37. Chapter 37
Chapter thirty-seven
Sam
“ H i, Sam,” Maria says with a warm smile, and a tremble in her voice.
She’s nervous.
“Hey, Maria. Nice to see you.” My eyes zero in on their intertwined hands.
Geoffrey grips her hand tighter.
My stomach twists.
Maria turns to Cara and extends her hand, her palm open and welcoming. “You must be Cara. I’m Maria. Nice to meet you finally.”
Cara kindly takes her hand while also shooting me a look that I can’t read. It’s a cross between pity, humor, and possibly shock that Maria knows who she is. I can’t place it. “You as well.” Cara looks at Geoffrey and offers him a handshake. “And you are…?”
With a strong grip, Geoffrey clasps her hand and shakes it warmly. “Geoffrey Reynolds. Nice to meet you.” His hand returns to Maria’s, not offering me a handshake in greeting.
Fine by me, dude.
Cara blushes as soon as their hands touch. He probably has this effect on every woman he comes in contact with.
Because, of course, he does .
Cara takes the lead in the conversation, which I am grateful for. As a friend should. And it occurs to me that this is what we are, and perhaps we have been for quite some time. Friends.
Instead, we have been pretending to be something we aren’t
Cara’s face lights up, and she excitedly points her finger toward Geoffrey. “Has anyone ever told you that you look like…”
“Channing Tatum,” Maria answers for him. With love, she looks at him, her eyes beaming with adoration as she rests her hand on his chest. “Yeah, he gets that a lot. But I think he’s more handsome than Magic Mike, if you ask me.”
Geoffrey lifts his chin in response to her compliment, and he pulls her close, his arm now securely around her waist.
I grab my scotch, the ice cubes clinking against the sides of the glass, and down it in one gulp. Cara’s eyebrow arches as she watches me.
Maria’s attention shifts to Cara again. “Did you enjoy your dinner? We only stopped in for a quick glass of wine and an appetizer. I’ve always wanted to eat dinner here, though.”
Maria’s smile is stretching from ear to ear. Her fake smile. I’ve seen her flash it before when she is trying to be nice, but deep down, she wants to cry.
“It was delicious. You should try the Cajun Chicken Pasta if you come back,” Cara answers. Maria nods, and an awkward silence hangs in the air.
This small talk is sucking the life right out of me. I shift in my seat to relieve the tension pumping into me.
Cara gives me a side glance and clears her throat before trying to resume the conversation. “Maria, I love your dress. Where—”
“I haven’t seen you at work in a while,” I quickly interrupt while studying the square cubes left inside my rock glass, turning it in my hand. “Did you quit?” I force myself to look away from my empty drink and glance in her direction. She sucks in a breath as my question hangs in the air.
“Wait, you two used to work together?” Geoffrey questions, pointing his finger back and forth between the two of us.
Interesting. She never told him that part. A small satisfied smile crosses my lips as I wait for Maria to answer both him and me. As she narrows her eyes, I can almost feel the intensity radiating from her. “No, we would just see each other in the parking lot. Sam is a psychologist at the hospital next door.”
“Psychologist, huh?” Geoffrey’s eyes focus on me at the mention of my line of work. “I’ve been looking for a new therapist. Do you—”
“I’m no longer accepting new patients,” I lie through gritted teeth because I would rather quit my job and be homeless than take him on as a patient. Or have him see any therapist in the department.
“Ooookay.”
Maria’s lips form a thin line, revealing her frustration. “To answer your question, Sam, I didn’t quit. I transferred offices. Things were becoming complicated and a little hard to deal with, so I thought it was better to move on.”
She’s moved on, alright.
She continues. “Apparently, even after dozens of apologies, there are some things that are unforgivable, so I decided not to wait around.”
Ouch. I guess I deserved that one.
Cara interlaces her fingers together, resting them on the table, and comes to my rescue with a subject change. “So, what is it that you do for a living, Geoffrey?” Her lips curl up in a flirtatious smile.
Boy, Cara is really interested in all things Geoffrey, isn’t she?
Before replying, Geoffrey studies Maria intently, his brows furrowed, looking confused, at her answer to my question. He shakes his head in frustration, then looks directly at Cara. “I’m in family law and a partner at Reynolds, Ghizzoni, and Weston.”
“A lawyer. Wow! Impressive.”
A lawyer. I mean, why not at this point? What other line of work would the perfect man be in? A lawyer or doctor are your only two options. Or a professional athlete. And by the looks of his body, he could pull that off as well.
“It’s not that impressive,” Geoffrey continues. “It’s a lot of work. And dealing with people’s family problems can really drain you.”
Maria’s hand shoots back up to his chest again. I guess she can’t keep her hands off of him. She can probably feel his bulging pecs through his suit. “Don’t be modest, honey. He’s the best family attorney in the state, if you ask me. ”
Well, we didn’t, Maria. My inner eye roll is huge.
I can tell muscle man Geoff is over this conversation because he uncoils his arm from Maria’s waist and grabs her hand. “Well, it was nice to meet you both. Maria and I need to get going.” He looks lovingly down at her and winks as a playful smile crosses his lips. “My place, right?”
Shoot me now. He knows what he’s doing. I hate him. My hand tightens around the glass.
“Of course.” Maria turns to us both. “Sam, it was good to see you again. Cara, it was a pleasure meeting you. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
They are already turning to leave, not wanting to get away from us fast enough, when Cara says, “Likewise.” We both watch them exit the restaurant.
“Well, that was awkward,” I say, rubbing my hand down my jaw, hoping to release some of the tension radiating throughout my whole body.
Cara and I sit in silence as we wait for the check—which is taking forever—the awkwardness from the last five minutes hanging in the air. Waiters and waitresses pass us by, oblivious to the dining disaster that just happened.
While we wait, I glance at the beautiful woman who has been nothing but wonderful to me. I met her the day she moved into her apartment. She has floated in and out of my life for close to twenty-five years. And with that thought, I can’t help but wonder if I will regret this decision. “One last drink together?” I ask.
She glances at her phone, then sheepishly answers. “Okay.” I flag down the waiter, and within minutes, another scotch and a glass of wine appear at our table.
For at least a half an hour, we drink and chat like friends do. A friend who you shared adventures with, confided in, and loved. In this moment, I realize I will miss Cara. She’s truly a remarkable woman. Only, not the woman for me. I hope she finds happiness and love.
After we wait for our check for a second time, a notification sounds from Cara’s phone. She glances at it, stands, and retrieves her purse and shawl from the back of the chair before pushing it into the table. With a swift motion, she drapes her shawl over her arm. “Wait, the check hasn’t come yet,” I say, my confusion evident in every word because she knows we haven’t paid yet.
With a gentle smile, she walks over to me and leans down, brushing a sweet, affectionate kiss against my cheek. Her lips are warm but not as familiar as they were before. She wipes away the lipstick mark she left. “Take care of yourself, Sam.”
“Cara, hold on. How are you getting home?” I stand and pull a Geoffrey, throwing cash on the table.
“I called an Uber while you stared at Maria’s legs. It’s here, and I’m leaving,” she informs me as she stands a little straighter.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I can take you home and we can talk—”
“It’s better this way. There’s nothing left to say.”
I nod in agreement, my eyes meeting hers, silently conveying my respect for her decision. This is her way of letting go, not prolonging the painful breakup goodbye on her front porch.
Not wanting to prolong this goodbye any longer than necessary, I pull her in for a heartfelt hug. She hums as soon as her chin rests on my shoulder. “I wish you the best, Cara. You deserve everything,” I whisper into her ear. As we pull apart, she calmly places her hand on my cheek, her palm soft against my skin. Her touch lingers for a moment before she lowers her hand, then takes a step around me and walks away.
I watch her leave out the exit door and observe her from the window. She gets into the Kia Optima that was waiting for her and drives away. Gone from my life, for the last time.
As I take a step to leave this godforsaken place, my attention immediately shifts to a flash of a bare back, long legs, a blue dress, and golden blonde hair outside. Maria’s waiting on the steps of the entrance, tapping her foot impatiently.
Holy crap! What is she still doing here? And where is Geoffrey ?
I bolt out of the restaurant as if it’s engulfed in flames. Within five seconds flat, I’m right beside her, my hands in my pocket. She turns to see who is standing next to her and flinches before quickly refocusing on the road ahead .
“I just saw Cara leave. Alone. Trouble in paradise?” she asks.
I hold my breath, knowing I have to accept whatever she is prepared to serve up.
“Well, truthfully, we broke up tonight. Right before you and Geoffrey came over to the table.”
Her head snaps to meet mine as I catch her eye. I raise my eyebrows and shrug. A few more seconds pass, and I turn away, roaming the busy street, looking for her perfect lawyer boyfriend. “So, why are you out here alone? Where’s Geoff the lawyer?” I ask.
She clears her throat, trying to shake off the nervousness. “Um … Geoffrey’s car won’t start. So he’s with the tow truck guy while I wait for an Uber.”
“I can take you wherever you need to go.” I offer this up faster than I intended. But man, I hope she says yes.
She turns away from me. “Yeah, okay. That wouldn’t be the best idea,” she laughs out.
She’s probably right.
We both stand there, taking in the chaos of car horns and bustling footsteps in the busy street. A burning need to know more about Channing ‘Geoffrey’ Tatum consumes me. So I ask. “Are you guys serious?”
I try to will her to look at me, but she doesn’t glance in my direction, busy searching for her ride among the traffic. “Not that it’s any of your business, but we have been seeing each other for about a year now. We have plans for him to meet the kids next week.”
Not good. That means it’s very serious. Maria wouldn’t introduce just anyone to her kids.
I try to keep my cool, even though my heart is drowning in disappointment. “Wow. That does sound serious.”
“What happened with you and Cara?” I swear I heard a touch of happiness in her voice.
“You. You happened.” The confession hangs in the air, as she slowly turns her head and her eyes meet mine, brimmed with unease. A massive shot of adrenaline shoots through me, a reminder of the intense connection we share. Her lip's part to say something, and my eyes zero in on their perfect shape and pinkish color. With each passing moment, her breath becomes more rapid. Then she blinks, checks herself, and averts her attention while shifting her feet.
I can’t tear my eyes away from the mesmerizing curve of her spine in that stunning dress. With an impulsive urge too strong to control, I pull my hand from my pocket. With a featherlight touch, I lightly skim down the surface of her spine, ending on her lower back. Goosebumps erupt on her skin. It’s the same spot where I had seen Geoffrey’s hand earlier as he guided them past our table. I want nothing more than to remove the memory of his touch from her head and replace it with my own.
Her breath hitches when my fingers graze her smooth skin. “You can’t say those types of things to me, Sam.”
My thumb rubs in small circles … the way I always used to. Her eyes flutter close.
Tires rolling on pavement breaks up our intimate moment, diverting our attention to a Chevy Blazer pulling alongside the curb.
“That’s my ride.” She takes off down the steps, faster than she should be able to in those heels. I can’t stop staring at the enticing contours of her back and the toned definition of her legs as she walks away. Shaking off my daze, I sprint to catch up as a surge of adrenaline courses through me. My hand reaches around her, grabbing the door handle just seconds before she does.
She looks up at me, and tears brim her eyes as we part ways yet again. Like we always do, “I’m sorry about Cara.” With a quick turn and a duck of her head, she tries to get into the car, but I reach out and take her arm.
This moment isn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.
“Sam, don’t,” she pleads with me, her voice trembling. She sniffles as she turns to face me.
I’m not letting this chance pass by. I need her to have a clear understanding of where I stand. “It turns out some things are forgivable,” I whisper. Her face softens at my confession and the reminder of our conversation in my car .
“You said you didn’t want this.” The words escape her lips so softly, I barely heard them as her eyes search mine and a single tear trails down her cheek. I swipe it away.
Ignoring her statement, I continue. “I know you are with Channing,”—she huffs out a chuckle with a hint of amusement at the use of this name— “but I want you to know something, and I’m not expecting anything from you. I just need you to know.”
She nods. “Okay.”
Leaning in, her hair tickles my nose. A gentle sigh escapes my lips as I mutter the words. “I’m all in.” She sucks in a breath of air as I continue. “With you. It’s only ever been you.”
As I pull away, the electric tension between us is almost too much, and I can’t breathe. Our faces are now inches apart. I watch her as she processes my revelation. More tears brim her eyes as she shuts them, trying to stop her emotions. Her breathing increases.
Something in this moment feels different. Standing here, outside a black Chevy, in the middle of the noisy city, our worlds have collided yet again. Staring at her, I can feel a seismic shift in my life, and the handful of times we have seen each other since the break-up, the significance of each floods my mind.
Our first meeting at Dexter’s felt surreal.
The time in the shed before her wedding. Catastrophic.
That day we met in the park. Sad.
All our lunches together. Nostalgic.
When I let her go that day in my car. Loss.
But now, right now, the earth is moving me toward her. Pulling me back into her orbit. Right now … feels … permanent.
And I never want to leave this moment.
Yet, I know she needs to go. So, reluctantly, I release her arm. The second she’s out of my grasp, I miss the feel of her skin. As I lean past her, the intensity of her stare pierces into me. I pop my head into the car, speaking directly to the driver. “Make sure she gets home safe.”
He gives me a sharp salute. “Will do. ”
Without a word, Maria enters the car with a graceful slide. I close the door and step back. Our eyes meet through the glass, conveying a multitude of emotions. The driver pulls from the curb and makes a left. I watch the taillights disappear into the sea of cars.
Taking the love of my life … to Geoffrey.