EVOL Page 8

  I look at Paula, with her kind eyes and her small smile. And then I glance past her and see her employee waiting behind her and I decide.

  “Yeah. I’m just a little tired.”

  I shake off the exhausting emotions and head toward the back to retrieve my things. It wasn’t like I had much time for chatting. Sabrina let me borrow her car, the one she rarely uses as she deigns to drive in the city, so I didn’t have to navigate through the flawed public transportation when it came to Mattapan.

  With my things in one hand, I wave at Paula with my free hand and make my way outside. The sun is shining, piercing through the clouds and making me remember warmer times.

  Making me remember a trip I took with Gavin to Toronto.

  The sex, the drizzle, the tequila, his drunken insistence that I was in love with him.

  I unlock Sabrina’s car, a cute little sporty thing, bright red and terrible on gas.

  My phone is in my back pocket and I take it out to sit in the driver’s seat.

  The car starts quietly when I press the button, loving that I don’t have to bother with turning a key. When I check my phone, I see a text message.

  Gavin: I’m about to board.

  Me: Have a safe flight.

  I pull away from the parking spot and onto the street. There isn’t traffic today and I’m lost in thought as I make my way to Sabrina’s apartment.

  Gavin’s on his way here.

  The flutters in my stomach go from nerves to excitement and back again. Because who knows what I’ll be faced with when I see him.

  And I wondered if we’d be able to pick up as if no time had happened.

  I stop at a stoplight and take a deep breath.

  But did I want that?

  For my hurt to be shoved aside and ignored like it meant nothing?

  Of course not.

  And so, we fought.

  Traffic builds up the closer I get to downtown and I miss my neck of the woods in North End.

  When I make it to Sabrina’s apartment, miraculously finding a spot nearly in front of her building, I see her standing at her door, phone to her ear. I get out of the car, grab my things, and press her key fob a few times, making sure the doors are locked.

  “If you’re wanting to keep the white walls, and I wholeheartedly agree with the idea that it looks much cleaner, we’re going to want to invest in some art work, Mrs. Chapman.” She rolls her eyes as she holds the door open for me. We climb two flights of stairs, all while she talks to her client.

  “I can certainly carve time out to visit a few galleries with you. But, tomorrow is a little short no—”

  I can hear the woman on the other line, her voice sounding shrill and words blurring together. Sabrina sits on one of her gray upholstered dining chairs and sets her elbow on the wooden table top. As the woman continues, she braces her forehead with her palm.

  “Well, Mrs. Chapman, I have to be cognizant of the time I’ve booked with others. I’d hate to cancel with another client for you, seeing as I’ve never canceled with you for another client.”

  More shrill sounds and Sabrina attempting to be firm.

  In the end, Mrs. Chapman booked her outside her normal hours for double the fee.

  “Okay. Yes. Sounds great. I’ll see you tomorrow night at six thirty. Yes, good night.”

  Sabrina sighs and tosses her phone onto the table.

  “Pain in my fucking ass.” She snatches up the phone quickly and looks at the screen to make sure Mrs. Chapman is off the line before continuing. “I would never cancel with another client for her. How fucking rude and entitled.”

  “Handled it like a champ, though.”

  Her chair slides against the hardwood floor a little when she leans back and stretches her feet out.

  “It was easy to once she offered to pay double.” Her hands cover her eyes as she continues. “I don’t want to lose her as a client, since she’s one of my biggest. But I also don’t want to lose any others I have because while she has larger projects and demands more of my time, the other clients fill my pockets when people like Mrs. Chapman don’t need me for a while.”

  I nod and glance around her perfect apartment.

  Not a pillow, throw blanket, or magazine out of order.

  The entire place has a gray scale with pops of color here and there. I always loved how she managed to make it look picture ready. Most times, my place looked like it needed a quick pick up, at least. It was never gross, but it certainly looked lived in, unlike Sabrina’s apartment.

  When I look at Sabrina, she’s still sitting there with her elbows on the arms of the chair, fingers pressed to her forehead.

  “He’s on his way?” She sniffs and looks over at me, her shoulders a little more relaxed, her eyes tired.

  “Mhm.” I set her keys in the dish by the front door and place my bags on her sofa.

  “Do I need to be worried?”

  “About what?” My body hits her sofa with force and I grab her remote.

  “My furniture, for one. Secondly, for you.”

  My eyes are focused on the TV as I flip through channels. I’m about to answer when something flies through the air and hits me on the side of my face.

  “What the fuck?” I yell and grab the slipper that fell on my lap. “You’re such a psycho.”

  “And you’re rude.”

  I throw the slipper back at her and it hits her on her shoulder.

  “The only thing you need to be worried about is if I’m going to kill you in your sleep,” I exclaim.

  She drops her slipper on the floor and gets up from the table with a crazy grin.

  “Whatever.” When she plops next to me on the sofa and tucks her bare feet under my butt, I try to push them away. The dedicated gym goer in her isn’t having it and I give up. “What’s your plan?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She grunts a laugh out while I train my eyes on the TV, willing her to be quiet about it.

  “I know you better than anyone in the world. Including that dipshit. So, I know that you already have an idea in your head of how you’d like things to go.”

  The trashy reality show playing does nothing to quiet Sabrina or the thoughts swirling round and round in my head, like circling a drain.

  “Can we just leave it alone?”

  From the corner of my eye, I can see her looking at me, like she wants to prod more. But I just wanted a little peace.

  “Fine.” She adjusts, and we watch the show in silence.

  Before I know it, it’s dark out and my stomach is rumbling.

  “Someone’s hungry.” Sabrina pats my thigh and stands. I look at her as she heads to the kitchen. “What do you want?”

  “What are our options?” I ask from my seat on the couch. I stretch and yawn before pulling my ankle boots off and walking into the kitchen.

  Sabrina’s going through her take-out menus and I shake my head with a laugh.

  “Why don’t you cook?”

  She shakes her head and I open her fridge.

  “Seriously, there’s plenty of food here.”

  Sabrina is still shuffling through menus when I open the freezer and find chicken.

  “Remember that baked chicken you used to make?”

  I’m about to pull the frozen meat from the freezer when Sabrina hits the door with her hip, closing it and nearly hitting my hand with the door.

  “What the hell, dude?”

  “I don’t want to cook unless I absolutely have to.” She hands me two menus she’s settled on. “Pick one.”

  Lebanese and Italian. I mutter that I don’t know why she won’t just cook under my breath as I glance over the menus.

  “I spent a large part of my life cooking for us whenever there was food in that tiny-ass apartment.” She hops on the counter and tucks her feet under her. “Cooking isn’t something I was ever able to do for pleasure. So, it’s not something I like to do now that I don’t have to.”

  I hand her the Italian men
u and tell her to order the scampi with light sauce for me.

  She calls it in and when she hangs up, looks at me.

  “What?” I lean against the kitchen doorway and cross my arms.

  “I think we aren’t as fucked-up as we could’ve been,” she says.

  I pause and smile.

  “This is true.”

  “Even if you don’t want to be one hundred percent open and honest with me.” She hops off the counter with a grin and I chuckle.

  “What do you want me to say?” I ask as I follow her into her bedroom. “That I have this idea that he’ll want to see me as soon as he gets here? That even though he’s coming here for his sister, he’ll still manage to make me feel like I’m not as alone as I’ve been since he left?”

  “Whoa, buddy. You’ve had me all along,” she says as she opens her dresser drawer. Her furniture is all reflective, mirrors on most surfaces. It’s amazing she can keep things smudge-less.

  “But it’s different . . .”

  “Because it wasn’t my baby.”

  My sadness reflects back at me.

  “It was never your responsibility to make sure I was okay.”

  She shakes her head and looks back at me.

  “You’re so wrong, it’s fucked-up.” She pushes the drawer shut, underwear and bra in hand. “I am a forever thing, shorty. He is someone who will be here when he wants to be. There’s nothing keeping him here.”

  I laugh but it’s sad and suddenly, there are tears.

  “But why wouldn’t he want to be?”

  Because for all the bad I’d given, there were still moments of magic, still so much good I’d offered.

  She drops her things on her bed and takes my face in her hands.

  “Men aren’t as strong as we are, I guess.” She presses her fingers under my eyes and wipes my tears away. “Things got hard and he didn’t feel like he had to do this anymore.”

  I shake my head and try to pull away, but she won’t let me.

  “You know you can give me anything. I can handle you. But . . . you trusted that if you gave him your worst, he’d weather that storm.” Her eyes are shining as they look directly into mine. “It isn’t your fault that he wasn’t able to take on that task.”

  I sniff and nod. Her eyes are still drilling into mine and I can’t handle how intense this is getting, so I stare at the floor.

  “He said he hopes we get time together to talk.”

  “He couldn’t just make solid plans to ensure it happens?” She closes her eyes for a second, as if she’s trying to get herself together. “Just do me a favor?” she asks as she lets me go.

  I look back up at her.

  “Don’t forget. Don’t get caught up in how good it feels when he’s back. As good as it is when he’s here, that’s how bad it was when he was gone.”

  Sabrina grabs her things and heads toward her bathroom.

  She can’t see as I nod my head and take a deep breath.

  I’d try to be strong.

  It’s only fair to the person who’d cleaned up the mess Gavin left behind.

  Life is full of near misses.

  But ours was the most heart-breaking of them all.

  Day 368

  I haven’t messaged Gavin in a few days. For two people who used to speak every single day, it feels bigger than it sounds.

  Space, I tell myself. Space for me to heal. Space for him to do whatever it is he needs to do.

  Without me.

  It hurts . . . to realize that he isn’t reaching for me once I’ve pulled away. That he isn’t wondering and hoping and realizing that I’m so far from him.

  Disappointment is like a cloud that follows me at the thought of him letting me go. There’s still so much magic here, even if we both have lost sight of it right now.

  I often entertained the idea of going to Pakistan. I’d look up flights and imagine surprising him and being embraced by his family.

  And while I knew the entire idea of it was ridiculous, it soothed a broken part of me.

  Missing Gavin wasn’t something I was prepared to take on.

  I always figured during our last few weeks that it would be hard, sure. But not as hard as smelling him on my pillowcases and turning in my sleep to reach for him.

  Not as hard as looking at his toothbrush and hearing songs we used to listen to together.

  The problem with having him so immersed in my life was that now that he was gone, all of these holes were here. Holes I’d never had a hard time filling before.

  My sister doesn’t realize I’m so far inside myself that I can barely make out her attempts at conversation.

  Sabrina’s incessant chatting is only met with little punctuations from me; grunts or sounds that encourage her to continue.

  “Remember Jordan?”

  I stop my perusing through the racks at Saks, the sound of the hangers sliding no longer creating a pattern of sound and shoot Sabrina a look of confusion.

  What the hell?

  “Jordan who I was dating before Gavin, Jordan?” Part of me itches at the thought of him.

  “Is there any other Jordan?” She’s holding a floral top to her chest in the mirror and I rip it from her grasp. The collarless button-down look makes me want to gag.

  “Fuck that, I will never let you wear this hideous thing. Also, random. Why?”

  Sabrina takes the top back from me and shoves it on a random rack. Part of me cringes at the action, knowing that someone will have the annoying task of finding it and putting it back where it belongs.

  “One, I can pull it off. Don’t ever doubt me.” She yanks me away from the pleather leggings I was looking at. “Two, no way in hell.”

  I sigh as she takes me by the shoulders and turns me so I’m facing to my left. I open my mouth but before I can ask her what the hell has gotten into her, she speaks.

  “Three, isn’t that him?” she whispers in my ear. I scan the area and zero in on him. He’s perusing through the clothes, not touching anything, his eyes just landing on items here and there. As if he isn’t here to shop, which is strange, considering.

  I’d guess he could feel our eyes on him because he looks up. Those dark eyes widen a bit, his thick eyebrows lifting.

  I always loved his eyebrows. But I never loved his capacity for condescension or the fact that he was always too busy to give me the attention and passion I craved.

  He lifts a hand and waves and Sabrina gives me a push. I look back at her in confusion, wondering if she remembers how awful he was in the end. Or the middle. Or the beginning.

  “He’s already seen us,” she hisses. “Show him how much better off you are without him.”

  I want to laugh because that is so obviously not the case. I’m not in the mood for this charade but she’s right. He’s already seen me.

  I take a few steps forward and he meets me where I stop.

  “Hey,” he offers, opening his arms.

  I end up lifting my hand, evading an awkward hug. He shakes my hand with a soft chuckle.

  “Still hard, after all this time?”

  I want to roll my eyes.

  At least one of us is, I think to myself smugly.

  Things hadn’t always gone smoothly in the bedroom with us.

  I’m about to find an excuse to do anything other than catch up with a man who thinks he still has an effect on me when someone walks up behind him.

  She stops at his back with this massive smile, kindness in her eyes.

  “Hi,” she says, and I wonder what the hell this is.

  “Denise, this is Kim. Kim, meet Denise.”

  She opens her mouth and closes it before offering another smile, smaller this time, eyes a little less kind.

  “Hello.” When she steps around him, I can see items in her hand.

  I glance at them without thought and pause, even as she adjusts them to offer her hand.

  Baby clothes.

  Little gender-neutral pastel onesies. How very fucking Jordan of them.
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  I look back at Sabrina, who’s come up right behind me and placed her hand on my shoulder.

  Sabrina shakes Kim’s hand and introduces herself.

  “I’m Sabrina. You must be his latest victim.”

  Kim frowns and glances at Jordan with an awkward laugh.

  When Jordan looks at me, it’s an uncomfortable glance before looking at the floor and back at Kim.

  The more I look at this woman, with her straight black hair and Asian features, the more I see it. There’s a small bump beneath her shirt.

  He hadn’t had any issues in the bedroom with her.

  “I know it’s so easy to get caught up but just blink if you’d like us to help you get away from him.” Sabrina’s hand on my shoulder massages absentmindedly as she offers little jabs.

  And I just stand there like a mute fool.

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Jordan says as he reaches for Kim’s hand.

  I wonder if his mother dislikes her the way she did me.

  They make a beautiful couple, with Jordan’s dark skin complementing her lighter complexion.

  She isn’t as pale as I am. She isn’t as messed up as I am.

  She isn’t me.

  And while I decided a long time ago that I wasn’t supposed to end up with Jordan, it still hurt to see a dream I once had being lived out by someone else.

  Sabrina says a few more words and pulls me away with a smile and a wave.

  “Nice seeing you, Denise,” Jordan says as I head away.

  “We’re sure,” Sabrina replies, still smiling, and we walk away.

  We make it outside and I double over, clutching my stomach. A moment later, I sink down on my haunches, my world spinning.

  Hot, angry tears spring from my eyes.

  “No, Denise. We’re not doing this here.”

  She tries to lift me, but I snatch my hand away and fall back on my butt.

  “You don’t want that. Come on.” She’s pleading with me at this point.

  I shake my head, so inside myself that I can’t see the world around me.

  But couldn’t she see?

  I take a deep breath and wipe my face, wondering how it got so hot so quickly.

  “He’d wanted children. With me,” I say. My face crumples again. “But it wasn’t happening. So, I kind of just . . . dismissed it. Decided that it wasn’t for me.”