Desperate to Touch

The past needs to stay where it is. Those ghosts are long gone. Carter’s assessment follows me, hardens me… it warns me to be careful.

As Laura passes the threshold, I notice her long hair, once naturally dark but now lightened, falling over one shoulder. She peeks over her shoulder but not at me though; instead she looks back to her car. Maybe second-guessing everything, maybe wanting to run. I wonder if she can feel the difference inside of me. I feel it every damn day. I’m highly aware that I’m not the same man she remembers from the past. How could I be? That night changed everything about me.

When she chose to run, so did something inside of me. And it never came back.

The clack of the front door closing is followed by the lock clicking into place. Laura’s body shudders at the sound, and I watch closely as her plump lips, colored the same dark red as her dress, part as she sucks in a breath. She may not want to admit I’ve gotten to her, but I damn well know I have.

She can pretend to be the confident seductress when she looks in the mirror. But I see underneath it all.

The mix of dark woods and grays, all the masculine clean lines of my home is at complete odds with Laura. She stands out, unable to hide in the neutrals of the open floor plan. She aims to move to the sleek ashen davenport sofa in the living room. Even picking up her pace, turning the air between us businesslike, she takes a few steps forward, only for me to catch her elbow and move her forward, toward the office.

Her quick glance and questioning gaze are gone as quickly as they came. I couldn’t give two shits where we do this, but she won’t decide it.

She decided to run from me. To steal from me. She doesn’t get to decide anything else.

Never fucking again. She doesn’t have a choice.

I’ve had countless days to plan what I’d say and do. Years ago, back in California. And years here, knowing she was close enough to see with only minutes of driving. Even as I walk her through the hall and open the carved walnut office door, ushering her inside, the plan is changing.

Some days it’s a debt owed and I want her to pay me back, however I choose.

Some moments the hate for her leaving me at my worst is so strong, that I don’t want a damn thing to do with her. I want her to know how close I am, and to know I don’t care enough to seek her out.

Smelling her sweet scent, and listening to the steady beat of her heels clicking against the wood, part of me wants to charm her, to beg for her forgiveness and offer her the world. I could give her that. Everything is different now. That part comes with something else. It starts as an inkling of sorrow, but it’s quick to spread, like oil slicking across the water. It’s thin, but covers every inch in blackness. I want to beg her to love me again. I want her to see how wrecked I was. How I feel like nothing without her. I am nothing anymore, but why would she want me? Why the hell would she ever come back?

She makes me weak.

“Your home is lovely,” Laura comments politely with her slender back to me as I shut the office door. Both of her hands grip the strap of her purse, giving away the nerves she’s hiding. “The inside isn’t like the outside… it’s so modern and open.”

I’m different; I know I am, but so is she. We’re nothing like we used to be. I assess her as she appraises my office. Taking in the rows of books, organized by date of publication. I collect the rare ones because I like the way they smell and look, but I haven’t read them. I don’t intend to either.

Her footsteps are gentler in this room and the angular edges of her dress seem to soften as I watch her move from one end of my small office to the other. Her footsteps are muted although it’s hardwood beneath her heels. She’s walking more carefully, with more hesitation.

I love that. The façade fades as the seconds pass.

She’s still the same girl I know, even if she wants to appear otherwise.

Her hair is curled, meticulously so when she still sat in her car. But the wind has seen to ruffle her blond tresses. I like her even more with her hair slightly messy. She should aim for that next time, a “just recently fucked” look.

I want to ask her why she did it, why she dyed her hair. It’s gorgeous on her; she has the tan in her skin to pull it off. I love the memory of her from before more though. She was perfect before.