecting a delivery of art supplies for my new studio this afternoon, I plopped down on my couch and found my thoughts still fixed on Dr. Gill’s summation.

  Love…yeah, right.

  *****

  By the time the delivery guys showed up, it was late enough that I could’ve gone back to work, grabbed Chinese food on my way home, and been on the couch watching Good Times reruns like usual. Needless to say, when my door buzzed I was already hella irritated.

  Directing the men to the bedroom that used to be Angel’s, I went back to my post on the couch wearing a pair of Jason’s loose-fitting sweats and a tank top. Glamorous, I was not.

  I’d just hung up the phone from ordering a pizza when someone knocked at my door. My first thought was that the gruesome twosome delivering my items were actually two-thirds of a trio and one had just gotten lost in the stairwell, but when I opened up, Jason stared back at me.

  We hadn’t seen one another since our ‘date’ on Sunday and our conversations had been dry to say the least. He looked like he was already expecting the less than enthusiastic greeting when I simply stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. The sound of either Ren or Stimpy dropping something in the studio alerted Jason that I wasn’t alone. His expression was questioning when he pointed down the hall.

  “Art studio delivery just got here,” was all I said back, plopping back down on the sofa.

  When I didn’t say anything else, Jason sat down beside me and pretended to be watching TV. However, the nervous energy that he was practically broadcasting was making us both uncomfortable.

  “How long’re they gonna be here?” He asked anxiously.

  Frowning, I shrugged. “I don’t know. As long as it takes, I guess. They haven’t brought everything in yet.”

  He ignored my attitude and continued to sit, scratching his head every now and again, finally opting to remove his suit jacket. From the corner of my eye, I watched him. Something was definitely up.

  The guys came from the back room laughing at some joke they’d told before entering the living room and then they walked out of my apartment, leaving the door open when they did.

  Jason scooted up to the edge of the couch. “We should talk,” he said hesitantly.

  Without looking away from the television screen, I asked, “About what?”

  “Us.”

  That could mean anything.

  The men came back inside, making as much racket as they could it seemed, and then thundered off to the studio again.

  “What about us? I asked.

  Jason blew all the air from his lungs again. “Never mind. We’ll wait until they finish.”

  Fine by me.

  Still perturbed from our falling out days ago, I didn’t pay him any mind. I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly and chuckled at the part of the episode where Florida Evans scolded Michael for taking a picture down from the wall to put up JJ’s rendition of “Black Jesus”. The fact that my lack of concern didn’t even upset Jason a little meant that he was preoccupied within his own thoughts.

  “Ok, ma’am, we’re all set here,” Tweedle Dumb announced.

  I faked a smile and took the receipt from his hand, fighting the urge to demand a discount because they were so doggone late.

  “If you have any issues, the customer service number is right at the bottom of that document. Hours of operation are from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m.”

  I nodded once. “Thanks. I’m sure I won’t need to call.”

  The guy tipped his baseball cap at me and then traipsed out of my apartment followed by his partner. I eyed the receipt and walked it over to the kitchen counter before going back to the couch, deciding to put off checking out the guys’ work until later.

  “Ok, what is it?” I asked. Jason looked at me and there was something about his expression that made my heart skip a beat. Whatever he had to say was h
eavier than I realized, probably because I hadn’t really been paying him much attention since he got here.

  Unable to look me in my eyes anymore, the first thought that I had was that he was here to admit to something – maybe to tell me that all of my suspicions were true.

  “This is about the text,” was his first admission and I’m not gonna lie, my heart nearly stopped cold in my chest. The hard role I was trying to play was quickly slipping away.

  “Okay? What about it?” I asked.

  As I watched, he hesitated for a moment, and then continued on with his movement toward his pocket. When he laid his phone in between us on the couch, both of our eyes were trained on it.

  “What am I supposed to do with that?” I asked.

  Again, Jason’s response didn’t come immediately. He raked his fingers over his low-cut hair and tried to steady his breathing. “I need you to look at something. But before you do….there’re some things that I need to say to you first.”

  My heart leapt to my throat this time, but I didn’t speak.

  Jason was practically shaking which made me extremely uneasy.

  Oh my god…there’s another woman. I was right.

  “There are three things I need to say before you look at what I have to show you. One: I love you with everything in me, Sam. For real. Regardless of what this thing I’m about to tell you might seem like, I swear I never meant to hurt you.” He paused in an attempt to stabilize his shaky breathing. “Two: If I’d figured out a way to tell you this before, I need you to please believe that I would have. You have to know that. It was never my intention to hold this back for so long.”

  How long had this woman been a part of his life!?!?

  “These past few days have just been a wake-up call for me. I don’t know if it’s because you saw the message, or if it’s because I saw the look on your face when you did. I never want you to feel like I don’t have your best interest at heart.” He glanced down at his phone again nervously and then continued. “Three: I only kept this from you because I was…I was afraid to lose you.”