5
I flipped the final page of the article I was proofreading, setting down my green pen. I blinked hard a few times and cracked my knuckles. It was time for lunch, but I planned to work right through it. I would punch out come back to my desk and when it was time I would go back and punch back in. No one argued with me about it anymore. Just to keep the tension down every once in awhile I would actually "go to lunch" and take a walk or something so that people would not worry. However, when I saw Ellie approaching my desk with a smile and determination I knew that today would be different. I smiled up at her when she leaned against my desk with her hip.
"Have lunch with me?" She questioned right off.
I played as if I were contemplating the idea before politely declining and putting the blame on the work that I had to do, which was non-existent. She shook her head, always having an amazing filter for bullshit.
"Scarlett, do you remember when I would come and ask you every day to have lunch with me and every day you would decline then eventually I just stopped asking? Yeah well I'm not taking no. I know for a fact that your lunch is now and you are going to spend it with me. Grab your purse come on." She stood straight giving me a smile before turning on her heel and walking away with me trailing behind her.
I caught up with her just as she reached the elevator. She smiled knowingly and when we entered into the elevator she looped her arm through mine, and then, all of a sudden, she was gushing about her life. Do not get me wrong I liked Ellie, she was a really good person and incredibly nice, but outside of the little ring of girls that we made up within the office we did not have a relationship. I was not too keen on eating lunch, but it was refreshing to have her company. We talked lightly the whole way to the restaurant down the street and around the corner. It was a Mexican food place signaled by the smell of spices and meat as we entered into the building.
A very pleasant woman with golden brown skin sat us down and took our drink orders. I knew that it would soon be time to order food, but how I would get out of it I had no idea. She pored over the menu talking about how great everything looked. I tried to carry a conversation with her about the many delicious options, but every attempt died out quickly as I felt panic rise along with my snarling stomach who desired nothing more in that moment than to be fed. I crossed my arms around my torso in an attempt to contain the disgusting beast. The beautiful smells wafting from the kitchen were making me light headed though. Something in me was determined not to let the beast win, especially not this time.
When the waitress eventually came back she took Ellie's mouth-watering order and I earned strange looks from both of them when I chose a single chicken soft taco. The waitress reminded me that they were not very large. I nodded and thanked her, reassuring her that that was exactly what I wanted. She nodded politely and disappeared back into the kitchen while I avoided Ellie's appraising eyes. They were nothing compared to those of Roman, however, and I could easily brush them off along with her worries with just a pleasant smile.
Eventually, she just let it go making up some reason in her mind that way people always do to rationalize my choices and actions. We even ended up having a really nice time. After we finished eating I excused myself to the bathroom on account of me drinking so much water. I waited until I was alone so that I could stick my finger down my throat the way I had so many times before, when I was younger. I finished quickly and rinsed my mouth out trying to avoid looking at myself in the mirror. I was getting worse, falling back into old ways and bad habits. I could feel it, yet I did not know if I could stop it, nor if I wanted to. I thought of Roman once more and his accusation why are you trying so hard to die.
A couple of days passed with little excitement except for the constant ongoing battle between self-preservation and self-destruction. Every day it became more difficult to resist the urge to reach into my drawer and draw out the box with all of my precious blades. There was a constant yearning and every time I entered the house it grew and every time I looked at Roman's jacket on my dresser it burned. One of the nights it was not just his jacket that burned me, but his voice. I did not recognize the number on my phone; however, I picked it up anyway.
"Scarlett Summer," was his only reply when I greeted him.
"Roman," I breathed into the phone.
"How are you?" His voice was low and commanding.
"I-I'm fine, Roman."
"I have to attend a company party next weekend. Would you care to accompany me?"
"Oh, Roman, I don't know..." I trailed.
"Don't be shy, I'll pick you up at 7:30."
"I don't know if I should," I confessed.
"I have a dress if you would like..." he tried.
"No, I'll dress myself thank you," I said a little bit too curtly.
"So you'll come then," It was not a question is more of a finality as if the decision was made and I could not help but feel like I had been tricked into it.
"I-I," I sighed, "I'll see you at seven thirty Roman."
"Great." I could hear the triumph in his voice. "Goodnight Scarlett Summer, dream about me."
"Goodnight Roman." Was my only response, but I did in fact dream of him that night much to my dismay.
Days passed slowly as I waited for each of them to end, but when one ended another began and the cycle repeated. I could feel that unnamed sinking weight in the pit of my stomach pulling me down. By then end of the week I was just about willing to do anything for it to go away. That is how I found myself at a bar. I knew I could not get drunk and forget everything else, because there was no one to watch me. I tried to let go. The bar was crowded and music played. Happiness seemed to flow all around me, but it did not reach me. I could almost tangibly feel the happiness as if it were a real person poking at me trying to wiggle its way in. But how could I let it in, when I did not deserve to feel the way everyone around me did.
Suddenly, the "pokes" of happiness were from a finger and instead of touching my whole body it was just my shoulder. I turned around and was met with face with a man who looked like he was in his thirties and approaching his forties. He was an attractive man with sandy brown hair and a shot of gray through his hair. He was tall too, maybe not as tall as Roman, but he dwarfed me, granted I was not wearing heels.
"How are you tonight miss?" He greeted and I picked up a slight foreign accent.
"Oh, you know, just enjoying a night out after work." I smiled up at him shyly.
He laughed and nodded, "I understand that. Tell me, is a pretty girl like yourself enjoying your night alone?"
I nodded wordlessly looking at my feet then looking back up to meet his eyes. They were blue, but instead of the vivid color of the sea they were the clear color of a river, easy to read and what I found in them was curiosity.
"Um, yeah." I answered eventually.
"Well since you're far too attractive to be all alone may I ask you to dance?" He offered his hand out to me.
My eyes darted back and forth between his eyes and his outstretched hand multiple times before I finally took it with an intake of breath. He grinned and pulled me onto the dance floor with the rest of the people dancing and drinking. There were no flashing lights or intoxicating aura, but it was all the same: I was in the middle of a room full of people and I just danced.
Sometimes I could feel his arms around me and at other times I felt deftly alone. I gravitated to whoever I was closest to letting them be my anchor until I set sail again to the next port. When I finally did take a break I was surprised to find that he was still close behind me. When we were out of the crowd he smiled down at me, his eyes crinkling in happiness and lines forming around his mouth.
"You've got quite the movement, young lady." He complimented.
I thanked him and smiled.
"Can I buy you a drink?"
I nodded once again.
At the bar he ordered and we began to conversate. He was from Maine, but his mother came from Australia and his father from France. He told me that this was one of his first stops tonight as he made his bar rounds. Then I was on the back of his Harley heading to the next bar.
The night air was cold and nipped at my skin. I was painfully aware that I was on the back of a man I barely knew's motorcycle heading to what he says was a bar, but he could just as easily take me somewhere completely different.
A panic rose and I saw the building of another bar come into view and even when we pulled into parking lot it did nothing to reassure me. He helped me off of the bike and as soon as we entered the door I excused myself into the bathroom there was only one other girl and soon after I arrived she exited.
I quickly locked myself into a stall feeling the stress creep into my veins and rush through my bloodstream. Suddenly, the air was too thick and my lungs would not cooperate. The stall began to sway while I tried to remember the words that people used to tell me when I was having a panic attack. It's all in your head, just breathe, focus on something, this is only temporary.
I slid down the wall chest heaving. I had to get out of here and now. I fumbled my phone out of my pocket and tried to focus as I opened my contacts Avery was first but instead of calling my finger hesitated over the call button. What would she think? She would realize that maybe I am not okay as I say I am. Who else though? I could not call Nat either I thought as I continued scrolling with my chest burning. Roman's name flashed across my screen. I knew it was dumb and impulsive as I pressed the inviting green button. There was no turning back.
"Scarlett Summer, what a-,"
"Roman," I wheezed out.
"What's wrong," his voice became serious and filled with tension that mirrored my own. My only answer was my attempt at breathing. "Scarlett answer me, now." He demanded.
"Roman, I... I need you.... You to come get... I'm sorry... please." I forced out.
"Where are you?" I could hear him moving in the background as I rattled off the name I seen as we arrived. "I'm coming to get you."
"I'm... in the... bathroom." And then I hung up.
I pulled my knees up to my chest and closed my eyes tightly hoping to block everything out. It felt like everything around me was crashing down. My lungs would not work correctly and I felt as though there was a very distinct possibility that I would die. Nothing worked and time passed agonizingly slowly as I waited for Roman to come.
I knew it was him when I heard the sound of the door slamming open as he shouted my name. He pounded on the stall until I reached up and unlocked it. As soon as the door was open he was on the floor in front of me kneeling on his knee. I released my hold on my knees and lunged to him wrapping my arms around him. I felt him hold me to his chest as he stroked my hair.
"Sh sh sh sh sh, nothing is going to hurt you. Everything is okay baby." He cooed.
There was nothing about Roman that I ever found soothing or calming, but in that moment he was the anchor keeping me from floating up into the sky and being lost into the dark universe alone with nothing but my thoughts. In his arms, I finally calmed, letting the waves recede just little enough for me to breath. When he finally did break away from me my lungs were properly functioning. He held my face, brushing hair away and swiping his thumbs under my eyes to wipe away the salt water that had fallen. He searched my eyes looking for something unknown.
"Are you okay? Did someone hurt you or attack you?"
I vigorously shook my head; the only harmful one here was me.
"How did you get here?"
"A- a guy that I met at the bar before this one he brought me, o-on his motorcycle."
His face hardened, but he continued, "How did you get there?"
"My car."
"Who is he? Do you even know his name?"
"No," I breathed shakily feeling shame crash down around me.
"Christ Scarlett," he hugged me to him again, "Come on." He helped me up and kept hold of me.
He led me back out keeping his arm around my waist. As we crossed the bar, I caught the eye of the man I had so recklessly trusted. He seemed confused as I watched his eyes dart up to a very daunting Roman. I did not blame the guy for not coming over to me. As I left, a thought dawned on me: why should I trust Roman any more that the innocent man that I met tonight? I looked back as I walked away seeing the man's eyes filled with conflict.
He took me out to his car, opened the door, and gently put me inside. When we began to drive he started to put the top down, but I quietly asked him not to. The whole time I stared out the window curled up in the front seat of his car in full blown introspection. No matter how long I thought or tried to rationalize everything that happened tonight nothing made sense and I was only angering myself.
I had called Roman of all people and everything was feeling like a really bad TV show drama. It was not like I had many other options, if I called any of my family members they would be reminded of the panic attacks that I suffered after Jamie's death and they would for sure know that something was wrong.
I could have called one of the girls, but none of our relationships seemed to warrant that. Maybe Ellie, but she would figure that something was wrong and she would probably end up telling Avery or Nat anyway to make sure that I would be okay. That left Roman. The only one who knew that nothing about me was okay, the only one whose view of me would not be altered.
Of everyone that I know he was both the most recent in my life and the one who understood me best, and that was terrifying. In an instant he could pick me apart without even a word from me. He was not breaking down my walls; he was smashing through them which only made me build them up even quicker.
"Have you eaten today Scarlett?" He asked into the darkness of the car.
"What are you going to do if I answer?"
I heard him sigh heavily off to my side. I could feel the tension stretch like a taut rubber band stretched incredibly far. If one side were to let go the other side would snap and be hit by a simple, little piece of rubber, but it would hurt like hell nonetheless. He pulled into the parking lot of a diner and the tension grew.
"Roman, please don't do this."
He parked, and then he turned to me. "Have dinner with me Scarlett."
He exited the car and opened mine offering his hand to me. I took a deep breath and clasped his hand. I felt his warmth shoot through me, pushing away the cold. He kept my hand even when I wanted to pull mine away. In the small diner, a very nice redhead woman sat us and took our drink orders. There were a couple of people at the bar and a few people sprinkled in the booths, but the building's noise level was not raised above a soft buzz.
He looked over the menu and I watched him as I pretended to look over mine. His eyes met mine above his menu and I could see that calculating gaze he held. He found what he was looking for when he closed the menu and set it down. I copied his movements but instead of my fingers creating a steeple and resting my chin on them I knotted them in my lap.
We waited silently after Allella, our waitress, took our orders. I earned a pleased smile when I ordered the bacon and tomato grilled cheese. When our food came the silence was shattered by Roman's voice.
"What you did tonight-,"
"Was dumb. I know. None of it made sense."
"No, but it did. It a made a world of sense for you. You're falling apart, Scarlett. You won't tell anyone how you feel, but you still feel it. You are so alone so often and it is scary for you being alone. It was a last resort. It was you trying to connect without having to open up."
I stared at him dumbstruck to say he hit the nail on the head was an understatement. He continued eating letting me process all of his words. Eventually, I began to eat again avoiding Roman's gaze. He was always so nonchalant about everything. When I finished, eating I told him that I was going to go to the bathroom. His hand shot out and gripped my wrist. A pointed look froze me in place until he paid for the check and we went back to the car.
The ride home was quiet while I stayed curled up in the seat with my head against the window watching the city pass by. He did not interrupt my train of thought and found his way to my apartment without my aid. What he said was correct, everything. The feeling was back, the way that he picked me apart and he left me feeling like a carcass that not even vultures would want. I looked over at him perplexed though, for some reason he was here, and not just because I called him, but he had been insistent upon my company.
He parked the car and looked over catching me red handed staring at him, "Do- do you want to come upstairs?" I blurted out.
"Yes, I would."
We walked silently side-by-side up to my apartment and I could feel his energy radiating off of him, soaking my bones through. As soon as I stepped through the door, flashes of the last time we were together here went through my mind. I quickly walked past the entryway and into the room leaving Roman to close the door. I heard the click of the lock as I began pulling cups and alcohol out of the cabinets.
He made his way into the kitchen leisurely looking around and assessing my home. His eyes strayed to my bedroom a bit longer than anywhere else and caused a flush to rise in my cheeks. I poured the drinks and walked over to him taking in his simple white t-shirt and simple dark wash blue jeans. He smiled and took the glass from me, making sure to brush my hand as he went. He raised his glass towards me, raised his eyebrows, and took a sip, keeping his eyes locked on mine over the rim of his glass until he was done.
"Scarlett Summer," he murmured taking a step forward and brushing my hair behind my ear.
I watched his hand and nuzzled into it instinctively when it landed on my cheek, his large hand encompassing the side of my face, before snapping back into reality and retaining myself. When I looked into his eyes I could see the calm waves stirring.
"Do you want to watch some TV or..." I trailed.
"Or," he groaned, "yes, TV, sounds good." He removed his hand and turned on his heel.
He waited for me to go ahead of him as I took my seat on the couch and turned on the TV. He sat close to me letting his spread out knees bump against the knees of my legs curled under me. We flipped for a while before settling on a TV movie. For the most, part we stayed in silence sipping on our drinks.
He kept his arm stretched out across the back of the couch behind me and eventually I let myself cuddle under him, letting him believe that I was not aware of my sleepy actions. Eventually, the movie went off and I felt his hand against my hair. I opened my eyes to his own and the waves were soft and lulling. He smiled softly.
"It's late," he told me, "almost two."
"Stay?" The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it.
He chuckled. "Do you really want me to?" I thought about it for a little bit before deciding that yes, I did want him to stay. Even if he was on the couch the cold loneliness would be more bearable.
"Yes," if he was surprised he did not show it.
He nodded, "Okay, if you so please."
I stood up looking down at him on the couch with his limbs spread out and relaxed. It was almost as if he did not belong on my old little college couch that was a shade of dusty rose. He looked up at me too and the heat in his gaze caused a flush to flash through my body. It was so unusual, to be capable of this kind of heat.
"I, um, I'm gonna change." I pointed towards my room aimlessly before walking to it in the same fashion.
As soon as I was in the closet, I cursed myself for my stupidity. Maybe I should have gone back out and told him that I had a lapse in judgment and that is would be better for him to leave, I thought to myself. I did not want him to, though. But was I comfortable sharing a bed with him? Could I really just tell him to sleep on the couch though?
I sighed as I pulled off my pants and replaced them with my fleece pajama pants. My shirt was replaced with a tank top and I figured that I did not have to sleep with the discomfort of my bra on account of Roman. When I walked back out to the couch, Roman eyed me and I kept my arms firmly crossed over my body. I opened my mouth to speak and was abruptly cut off.
"I am perfectly fine sleeping on the couch Scarlett."
I took a step back, caught off guard. Of course he knew what I was going to say. "I, um, yeah."
He stood up and my momentary height advantage was diminished. He stepped forward to me and looked down at me while I had to bend my head almost all the way back to look up at him. "I do wish that I could enjoy the privilege of having you next me when I sleep."
"It's really not much of a privilege at all I assure you. Especially if I'm having a nightmare, which occurs far too often for my taste."
He reached out to my elbow, "Mm, it could be quite enjoyable to feel you squirming against me." He said with a double edged sword that managed to shorten the air supply.
"Roman," I breathed.
"Oh there you go again," he whispered while his other hand rested against my other elbow.
"It gets really cold here, I should get you a blanket."
"Oh I'm quite warm right now Miss Johnson."
"I believe that it's getting quite late Mr. Mason," I mirrored him.
He leaned forward letting his nose press against my forehead before he trailed it down the bridge of my own and once it reached the tip he turned his head to the side letting his lips part in just the slightest. I felt his breath against my own mouth which I too had parted. His mouth hovered over mine tauntingly daring me to make a move. My breath had quickened and my chest was straining against my arms. Then I did something that surprised us both.
I pulled away.
"Blankets. I should get you some blankets." I stepped back out of his grip avoiding his eyes and turned away.
When I returned he had toed himself out of his shoes and worked his way out of his pants. His hand was at the back of his neck gripping the collar in preparation. I watched the way his arms flexed with the movement and then he was pulling it over his head and I was graced with the sight of his bare upper body. It was just as anyone would have suspected. He was not by any means a small man. Not only was he massive in the height department, but the rest of his body was just as intimidating, packed with hard muscle and broad shoulders. I met his eyes and held out the blankets I had collected for him. He grinned his platinum smile and took them from me.
"You know after assessing this couch I'm re-evaluating whether I'll even be able to fit." He joked. When I did not know how to answer he continued, "I'll manage."
I nodded. "Well, goodnight then?"
"Goodnight then." He nodded.