It's Got A Ring To It

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by Desconhecido(a)


  Myles grabbed both of my arms and turned me toward him. “This is where we’re at again?” He searched for something in the distance, then his heavy gaze to me once more. “If I’m going to have to keep explaining myself to you, this thing between us…”—his arms went winding in big bulbous circles—“it’s never going to work. And that would be a shame.” In that moment, his eyes poured into me. “I’m really starting to like you, Laila.”

  I couldn’t explain it, but it was déjà vu. Myles took me into his arms and even though I was mad as hell with him and he was the one who never called, I felt like I’d done something wrong. It was the day at my parents’ house all over again. Once again, I was the bad guy.

  “So, tell me why I haven’t spoken to you, since the last time I made love to you on your kitchen floor?” I broadcasted my sex life to the entire Town Square. There was no more time for humility at that point.

  “I don’t know what you think you know, but I hoped after you last accused me of being engaged to my own sister, that you would give me the benefit of the doubt and let me explain if there were ever any further confusion between us. And let me assure you, that you are confused about what you think you know.”

  He was pissed and I could feel myself starting to cower. My track record with Myles was pretty much zero for two, and soon to be zero for three.

  “First of all, the woman who was sitting with me is a business client. I’m going to be photographing her wedding. If she still wants me to, considering I just walked out on our consultation to talk to you. And secondly, Laila, the night we had together was unexpected.”

  My eyes dropped. Of all the words he could’ve used to describe our night together, “unexpected” was not what I would’ve chosen. Beautiful, special, mind-blowing maybe. But, “unexpected” might as well be code for shitty. Myles reached for my face and lifted my eyes back to his.

  “Unexpected, but exhilarating in a way that I didn’t know I could ever feel. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted you, but only when I knew we were both ready. You are more to me than some no-strings-attached one-night stand.”

  Tears brimmed my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Then, Myles leaned in and kissed my quivering lips.

  “I just don’t know that you’re ready,” he continued. He seemed to be putting his thoughts in order and I knew he was torn about something. “I wanted to call you, Laila. And I know this is going to sound out of line, but I was at your parents’ house the day after we were together. I went to finalize a few things your mom wanted to add to Lena’s package. Only, I wasn’t the only one visiting at the time. Your ex, Ethan, was there, too.”

  I was speechless. What the hell did Ethan want and why was he at Mom’s? All of a sudden, he’s so eager to get together. Calling me at home. In New York. And now random drop-ins at my parents’ house. It had to stop.

  Myles could tell that I was pissed. “Apparently, Ethan was there to return some of your old things. He came with a box full of your stuff. The hurt on his face, it said everything. And that’s when it hit me. You guys had a life and a future together and I’m just your rebound. Your fallback guy, Laila,” he explained. “Laila, I heard him talking to your mother. He wants to reconcile. Just seems like I should step out of the way. You owe it to yourself to see what all the time you put into the relationship was worth. If it doesn’t work out, then you’ll have no regrets. And most of all, you won’t resent me for standing in the way.”

  “So that’s why you didn’t call me?” The words spit out on the edge of my sharp tongue.

  “Laila, I respect you enough not to take advantage of you while you’re vulnerable.”

  I was at war with myself. Part of me respected his chivalry, and the other part wanted to call him out for the self-righteous narcissistic jerk that he was. The self-righteous side won. “Myles,” I began slowly. “You don’t know the first thing about my relationship with Ethan. Yes, I did want to go back to him at one point, when that was all I knew. But that was before I figured out what I really want. Myles, you are what I want. Or, wanted.”

  “Laila, I—”

  “Myles, don’t say anymore. You’ve said enough, with what you didn’t say. I may jump to conclusions, but at least I have the guts to fight for what I want. Why couldn’t you just say that sex is all you wanted? I could respect that. I was falling for you. I really didn’t have a clue where things would actually go between us, but I was enjoying the ride. I’m not mad at you, I’m just disappointed. I think it’s for the best that we just keep it professional. If you have any questions about the wedding, just talk to Mom or Lena. I wish you nothing but the best. Take care Myles.”

  Before he could say a word in return, my phone rang. Saved by the bell. “I really have to take this,” I said walking away, putting the phone to my ear.

  “Laila?”

  I knew who it was even before he spoke. “Hello, Ethan.”

  “Uh…what’s going on?”

  “You’re what’s going on, Ethan. You called me at home, you tracked me down in New York, and now you’ve shown up at my parents’ house? Really? I just heard that you were engaged, and then Catherine tells me I can have you back now? So what, now that you’re engagement is off, I’m supposed to thank my lucky stars?” There was only silence on the other end. I knew what Ethan was thinking and I knew what he would say, if I wasn’t jumping down his throat, so I said it for him. “You have so much to say? You want to meet so bad? Fine. I’ll see you at eight o’clock on Saturday at Claim Jumper on Rampart. If you don’t show up, then I’ll assume that you’ve had a change of heart.” Then I disconnected.

  seventeen

  By the time Saturday crept around, the hours flew by like seconds. If someone would have told me a year ago, that I’d be signing up for a second round with Ethan, I’d have called them crazy. Whether Myles knew it or not, he might have been right. For the past two years, it was what I said I wanted. At least there was familiarity. Moving on seemed even scarier. Worst case scenario, if things didn’t work out with Ethan again, I’d live with no regrets.

  Strangely enough, there wasn’t a nervous bone in my body. No wild plot to make him regret leaving me or to try to make him jealous. No need to go out of my way losing pounds, or getting some drastic makeover. As a matter-of-fact, I opted for comfy jeans and a white tee. Might as well be me up front.

  Ethan had already called a couple of hours in advance to confirm that the date was still a go. He sounded all jittery and anxious. It felt more like business as usual on my end. The tables had turned. The man once so sure of himself and the girl who lived to please him had swapped lives. Not that I was so sure of myself, but it just seemed like the ball was in my court and I was calling the shots.

  As eager as I should’ve been, I only stared at my idle phone and wished that it was Myles I was meeting. We hadn’t spoken since Tuesday at Town Square. At least four or five times, I dialed the number and didn’t press talk. As far as I was concerned, there was really no use trying to force anything between us if he wasn’t even willing to choose me.

  Meeting Ethan only made me feel worse. I did exactly what he said. What I’d always done. I ran back to safety, to the familiar. It was what I struggled with most. The only thing I could hope for was some warped sense of closure, at the least.

  Nevertheless, I was going through with the date with Ethan. I hadn’t been in the car more than five minutes, when an incoming call came through from Brooke. I steadied myself for another round. The moment I mentioned that I was meeting Ethan she nearly had a conniption. She was my rock the first time around when things came crashing down. As grateful as I was, it didn’t come without a sole condition—I had to promise never to go back to Ethan.

  “Have you come to your senses?” She hissed. When I said the date was still a go, Brooke sighed loudly. I knew it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. After a brief silent treatment, she told me she was in Boston on a layover. She’d been reading all day in her hotel room since it had been raining.
Whenever she was mad at me, she avoided the subject altogether and answered my question with a question.

  “So, what do you think will happen between us?” I asked.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “What other choice do I have?”

  “And you think this is the best choice?” She seethed.

  The conversation went nowhere. The second I even mentioned the word, “closure,” she went ballistic. Between rants and name-calling, I was either a sadistic glutton for punishment, or a crazed amnesiac. Brutal truth, she did like no other. Tough enough love to ensure it hits home instead of scratching the surface. Between Lena and Brooke hounding me about regressing in life and being a masochist, it seemed secrecy was the only option.

  “It’s still not too late to turn around and go home.” Brooke gave one last shot at reasoning with me, but I needed to do this.

  At the risk of pissing off the only real friend, I’ve ever had, I thanked her for her unconditional love, and stood my ground.

  For a few minutes, I stayed in the car, listening to music and preparing myself. Ethan was everything I ever thought I wanted in a man. Although, he did me wrong, I couldn’t deny my heart. No matter how many people warned me against him or questioned my judgment, I had to decide for myself, whether that meant making a mistake, or not. I couldn’t figure out what it meant that we were back at the beginning together again. The anticipation of seeing him for the first time in all these years brought up memories and emotions that I didn’t think I was ready to handle.

  Memories flooded my mind, as clear as the day was long. When Ethan left two years ago, I stood shell-shocked, draped in a cover of goose bumps with weighted feet. I wasn’t her anymore. My nerves had since steadied and come to the forefront. I could walk into a room without the urge to cower and wither. And purposely, I smiled without reason. Still, not far in the backdrop, incensed gumption and ire underlined it all. The fall of our relationship left me with a wound that had been covered, but had yet to heal.

  “Oh, what the hell,” I thought as I got out of the car and headed toward the entrance. Outside, a cool breeze swept around aromas of fresh seafood and grilled steak. The host said it would be a fifteen-minute wait, so I squeezed into an open space between two families leaning against the wall. The sights and sounds of the highs and lows of family life echoed off the walls. The blaring high pitch of children screeching with joy. Couples trying to make it through the day, smiling, tired eyes, and sluggish bodies. Handholding under the table, a glimpse of romance defying the monotony.

  Ethan hadn’t arrived yet, but seeing people merely coexisting together reminded me of the hesitation I had about a life with him. That’s what I always worried about with him. I wanted to grow old with someone, who brought me to life, rather than sucked it out of me. Visions of an older version of us spooked me. He had the beer belly from too many nights of watching sports with a few six-packs of beer. I was frumpy and worn, with barely a flicker of life left inside. A trio of Ethan-Laila minis were our only connection to each other and we resented one another as a result. The love had been long lost and only the picture-perfect image that outsiders saw remained.

  With him, a level a comfort and familiarity existed. It may have been simply complacency and fear, but I never had the strength to change things, and that scared me. So why had I been so distraught when he left? In my lowest hour, Brooke told me that sometimes God removed things from our lives that we didn’t have the strength or the will to remove ourselves. I hadn’t seen it then, but now I couldn’t help wondering if Ethan was that for me.

  The waitress probably took one look at me and decided that a table tucked in a dim corner would suit my mood. Or, she might have noticed that I didn’t have a husband or a troupe trailing behind me and sentenced me to solitary. Nonetheless, I plopped down into the vinyl booth and studied the menu, even though all I wanted to do was get down to the business of Ethan and me. I needed to know where things were going.

  I saw his eyes before I saw the rest of him. Empty. Hardened. Despondent. The rest of him wasn’t any more vibrant. I was used to seeing him in perfectly tailored suits. Power suits, he’d called them. To him, power suits were necessary because they meant money, and people didn’t want to invest money with someone who didn’t know what it was like to have any. Ethan believed that you should dress for the position you wanted, not the one you happened to have. One of his many theories related to upkeep and hygiene. His grooming habits were borderline metrosexual. More than a few arguments stemmed from scuffed shoes, shared toiletries, and beauty rest, on his part.

  But the person before me looked like he’d been hit by a truck. By the size of the purplish blue bags under his eyes and the ragged clothes on his back, he’d endured more than a few of life’s curveballs. He was scruffy with his disheveled hair and an unshaven prickly beard. Tennis shoes—which were never really a staple in his wardrobe—but the dingy pair he wore was barely hung on by the laces. Nothing about him was aesthetically appealing, but it was the sadness in his eyes that got me. As angry as I was with him, I couldn’t kick him while he was down.

  “Hi, Ethan.” I quickly stood to greet him, careful to meet only his eyes. Not only to avoid staring at his get-up, but also to make sure he knew we were equals now.

  “Hello, Laila,” he said as a smile colored his face. “It’s good to see you.”

  Almost immediately, I questioned his sincerity. As closely as I was listening for any tinge of cynicism, it felt genuine. As he slid into the booth, his eyes scanned the table.

  “The waitress just seated me. I’m not really that hungry though. I’ll probably just order an appetizer or a small salad. How about you? Are you hungry?” His lip hesitantly curled into a smile and I knew he was probably starving.

  By the time his food arrived, we were volleying from subject to subject, on and off tangents about current events and books we’ve read. Talking to Ethan felt easy. But I had to be cautious not to slide into our old broken-in ways. We always did have fun talking about everything under the sun. We covered the gambit, but nothing really felt personal. I let him in a little with light talk of my trip to New York while he savored the remains of his steak. Both of us laughed at the fact that Brooke hadn’t changed much. She never did have a filter. When he asked about The Sweet Tooth, there was bitter sweetness as he congratulated me. Though, the humbling experience of having his financial planning business abruptly ruined turned the conversation sour. It changed how he defined himself and success. I thought we were finally getting to a point where we were going to be honest about why we were there, but he seemed content to dance around the elephant in the room.

  When Ethan ordered dessert, my patience began wearing thin. The meal could only be drawn out for so long. At some point, he needed to be honest with himself, and me. His eyes looked everywhere, but at me. Ethan was under the delusion that we’d share dessert with two spoons like some cute little happy couple celebrating the possibilities. We already knew the outcome. It’s the impossibilities that we needed to be rehashing.

  “Why are we here Ethan?”

  “To eat,” he said, knowing full well what I meant.

  “Don’t go there, Ethan. You know what I mean. Why have you been calling and trying to weasel your way back into my life? I wasn’t even going to bring it up. Told myself that I would be nice, meet with you, and leave the past in the past. But here you are acting like we’re on a date and things are all good. You left me. So seriously, Ethan, why are we here?”

  “Why did you agree to meet me, Laila?”

  “Don’t beat around the bush and try to flip this back on me. Answer the question.”

  “I have reasons. But, can we at least wait until we finish dessert?”

  “I’m done. Now say whatever it is that you have to say because time for light chitchat is over.”

  “Okay. First, let me give you something.”

  “Really, Ethan? This is ridiculous. Just grow up and—” He shut me up instan
tly, when I saw what he had for me. “What are you doing with those?”

  “A gift from Nana Bea.” Out of a navy velvet jewelry bag, Ethan pulled out the beautiful heirloom pearls that belonged to his maternal grandmother.

  “I ran into her not long ago at Hallmark. She said she’d been ill. How is she?” I smiled. Abruptly, Ethan looked away. He stared out the window and all at once a wall of bricks weighed me down. Worry curdled in my stomach. I waited, but when his stare landed back on me with watered eyes, I knew. Pain rendered me helpless. Places that I didn’t know could hurt, throbbed. It couldn’t be true. I didn’t get to say good-bye. “When?” I managed through uncontrollable sobs and tear-filled whimpers.

  Only on a few rare occasions had I seen Ethan cry. He thought it wasn’t something a man should do. He may not have believed me, but I never thought less of him for it. This case was no different. More than anything, I wanted to reach for him, hold him tightly, and tell him everything would be all right. As much as she meant to me, Nana Bea was everything to him: A mother, a grandmother, a friend, and a confidante. Ultimately, she was there. For love and friendship. When he needed advice, she was his person. Though, he never did listen when she said I was the only match for him. Then it hit me. She was the reason we were there.

  “She’d been ill for a few months now. I wanted to call you, but I didn’t think you’d take my call. Laila, I’m so sorry.”

  “No. I’m sorry, too. I know how much she meant to you.”

  “She went quickly. It made such a difference that she didn’t suffer.”

  All I could do was stare at the pearls, fragile as she was, in my hands. Nana Bea told Ethan that she would pass them down to the woman he married. It seemed only right that she never gave them to me in the end. But, I figured that she’d have given them to Catherine. I thought about it and the words came out before I could stop them.

 

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