by Anthology
Now it’s my turn to frown, fearing I’ve given her the wrong impression. “I’m not.”
She laughs dryly, shaking her head but keeping her gaze pinned on me. “Is that not what you just did? You took one look at that gentleman and assessed him with a poorly drawn conclusion based solely on the clothes he is wearing and his clear lack of patience.”
“I watch, Cassi,” I say in a rush, attempting to defend a point that I’m sure has now lost its purpose. “I watch and I observe.” I lean forward again, this time resting my elbows on the table and dropping my chin to my fisted hands. The small round table is hardly a barrier between us, meaning her face is just mere inches from mine. Her warm breath dances across my cheeks, and I allow my gaze to drop to her mouth, flicking between her full pink lips and her chocolate brown eyes. “Everyone has a story. I simply sit back and try to read their unwritten words. It's not about judging or making assumptions. It's about seeing people.” I stop talking for the length it takes to draw in a breath, unsure as to whether or not I should continue, and then decide to go for it.
What the hell do I’ve got to lose?
“I even see you, Cassi.”
Darting from her mouth, her tongue runs along the seam of her lips, curling around the bottom one in contemplation. She eyes me curiously, her chest rising sharply and stopping mid-inhale as if her ability to breathe has been stolen from her. Her words leave on a whisper. “And what do you see when you look at me?”
I tilt my head to the side, my mouth falling open with the intent of providing her an answer that may or may not send her running, but I don’t get the chance. She interrupts, and my jaw clamps shut.
“Actually, you know what.” Removing herself from our intense closeness, she leans back in her seat. “Don’t answer that. I’d rather not know.”
AFTER TWO MORE cups of coffee, a less tense conversation that included occasional smiles and the odd, sweet sound of her chuckle, we step foot out of the cafe. There is an awkwardness that invades the atmosphere as the moment we are to part ways falls quickly upon us.
I shove my hands in my pockets and glance down the street, not ready to walk away from her. That damn heart of mine is telling me if I let her go, if I turn my back and head in the opposite direction right at this moment, this will be it. This will be the last time we see each other.
Arms crossed over her chest, she stares down at her black boots, her brown hair falling like a curtain around her. “Thank yo—”
“Can I walk you home?” The question is off my tongue before my brain even registers it, and her head jumps up, those big brown eyes of hers locking onto mine. My chest is tight as I wait for her answer, and it feels like forever before I receive it. She smiles softly and gives me a subtle nod. “Okay.”
I smile back at her. “Okay.”
We start to walk down the street and after making it just a few steps, I stop abruptly. Cassi stops too, and as she turns toward me, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “I’m sorry about earlier, Cassi. The last thing I want to do is give you the impression that I walk around making assumptions about people. I mean it when I say that’s not me.” I pause, inhaling enough air to fill my lungs and then release it all slowly, hoping she won't hold my previous accusations against me. “I just know what it’s like to have a life full of possibility and how quickly it can all be taken away from you.”
She shakes her head. “It’s okay. We’re only human, Sam. It’s in our nature to judge. I just… sometimes I think we forget that not everyone walks the same path in life as us. Everyone’s journey is different. To look at someone and assume we know what they are going through… well, that only makes us naive.” Holding me with her eyes—a sadness in them I’m eager to help her remove—she speaks softly, the gentle tone of her voice reaching my ears on a whisper. “Not everyone wears their heart on their sleeves or their scars on their skin.”
Like you.
The unspoken thought passes between us, and before I can manage to pull in a breath—let alone say anything at all—she is turning away from me, breaking our eye contact and continuing down the sidewalk. I fall in step beside her, a faint smile on my lips and a lightness in my chest that I’m beginning to associate with being around her.
Our short walk to her place lasts only fifteen minutes, spent mostly in silence, and as we stop in front of her door, adorned with a large burlap wreathe, I realize I’m not done getting to know her. I want to discover what other ways I can make her smile. I want to see more of that fire in her eyes, the one that blazes bright when she talks with passion and fierceness for what she believes is wrong and right.
Like everything else that has come out of my mouth on impulse, I ask, “Will I see you again?”
Twisting her lips to the side, she reaches up and scratches her cheek. “Is there a reason to?”
We stand still, her watching me, me watching her. She is waiting for me to say something, but I can’t get the words out. How do I tell this woman that I want to see more of her? More than just the few glimpses I’ve already caught.
She slides her key into the door handle, and as she unlocks it and pushes it open, she steps inside and turns to look at me, a smile on her lips. It’s a smile that says this is it. Whatever this is, is over. “Goodbye, Sam. It was nice meeting you.”
I nod, disappointment needling through me at her short dismissal, but I can’t bring my feet to move. I stand still, waiting, hoping that she’ll change her mind, that she’ll ask me not to go, or better yet, tell me that she’d love to chat over another cup of coffee. Her hand resting on the door, she says nothing.
I take that as my cue, and lifting my hand in a wave, I start to walk backward, a heavy weight in my stomach.
“You too, Cassi.”
MY HEART THUMPS fiercely in my chest as I move away from the door and pull the curtain aside on the window, watching as this man—this man who has managed to get me to smile internally and externally more in a few short hours than I have in the last sixteen months—walks down the sidewalk. Like a top that has lost its balance, I’ve fallen onto my side, an unusual feeling churning and twisting my insides. I’m unsettled. I’m confused. This feeling is one I can’t shake… one that I don’t even want to begin to analyze.
Keep telling yourself that, Cass.
Sighing, I let the sheer fabric swing back into place and force myself to take a step back. I shrug my coat from my shoulders, hanging it on the coat rack beside the door, and then make my way to the couch, slumping myself down on it.
With my arm flung over my head, I stare blankly up at the ceiling, the last three hours replaying on repeat. The urge to get up and run back to the door has me fidgeting restlessly, and as much as my feet are ready to heed that command, I don’t move. I stay sitting until the soft sound of rain droplets pattering on the window panes grabs my attention, and I briefly wonder if Sam has made it home in time to escape the effects of the storm. I focus my gaze on the set of patio doors located off to my right, the buildup of condensation on the glass blurring the scenery that lays just beyond them, and I’m instantly hit with the memory… the memory of Adam and me…
I stand in front of the patio doors, watching as the clouds release their scattered droplets of rain on the ground. The variance in outside temperature causes a layer of moisture to collect on the inside pane, fogging the glass, and without thought, I press my finger against it, tracing patterns on the wet surface.
A strong arm wraps around my waist, and as I’m yanked into a solid chest of warm muscle, a surprised squeal leaves my throat. Reaching up with his free hand, Adam presses his own finger to the glass, tracing an ‘A’ on one side of the heart that I have just finished creating, and a ‘C’ on the other. My heart flutters beneath my ribs, a goon-like smile drawing across my face at his sweet, yet simple gesture.
Warm lips graze the sensitive skin on my neck, and as he nuzzles his face deeper, pulling me even closer and his hold tightening, he kisses me tenderly. “How did I eve
r get so lucky, huh?”
Smile widening, I twist in his hold, this time my lips finding his and my arms looping around his neck. “Perhaps it’s not luck as much as it is fate.”
“Fate?” His hands grip my hips, my legs instinctively coming up to lock around his waist as he lifts me against him. “You sure about that?”
With our lips still connected, I nod, my tongue dipping into the warm, recesses of his mouth and dancing with his. He begins to walk forward, crossing the space of our living room and weaving around the boxes we have yet to unpack, making his way to our bedroom. Kicking the door open with his foot, he heads straight for the bed, not bothering to turn on the lights, and lies me down. Another kiss to my lips, and he pulls back, hovering above me with a gentle smile in place. “And what makes you think this is fate?”
I reach up, without hesitation, and press my palm to his chest, directly above his heart. “Because some hearts are just meant to be together, aren’t they?
The look in his eyes has my heart beating at an out-of-control pace. I drag in a breath, my chest rising against his, and before I can swallow it down, Adam’s lips are on me. His hands slide under the hem of my shirt, his fingers skimming across my belly, spreading their warmth over every inch of my skin. A fire stirs low in my stomach, the heat of it igniting the delicious ache building between my thighs.
Leaning back, Adam removes his shirt and flicks open the button on his jeans, letting them and his boxers fall to a pool at his feet. He returns to his position, crawling over top of me, his one hand smoothing up the back of my thigh as he settles between my legs. Resting his forearms on either side of my head, he places a trail of kisses from my forehead down to my lips. His eyes hold mine as his mouth lingers in agonizing closeness, barely touching mine.
I push off the bed and rest my weight back on my elbows, attempting to steal another kiss, and Adam dodges my movement, a deep chuckle erupting from his throat as my brows narrow into a deep scowl.
He shakes his head. “Nu-uh. Not until you say it first.”
“No way, mister.” My lips twist to the side as I cross my hands defiantly across my chest. “I said it first last time.”
Thinking for a moment, he shakes his head again. “That didn’t count. You were drunk.”
“Which is all the more reason for it to count.”
Dropping his mouth to my neck, his hot breath creating a layer of bumps to rise on my skin, he flicks his tongue over my pulse. “And why is that?”
I nearly lose my train of thought as he tails his mouth down to the hollow dip of my throat. My next breath punches from my lungs as he teases me, caressing me with his tongue. “Because even in my drunken, incoherent state, you know I’m still crazy, madly, deeply in love with you.”
“Say it, Cass,” he whispers against my skin, reaching up and slipping the thin straps of my camisole from my shoulders. As he drags the silky material down, revealing my naked breasts and pert nipples, he wastes no time covering them with his mouth.
A lust-filled gasp floats from my chest as he nips at the sensitive buds, taunting me. He knows me well, knows I’m on the brink of caving, and the jerk knows if he keeps it up, he’s going to win. His warm breath tickles my flesh as he speaks against it. “Say it, baby. I just want to hear you say it.”
I clamp my mouth shut, determined to be the victor in this battle. And then he smooths his hand up my inner thigh, his fingers grazing my center, turning that dull ache into a now steady throb.
“Damn you, Adam.” My voice comes out in a rush, breathy and urgent, my need for him clear. Losing the fight, I surrender, the words he was demanding to hear leaving my mouth on a whimper. “My heart belongs to you. Forever always.”
“Knew that would do it.” A devilish grin spreads across his lips, and before I have a chance to say anything else, he is sliding his finger beneath the black lacy material barricading us. All my thoughts flee as I become lost to his touch, and as I’m pulled into a world of sensation, the only thing I can hear are his whispered words…
“And mine to you, Cass. Always forever.”
A crack of thunder jolts me from the memory, and my momentary happiness is replaced with a sadness that I don’t know how to cure. My chest aches, the pain in my heart reminding me that forever and always was a promise neither of us had the ability to keep. Willing the tears to stay at bay, I force myself to sit up on the couch and drag my gaze away from the branches of lightning illuminating the darkened sky. My cell phone begins to ring, rattling across the glass coffee table. I lean forward and pick it up, not bothering to check the caller ID before answering.
“Hello.”
“Hey. I was just calling to check on you. Are you home now?”
I smile at the sound of Jenny’s voice and her concern for me. One might find it overbearing, and usually the constant phone calls and checking in, especially from my mother, would be something that would drive me to partial insanity. But today… for some reason, I'm okay with it. “Yeah. I’m home now.”
“Oh good. I was a little worried you got caught in this storm.”
“No. I got home a little while ago. I'm just vegging out on the couch.”
“Sooo…” She drags out the last vowel, obviously buying herself some time before she asks her next question. “How did it go?”
I pause, allowing my brain to conjure up a response, and as it does, my thoughts immediately return to Sam. “It was good.” My lips slowly spread across my face and a warmth I’m not used to feeling seeps into my veins as I think of the man I spent the better part of my morning with. “He was really nice.”
As soon as the thought leaves my mouth, I tighten my expression, not wanting to acknowledge the way he made me smile and laugh and how it felt good to actually be doing so. When all you've known for the last sixteen months is pain and heartache, feeling anything other than those emotions, seems like such an impossible task. No matter how much I want to revel in whatever this is, there is a voice whispering to me telling me this is wrong. These emotions, these feelings, are wrong.
“He’s really cute.”
An immediate frown pulls at my mouth, and I scold her. “Jenny.”
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. He’s just… he wasn't, or rather whom, I was expecting.”
“And whom were you expecting, exactly?”
She sighs. “I don't know, Cass. Someone much older... wrinklier… someone not as attractive.”
I don't argue with her, because if I'm being completely honest, Sam is nothing like I expected either. He's young; younger than I imagined he would be. And the thought that he has already had to endure so much in his short life causes my chest to constrict uncomfortably.
“Need I remind you that you are happily married?”
“Oh, please.” Jenny chuckles. “Being married doesn't make me suddenly blind. And you can deny it or stay silent all you'd like, but I know your mind is thinking the same. There is nothing wrong with admitting that, Cass.”
The warmth that seeped into my veins just a few seconds ago has moved, collecting in my cheeks and making them overly hot and flush.
“How old is he anyway? Did he tell you?”
“Um, yeah. He’s twenty-eight.”
“Wow. I guessed he was around our age, but it's still shocking. What happened to him that he needed a—”
“Heart transplant?” I finish her sentence and blow out a breath, my stomach bubbling uneasily as I share with her the same information Sam shared with me. “He has a rare, genetic heart disease. His mother had it too. He lost her when he was only eight years old because of it.”
I hear Jenny gasp through the line, and I can picture her fingers flying to her mouth to stifle it.
“That's so sad. Does he have anyone? I mean, is he married or have any other family?”
“I don't know. I didn't ask.” I pause, my mind drifting to a few hours ago and the closeness Sam and I had shared as we sat at the small round table. I think about the way my stom
ach fluttered as he looked at me, as if he could see right into me, right into my broken heart.
I even see you, Cass.
I shake my head and close my eyes, attempting to wipe it all away: the images, his voice. None of that matters.
“He wasn't wearing a ring on his finger, but that doesn't mean he's not engaged or seeing someone. And what does that even matter, Jen? We didn't meet to exchange our life details.”
“No. I know. Call it curiosity, I suppose... I mean, aren't you curious?”
Maybe.
I swallow down the unspoken word before it has a chance to jump off my tongue uninvited. “Not really, no.”
Silence fills the line, and I have no doubt it's because Jenny is questioning whether or not I'm being truthful. With absolutely no filter, she's asks her next question, striking me still.
“Are you seeing him again?”
A sudden lump lodges itself in my throat. “Why would I?”
Jenny is quiet for the length of a few breaths. “I don't know, Cass. Maybe because it was nice seeing you socialize again.”
The thickness in my throat continues to build, and the direction this conversation is heading toward is one I have no desire to descend into.
“It's been so long since—”
“Please don't, Jen. I don't want to have this conversation right now, and Sam is the last person I need to be socializing with, okay? It's too much. This is all just too much. So the answer to your question is no, I won't be seeing him again.”
Jenny doesn't argue, either my words have finally resonated or she can hear the hurt in my voice.
“Okay, but, Cass?”
“Yeah?”
“It's okay to live your life. It's okay to smile and to be happy.”
LYING IN BED, Adam’s pillow nestled in my arms, I attempt to close my eyes and erase the events of today. I should be proud of myself, proud that I managed to find the courage to follow Sam out of the coffee shop and listen to what he had to say, to meet the person whose life Adam’s selfless decision had the ability of saving. Knowing that a part of Adam lives on in someone else should bring a sense of comfort, a sense of peace, but as I grip his pillow tighter and inhale the faint smell of his cologne, all I feel is sadness. Tears fall freely down my cheeks, and that numbing ache pulses painfully in my heart.
