And suddenly, I really did break down. Right there, in the middle of traffic, my little Jetta going about twenty-five on a local street, the tears started rolling and a tearing, wrenching sob erupted from my chest. Because I’d left my heart behind with the big man … and there was no getting it back.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Lindy
“Hey,” I said disinterestedly to my roommate Kara. “What’s up? You’re back early.”
It was summer break still and I hadn’t expected Kara to be at the apartment, I thought she was still going to be on vacation with her family, summering in Cape Code or Nantucket, wherever it is rich people go. Frankly, I found it hard to care. The last ten days had wiped my mind of everything but Christopher Jones and it was going to be hard to pick up the pieces, to get back in the groove. But I had to, I had to reconnect with my old life no matter how difficult it was, no matter how painful.
So I forced myself to smile at Kara again.
“How was your break?” I asked again.
But Kara ignored me, her head still buried in a book.
I sighed. We’d never gotten along but still, Kara’s silence was so rude. I’d asked her a direct question and she was ignoring me, pretending me like she didn’t hear.
But I had other things on my mind, so I ignored my roommate and started unpacking, my hands slow as I pulled open my rickety bureau and placed my clothes in, my faded jeans and plaid t-shirts plain and frumpy. Next up was my underwear and I reached into my luggage, only for my hand to come out with a black g-string. One of the special black g-strings, the ones I’d worn for Chris’s eyes alone, parading around the mansion in nothing but this and skin.
Suddenly my eyes filled with tears again and I dropped the lingerie like a hot potato. I couldn’t stand the sight of the lace, the skimpy fabric. So hurriedly, I rezipped my bag and threw it under my bed, taking a deep breath. I’d do my toiletries instead, yeah that was pretty safe, what could go wrong?
But as soon as I unzipped my cosmetics bag, it popped open to reveal the designer lipsticks and eyeshadows he’d bought for me, a tube of the good stuff costing fifty bucks from the department store. Chris had been generous, pushing me to buy it even when I’d protested.
“Drugstore stuff is fine,” I said, shaking my head when we were in Saks. “The make-ups all the same, anyways, they make it at the same factory.”
But the big man shook his head.
“Even if it’s the same, I want you to feel special when you’re putting it on,” he growled under his breath so that no one could hear. “I want you to get dressed up, get made up, knowing that it’s all for me.”
And I’d reddened then, my breath coming quickly.
“And if I refuse?” I challenged, my brown eyes sparkling.
“Well I’m gonna pick it out for you then,” he said with a smirk. “So better you pick the colors, otherwise you’re going to end up with, let’s see … this green eyeshadow looks good, don’t you think?”
And I’d giggled then, giving in. Because the green eyeshadow he held up was so ugly it was laughable. If I wanted to be a witch for Halloween then that was one thing, but no one couldn’t possibly use it in real life.
So I picked out a couple items, a blush, a lip liner, an eyeshadow that were pretty, neutral, colors I could wear day and night. But Chris shook his head.
“Nuh uh, honey, we just bought you a couple cocktail dresses in red, purple and blue. You need more than that to match your new outfits, so keep going,” he commanded.
And sighing, I picked out a couple more things as Chris looked on, adding to the pile, offering commentary along the way.
“Honey, this would be perfect on you,” he said, holding up a vampy red lipstick.
I laughed, exasperated.
“Chris, have you seen my lips? They’re so big already, this lipstick is going to make them look bigger, I’m gonna be Angelina Jolie on drugs.”
He just grinned.
“My point exactly,” he rasped, throwing the red lipstick into the “buy” pile. “My point exactly.”
And now I was left with reminders of him everywhere, his generosity, his sense of humor, his preferences in clothes, make-up, lingerie, apparent even now that I was a hundred miles away. Oh god, what was I going to do? My heart crumpled again, my attempt to unpack and take my mind off things had backfired, making me depressed and sad once more.
Suddenly, Kara’s voice interrupted me from outside.
“Lindy, phone!” she yelled.
God, why did she have to scream? Our apartment was so small, we could practically hear each other breathe even when were in different rooms, a nice, mild “Phone, Lindy” would have been enough. But I guess it was good that Kara had even called me, sometimes she ignored the land line, letting it ring until it stopped on its own.