I didn't know what the fuck was going on.
All I knew is that I loved the feeling of Sadie's mouth against my own, warm and soft. And I loved the feeling of Sadie's hands as they wrapped around my waist, holding me so tightly like she was afraid I would disappear if she let go. Or turn into a pile of ash on the floor. To be fair, I was afraid I would, especially when I felt her tongue brush up against the entrance of my mouth, an invitation I welcomed gladly.
I heard the desperate whisper of her rapid breath and felt the loud drum of her heartbeat close to my own, making my chest ache with some overwhelming emotion I couldn't place. My hands left her face, getting lost in her beautiful, silky hair.
I couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. I wanted Sadie. I wanted her so much. It wasn't until this moment that I realized how much I needed to feel all of her all at once. I felt my own leg instinctively slide between hers, pressing against where I knew she needed me most. She let out a choked gasp that made something inside me flutter that hadn't been awakened for a very long time.
I needed more. God, I needed more. My hands left her hair, running down her shoulders, down her back, and grabbing her ass, as the rest of my body continued to press her into the elevator wall. I felt her panting against my mouth as I felt her own hands leave my waist, going higher. Higher.
Suddenly the elevator pinged, and both of us jumped backwards as if struck by an invisible force. I panickedly fixed my blouse and hair, looking up to see her doing the same. The elevator was moving upwards, probably towards the 10th floor where all of the partners worked. I would rather die than be caught making out with my coworker in the pristine yet ridiculous confines of one of Park & Johnson's newly renovated elevators.
I turned around to face the elevator's silver, reflective wall, wiping away my smudged lipstick with the back of my hand. I turned back, noting the same thing had occurred with Sadie's own lipstick. Instinctively, I walked over to her, reaching out and wiping it away, acting more out of self-preservation rather than compassion. I saw the predictable flush return to her face, as she turned away from me, her heavy breathing the only remaining evidence of what we had done.
When the elevator doors finally opened and two partners I had met on a couple of occasions stepped in, I knew it appeared as if nothing had happened, the crime we had committed merely a figment of our own imaginations. And that's exactly how it felt, like a perplexing dream I would continue to think about in the days to come.
Hell, I didn't even know I was gay. All I knew, is my reaction to her - how my heart rate seemed to sync with hers, how my stomach seemed to ignite in flames, how my ability to breathe seemed to abandon me - was very very real.
The partners were expectedly oblivious, conversing with each other about the latest case they were working on. I wondered if this would be my life if I received my long-desired promotion. I wondered if I would become completely wedded to my profession, just like the workaholics in the movies or my family's unheeded warnings if I continued my crazy hours and crazier ambitions.
I looked up, my eyes magnetically drawn to Sadie's who was separated from me by the elevator's new occupants. Hers were faintly dazed and glassy, probably from the intensity of our encounter only moments before. I felt the involuntary urge to walk over to her. To hold her face in my hands and look into her eyes, grounding her until the expression on her face was clear again. I buried that feeling deep inside of me.
After an eternity, the elevator doors opened once more. Out of courtesy, I let everyone walk out before me. I turned towards Sadie, hoping to talk to her or at least get some insight on what had just transpired. I needed to know if it had actually happened or if it really had been some twisted daydream.
But when I looked for her, I realized she was gone. I walked out of the elevator, scanning the building for any sign of Sadie, but she had vanished, disappearing into the chaotic order that were the streets of Chicago.
~~~
Since the visit to the police station, I hadn't heard anything from Christian. So I was understandably surprised when I found my apartment occupied by his presence. An overwhelming sense of dread filled me as I felt my fight-or-flight kick in. But something inside of me willed me forward into the space as I experienced a feeling of sudden calmness. Everything is okay, it reassured me.
"Christian?" I called out hesitantly, my voice breaking slightly. "What are you doing here?" I chuckled uneasily. The aroma of marinara and baked chicken filled my senses, making me falter in confusion. Christian loved to cook, but it usually happened when I was over at his apartment, rarely when we were at mine.
I walked slowly towards the kitchen, finding Christian standing over the stove, stirring a pot's unknown contents with intent. He looked up, and I was greeted immediately by one of his wide smiles. Although a rare occurrence, Christian could smile like there was nothing wrong with the world. Looking at him made me feel like good things were bound to happen. Because how could they not when he was looking at me with that smile and those dazzling dark eyes?
Against my will, I felt myself smiling back tentatively, unsure the reason for his genuine expression of joy.
"You didn't answer any of my texts," I said. "Or any of my calls." He returned to cooking.
"Yeah, sorry about that, babe," he responded with a sigh. He actually sounded apologetic. "I've been occupied lately." There was a knowing lilt to his voice that revealed he'd also experienced an encounter with the police.
Being with him for so long, I'd become well-versed in his mannerisms and micro-expressions. I didn't really have a choice. I had to be in order to keep him happy.
"So... how are you doing? What are you making?" I asked, unsure what to say next. He suddenly looked up at me, his eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly, making my insides turn cold. But his expression returned to normal instantly, making me feel ridiculous for my acute reaction.
"Oh, Margot," he replied, his voice light. Too light. "You don't have to bullshit with me. I know you." He smiled again. This time it was a little less genuine than the one before it.
"What do you mean?" I questioned, my eyebrows knitting in confusion. "I don't understand what you're implying, Christian."
Christian sighed again. "I'm just saying that you don't have to pretend with me. For instance, you don't have to play dumb right now. We both know you're crazy smart." He smirked. "So tell me, how were the cops last night? Were they assholes to you like they were to me?"
I felt myself go numb. "Christian, I don't know what to say," I said quietly.
"It's okay, Margot. I'll lay it out for you," he said, his voice lowering. His tone bordered on patronizing. "That dumb bitch next door was meddling in our business."
A wave of relief washed over me, causing my body to relax. He didn't blame me. He knows it was Sadie. But there was another emotion diluting the relief, one that felt a little bit like anger. Was I getting defensive over Sadie? My Sadie, an intrusive thought emerged. I wanted to slap some sense into myself.
"Yes, I figured it was her," I replied nonchalantly. "She must've heard something. The walls are thin, Christian."
"No shit," he muttered, practically snarling. "How dare she? All up in our fucking business. She knows absolutely nothing about us."
"I agree," I said, attempting indifference once again. But it came out all wrong, sounding almost desperate.
My mind returned to the events of last night, wondering what occurred merely meters away from the cold and uncomfortable room I sat in.
"So what happened at the station? Are you okay?"
Christian sniffed indignantly. "I'm fine. Not much happened, really. It was a formality. They asked some questions, and a detective came in at one point. But I must have said something right because they let me out only a few hours later." He paused for a moment, observing me. "Of course they're going to send someone to check up on me every now and then. Just to make sure everything is okay."
"Really, that's it?" I inquired, sounding surprised.
"I mean, what else could they do, babe?" he asked. "They couldn't keep me there forever. Not when I'm innocent." He shook his head like the whole thing was absurd. "Anyways, I really don't want to talk about this right now." He paused his cooking to walk over to me, planting a kiss on the top of my head, something I used to love. "How was work?"
As we went through our usual back and forth, I noticed he was making my favorite dish: pasta with chicken and marinara sauce. But despite his impossibly kind behavior, something still didn't feel right.
Finally, as we sat together at my table, enjoying our pasta in silence, everything began to make sense as puzzle pieces fit together in my mind. Christian was putting on a show. This was all an act, a ruse to convince Sadie that everything was okay.
Christian knew that the walls were thin. He knew that Sadie was the one who reported him to the authorities. He knew that Sadie, God bless her soul, thought she was doing the right thing. Christian was ensuring that there would never be a domestic violence report again.
An overwhelming feeling of disgust washed over me as I suddenly became sick to my stomach. It was all a hoax. I felt bile rising up in my throat, but I forced myself to push it down. Cherish it, some demoralized part of me insisted. He's being the perfect boyfriend. Enjoy it while it lasts.
And despite everything inside me willing me to leave now, abandoning this perfect façade before things got worse. Before things returned to normal. I chose to stay, listening to that voice despite its questionable assertions.
It was true. I wanted Christian to love me. I wanted him to validate me, to prove that I was more than the hopeless, flawed mess of a person that I knew I was. Shit, I wanted to feel appreciated for once. I wanted to feel like I was enough.
That night, Christian and I slept together. But when I closed my eyes, I imagined the sweet smell of her perfume and the feeling of her lips on mine.