Forever Shade

by Shayne Ford

  “You are so mine,” I say softly, running my knuckles across her cheek.

  She tears away, her eyes glistening.

  “What is it, baby?”

  She brings her fingers to her eyes, and wipes her tears away, trying to smile at the same time.

  “It’s nothing. I just that… I can’t believe that we are here… Again. After all this time,” she says quietly.

  “I know,” I say, slowly stroking her hair. “It’s over now,” I mutter and kiss her gently.

  My arms wrap around her, our legs entangling again as our lips connect into a sensual ritual of love and mutual surrender.

  “You’re going to be mine, Tara. For real this time,” I breathe in her, smiling against her lips.

  She tips her head back and locks my eyes.

  “What do you mean by for real?”

  “You’ll see,” I say, grinning mysteriously. “Just let me love you now before the sun comes up,” I mutter, motioning to the sliver of light pushing against the night at the horizon.

  18

  TARA

  The curtains are down, the wind making the fabric flutter in a slow, hypnotic waving. Eyes trained on them, I spend a few moments revisiting the memory of last night.

  Images of him making love to me pop into my head.

  And then the image of the sunrise.

  And me falling asleep in his arms.

  His eyes and lips.

  His words speaking of love and the memories that I never thought I’d have the chance to share with him again.

  Smiling, I run my hand over the sheet.

  Where is he?

  I push upright and prop myself on my elbows. Glancing around, I listen.

  The house is quiet.

  Why is he gone?

  A few moments pass by before Chad’s muffled voice, and Maya’s laugh, drift through the air.

  I roll out of bed and start searching for my clothes. I find everything stashed in one place, on the chair.

  Rushed, I take a shower and put my clothes on.

  I grab my phone and call him.

  He doesn’t answer.

  A strange sensation washes over me as I set the phone down on the vanity in the bathroom.

  Nervously, I brush my hair, staring vacantly at my reflection. I toss one last glance in the mirror before I fish my phone off the counter, spin around and dash to the living room.

  Sitting at the patio table, Chad and Maya chat over a cup of coffee.

  Her blue dress grabs my attention for a second. It has a fitted strapless top and a full skirt featuring an eye-catching white roses print. Chad’s eyes narrow with a smile as he catches sight of me.

  “Hey. There you are,” Maya says, grinning as well.

  “Have you seen Shade by any chance?”

  Chad looks at me, intrigued.

  “Isn’t he with you?” he asks.

  The seriousness of his voice fuels my panic.

  “He was, um... We spent the night together, but he’s gone now,” I say.

  He pushes out of his chair, concern spreading across his face. More panic spreads through me.

  He looks over the handrail, checking the beach. Maya’s eyes darken, beaming with worry as well.

  “Did he say anything to you?”

  Chad looks at me. I feel as if the ground slips from under my feet.

  “No... I mean nothing that could explain his absence.”

  He enters the living room and checks the wall table near the entrance.

  “His car keys are here.”

  He grabs his phone and calls him. The place goes silent. I can hear the echo of the ringing as it wafts through the air. He tears the phone away from his ear.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “His phone has been deactivated.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “I have no idea,” he says, calling again.

  A different number, I suspect.

  “Has he done that before?” I ask.

  “No.”

  “Could he be somewhere close? Eating? Shopping? Anything like that?” I ask, realizing for the first time that there are so many things that I don’t know about the man who had me in his arms last night.

  “Unlikely. He hired a PA who does all the shopping for him. Plus, we’re supposed to fly back to Europe in a few hours.”

  “Could he have already left?” I ask, pulseless.

  “He could. I mean... Anything is possible.”

  His eyes turn darker, yet strangely he looks calmer.

  “What if you need to reach him? For work or something?”

  “He lets me find him when he wants me to find him, or he calls me. That’s probably what this is,” he says, his eyes bearing a tinge of sadness.

  He puts it nicely, but I get the message.

  It's not him, Shade is hiding from. It’s me.

  A moment later, Chad walks out of the house while I take a seat at the patio table.

  “Are you going to be okay?” she asks as she sets a cup of tea for me on the table, gingerly lowering herself in her seat.

  “I’ll be fine,” I mutter, picking up the cup of tea. “Tell me about you and Chad.”

  A small smile sprouts on her lips as I take a sip.

  “Things are good, I imagine,” I say, setting the cup down.

  She nods.

  “Very good,” she says enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with a smile.

  “Are you going to see each other again?”

  “Mmm-hmm. He’ll be back in a week... And then, in a month or so I’ll be traveling to Europe with him.”

  She grins from ear to ear.

  “Sounds serious,” I say as she softly bobs her head.

  “Yeah... It may be, so don’t lose hope. Things always work out in the end,” she says.

  I wish I could believe her.

  TARA

  ‘You know where to find me... when you’re ready.’

  My heart flips a few times as I suck in more air.

  I stare at the piece of paper stuck between my trembling fingers.

  I read it, and re-read it, unable to absorb the meaning. My mind hits a wall every time I want to make sense of it. This is his handwriting. I know that much. I’ve seen it before.

  It’s a riddle. Is it not?

  I search my wallet again, looking for a miracle. A clue. More. Something. Anything to break the haze that’s been growing in my head for the past few days.

  I empty the contents of my purse on my desk, going over everything, painstakingly searching for more.

  There’s nothing.

  “Do you need anything else?”

  Danielle’s voice rings out next to me. It feels as if an alarm just went off in my head.

  I cut my eyes at the door.

  “No.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Her eyebrows shoot up with concern. I draw a few steady breaths, trying to regain my composure.

  I smile. So not okay.

  “Yeah... Yeah.”

  Smoothly, I slide off my chair and walk around my desk.

  “I’ll go then.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  My hand goes up in the air.

  “Question.”

  She turns around.

  “Yes?” she says.

  I weigh my words for a moment.

  “What was Shade Hennessy doing in your office last Monday?”

  She blinks a few times, a faint blush tinging her cheeks.

  “He, um... He came in to pet my dog.”

  My eyebrows raise in surprise.

  “How come?”

  “My dog wandered and stumbled upon Mr. Hennessy as he was waiting in your office. When he left, he came in to say goodbye. To my dog,” she adds.

  “Understandably so. He’s cute,” I say. “The dog, I mean.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  She smiles.

  “Okay then. I’ll see you next week,” I say before she walks away.

  I go bac
k to my desk, snatch the piece of paper and glue my eyes to his words, my mind spinning thoughts, none of them making sense.

  19

  SHADE

  It’s getting dark.

  The wind twirls snow against the windows, howling and shredding the silence. A hungry fire licks the logs, burning them to ashes, spurring a swarm of sparks that look like fireflies.

  I shift my eyes away from the paper pad and stare at the long shadows wavering across the wall before I stretch my legs and swing my eyes to the large windows.

  Wisps of fog hung low over the shore and the frosted lake.

  It’s been a week.

  Was I wrong? Is she mine, after all?

  I wish I knew.

  Sunk in thought, I push out of my chair and head to the kitchen when the humming of a car engine resonating outside the windows stops me in my tracks.

  I spin around and make the trip back, drawn to the windows, my heart thudding in my chest.

  Disappointment sets in me as I lay my eyes on the car stopped in front of the house.

  I walk away from the window and crack the main door open.

  A woman caring a bag rushes toward me, walking through a curtain of snow.

  I meet her midway and take the bag from her hand before I thank her and jog back inside.

  A few moments later, I unpack everything in the kitchen. The food is warm. And it’s a lot, I muse, as I go over the catering trays.

  Every night since I’ve been here, I’ve ordered food for two people.

  I smile. Hope never dies.

  Snowflakes melt on my arms, and water drips from my hair prompting me to pull my T-shirt over my shoulders and strut to the bedroom.

  A soft knocking on the door draws me still.

  I stop and listen.

  For a moment, all I hear is the wind whistling outside and the fire crackling in the fireplace.

  I wait, hoping to hear that sound again.

  I do, so I amble back to the door.

  I don’t even need to check who it is because I know.

  Slowly, I slide the door open, my gaze dragging up.

  Unhurriedly, I take in the tips of her boots, her jeans, and the tailored jacket, and then her long brown hair, sprinkled with snowflakes, framing her flushed face, and glimmering eyes.

  The rooftop Christmas lights make her cheeks glow, and her eyes beam, moist and framed by her snow-coated lashes.

  She peers over my shoulder, curiously.

  “Have I interrupted something?” she asks, motioning to my shirtless body.

  Her lips purse into a small grin as I barely suppress a smile.

  I slowly shake my head before I take a step back and invite her in.

  She walks in, bringing the winter with her but all I feel is the breath of hope and summer.

  I turn around and shut the door behind me.

  She saunters to the window, her eyes scanning the room.

  Without taking off her jacket. Without saying a word. Her heels tap the wooden floor, a slow, sinister cadence. Her hands don’t leave her pockets.

  I wonder if I’m in for a big surprise.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean against the couch. Waiting. Her fingers slip between the drapes. Tugging them to the side, she peers outside.

  She turns around after a moment, her eyes landing on my sketches. She ambles to the armchair, picks them up and studies them. They’re all her.

  Drawn from the memory, or after the pictures I’ve taken in Italy.

  She shifts her eyes to me.

  Silently, she narrows the gap between us, her eyes holding mine.

  She stops in front of me.

  “You were waiting for me…” she murmurs.

  “Mmm-hmm,” I say, without smiling.

  “What if I didn’t come?”

  “That would’ve said to me that the words you had for me a week back meant nothing.”

  Slowly she unbuttons her jacket. I push up off the couch and take it from her hand.

  “I spent the last forty-eight hours boarding planes and flying around the planet to find you because my first thought was not Bariloche. It was Italy. Why here?”

  I gesture her to the sofa.

  “Do you want anything to drink?”

  “No, thank you,” she says with the voice of someone who doesn’t want to stay long.

  I flick my eyes at her, just as she slides onto the sofa.

  From a chair, I pick up a T-shirt and pull it on me. Her eyes follow my moves, dispassionately.

  I suddenly feel cold, and in no mood for a drink, but I pour myself one regardless.

  She folds a leg under her backside and pivots to me when I take a seat as well.

  Silently, she watches me sipping my drink.

  “You didn’t tell anyone.”

  “No,” I say.

  “Why?”

  I slide my gaze to her.

  “I wanted you to find me.”

  She looks down for a moment, downcast.

  “You tested me?”

  “Us.”

  She lifts her eyes. They’re wrapped in sadness.

  Slowly, she shakes her head. As she does, I see the tears glimmering in her eyes.

  “I think we failed,” she says with a quiet voice.

  My heart breaks.

  “Why would you say that?”

  Leaning forward, I place my glass on the table, trying to conceal my nerves and tension.

  Her eyes connect with mine again as I lean back in my seat.

  “I know what you wanted, Shade, but it’s not going to work like that.”

  Her voice is lined with sorrow.

  “You’re here.”

  A bitter grin arches her lips.

  “I’m here because you absolutely drove me crazy by leaving me like that, but that’s not what you wanted from me. Was it?”

  I lean forward again, and rest my elbows on my knees, tossing her a side glance.

  “No,” I say.

  Slowly, she shakes her head.

  “You can’t test trust when there isn’t much left.”

  I search her eyes for a few moments.

  “That night was great,” she says with a steady, emotionless voice.”I thought that I found my way back to your arms, but your heart?”

  She shakes her head, disheartened.

  “You said it yourself,” she continues. “There was time, and there were people. It doesn’t matter how many or for how long or how significant they were. None of that matters. What matters the most are the scars that I have inside me. We both do, actually. We can’t use the old trust. That trust is gone. Burned. Destroyed. Impossible to built on. We need new trust Shade, and no matter how playful your move was, and innocent, trust is not what I felt this past week. I felt angry and betrayed and I questioned everything you made me feel that night. Everything. From your words to your lust, to the emotions that I felt for you. None of it was real when I woke up in an empty bed, next morning. And I was confused and furious and then I felt empty. And it was the most heartbreaking feeling I have ever experienced. I felt alone again, and I hated it. You made me doubt everything I thought I knew and had for you. Why?”

  “That’s not what I wanted.”

  A soft smile pushes to her lips, but all I see is the tears gleaming in her eyes.

  “I don’t think this is going to work for us,” she finally says and I feel as if the ground shakes beneath my feet.

  As much as I want to wipe it away, surprise slides onto my face.

  She shakes her head again, bereft.

  “I wish I were wrong. But this… It should’ve never happened that way. I don’t feel about you the same way I did when you left me a year ago. To me, you were everything. You came into my life at a moment when I was completely blindsided–– a turning point if you wish, and you showed me the way. You guided me out of the maze. You were my teacher, Shade, my everything. And I trusted you with my life. You showed me that I lived a life of misery, and I believed you. You
told me that I could do much more with my life, and I believed you. You loved me in ways I never thought a man could love me. And you gave me everything and more, and then…”

  She stops, her voice shaking.

  “And then you took everything away from me. First I lost my trust, and then my love and then I questioned everything, and you know what this is?” she asks, smiling as her tears start falling.

  I clench my jaw, unable to speak.

  “This is what I had before. Do you remember what you told me when you met me for the first time?”

  A few moments of silence slip by, my heart cowering in my chest.

  “You said to me… ‘Don’t let some asshole waste your life.’ Do you remember that?

  Biting my lip until I feel the taste of blood, I nod.

  “Yes, I do,” I say, my voice, broken, hoarse.

  She tilts her head to the side, smiling, and shedding tears again.

  “And now, I feel the same way with you. And it’s not only you that I feel bad about it. It’s me as well. I hate myself for sleeping with that man.”

  I flick my hand up but she doesn’t let me speak.

  “No. You know me…” she says with a softer voice. “You know me well, Shade. I waited for you for so long. I was busy with work, and I didn’t want to think about it, but I waited. I couldn’t be with anyone else. I just couldn’t. And the reason I did that and let him have me was that I lost hope. Hope that I’d see you again. And hope that I’d hear from you again. I could’ve been married when you came back, yes. Perhaps, even pregnant. All of that was possible. But something worse than that happened. When I lost hope, I got in bed with another man. And now, you had the touch of other women all over you.”

  I swallow hard.

  “You can’t tell me that it doesn’t matter. All that matters. You think that just because they pass briefly through our lives these people mean nothing.”

  She smiles, disappointed.

  “They have their little power to chip away at other people’s feelings, and even if you buried yourself blindly in some woman’s body, it still matters. It’s in the way you touch me Shade, and it makes me pull my guard up when the slightest thing happens, like your disappearance this past week. My first thought when I found myself in an empty bed and learned that you were gone was that I wasn’t enough for you. And then I went over every moment of that evening and looked for clues, and sure enough, I found them. Because I was ready to find them. I felt in you what we once had, but I also felt something else. I felt the distance, and pure sex. I felt lust and nothing else. You slipped in and out of it. I felt you as you used to be and then I felt the more mature man in you who’s used to fuck for fun or out of boredom or to forget. That and this–– you playing a trick on me so that you can test my trust, gave me a fatal blow. And then I realized that I was no better than you. I was the woman who picked some hotshot on a Friday night and had him buried between my legs because he reminded me of you.”