We built our own morning routine over the following couple of weeks.
Usually, it went much like it went this morning.
Gabe's alarm clock would ring at some ridiculous hour –usually around 4:30 AM. I would try to drown out the shrill sound of it by burying my head underneath my pillow while he rose from bed with an alarming amount of energy. He would then try to coax me into getting up with him and engaging into some overly vigorous physical activity, such as running, to which I would reply only in muted groans.
He then proceeded to call me "grandma" and go downstairs. Once in his kitchen, he would continue his morning racket by preparing one of his green smoothies –with protein powder added –and then he would be back in his room to change into his workout clothes while I tried to watch him from beneath the covers as discreetly as I could.
More often than not, he caught me looking and would smirk at me, flex his muscles playfully, not aware of the effect his little display had on me. He would then once again try to convince me to get up and tag along. I would hide under the covers and he would scoff, and then proceeded to leave and go do something nonsensical, like jog a couple of miles to the 24-hour gym.
This morning, I got up before he came back and prepared breakfast for him, which consisted of eggs, sausages, a small heap of fruit which he bought at the local farmer's market, and black, unsweetened coffee.
His face lit up like a kid's on Christmas when he came home to his breakfast already sitting on the table and his crisp white shirt ironed and hanging on a coatrack on his closet's door.
"The only way this could get any better would be if I walked in on you making my breakfast completely naked. Maybe with an apron, just to leave something to the imagination."
He then sat down at the table and proceeded to inhale his breakfast in about three forkfuls.
It was strange, how I vacillated between absolute happiness and the darkest, most abysmal despair over the next few weeks. There was a sharp contrast between those nearly perfect mornings, and the moments right after, once I left his apartment and was left to ruminate over the same doubts time and time again. Perhaps even more astonishing was how well I managed to convince myself that I could actually keep doing this, all the while pretending that I wasn't slowly losing another piece of myself whenever I saw Gabriel.
We toed a dangerous line –there was no denying that we'd crossed well into relationship territory. We did everything a couple would do, except for one thing. We never said "I love you". It was the one boundary I knew he would never cross, no matter how much each one of his actions communicated the sentiment.
There was something thrillingly illicit about the whole thing. The way he would nearly always say that we had to stop, that we couldn't keep doing this, that it was wrong, only to then proceed to take me to bed and make me scream his name time and time again gave me a sick sort of satisfaction.
Maybe the whole arrangement wouldn't have been quite as difficult on my mental state if he didn't act so very... loving. There was no other way to put it. The way he would lay next to me after we were done, his fingers gently tracing patterns over my freckles, the way he looked at me, his eyes tender and soft, the way he kissed my shoulder first thing in the morning, no matter whether he thought I was awake or asleep, the way he held my hand when we went out together–it all played with my head, made me feel as though we could someday be more than this.
And yet every time I thought I'd amassed enough courage to broach the subject of our future with him, he would say something that shot me down immediately.
"I really enjoy this friendship of ours."
"That's what friends are for, right?"
But it wasn't all bad –at home, things between T&T had quieted down. Now that Amanda was going through chemotherapy, they'd united in order to support her. Tyler drove her to and from her treatments, Tina did her best to cook, I cleaned and bought the groceries, and my dad worked double shifts nearly every two days to support us financially. We'd become a recomposed family of sorts, and it no longer felt as though we were all in a storm, holding on to our own little piece of raft, barely alive. Somehow, we'd managed to get through the worst of it, and now that there was a clear plan established, we felt as though we at least had some sort of path traced for us, a guideline to follow. There were steps to take, a protocol, and we put all our faith in the miracles of modern medicine. Nobody dared to think of what would happen if it all failed. For now, we refused to think of failure as a possibility.
And it worked.
In all of it, I'd nearly forgot that my father and I were still paying rent on our own apartment –breaking the lease would cost us more than keeping it until the lease's end in august.
I'd tried to stop coping with everything by cleaning, but every time I saw Gabe, I felt as though someone was driving a knife directly through my heart, and so one day I finally snapped.
I took the bus to our old apartment and got into a cleaning frenzy –I had a day off and nothing to do, and so I brought in all of my cleaning supplies and got to work. It was a good thing I did, as it turned out. That fateful morning months ago, in our haste to move, we'd left our apartment exactly in the state it had been the previous night. There was still food in the fridge –all expired and in miserable shape by now, and so I started by emptying it, and then let it defrost, and then scrubbed it down meticulously, focusing solely on the task at hand.
It was around three PM when I was interrupted by a knock on the door. I hesitated before I got up and opened it.
Gabriel stood on the other side, grinning that irresistible smile of his. He must've come straight from work –he was still dressed in a suit, his tie loosely hanging around his neck, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattooed forearms, his suit jacket slung casually over one shoulder.
I was taken back to the first time we'd seen each other exactly here, only at that time he'd been threatening to kill me. Funny how the tables have turned.
"How did you know-?"
He slipped inside and kissed me before I could finish my question, kicking the door shut behind him.
"I asked Tina. I tried texting you, but you didn't answer. Too busy cleaning, I see."
He pulled off my yellow gloves and kissed me again.
"But we were supposed to see each other later, did something happen?"
He shook his head even as he untucked my tee from my shorts. "No, I just missed you." He pressed his lips against mine again, and his hands slipped underneath my shirt, sending my heart into overdrive.
I grabbed his wrists and pulled away. "Gabe, wait. I'm not done here."
He looked around, with one eyebrow raised slightly.
"Isis, c'mon, this place is spotless. You've done more than enough."
"I wanted to polish the floors."
"And I wanted to eat you out." He grinned and I could feel my cheeks reddening. "No wait, I wanted to take you out to eat. I was thinking dumplings, won ton soup, and then we could go back to my place? For dessert, I thought I could put some whipped cream, maybe even some chocolate syrup on your –"
I placed a hand over his mouth, and his smile widened. He pulled my hand off his lips and he kissed me once more, deeper and longer, and my legs nearly gave out.
"I really missed you, princess. Let's go get some dinner. And then let's really go back to my place. I want to do bad things to you." He kissed my forehead.
"Oh, Gabe, you're –"
"What? Incredible? Amazing? Devilishly handsome? A great fuck?"
"I was going to say impossible. But those work too." I looked down at my track shorts and oversized Harvard tee. "I'm not dressed up enough to go out."
"You look perfect, let's go," he said dismissively, his eyes appraising my frame with obvious appreciation. It felt as though my whole body lit up from the inside. I wished he knew just how much little remarks like that affected me, how he could make me feel more beautiful than anyone ever had, with just one glance.
But instead of telling him any of that, I rolled my eyes. "Easy for you to say when you're wearing a suit. I'm going to take a quick shower and change, then we can go."
Gabe took his tie off and flung it over the back of the living room couch. He slipped into the bathroom after me and then made me back up until I was pressed up against the counter.
I looked up at him and he kissed me again, no smile this time, just a burning intensity in his dark eyes.
He pulled away and framed my face in his hands with an infinite gentleness.
"I just want to take you away and never come back."
"Take me where?" I asked softly. I could lose myself in his eyes, in his touch, in the tenderness that radiated from him in this moment.
"Anywhere. Just away from here. Preferably somewhere hot. With beaches. And pina coladas."
"I would like that. I've never travelled outside of the country, you know?"
His eyes softened and he brushed his thumb against my lower lip. "I'll take you wherever you want before the end of the summer. Just you and me, and a hotel room with a king sized bed in a country far away from here."
"You're such a pig."
"But you love it."
I froze for a moment, as though paralyzed by his casual use of the "L-word", realized that I'd frozen, and prayed that he didn't notice. But Gabe just pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose and pulled away.
"I have to do something. It'll take three seconds. I'll be waiting for you in the living room."
He left the bathroom without any further explanation and I watched him go quizzically.
I took a quick shower, tried to detangle my hair, gave up halfway and threw it up into a sloppy bun at the top of my head.
I changed into an old summer dress I'd left behind in my closet –it was flowery, flowy and barely covered my butt, all things I despised now.
Once I emerged from my bedroom, Gabe whistled appreciatively and I tried to not act too flustered.
"I just need to stop by Mrs. Gonzalez' to pay rent and then we can be on our way," I said as I grabbed my tote bag and took out the last of the cleaning supplies I'd left in it, lining them up on the kitchen counter.
"I don't think so."
I frowned at him. "C'mon Gabe, it'll be a minute at most. I just need to give her the check for the next month and we can go."
"There's no need for that, love."
"Gabe." There was now an exasperated note to my voice.
"Yes?" he asked innocently.
"Just shut up and come with me."
"No need. It's all taken care of."
I dropped my tote bag onto the couch and planted my hands on my hips. "What does that mean?"
He looked like the cat that ate the canary as he tilted his head to the side innocently.
"It means that your rent is taken care of." He got up in one quick bound and walked to the door, all the while putting his tie back on loosely.
I stood rooted to the spot, my mouth slightly open, watching him go.
"Gabe! You- you can't just do that kind of stuff without asking me first."
He smiled an unapologetic grin over his shoulder. "I'd much rather ask for forgiveness than for permission. What's done is done, princess. Let bygones be bygones. And let's go eat, I'm starving."
I grabbed my tote bag wordlessly and followed him outside.
I spent the whole ride from our old apartment to the Chinese place completely mute, stubbornly staring out the window.
He didn't try to chat either, and when we finally got to the restaurant, he was obviously peeved.
We sat at a table for two near the vitrines with a perfect view of the street outside, dim in the shade of the tall buildings of downtown Boston. The atmosphere inside the restaurant was calm and muted, and it was only lit by artfully crafted Chinese lanterns, strung over every table –it created the illusion that each single table was its own private universe. The décor was modern and sleek, and a plethora of plants were hung from the ceiling, creating a canopy overhead. It was very obviously an expensive place, and that only made me sulkier. I didn't even try to hide my displeasure as we settled into our seats.
Gabe looked at me over the menu and frowned.
He managed to keep it in, right until after we both ordered and he handed our menus back to the waitress.
"I really don't understand why you're making such a big deal out of this." He spoke softly yet firmly, as if not to disturb the tinkling of utensils against the delicate porcelain, the low murmur of the conversations around us, and underneath it all, the soft notes of a harp.
"I don't want you doing that kind of thing without asking me... It's just... just not right, Gabe."
"Isis, it's nothing. I just wanted to help. Isn't that what friends do? Consider it to be a friendly gesture."
"It's not nothing, Gabe. That kind of thing... rent ... it's a lot of money for me. It might be nothing for you, but I work long hours to be able to get that kind of money."
He was silent for a while, just staring at me, his expression impenetrable.
I took a sip of my water to try and clear my throat, which was beginning to close up –I could feel my ears heating up and that uncomfortable ache behind my eyes that foretold upcoming tears.
"I'm sorry, Isis. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." Gabriel said finally, his voice cool and emotionless.
He didn't broach the subject for the rest of the meal, and I tried to let it go as well –I didn't want to ruin our evening, but I felt it like a weight inside me, impossible to ignore or forget. And I could tell that he was displeased –there was a cool detachment to his demeanor that hadn't been there before and he didn't joke around the way he usually did.
I could only imagine what he was thinking of me right then. Did he see me as a prideful, stuck-up bitch? I realized I hadn't even thanked him, and it didn't sit well with me. It was well past the time to thank him now, after I'd picked a fight with him over what he probably saw as an innocuous nice gesture.
I trailed behind him and stared at my shoes on our way out of the restaurant, murmuring an embarrassed goodbye to the waitress, feeling completely inadequate as I belatedly realized that he'd paid for our meal while I'd gone to the ladies' room.
For the first time in forever, the silence on the ride back to his place felt awkward. It wasn't one of those companionable silences between people who knew each other so well that they could just enjoy being with each other without the need to speak a word. It felt intentional, and cold.
Once we were at his place, he announced that he was going to jump in the shower, and I knew that at least a little part of him was mad at me because he didn't teasingly ask me to join him, the way he usually did.
Once he disappeared in his bathroom, I sat on the very edge of his bed gingerly, not bothering to take off my jacket. Part of me wanted to leave while he was still showering, just to cut short this evening, hoping that the obvious tension between us would dissipate over time. But another part of me, the bigger one, that simply couldn't bear to leave a conflict unresolved, made me stay there, unnaturally still, as if I was awaiting a blow.
I breathed in deeply when he came out of the shower and laced my fingers together tightly in my lap, hoping to quell the shaking of my hands.
I hated confrontation, but I couldn't just pretend nothing had happened.
"Gabe, can we talk?"
He tilted his head to the side, his dark eyes unreadable, one eyebrow raised at me questioningly. "Talk about what?"
My eyes welled up, despite my best efforts to keep them from doing exactly that. "I don't want you to think I'm an ungrateful bitch. I'm not. You paying our rent for us, it does mean a lot to me. I am grateful. I really am. I just never want to depend on anyone like that. And I don't ever want you to think that any of my... any of our... friendship depends on what you can do for me, you know, financially."
I inhaled deeply. "God. I- I didn't even thank you. So... thank you. I'm sorry that I looked like I didn't appreciate the gesture." I hesitated before continuing in a soft whisper. "It's just that... I bet Alexei always felt that there was some sort of ill intention behind my interest in him. The way he was with his money, the way he spoke about it, like it was no big deal. And then the way he used it to crush me. Like I was nothing. Less than a person, even." I paused and cleared my throat, which had begun to close up once more. "Sometimes, the way you speak of your money... you sound a bit like him, and I know it's probably irrational but it can make me feel so... small." I wrapped my arms around myself protectively, unable to look at him. "Please don't be mad at me. I didn't mean to make you mad."
At some point, the tears spilled over and Gabe's whole demeanor changed. The tension melted away from his posture and he came closer to wipe my cheeks with infinite gentleness.
"Oh, Isis," I shivered at the softness in his voice, at the honey-sweet way he said my name, infusing it with so much affection. "I'm sorry. I didn't see it like that. That's never my intention –I would never... I could never hurt you on purpose. I'm not like him. I would never, ever do something like that to you. I'm sorry."
He sat on the bed next to me and pulled me into his arms. "I'm not Alexei." I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head and I melted against him, and pressed my tear-drenched cheek to the warm skin of his chest, my eyes shut tightly.
We sat there for what felt like hours, with Gabe's chin resting atop my head and my arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
And all the while, I could feel myself falling deeper.
I was heading straight down the path that would irrevocably lead me to ruin, and I'd reached a point of no return.
There truly was no pain sweeter than to taste love, unrequited.
~♠~
I was nearly done with my shift at Honey on a particularly uneventful Thursday evening, when I saw Nirvana walk in.
She seemed to hesitate when she saw me, and then she set her jaw resolutely and marched on towards me.
"Hi," I said softly. She looked a bit angry, and I resisted the urge to tuck my head between my shoulders like a sheepish schoolkid. After all, I'd done nothing to deserve any of her resentment, but there was rarely, if ever, a defiant bone in my body.
"Hi." She paused and took a deep breath. "Isis, I refuse to lose a friend over two idiots. I don't know what I can do to make their actions up to you, but just tell me, and I'll do it. I really do like you, and I don't want you to feel like I don't care about what happened to you –I mean, about what Alexei did to you. If it makes you feel better, he's miserable right now. I'm not exactly speaking to him at the moment, because seeing him basically gives me hives, but I can tell that he feels awful. So please accept these home-baked and slightly burnt cookies as my peace offering. Oh, and go out with me this weekend. Sorry about burning the cookies, by the way, but I have never baked anything in my life. Also, please teach me how to bake."
I couldn't help but laugh as she handed me the box of cookies. I hid it underneath the counter and made a mental note not to forget them there.
"You didn't have to make anything up to me, you didn't do anything," I said after I was done cracking up.
"Well, I did kind of try to 'Parent Trap' you. Sorry about that. It's just that Alexei is like a brother to me and I couldn't stand to see him screw up so royally. I guess that was my attempt at cleaning up the mess he'd made," she said sheepishly, having visibly relaxed now that she'd delivered her speech.
"I'm not mad at you if that's what you were thinking, I said, as I resumed wiping the countertop. "It's just that I knew you and Alexei were really close and I wasn't sure that you weren't on his side."
"I love the guy, but he is a man, and I am a lesbian after all. Clearly my genes knew that men are generally morons and decided to protect me from their idiocy by making me gay. Trust me, my side is sunnier."
I laughed again. "I bet some people would get offended by that."
She rolled her eyes and sighed as she hopped onto one of the vintage barstools that lined the counter, crossing her long legs and resting her elbows on the glossy marble. "Some people get offended by everything. I'm a lesbian. I have a lesbian-joke pass."
"So, what were you planning for this weekend?" I asked as I turned my back to her, ready to dismantle the espresso machine to give it a thorough scrub.
"I want us to go dancing. And I want us to be the most stunning, seductive and sensuous creatures wherever we decide to go. I want people to look at us, and want to be us, and when they realize they cannot be us, to want to be as close to us as possible, not realizing that getting this close to the sun can only get you burned."
"Well, isn't that poetic. I'm more than down with the idea, though." I jumped –I hadn't heard Gabe's approach. After all, the guy was as stealthy as a panther.
I turned to greet him but he'd already made his way around the counter and he intercepted me mid twirl. His arms were around me before I even knew what was happening, and he kissed me shamelessly. I knew I should probably pull away –my shift wasn't done just yet –but I could never resist him and so I gave in, kissing him back just as passionately.
It was only when he interrupted the kiss that I tried to slip away from his embrace, cheeks aflame. "Someone could walk in! This is so unprofessional..."
"You weren't saying that five seconds ago." He looked smug. "And I took care of it. We're alone." He pointed at the door and I looked over only to notice that he'd flipped the "Open" sign so that it would display "Closed".
Nirvana cleared her throat pointedly. "Well, you're not exactly alone, so don't get any ideas. You two are attractive, but I'm not fond of straight porn."
I could feel my cheeks reddening further. I smoothed my hands down my mandatory "Honey" logo tee uselessly to try and erase any crumples our impromptu make-out could've left and Gabe shook his head. "You're adorable." He hoisted himself onto the counter. "So, big plans this weekend, as I hear. Wish I could be there, but I'll be out of town." He turned to Nirvana. "Keep an eye on her for me, please. Or she might just start singing Whitney Houston songs at strangers, enticing them with her angelic voice."
I didn't think my face could get any hotter, but I was quickly finding out that my theory was false. I knew he was referencing that time he'd come to pick me up at the karaoke bar where I'd gotten wasted with Ro and Jenna, an incident I was low-key hoping he would've forgotten by now.
"Oh, don't worry. I'll keep an eye on her for you alright." She smiled her cat-like grin and Gabe thanked her with a bow.
But as it turned out, the only person I needed safe-guarding from was myself.
Saturday night came faster than cops in a white neighbourhood. Before I knew it, I was at Nirvana's apartment and she was browsing through her extensive collection of party dresses to try and find the perfect one for me, refusing to lend me the simple, mid-thigh number I'd tried to convince her would be perfect for the occasion.
She settled on a dress that was composed exclusively of silver sequins, indecently short. Her eyes nearly shone when she found it. When she paused once she'd reached the rack on which the dress was precariously suspended, I knew I was in trouble. My suspicions were confirmed once I changed into the dress and came out of her bathroom and she started clapping and jumping up and down excitedly.
"Oh my God! Yes! You have to wear this one! You look stunning. Absolutely sickening, honey." She danced around me while I pulled on the dress, futilely trying to lengthen it.
To my utmost despair, she forced me into a pair of black, high heeled sandals.
Then she managed to wrestle my hair into a high ponytail so tight that it nearly scalped me and meticulously began applying my make-up. Once she was all done with me, I had to admit that I didn't look half-bad. The shortness of the dress and the added height of the heels made my legs look long and sleek, and my face was less childlike with the smoky-eye she'd given me.
She proceeded to change into a sexy, black mini-dress with an indecently high split up one thigh, and tied her long, shiny black hair into a ponytail that matched mine –only hers was pin straight and black, while mine was an unruly cascade of red curls.
She then took a selfie of us, which she captioned "Sisters from different misters", and posted to her Instagram, not knowing that it was be the first mistake we would make that night.
We embarked into the Uber in a swirl of giggles and expensive perfume, not knowing that we'd just set the stage for an evening that would change all of our lives –forever.
A/N
DID YOU GET THAT J. COLE REFERENCE?? IF YOU DID, THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU. GOODNIGHT.