Authors: MJ Duncan
Grey smiled sadly and kissed away Lauren’s tears. “It’s okay, baby. You need to go if you’re going to get to the airport on time.”
“I know,” Lauren whispered. Her feet remained rooted to the spot as she kissed Grey softly, the gentle caress a promise that it would not be the last. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?” she asked as she took that first small step away from Grey.
“Okay.” Grey wrapped her arms around her waist to keep from reaching for Lauren again.
“I…” Lauren’s voice trailed off as she bent down to pick up her bag. “Grey…”
The anguish in Lauren’s voice made Grey’s heart break, and she blinked hard as she tipped her head at the door. “It’s okay.”
Lauren knew that everything was as far from okay as it was possible to be, but she still gathered her bag in her hand and, with one last deep breath to steel her resolve, walked out the door.
It was, she deluded herself into believing, the right thing to do.
Two weeks was not nearly enough time to make any kind of life-altering decision. It was impossible to fall in love with somebody in such a short amount of time. It was all lies, but Lauren held onto them like they were the most impeccable of truths, needing the strength they gave her as she made her way down the stairs and hopped onto the dock. Her strength faltered at the sound of Grey’s agonized sob coming from inside the salon, the sound more akin to one a wounded animal might make than a woman, but she did not dare look back.
She knew that if she did, she would never leave.
She stumbled into motion, her footsteps slow and heavy, her body leaning forward in resistance to the force that tried to pull her back into Grey’s arms. She made her way down the dock, resolutely moving one foot in front of the other, determined to do the mature, rational thing—no matter how much it hurt.
When Lauren had arrived in Manhattan at eighteen, she was young and the crowds and the noise were invigorating. It was a far cry from her quiet, suburban, Midwestern life, and she loved it. And after her first year in the city, she had grown so used to the hustle and bustle, to the screech of brakes and the revving of engines, that all of it had disappeared into the background. It was just life. Busy, chaotic, wonderful life that left her feeling like she could conquer the world.
Now it was just loud. Glaringly, gratingly loud. Even at one in the morning, as she made her way back to her apartment after her first shift back in the kitchen at Clarke’s since returning from the islands not even twenty-four hours earlier. She had stumbled through the day in a fog, her mind constantly replaying the voicemail Grey had left her when she slept through her phone ringing. Two weeks of minimal sleep, combined with a long plane ride and the emotional toll of leaving had left her exhausted, and she had not awoken until well after noon. Grey had not sounded upset at her not answering, more concerned than anything else, but when Lauren called her back it went straight to voicemail. She figured it was because Grey was busy sailing from one location to another, and she had left her a message promising to call again once she finished her shift.
The door to her building closing behind her muted the noises of the city, and Lauren sighed as she crossed the lobby to the elevator that rattled and clacked all the way up to the fifth floor. Her apartment was dimly lit by the city lights that burned outside the floor-to-ceiling windows that ran the length of her apartment, leaving a crisscross grid of murky yellow light across the hardwood floors that were close enough in color to those on the
Veritas
to make her heart ache. She did not bother to turn on any lights as she toed off her shoes and left them on the mat beneath her hanging coats, content to let the cool gray dim of her apartment wrap around her like a blanket as she padded down the hall to her bedroom.
The shadows creeping from the corners, bleeding up over the ceiling and seeping in uneven pools across the floor reminded her of the way the salon of the
Veritas
would look bathed in moonlight, and if she tried hard enough, she was almost able to pretend that she was not in New York.
She stripped off her work clothes as she stood in front of her closet, the bedroom lit by the same muddy yellow light as the rest of the apartment. The chill in the air had her reaching for her most comfortable pair of sleep pants, and her fingers automatically sought and found her favorite gray Henley. The one that still smelled like the detergent Grey favored. The familiar scent was both a balm to her battered soul and a knife to her heart, and she blinked back the tears that threatened as she climbed into bed, so that she could lie down as she talked to Grey and pretend that
Grey was beside her, and not thousands of miles away.
Her call was answered on the first ring, and she smiled at the sound of Grey’s sleepy voice. “Hey, you.”
“Hey,”
Grey murmured.
“You home now?”
“Safe and sound,” Lauren assured her. “How was your day?”
“Long. Had to jump from Charlotte Amalie to Tortola to pick up the charter, and then over to Peter Island for the night.”
“That’s different,” Lauren said, closing her eyes as she leaned back against her pillows.
“Yeah.”
Grey was quiet for a moment.
“How about you? How was your day?”
“Long,” Lauren said, smiling at the way Grey chuckled softly. “I forgot how tiring New York is.”
“It’s definitely not the islands,”
Grey agreed softly.
“Work good?”
“Yeah. It was just work. Nothing exciting.”
“All fingers and thumbs still attached?”
Lauren blew a raspberry into the phone. “Yes. All digits are uninjured and accounted for.”
“Good.”
Grey sighed, and Lauren pictured her running a hand through her hair.
“I have plans for those fingers when I get up there in February.”
“Do you, now?” Lauren chuckled. She looked up at the feeling of Jenks landing lightly on her legs, and she patted the bed beside her, calling him closer. She smiled at the way he purred softly and nuzzled her face, his bright blue eyes filled with the kitty equivalent of concern. “Hey, buddy,” she whispered as she scratched behind his ear.
“Jenks?”
“Mmm, he’s giving me snuggles.”
“Lucky bastard,”
Grey muttered.
Lauren smiled. “If it makes you feel any better, yours are better.”
“Damn right they are.”
Grey blew out a soft breath.
“I miss you.”
Sheets rustled as Grey tried to make herself comfortable, and Lauren smiled sadly as she imagined how beautiful Grey must look in that moment. She rolled onto her side, facing the half of the bed that Grey had always taken, and closed her eyes. “I miss you too.”
It was too late for idle small-talk but neither seemed particularly eager to lose the tenuous connection they shared, so they fell into an easy silence, listening to the other breathe as they each pretended that they were together. Lauren was not sure when she fell asleep, but she woke up some time later to find her phone on the mattress beneath her chin. The screen was dark, and she blinked sleepily as she swiped it open. Instead of the open call screen she saw a text notification, and she smiled as she read Grey’s message.
Sleep well, beautiful. Skype date later?
Will be moored in Jost by 1500…
Three o’clock gave Lauren a few hours before she was to report back to Clarke’s, and she grinned at the idea of actually seeing Grey—not just talking to her.
It’s a date. I’ll be waiting, call when you can.
Be safe.
XO
She fell back asleep with her smile still firmly in place, her right hand curled loosely in the middle of the bed as if she were waiting for Grey to reach out and take it.
Lauren fell back into her usual routine of visiting vendors with Paul Laine—the executive chef at Clarke’s—first thing in the morning for fresh ingredients they would need for that night’s menu, and then going for a run through the park afterwards. She ate lunch at home with Jenks sitting on the table in front of her, and then tried her best to not stare at the clock as she waited for Grey to call. After a week of falling asleep with the phone at her ear, she and Grey agreed to check in with each other during the late-afternoon, after Grey had moored the Veritas for the night and before Lauren had to leave for work. There were days where the ability to call just did not happen, of course, that was the unfortunate truth of their situation, but for the most part it worked out nicely for each of them. Lauren missed falling asleep in the early hours of the morning knowing that Grey was just on the other end of the line, but she comforted herself with the knowledge that at least Grey was getting a good night’s rest.
The holidays had come and gone in a blur, and it was strange for her to think that she and Grey had spent three times the number of days apart than they had together, but every day she found herself missing Grey more. It would have been easier for both of them if their separation had dulled the connection they felt, but it only grew stronger with every passing day. Christmas gifts had been exchanged via Skype, and New Year’s had been rung in over the phone as Lauren snuck off into the alley behind the restaurant at midnight to call Grey and wish her a happy New Year.
They had broached the subject of what they should do the week after New Year’s—but they had yet to come to any kind of an agreement. The
Veritas
was booked for the rest of the season, which meant that Grey was stuck in the islands until at least July, and Lauren had heard her name being mentioned several times as a potential replacement for an executive chef who was on their way out.
The only thing they both could agree on, was that they were anxiously looking forward to the day when Lauren would pick Grey up at La Guardia. Their time together would be short, but after so long apart even four days together sounded like heaven.
Lauren was sitting on the couch in her living room on a Wednesday afternoon the week before Grey was scheduled to visit, listening to a nature track she had purchased off iTunes on repeat—pretending that the sound of the waves crashing from her speakers were real and remembering the way Grey looked standing at the helm of the
Veritas
as they raced over the waves under a full sail. She smiled as her phone on the coffee table in front of her buzzed and came to life, rich violin slurs filling the room and announcing that it was Grey on the other end. “You’re early today.”
“I am,”
Grey replied, her voice light with the sound of her smile.
“Do you need me to call back later?”
“I want you to call whenever you can. Even when you’re drunk,” Lauren said, chuckling softly at the memory of the night of Grey’s seemingly endless drunk dials that had started with Grey confessing how much she missed Lauren and ended with phone sex. “How was your day?”
“The usual. Just kicked the last group off the boat in Charlotte Amalie, which is why I was able to call earlier than usual. You want to Skype?”
“Of course,” Lauren said. She sat up and reached for her laptop that was sitting on the coffee table in front of her. She closed out her iTunes and smiled when a familiar rectangular box popped up on her screen. “There you are,” she murmured when Grey’s face came up on the screen.
Grey was sitting at one of the tables on the back deck, and Lauren’s stomach lurched at the sight. God, she missed that.
“Here I am,” Grey said with a soft smile.
Lauren licked her lips and nodded, taking a moment to just look at Grey. Even though Grey was smiling, her eyes were sad, and Lauren understood without having to ask why that was. Technology was great and it made being apart at least somewhat bearable, but looking at Grey’s image on her computer screen also drove home the fact that they were thousands of miles apart. Her fingers itched to touch, to comb through Grey’s hair, to wrap around the curve of her jaw and hold her close as she kissed her slowly, thoroughly, making her whimper, and Lauren cleared her throat softly as she forced herself back to the present. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Grey whispered. “How was your morning? Anything exciting happen at work last night?”
“Work was work. Jen and I went out for drinks afterwards, so that was nice, I guess.”
“Did you not have fun?” Grey asked, her expression clearly concerned.
“I did. It’s just…” Lauren rolled her eyes. “It’s just weird.”
“Why?”
Lauren shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, we went to our usual bar after work, sat at our usual table, and had our usual drinks just like we usually do. She talked about her husband and I talked about you—she liked that whale joke of yours, by the way—and it just…it just made me miss you more. You would think that I would’ve gotten used to this by now, but I would rather be spending the time talking with you.”