Authors: Portia Moore
“You were trying to get me into bed,” I remind him with sly grin.
“That’s beside the point.”
“That night, it was exactly your point.”
The wide smile on his face softens. “I’ve been with a lot of women,” I arch my brow a little apprehensive about hearing the rest of this speech—it’s not getting off to a good start. But I say nothing and let him continue.
“I looked straight through them, and they never noticed or didn’t seem to care. When I first saw you I couldn’t do that; you wouldn’t let me. It caught me by surprise. Everything about you caught me by surprise.”
His hand slips beneath his shirt that I am wearing and up my back. We stop dancing as his fingers begin to trace their infamous pattern on my skin. His touch gives me chills causing me to bite my lip. His fingers leave their spot and he takes my hand gripping one of my own fingers and he brings it to my back he then makes the same pattern he’s done so many times. This time I recognize it and my heart flutters. It wasn’t just a random pattern or symbol, it’s his name.
“I want something more permanent than tracing my name on your back,” he steps back looking into my eyes.
“I’m not getting your name tattooed on me,” I joke wrapping my arms around his neck. He chuckles and shakes his head no.
“Well ink fades anyway,” he winks before he licks his lip as he shows me his boyish grin. He reaches into his pocket with one hand. The other one glides down my arm, and he takes my hand in his.
“You know I’ve never lived by a plan. I’ve always decided to do what I wanted and no one else really mattered. Since I’ve met you that’s changed. I never thought I’d feel for someone the way I do about you.”
My heart speeds up and my mouth becomes dry. I look up at him, tears filling my eyes. He pulls his hand out of his pocket and opens it to reveal a yellow diamond ring. My jaw hits the floor.
“I tried to talk myself out of doing this more times than you’d believe. And that’s just today. I know you’re graduating next month and moving on to a different phase of your life,” he takes the ring and slides it on my finger. The ring is a perfect fit.
“I don’t want to be a part of your past. I want to be the only person to touch you in ways that give you chills, to whispers things to you that make you turn red. I know there are a lot of things that you want to know about me that I haven’t been exactly open with you about. But know that I love you; I’ve been in love with you longer than I’ve admitted to myself,”
My tongue is completely stuck to the roof of my mouth. I can’t even open it to say anything.
“You always tell me that I need to work on asking for things,” He gets down on one knee. His eyes are bright and his expression soft. I’m trembling; he takes my waist and pulls me onto his bended knee.
“I want you to-I mean. Will you marry me?”
He’s in front of me; the ring is on my finger and this still doesn’t seem real. I never would have guessed this would happen now. I can’t even say anything. Open your mouth! I want to say yes. I want to jump into his arms and tell him yes a million times but something’s stopping me. It’s not me; it’s him. Is he ready? There’s so many reasons that this might not work. I get off of his bended leg, which easily holds my weight and stand and he does the same.
“Are you sure?” I whisper trying to wipe away the tears that keep falling. He stands up and pulls me closer to him, gently cupping my face with his hands.
“No doubt in my mind.” He says adamantly
I rest my head on his chest. Oh God, help me. When I look into his eyes, I lose all doubts, but they don’t go away quietly.
My mind is telling me one thing, my heart another. I can’t help but hear Helen’s words echoing in my head. Have we really come that far since then? I lift my head up and look into his eyes. In one second they ease my doubts but increase so many of my fears. I know that he could break my heart in the blink of an eye.
“Yes,” I say softly. I can’t say no. Why should I? I love him. I’ve been in love with him longer than I want to believe. If I couldn’t touch him, talk to him, feel him. I don’t know what I’d do. I could very easily spend the rest of my life with him. Still...
“Yes,” I say again mostly to myself. I throw myself into his arms and softly kiss his lips before he deepens it. He lifts me up in his arms, and the world spins around me. The little voice in my head is quiet, as tears of joy roll down my cheek.
But all I can think is please don’t break my heart.
June 7th 2011
I wish I wasn’t here. Out of all my worries, my assumptions of what Cal was doing while he was gone, wondering who he was with, what was he doing. The jealousy, loneliness and fear of my imagination used to choke me like a noose. Now being here being without Cal, is worse. So much worse than I could ever have thought, imagined or prepared myself for. There was no way I could prepare myself for this. I think somewhere deep down I knew that this was coming but I hoped that it was unsubstantiated, fear. I’d always tell myself that I was paranoid, that my nightmares were my subconscious feelings about him always being gone so much. Still I felt it coming stronger and stronger as I looked into his eyes these past weeks, as he held me but I looked in the other direction.
The connection I’ve forged with him was trying to tell me, and I didn’t understand. I couldn’t figure it out. Or I didn’t want too. Maybe the entire time I was with him was just a countdown until I’d lose him. It’s been hard living with Cal, loving him for all that he is and all that he wouldn't let me know about him, but I know it’s going to be harder living without him.
The day after he left me was one of the longest, hardest days of my entire life. It seemed as if it would never end. The hours passed like days and there was nothing I could do to make it go faster. I knew when I woke he wouldn’t be here, but still I hoped when I opened my eyes he’d be lying beside me.
He wasn’t, he was gone.
He didn’t take anything with him. The house looks as if he never left.
That’s why I had to leave the house too. Every time the phone rang, my heart began to beat faster. I thought of it being him, but then I’d hear a message from Dexter, Helen, or Raven—anyone but him. Everything I looked at triggered a memory that I didn’t want to think about. Trying not to think about him led me to only thinking about him more.
After about a week of almost losing it, I went back to Angela’s. She welcomed me with open arms again, without asking any questions, even though I’m sure she wanted to. I did my best to hide my feelings; it took all I had to make it look like I was okay, especially when I’d spent an entire week just crying endlessly, not able to control it. The only time I wasn’t crying was when I was sleeping, and then I’d just wake up and start crying again.
“Lauren,” I lift my head to see Angela standing in front of me with a slightly worried expression. She’s been so sweet to me, and I’ve barely said three sentences to her other than “I’m fine,” “don’t worry,” and “goodnight.”
“Yeah,” I say quickly putting on a fake smile, which, I’m sure, isn’t convincing.
“Can we talk?” she asks, biting her lip. The talk, I knew it would come eventually; even the most patient person in the world would have to ask me about what I’m doing here sooner or later.
“Sure,” I nod, sitting up from my default fetal position these past couple of weeks.
“Good.” She smiles and then disappears for a moment, while I get up to fold up my sheets. As I finish, she returns with a gallon of ice cream and two spoons. I smile, wishing this was going to be as fun as the ice cream lead off. She sits down on the couch and pats the seat next to her. I sit beside her and take the spoon she’s handing me. I quickly pop a spoonful of ice cream in my mouth to avoid speaking first.
“So, you know I’m not nosy or trying to pry, right?” she asks quietly. I nod knowing what’s coming next.
“But since you’ve come back, you’ve been like a zombie. You don’t say much, which is fine. I can understand that you may not feel up to talking about how you’re feeling. But whenever I’m home all you do is sleep. You’re not just napping, Lauren, you’re asleep when I leave and when I get home,” she pauses giving me a chance to respond. I really don’t know what to say to her. She’s right.
“You don’t have to talk to me, but I’m here to listen,” she tells me.
I take a deep breath. “Nothing’s wrong,” I mumble, taking another spoonful of ice cream. I look at her through the corner of my eye.
“I heard you crying last night,” she reveals quietly. “I’ve heard you crying the past three nights, and I’m worried about you.”
I open my mouth to tell her again that she doesn’t have to worry, that I’m okay, but suddenly, my stomach starts to churn. I run to the bathroom as fast as I can. Thankfully, the contents in my stomach don’t spill out until I’m over the toilet. When I lift my head up, Angela is staring in the doorway silently with her arms crossed. I look away from the skeptic look on her face and grab my toothbrush.
“Can you guess what I’m about to ask?” she says, handing me the toothpaste beside her.
“It’s not what you think,” I stuff the paste-filled brush in my mouth, taking as long as I can to brush, so I won’t have to face her.
“And you know this for sure?” she asks, sitting on the edge of her tub. I see she’s not going to let up on this. I smile tightly and rinse my mouth.
“I know my body,” I tell her simply, and leave the bathroom. There is no way that I can be…
She follows me back to the living room. “When is the last time you had your period?”
“Three weeks ago,” I say off the top of my head, hoping the questions will stop.
“Was it a full one or…” she continues.
I stop and turn around to face her. “It doesn’t matter, because I’m not pregnant.” I should have gone to a hotel.
“Willing yourself not to be pregnant doesn’t work.”
“Well, birth control does.”
“It isn’t a hundred percent.”
“Well, it is for me.” I say anger creeping into my voice.
“You’re telling me that you never missed using it, or whenever you and Cal had sex, he always wore a condom?” she laughs.
I cover my face with my hands. “I don’t want to talk about this, okay?” I whine covering my face.
“Lauren, you can’t ignore this!”
“I’m not ignoring anything, because there’s nothing to ignore. So what? I’ve thrown up once. It could be what I ate. I could have the flu. It doesn’t mean that I’m pregnant.”
“No, but since you’ve been here, you’ve done nothing but eat, sleep, and cry. I don’t know what happened when I took you home. I haven’t asked you anything, but you aren’t the person I know. Tell me what’s going on,” she asks sincerely.
“He left me, Angie! Cal left me. That is why I’ve been crying,” I say my voice raising. I bite my lip, begging my eyes to stop watering. “I sleep so I won’t have to think about him being gone. I miss him, and I want him back. As screwed up as our relationship was, I want him back. I love him,” I cover my face again.
Angela wraps her arm around me. “Lauren, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was embarrassed. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me but I couldn't stay in that house or go back to my aunts. I didn't want to be alone either. I didn’t want to admit that it’s happening,” I tell her amidst the tears falling from my eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Lauren. I didn’t know. It’s okay to miss him. There’s nothing wrong with that—you’ve been with him the last three years of your life. I’d be worried if you didn’t. I’m sorry. What did he say to you? He didn’t tell you why or where he was going?”
“It’s not important. He’s gone; that’s all.” I grip my forehead in my hands. “Just gone,” I try to compose myself, and I sit down on the couch that has been my bed for the past week. “I don’t know, Angie,” I say honestly, wiping my face.
“Don’t know what?” she asks carefully sitting beside me.
I run my hands through my hair out of frustration. “The last time I had a full period was two months ago. So I really don’t know if- if I’m pregnant. It’s possible. What I do know is that this would be the worst time, the absolute worst,” I whimper, covering my face. “A baby is not what I need right now. I can’t be pregnant.” I fold my arms around my stomach.
“Well, let’s not jump to conclusions; you may not be. After all, stress would cause your period to stop, and you’ve been sleeping because you’re emotionally drained,” she tries to comfort me, but the look in her face is anything but convinced.
“The important thing is that you find out, and then you can figure out what you’re going to do about it, okay?” she says, lifting my head. I smile weakly. She goes to the fridge and hands me an iced tea.
“So, I’ll run to the store and get a test. You stay here and chill. Don’t go to sleep—watch TV, listen to some music, but I’m kicking your ass if you’re passed out when I get back,” she jokes. I smile.
I’m not pregnant. I’m not.
***
“It says to wait five minutes. It’ll be a plus sign if positive, a minus if negative.” She smiles, trying to cover up her own nervousness.
“I know, you’ve told me that twice,” I tell her nervously.
“Sorry,” she bites her lip anxiously.
“God, why is this taking so long? It seems like it’s been 20. How much time left?” I ask, pacing the kitchen again.
“Three. Only two to go,” she says after looking at her watch. “Maybe we should go for a walk, just sitting here waiting is going to drive you crazy,” she suggests.
“No. I need to know that I’m not as soon as possible,” I tell her, playing with my fingertips.
There’s no way I can be pregnant; not now. Not now!
“Okay. It’s five.” I feel my stomach drop. Suddenly I wish I hadn’t taken this test. I want to run out of the house and not look back. If I don’t know I’m not, it’s better than knowing the other possibility. I can’t deal with this right now.
“Lauren, are you okay? You’re turning pale,” Angela says with a worried look on her face.
“I’m fine,” I say trying to convince myself.
“Are you going to go get it?” she asks. I look at the bathroom door; my heart starts to beat faster.