Half-Hitched

by Isabel Sharpe

  Tomorrow would happen tomorrow. They still had all of tonight.

  Derek didn’t seem to be in a hurry, either. He took time to kiss her mouth, her temple, to bend and suckle her breasts, adoring her nipples, the tugs of his tongue and lips, the rasp of his stubble against her skin increasing the sensation and her arousal.

  Out and back in, pushing to the hilt, moving his hips in a circle pressed tightly against her clitoris, then back out, and back in, a lovely, leisurely rhythm that kept her desire burning hot, but not yet desperate.

  She explored the soft, thick texture of his hair, drew her fingers down the planes of his face, tasted and tested every angle and aspect of his mouth.

  “I could get used to this,” he whispered. “I’d like to get used to this, Addie.”

  No, no. Not now.

  She could tell the truth, that she’d like to get used to this, too, but he might think that meant she’d decided to go with him, and she couldn’t tell him that.

  So she pulled his mouth down passionately, kissed him as if it were the last time. He responded with equal passion, and that passion translated into the language of their bodies and made them move urgently against one another as if, again, it might be the very last time.

  Addie went over first, holding Derek tight, arching back into the pillow, mouth open, holding stone-still through the rush of ecstasy, so he’d feel her contracting around him, so he’d know what he’d done for her.

  He drew in a sharp breath, exhaled, oh, Addie, and plunged deep into her, hands dug in under her buttocks to merge them more closely. In and out only a few more times, then he stiffened, moaned low, and she felt him pulsing inside her, reveling in his climax with a rush of tenderness that nearly undid her.

  They came down slowly. Instead of a flush of triumph, she felt a deep sadness, wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his, feeling his breath warm her shoulder.

  One minutes, two minutes, she wasn’t sure how long they lay there until he lifted and met her eyes, his dark with sadness. “You’re not coming with me.”

  Addie shook her head.

  “Tell me why.”

  “I can’t handle that much change, that much risk. I was going to. I’d gotten myself all excited, all ready. I was going to tell you tonight. You saw what it did to me.” She paused, determined not to cry. “I was a totally manic wreck. If it was the right thing to do, I’d be able to tell you my decision calmly. Instead I nearly fell apart.”

  “I sensed that.” His eyes were full of pain, but also understanding, which made it even harder not to cry.

  “I would love to find out what could be between us, Derek.” Her voice broke. “Maybe there’s another way. I mean...we can keep in touch. You could visit maybe, or I could.”

  “Sure.” He kissed her gently, but she knew what he was thinking, because she was thinking the same thing. They might stay in touch, might retain some of the passion for a while, but without contact, without access to each other, there was nothing solid they could build. To get to know someone enough to maintain a relationship, to make any kind of commitment, there had to be something other than occasional passionate reunions. They could go on that way for years, in a limbo of impermanence.

  Addie didn’t want that. She wanted a man she could get to know intimately over many, many months, his moods and his routines, to face trials and joys together, discover each other’s secrets and strengths, wonders and weaknesses. She couldn’t do that with a man half a world away.

  Derek pulled carefully out of her, disposed of the condom in the room’s little bathroom and brought back glasses of water for each of them.

  She watched him move, that glorious body, well-balanced and graceful, muscles flexing and contracting. He climbed back into bed and pulled her close. Addie sighed heavily. “I’m in total ridiculous denial how much this is going to hurt.”

  He chuckled, that deep glorious sound that was going to tear her in half every time she remembered it for the next several weeks. Maybe months. “I think we both are.”

  “But it’s time to put on my big-girl pants and deal with reality.” A tear slipped past her defenses.

  “I guess it is.” He wiped it carefully off her cheek and kissed her, kissed her again, sweetly, reverently. Her heart was breaking. She was surprised not to hear it cracking in her chest.

  “When do you head out to sea again?”

  “Thursday. I’m taking a group out of Lahaina Harbor on a three-island tour.”

  Addie nodded. She’d be going to the office. Sitting at her usual desk, interacting with her usual colleagues, going home to her usual apartment.

  It was what she wanted. What she needed. It was her chosen life.

  “After that?”

  He frowned, thinking. “After that a fishing trip. Then a birthday cruise.”

  She’d still be going to the office.

  But maybe by then she’d have enrolled in a class, met new people, broadened her horizons, interests and skills. Not the same in-a-rut-Addie, but not trying to be her polar opposite, either. Something in between. Something she could handle without losing her mind.

  She lay in Derek’s arms, head on his chest, legs tangled with his, thinking she’d never felt so blissfully relaxed with anyone. But if she’d discovered this now with him, it must mean she could do so again, right? Derek wasn’t the only man she could find happiness with. And because he was so wonderful, he’d raised the bar for her. She wouldn’t settle for ho-hum relationships again. That was another check in the plus column. Silver linings. After the worst of the pain subsided, she’d find more of them. She was certain.

  Eventually she dozed, woke to find Derek stroking her awake, drowsy at first, then, wow, um...very, very awake.

  “Addie,” he whispered. “Wake up.”

  “I’m up. It’s not morning.”

  “No. But I’m thinking since we might not be able to make love again, at least for a while...”

  “Ah. Good thinking, Captain Bates.” She rolled him onto his back and straddled him, holding his arms to the mattress, the way he’d imprisoned her earlier. “I agree with you. We’ll make this a good time.”

  “A night to remember.”

  “Uh.” Addie frowned. “Isn’t that the name of the book about the Titanic disaster?”

  “Could be.”

  “I’m not sure that’s appropriate for what we’re planning.”

  “Sure it is.” He struggled up and flipped her over, making a mockery of her physical dominance. “How about this. ‘As captain of the ship, it is my duty to go down.’”

  Addie burst into laughter, loving that he could make her smile, even through this dense cloud of misery. Her laughter cut off in a gasp as his mouth found her between her legs.

  Fear entered her heart at the same time pleasure spread through her body. Yes, Derek had raised that bar.

  But what if he’d raised it to a height only he could ever attain?

  16

  THE SOUND OF the ocean woke Addie. She was back in Derek’s arms, listening to waves tumble over rocks on the shore outside their window. A seagull laughed nearby.

  Addie’s eyes shot open. Registered the familiar white ceiling.

  “Alarm off.”

  The ocean was not outside her window. Derek was on the other side of the world. There were birds calling, but they were pigeons on the roof of the Russian Orthodox Church opposite her apartment building, making that deep gurgle noise in their throats, as if they were forever using mouthwash. She missed the wild free call of gulls, eagles and osprey, the thrush and other songbirds. She missed the ocean and its wonderful smells. She missed Derek something fierce.

  Leaving him three days earlier had been one of the hardest things she’d ever had t
o do. Addie preferred relationships neatly wrapped up when they ended, with literal or figurative notes of apology, regret, thanks or sympathy dutifully composed if not sent. This was a mess of loose ends, full of doubts and what-ifs. And yet, she’d stayed true to herself by deciding to come home to New York. She’d done the right thing for herself and, ultimately, for Derek.

  Eventually this ten-ton spiked weight she was carrying around in her heart would dissolve into the satisfaction of exactly that understanding.

  She bloody well hoped.

  “Time.”

  “Six fifty-five,” Tick replied.

  Six fifty-five. The latest she’d figured she could get up without having to rush any of her morning.

  Addie dragged herself out of bed, remembering suddenly how the week before she left for Maine she’d been having trouble getting up, too. Funny. She’d been thinking about getting her Vitamin D checked or her iron. And yet, she’d felt fine—more than fine—in Maine. Plenty of energy, zest for life, you name it.

  Just her rut, which she was going to get out of as soon as possible. She’d clean up those boxes of Great-Aunt Grace’s and maybe look for a condo for real this weekend. September was right around the corner, there would be classes of all kinds starting soon.

  In the meantime, she could get back to the kind of life she needed to keep herself sane.

  In the bathroom she counted to seventeen until the shower was warm, scrubbed her hair and body, humming a melody she abruptly stopped when she realized it was Avril Lavigne’s missing-you song “When You’re Gone.”

  In her bedroom, she dressed quickly and efficiently in the clothes she’d ironed and laid out the night before.

  In her kitchen she fixed and ate the same breakfast she had every morning: a banana, granola with yogurt, a half piece of toast with butter and jam—sometimes honey—orange juice, milk and coffee.

  In the subway she read that day’s New York Times, saving the crossword to do at lunch.

  In her office she dealt with the day’s tasks from eight-thirty until eleven forty-five when she broke for lunch to beat the rush at the cafeteria and secure her favorite table.

  In the cafeteria, with the crossword section under her arm, she selected carrot sticks, a sandwich, an apple and skim milk to be sure she was getting enough calcium.

  On her way to her usual table, sitting empty waiting for her, Addie came to an abrupt stop, nearly causing the woman behind her to dump her tray contents down Addie’s back.

  Her routines were not comforting today, as they had been the first day back, and then a little less yesterday. Today they were stifling her.

  “Addie?”

  She turned to find Linda Persson back at her usual table, with her usual lunch. Linda must have been sick Monday and Tuesday. Or maybe she’d decided to take a trip after all.

  “Hi, Linda, welcome back. Were you out on vacation this week?” She could hear the hope in her voice, not sure why she’d care either way.

  “No, no, I was out sick. Nothing serious. I’m much better now. How was Maine?”

  “Wonderful. The wedding was lovely. It’s good to be home, though.” Sort of. For the most part. In spite of being bored and having a huge jagged hole in her heart. She took a step toward her regular table then hesitated, struck by inspiration. If anyone could make her feel good about her decision to forgo a life of constant uncertainty for a life of total stability, it was Linda. “Hey, can I join you?”

  Pleasure lit Linda’s face, making Addie feel guilty for wanting to have lunch with her for such a selfish reason. “Absolutely, come on over. I’m dying to know what you thought of Maine. My friend Marcy and I are thinking of going there.”

  Addie set down her tray and took a seat. “Really going there?”

  “Well, yes.” Linda seemed surprised Addie would ask. “One of our friends from college opened a B&B outside of Portland and invited us. So I want to hear all about your trip.”

  “I thought you didn’t like to travel.”

  Linda looked trapped, and then gave an embarrassed shrug. “That was partly sour grapes. I had no reason to go anywhere and it felt terrible. I’m excited about this, though, so tell me everything.”

  “The state is beautiful, so wild and pristine and free. At least where we were, in Downeast Maine. The seafood is delicious and so cheap compared to the city. It’s the kind of place that changes you.” Her voice thickened. She bit into a carrot and chewed viciously. “But I’ll tell you, after a week of constant socializing I was pretty fried.”

  “Oh, I bet.” Linda nodded. “Weddings are exhausting. But so romantic.”

  “Yes.” Addie picked up her sandwich, trying to look nonchalant, and pretty sure she was failing big-time. “I actually met someone.”

  “You’re kidding!” Linda spoke so loudly a couple of people turned to look.

  “No, I’m serious.” Addie was a little annoyed. Was it that incredible to think she might have met a guy? “A friend of the groom, who’s an old friend of mine.”

  “Weddings are great places to meet people. All that love in the air.” Linda leaned across the table, eyes hungry. “Tell me about him. Does he live close by? Is he from Maine? Will you see him again?”

  “Well, actually...” Addie leaned in, too. She wanted this to have maximum impact, to enjoy Linda’s shock and dismay. “He asked me to leave New York and live with him.”

  “Oh, my gosh!” she yelped. More people turned to look. “After a week? Where is he from? What does he do?”

  “He’s a charter yacht captain. Based in Hawaii.”

  Linda gasped so hard she started choking on her sandwich, and had to hold her hand up to tell Addie to wait, and then drink water a few times. “Oh. My. God. You have to tell me everything.”

  Addie told her the short version, leaving out the part about Kevin and climbing into Derek’s bed by mistake, though her whole body was remembering that part so vividly she kept leaving bits out of the story and having to backtrack. Linda, either very polite or totally enraptured, hung on to every word. Addie told her how Derek had taken her to watch the sunset, how he’d shown up to surprise her when she was sunbathing privately—Addie left out naked—how he’d taken her on a moonlit rowboat ride and danced with her by a river under the stars.

  And then how after only three full days, he’d asked her to give up her job, her apartment, her well-ordered life, and follow him out onto the ocean to go who-knew-where for who-knew-how-long, who-knew-when.

  Crazy, right?

  Silence as Linda stared at her in horror and sympathy. Slowly, slowly, the pain in Addie’s stomach started to lift. Here was someone who’d understand. Someone who’d be able to tell Addie to her face that she’d done the right thing. Sarah thought Addie was nuts. Ellen thought Addie was nuts. Paul thought Addie was nuts.

  Linda would understand.

  “Are you nuts?”

  Addie was so shocked she sat there with a carrot stick halfway up to her mouth.

  “You came back here?” Linda gestured around the cafeteria. “Instead of living on a yacht? With a guy you were completely crazy about? You came back here? To this? This company and this cafeteria? And that carrot?”

  Her voice became louder with each phrase. Her face turned bright red. Around them people were falling silent. By the time she said “carrot” she was practically shouting.

  Addie managed to put the carrot down.

  “Yes,” she whispered.


  Linda looked around, noticed people staring and lowered her voice. “Will he still take you?”

  Addie’s eyes shot wide. “No. I mean I don’t know, but no, I can’t go. I’m not the type of person who can just up and leave everything I’ve built for myself. I can’t handle huge changes like that. And boats...I don’t think it’s for me.”

  “Oh, so you mean last time you tried living with an amazing hunk on a yacht you didn’t like it?”

  “I never said he was an amazing hunk.”

  “Is he?”

  “Well...” Addie wrinkled her nose. “Yes. But that’s not the point.”

  “Agreed. The point is that you are nuts. Boats have schedules, too, they have to, to function smoothly. And after you’ve been on it for a while the life will become second nature like anything else. How long has this guy been at it, you think he’s enthralled with every new day, with every aspect of his job?”

  “I guess not.”

  “But he wants to be enthralled every new day. With you, Addie.” She shook her head slowly, eyes narrowed. “And you said no.”

  Addie could only sit and blink at her.

  “Go.” Linda was whispering. “Go now. Just walk right out of here. Tell you what... I’ll take care of your paperwork. We can give you whatever, vacation time, sick time, short-term disability, you leave that to me. If you go and change your mind in the first month or so, you’ll still have a job to come back to. I’m sure you can manage your rent for a few months. But for God’s sake, don’t let this pass you by.”

  “Why are you doing this for me?”

  “Because I had an offer like this. From a military man. We’d known each other a short time, but we were crazy about each other. Before he went abroad, he asked me to marry him. I was a timid homebody and panicked at the idea of living overseas, of moving whenever the military said we had to. I couldn’t handle it. I’ve regretted that every day because no one I met after him came close. That was my chance. That was my life calling me, Addie, and I ignored it because I didn’t give myself credit for being able to evolve into more than I already was. I know now I could have handled it. And if I couldn’t, I could have left him, older and wiser. But this way I’ll never know. And there is no greater hell to live through than that.” Her eyes filled with tears. She slammed her fist onto the table. “Go to him. Right now.”