Enrique and I were rudely awaken—and sent scrambling to my room by Amber bumbling through the door. She jokingly called it our run of shame. I asked her to never mention it again. Once clothed, as in wearing a couple of mismatched robes, I awkwardly introduced my college friend to the guy I had just had sex all night long with. I wasn’t surprised that Enrique didn’t seem upset by the whole thing. I was surprised how quickly my discomfort disappeared. In an alternate universe where Amber was straight, I realized these two would be made for each other. But in this universe, Enrique held my hand all breakfast long charming my crazy friend.
When he finally left Amber didn’t say a word, her smile said everything she needed to. Shortly after a second cup of coffee I started to laugh then to cry. My strange friend was confused then just wrapped her arms around me.
“What’s wrong?”
My head says I need to move away. I told my boss I’m going to the west coast. I just told the guy I’ve been carrying a torch for…forever that I’ll move to Paris with him. All my friends are moving away. I just spent last night making love to a guy who I think I’ve been in love since the moment I saw him, but think I can’t follow. Also, my good college friend who is a lesbian is poking me with her nipples.
“Everything!”
My dead phone sat next to me as I unpacked all my feelings and thoughts on possibly the least judgmental person I had probably known. But Amber is my touchy feel friend, my logical friend was touching down on the west coast now. I accepted breakfast as I further unpacked my mixed feelings and guilt about my ex-boyfriend. In hindsight maybe I shouldn’t have told her about the spanking and fetish stuff.
“$#!+ happens.”
It was an existential shrug.
“Sometimes you’re the bug, some times you’re the windshield. You didn’t know. You acted in good faith. You’ve learned a valuable lesson. You HAVE learn a valuable lesson?” The last question was comedic. I wanted to respond with something naughty, but bit my tongue. I’d like to have blamed Amber’s feel wheeling nature, but that wasn’t true. I had changed, because of Todd. There I said his name. I had learned a lot about myself and his deceit couldn’t take that away. Next time I’d be more careful with who I gave my trust to. Next time?
We each showered and got dressed and went out for the day. We spent the weekend just walking around and looking at the city I would soon be leaving. I noticed little things, that I’d never seen before, or worse that I’d probably forgotten once I was familiar with it. We spent the whole weekend unplugged. It was these odd little moments that I really appreciated my ‘wild’ friend. She didn’t offer advice, she just lived in tune with her feelings. And feelings didn’t need words, they created motion.
So by Monday morning I realized my phone had been unused since the epic party I had skipped out of. I couldn’t charge it until I got in the office, where I was accosted by my enthusiastic ginger friend. She hugged me expressing her relief I was OK then railroading me through the empty office to my sofa.
“Well?”
I sure wasn’t going to give her the blow-by-blow, but I gave her the PG Coles notes.
“So what does it mean?”
That was the 24 thousand dollar question. Go to some far off town, bide my time and become a millionaire or follow the handsome playboy until he found something else to distract himself. Whoah? Where did that thought come from.
“Take the job in Vancouver and jet over to Paris on the weekend!” It seems Jemma had come up with the perfect solution—if I was already independently wealthy.
And while we giggled at the thought of living our bosses’ lives, Jemma tried to slip in the little fact she was going to go home—to London. This quiet fact did not slip my attention. This whole time I was worried about me moving, my hot diversion moving, my friends moving… I had forgotten about the friend in front of me. With no job offer it never occurred to me that Jemma would move even farther away, not that it was really a practical matter. It was a spiritual one, the thought of her being another ocean away.
My abrupt change of tone did not slip her attention. She tried to peddle that it would be good for her and she hadn’t been home in a while, and I wasn’t buying a single line of it. And before I could probe deeper into this she pivoted me back, to me.
She convinced me, no channeled me to go and sign for my new job. She was really convincing and making me forget about her flying back to jolly olde England and what I had said to Enrique. Surrounded by my biggest cheerleaders I signed documents that would—hopefully—cement my financial future at the expense of everything else. This time I did drink champagne, probably to drown those nagging question marks in the back of my head.
After accepting my new post next to the “here be dragons” on the map, I went back to clean out my desk and office. Five minutes later I decided to put what little I owned in the apartment up on Craigslist. What didn’t sell in the next week I’d just donate. I met Amber for lunch and she told me she’d be off to somewhere in Asia next. Honestly I don’t remember much attention, I just didn’t want to be alone.
Then a day and a half and a bedroom suite later I saw my other college friend off to the airport. I hadn’t been avoiding Enrique, but I also wasn’t unhappy to not see him. Part of me maybe hoped to slink away, part of me wished he’d abduct me and carry me off with him. And then as I thought about him he called.
It was good to hear his voice. He said he was sorry he hadn’t called earlier but had been busy tidying up his affairs in New York. It was nice hearing his voice even if my heart was strained. I thought it was best if I didn’t see him before we left, it would be easier for me. Half a week ago I told him I’d go to Paris with him, now it seemed I was the only one to remember. That was until he told me his flight number and made a date at the airport…the same day I was supposed to be flying in the other direction. Oh $#!+
I met with Jemma one last time. We confirmed all our contact info—that we already had. She added her family’s place in the East End where she’d be staying until… I wanted to tell her that I didn’t want her to go. That I didn’t want Enrique to go. Heck, I wish I had known how this was all going to turn out and I had better spent my time, with the people I loved. Instead I made it sound like I was totally looking forward to skiing in the morning and surfing in the afternoon. No need to tell her I was still contemplating changing my ticket from Air Canada to Air France.
I took one last look at the now totally empty apartment where my actual growing up had taken place. It was weird how I was already missing it, but had never really appreciated it when I was there. I closed the door on that part of my life and returned the keys. I had forgotten about the damage deposit, it was a strange windfall as I made my way out of the building, out of the city.
I’d love to have said that I packed everything I owned into the carry-on suitcase, but that would have been lying. Only the things I worse obsessively from my 333 wardrobe were going in the cabin. All my ill-gotten fashions and remaining items I had packed in a steamer chest and sent off to an address that I had never seen before.
I was nervous as the cab took my to the airport. Why couldn’t I just make up my mind! My head not to mention my possessions said Vancouver, but my heart and naughty bits said otherwise. How could I see him and say, “sorry, you’re all really hot and all, but my stuff is already on it’s way to the west coast”. I mean sure I could say it just like that. Orrrrr…I could just not say anything and just get on my plane to YVR and wonder what might have been.
I was running out of time as my app confirmed payment to my driver. Enrique at least deserved to be told by me what I had chosen. I decided to meet him and tell him the bad news.
Oh my God, he looked like an ad in Vogue just logging in a chair. He hadn’t seen me and I quickly checked myself out in a mirror before he could. A week ago we were having sex in my apartment. Now I was about to sever my ties with him. At least I’d look good doing it.
He jumped out of his seat and rushed over to me greeting me like a long separated lover. I knew at that moment I was going to be changing a ticket—and filling a job vacancy. His strong arms around me, his warm body crushing mine, his soft lips surrounded by fashionable stubble and his hand unapologetically all over my @$$. I was going to Paris.
Did I mention the long separated lover part? Because I think we started to make a ‘scene’, not that I was much aware of anything but my Spanish lover’s mouth and hands. We abandoned our carry-on as he dragged my towards something dark and dangerous. He was about the seal the deal in an airport restroom like the week since we’d last met hadn’t happened. I wasn’t exactly doing anything to stop him. I didn’t think about the rash discussion I was making—the career ending move, or the staring of onlookers as two people emerged from a handicapped washroom. Nope, I was firmly in Enrique bubble.
I complied as he pulled my dress over my bra. I rested my heeled foot on the grab bar as he knelt in front of me. Even as he made me bite my lip and grip onto something for support, there was a little voice inside my head. “You haven’t reconciled the two Enrique’s.” That voice was silenced or drown out by what the French would call la petit mort.
I’m so far past defending my bad life choices, and having sex with your walking, breathing fantasy in a public washroom was very definitely a bad life choice, but hot damn it was one of my better feeling bad life choices. Though I’m sure he covered my mouth to not alert security what we were doing, it also did nothing to stop my aching for him. And even as I wrapped my legs around him and he pressed me against the wall, that damned voice. “How long will the hot sex last once he’s in Paris.”
But the voice lost out to his savage thrusts. My fantasies of him were much more soft and romantic as I bit his neck and racked his loosely covered back. “You know if you were caught right now you wouldn’t have to worry about Vancouver or Paris.” The thought of the door not being locked only hastened my second orgasm which preceded and continued past his. And with my feet not so firmly on the ground I whispered “I love you”.
I didn’t realize until I was on the plane that his only response was a smile and a wink. At the time I was far too flooded with endorphins and grabbing for toilet paper to register. We made out half-naked in our room until a message announced our plane was about to board. That was when I realized my problem.
I told my lover I hadn’t changed my ticket yet. The business savvy Enrique that I really came to know and love immediately went into action. Down went my dress, up went his pants and in less time than an F1 pit stop we were almost presentable and crashing through the door. Ironically, I never saw the reaction or even cared what others thought as we burst out and ran to our luggage.
Enrique told me he would have them wait for me as I changed my ticket. He gave me a huge kiss, told me he’d wait for me and then ran off in the opposite direction.
I turned around and literally ran into Jemma. Seeing Enrique rush off and me in slightly less than perfect condition, I got a double eyebrow lift. My heart was beating so fast. I had to get to a counter to change my ticket, but I also wanted to say goodbye to my friend.
“So you’re going to give up everything for him?”
Was it that obvious? Was it true. Jemma was on her way to the outskirts of London to stay in her father’s council flat while looking for a job…any job. $90K a year plus benefit and a seven-figure vestment in 18 months, traded to be the mistress of a handsome and very interesting man—with a well-defined history. I am such an idiot!
I didn’t see the things with Todd because I didn’t want to. In hindsight all the signs were there. I wasn’t comparing the two men, but how much did I really know about Enrique? How much did I really know about myself.
“You found a job yet?” I asked my smart friend as we walked to the booking desk.
“Nooo…” It was actually a one eyebrow question. She knew me too well.
“Would you like one?” I asked as we got to the agent.
“Where?”
“I need to change a ticket…” I said to the pleasant woman behind the counter.
A woman’s voice with a soft French accent announced final boarding of Enrique’s flight to Paris over the PA.
I looked over at my wise friend and said, “Have you ever been to Vancouver? You can ski in the morning and surf in the afternoon.” I told her as I took her ticket and handed it to the agent with mine.
“She needs to change her ticket from London to Vancouver, that’s the flight number.”
“Does it pay well?”
“Yup!”
“What exactly would I be doing?”
“I’ll pay the difference on my card”, I told the agent before turning to Jemma. “Making sure I don’t make stupid mistakes, no matter how pleasant they may be.”
“Are you sure?”
“Nope, but I’m out of time.” I pulled out my phone as the agent changed Jemma’s flight to mine and texted Enrique, “désolé”. If my life were a video game I would have just achieved the “Heartless Bitch” trophy. There was no ellipsis after my message, there was no come back. And yet with Jemma by my side I didn’t feel so $#!++¥.
Matching tickets in hand we wandered to the shops and restaurants to kill time until our flight boarded.
“Wait, you had sex in a public washroom and then dumped him as he boarded a plane?”
I nodded.
“You ARE a cold-hearted bitch! I want to be you!”