Follow You Down

by Lazeema Haq

  “Damn. Must be nice.”

  “But I just…” Vesper focused her attention on the floor, deliberately avoiding Akil’s curious stare.

  “You what?”

  “I had a pregnancy scare a few weeks ago and since then… I just… every time we start getting close, I pull away.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know… I can’t relax when he touches me.” That was the first time she had expressed those sentiments out loud to anyone. Even to herself. Until now, it hadn’t even occurred to her she felt that way. Glancing at Akil, she caught the concerned expression on his face and was instinctively filled with shame and regret. What the hell was wrong with her? Why was she deliberately creating trouble for herself? Thanks to her over the top comment Akil was now probably worried for no good reason. “It’s just a phase,” she assured him, plastering on a smile. “It won’t last long, I’m sure. I think everyone goes through it.”

  Akil’s chocolate brown were filled with uncertainty.

  “It’s nothing to worry about,” she tried again. “I mean, come on. You’re always talking about how hot Tristan is. I’d be stupid to not want to jump all over that, right?”

  “Last time I seen you this tightly wound up, Latoya was just arrested.”

  Her eyes flew over Akil’s face, anger sweeping through her. “What is that supposed to mean?” Akil didn’t respond right away, simply watching her with an intensity that left her both furious and embarrassed.

  This weekend was supposed to be different, she was finally supposed to be able to relax without having to play the part of the supportive girlfriend, to not worry about the constant stress of monitoring her own behaviour. These days she was always “on”, always the woman making sure her boyfriend never felt insecure or jealous or worried about her leaving him for his father. The kind of girlfriend who wouldn’t abandon her man, and someone who would never ask him to change or compromise his values. Fine. She could be that girl. She had been that girl for months now, but thanks to Akil’s questions it was all threatening to unravel. All that hard work just ready to fall apart in a matter of seconds. Tears stung her eyes, her stomach clenched with anxiety.

  Akil shifted closer, circling his arm around her. “Sugar, you need to breathe.”

  “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said, gulping for air. “I have to….” She rose to her feet and ran to the bathroom.

  Half an hour later, Vesper finally unlocked the bathroom door so Akil could come in. He joined her on the floor, handing her a half-empty bottle of tequila.

  “Ves, tell me what’s going on with you.” He wrapped his arm around her, gave her shoulders a tight squeeze. “If you keep all that shit inside, it’s just gonna make you explode.”

  She didn’t respond, taking a sip of the tequila. Even if she wanted to talk, what could she possibly say? Things aren’t great between my boyfriend and I because he can never trust me even though I don’t think I’ve ever given him any reasons to feel that way? And if I want to talk to him about it, he just accuses me of being selfish and wanting to change him? It all sounded just so ridiculous in her head, resembling a situation so unbelievable she never thought it would actually happen to her. Except it did. Some days she didn’t even recognize the girl who looked back at her in the mirror. Other days, her reflection seemed to mock her, taunting her. Is this what you’ve really become? How can you be so pathetic? No wonder he doesn’t respect you.

  “Things that bad with Tristan?”

  Akil’s voice brought her rushing back to reality. “It’s not like it used to be.”

  “You try talking to him about it?”

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  “Be honest. You cutting yourself again?”

  There it was, the million-dollar question, the dark cloud looming over her head, following her every move and threatening to destroy everything she’d worked so hard to leave behind in the past.

  “Ves?”

  She had made a promise not to walk away, not to abandon Tristan the way she did Latoya, and that meant the only thing she could do was bottle all of her doubts, keep them locked in somewhere deep down so they never resurfaced again. It wasn’t easy, but she was doing it. Hour by hour. Day by day. That’s all she could do. Raising the bottle to her lips, she took another sip. “Not yet.”

  “If being with him makes you want to slice yourself up, it ain’t worth it.”

  Simple enough words, which she logically understood and even believed in, but life was never that easy.

  “Are you listening to me?”

  It wasn’t until Akil gripped her chin and forced her that she finally met his gaze, and the concern in his eyes broke her heart. “I can’t leave him, Akil. I love him. I can’t do that to someone I love again. After Latoya–”

  “This ain’t about Latoya. If stickin’ with Tristan means you gonna be hurting yourself, it’s not fair to you. Or him. You want him to bear the burden of that?”

  Tristan was already bogged down with the guilt and responsibility he felt towards his mother’s death. It was always inside of him, eating him up, and she didn’t want to add on to it.

  “Talk to him, tell him how you feel. Get all that shit out in the open.”

  “I don’t want to hurt him.”

  “How do you think he’s gonna feel when he comes home one night and sees you all bloody and gashed up? Think that’s not gonna hurt him?”

  It would devastate him.

  Her hands were tied, she didn’t know what to do. She was stuck. Leaning into Akil, she finally gave into her tears.

  *****

  Later that night Vesper was in bed, lost in her thoughts, staring up at the ceiling when Tristan called. She contemplated ignoring it, but eventually decided to answer. Truth was, a part of her missed him, missed the Tristan who was a combination of sweet, snarky and teasing, the man who made her laugh and challenged her and argued with her like no one else had done before. Her mind was filled with memories from all their good times together. “Hello?”

  “Sleeping?” He sounded tired, drowsy; he must have just woken up.

  “No, not yet. Just lying in bed.”

  “Thinking about me?”

  A soft, sad smile curved across her lips. “Always.”

  “Good. Akil get in alright?”

  “Yeah, but he wasn’t too happy you weren’t here.”

  “I bet. Should I text him a naked picture of me as consolation?”

  “You mean you haven’t already?”

  He chuckled, the sound soft, deep, smooth-as-velvet; it still carried the power to make her weak in the knees.

  “My work here is almost done. I should be back the day after tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  “Maybe you can pick me up from the airport?”

  She smiled. “Alright.”

  “Okay, I should get up. Start getting ready.”

  “Tristan?” she whispered before he could hang up.

  “Yeah?”

  “I… I love you.”

  There was a long pause between them, an awkward silence vibrating with tension. When he spoke next, his voice surprised her. He sounded distant yet angry at the same time.

  “You wouldn’t say that to me now unless you felt guilty about something. So what is it? What did you do?”

  And just like that, their peaceful moment was over.

  *****

  Vesper knocked on the door hesitantly, once again wondering if she had made the right decision to come here. Was this a mistake? Tristan would definitely think so. If he ever found out, not only would he not give her a chance to explain, he would automatically jump to the wrong conclusion. But in the end it didn’t matter how he would react. This was something she needed to do for herself, and maybe it would fina
lly give her some peace of mind. Frankly, even a little bit would go a long way – especially after her last conversation with Tristan when she’d confessed to loving him and he’d promptly demanded to know what she’d done wrong. In his mind the only reason she would say those words were to assuage feelings of guilt, and that realisation not only saddened her but also forced her to confront the very truth she’d been denying for months: something was really, truly wrong between them and before they hurt each other anymore, they needed to end things for now. The thought of going through with it, however, made her sick to her stomach.

  She couldn’t imagine not being with Tristan, not talking to him, laughing with him, making love to him. The wonderful memories from the beginning of their relationship were etched into her brain, but so were the awful realities of what they had now. The intimate bond they once shared was now broken, filled with insecurities and mistrust, and after months of walking on eggshells around him, constantly watching her words and behaviour – lest he feel insecure about her feelings for him – it had all taken a toll on her to the point where she didn’t even recognize herself anymore.

  Walking away from Tristan was not something she wanted to do but she felt trapped, caught up in a vortex of panic and turmoil and she knew, sooner or later, that level of chaos would trigger her back into cutting. She didn’t want to risk that, no matter what, not just for herself but also for him. He lived with the burden of his mother’s suicide, she didn’t want him to hold himself responsible for her own actions as well.

  Making the decision hadn’t been easy, and coping with it was going to be even harder. Already the gnawing, gut-wrenching guilt was slowly and steadily eating away at her insides. However, guilt was something she had a lot of experience with and she would find a way to survive it. Besides, she reminded herself, this break-up – though necessary – wasn’t permanent. A little bit of distance was what they needed right now to heal their own wounds and when everything had worked itself out, they could be together again, happy and blissful like they were before.

  The door opened just then and Vesper found herself facing Arthur Winthrop. He was dressed in a pair of grey slacks and a loose shirt, his skin pale and sickly. He appeared thinner, far older than she last saw him.

  “I hope you didn’t have too much trouble finding this place.”

  She offered him a polite smile. “It was fine. Thanks for agreeing to see me.”

  “Come in, come in, please,” he offered, stepping aside to give her the space she needed to walk past him. “I’m normally at the office at this time but I was feeling under the weather today and decided to take the day off.”

  The constant chatter from Arthur made her realise he was nervous around her, which was surprising. The impression she had of Arthur through Tristan and her own personal experience just didn’t reconcile with each other.

  “Can I get you something? Coffee, tea, something stronger perhaps? I was having a glass of scotch myself,” he said, leading her into the den which was twice the size of her entire apartment.

  “It’s ten in the morning,” she reminded him.

  “No scotch then?” he teased. “How about a beer instead?”

  “Can’t. I have class later.”

  He offered her a smile and gestured for her to sit down. After she did, he took a seat himself on the opposite end of the couch.

  As he sat there, his long legs spread out in front of him, she was struck by how closely Tristan and Arthur resembled each other. Not just in looks, but also the intimidating, domineering attitude they projected.

  “I was surprised to hear from you. After how Tristan reacted the last time, I didn’t think you’d want to speak to me again.”

  She wrung her hands together. “Tristan and I… we’re not in a good place right now.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  She remained quiet for a long time, just thinking.

  “Do you love him?” he finally asked, breaking the blanket of silence that had fallen over them.

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’ve already won half the battle. Both of you just have to be patient with each other and commit to working through your problems.”

  “That hasn’t worked too well for you and Tristan,” she reminded him pointedly, and then felt guilty for it when she noticed the hurt expression on his face.

  “You’re right, it hasn’t. Tristan can be very stubborn when he wants.”

  “I know.”

  “But so can I. I’m not going to give up on him, no matter how much he tries to push me away.”

  A part of her wished Tristan was here to listen to those words from his father. Maybe if he saw the emotional intensity on Arthur’s face, he would finally be convinced of Arthur’s sincerity towards him. “Do you really mean that?”

  “Of course. I admit there are times where it feels hopeless, and that’s probably why I approached you for help, but I believe things will work out between us.” Arthur sat up straight, watching her with a concerned expression on his face. “I’m still not sure why you’re here though.”

  “I think we need a break. I need a break. I need to work some things out. I just… want to make sure you’ll be there for him after I end things. He’ll be angry, and hurt, and I know he’ll make it hard for you to reach out to him, but I need you to keep trying. No matter what.”

  “I appreciate the gesture, I do. But I would rather you find a way to work things out with my son rather than try to repair my relationship with him.”

  “Don’t you think I’ve tried? I’ve done everything I can, I’ve bent over backwards to try to fix things!” Vesper cried out, her voice trembling. “But as long as he’s angry at you, things are never going to get better between us. He’s so messed up when it comes to you, it affects everything in his life. I can’t keep being punished for your mistakes!”

  “I’m… sorry.”

  “I’m not here for apologies. I just want to know you won’t give up on him. You’ll keep trying. One way or another, you will fix things with him.”

  Arthur exhaled a resigned sigh. “I’ll certainly try.”

  “Deep down, he loves you. He won’t admit it, but I know it’s there. And I have to believe you guys will reconcile.” The promise of a happy future with Tristan once they both defeated their demons was the one thing that gave her the strength to walk away now. “Please don’t tell him about this conversation. If he finds out, he’s not going to handle it well.”

  “You don’t need to worry about that.”

  There was a part of her that was finally able to breathe, even relax. Love and hope were emotions she’d never indulged in until Tristan came into her life, and after experiencing them both she didn’t want to live without either. Settling her gaze on Arthur, she gave him a grateful smile. Maybe, just maybe, things were going to work out after all.

  *****

  Few days later, there was a familiar pattern of knocks on the door; she knew who it was right away. Opening the door, she found Tristan waiting for her in the hallway, his luggage on the ground. “Hi,” she greeted, feeling unexpectedly shy.

  He returned her smile, leaning against the door frame. “Hi.”

  “You look exhausted.”

  “By which you mean I look hot and ruggedly handsome?”

  She smirked. “Of course. And exhausted.”

  “Good.” He angled forward, cupping her face, and grazed her temple with his lips.

  Her arms wrapped around him, clinging to him as she immersed herself in his embrace. Home. He felt like home, and love, and all those sappy things she never thought were in the cards for her.

  “Are you going to let me in or we staying out here all night?” he murmured, running his fingers through her hair. “I don’t mind either way.”

  She peered up at him. “Promise me somet
hing, Tristan.”

  “What?”

  “We’re not going to fight tonight.”

  His smile stiffened, and he stared at her intently for a few seconds. Her heart started racing in her chest, and for a minute she worried things were already going downhill, but her fears subsided when he leaned closer and gave her a gentle peck on the lips. “Promise.”

  Grabbing the lapels of his jacket, she pulled him inside with Tristan dragging in his luggage behind him.

  Tomorrow she would deal with their reality and the consequences of her decision. Tonight, however, she wanted to be with Tristan and remind herself why they were both worth fighting for.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  While Tristan took a shower, Vesper started preparing dinner. Her mind was fraught with worry, debating whether to tell him about her decision now or at a later time. In the end, she realised she couldn’t keep pretending; it wasn’t fair to him. However when he entered the kitchen and crept up behind her, grinding her hips against his towel-clad body, his lips caressing the curve of her neck, his hands ripping apart her shirt and throwing it aside, removing her bra effortlessly, her resolve began to sway.

  “I…” she groaned, closing her eyes as pleasure swept over her. “We need to talk.”

  “Later.” He pulled her jeans down along with her panties, helped her step out of them, before bending her forward over the kitchen counter.

  It had been so long since he’d touched her like this, his lips trailing along the back of her thighs, the very sensitive spot behind her knees, possessively claiming her. His fingers dug into her buttocks, squeezing her ass, and she trembled with the knowledge of what was to come next. Oh god, oh god, oh god. And then he started fucking her with his mouth and she was utterly and completely lost.

  They made love on the cold kitchen floor, slow and languid. They fucked on the couch, with her sitting astride his lap and controlling the rhythm of their movements, his hands digging into her back so tightly it filled her with the same sensation when she pierced her skin with a blade. Pain and pleasure were all wrapped into one intense experience, and she couldn’t get enough of it. Of him.