Chapter 15
15
I t’s my turn to go after him. Part of me wants to rampage, to tornado all over the room. How could he leave right now? Part of me wants to comfort him. It’s okay, I don’t bite.
I haul myself up and off the sofa, and bolt for the door. It’s only been a minute. He could still be out there. There is no need to unlatch the lock, so I just swing the door open into the apartment, and sure enough, there he is. Pacing the hall like he’s just gotten fired.
Lily wheezes at my feet.
“Are you going to come back in?” I call to Jae, like he called out to me. “I won’t ask twice.”
He paces over my way, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re allowed to be nervous, too,” I tell him, crossing my arms in the doorway in an attempt to seem in control when in reality all I wanted to do was hold his giant frame in my arms. “But don’t rush out the door next time.”
Thank goodness, he had the sense to stick around.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a relationship, ” Jae announces, like he’s broadcasting a documentary or doing a 60 Minutes segment.
“Then we’re in the same boat together. It’s obviously been a long time for me too.” I uncross my arms, and cross them again over my chest, feeling especially vulnerable talking about my lack of relationship history. “If it helps, we don’t have to label it.”
Jae takes a pause the size of Alpha Centauri. I am begging him to say anything, something next. But he doesn’t.
Finally he says, “I want to label it, though.”
“What do you want to label it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know the word for it . I just know I don’t want you in someone else’s apartment or in someone else’s arms.”
He pulls me into the hallway, into his arms. I am squashed flush against his chest. My cheek pressed to a chiseled pectoral muscle. I could live here, and I’d be happy.
“I think I can manage that.” His shirt muffles my response. “And you won’t go anywhere else, either?”
“I can manage that.”
“I think that’s called being exclusive, Jae.”
“Then we’ll be exclusive,” He laughs into my hair. “Smart ass.”
“It’s not being a smart ass if I’m right, and you just couldn’t think of the word.”
“Being a smart ass is about inflection, Riley. Not intention.”
I huff a big sigh as if I were Lily. “Would you like to come inside again?”
He picks me up by my waist and carries me two steps over the threshold of my apartment before setting me down. I take his hand and walk him over to my sofa where we sit, my legs draped over his, and I’m in the crook of his arm and lap.
“Riley,” Jae says my name the way one would say I love you, darling . Every time he says it, I emerge a little further from the cracks he’s breaking in my shell.
“Hmm?” My lips mere inches from his, silently begging him to shut up and kiss me.
“How long is your lease here?”
What? Why would he ask that? Now of all times?
“It’s month to month,” I answer, snapping out of my sultry daydreams. “They wouldn’t give me a year-long lease. Why do you ask?”
Jae cranes his neck to look around my living space. “I think we should try to find you a better apartment somewhere. This place is cramped and falling apart. A place where you can have a real painting studio.”
He looks in the direction of the corner of my living room that now houses all of my painting supplies. Basically the entire southern corner is now a makeshift studio, with two easels, a stack of canvases and varying sizes of cans, jars and containers of paint.
And he’s not wrong.
I survey the space. This apartment is cramped and falling apart. While Grant had helped design the apartments in this building, some of them had their budgets slashed and therefore corners were cut. This is one of them.
My vinyl countertops peeled, and the laminate floors dented easily. The walls had strange little bubbles from being painted over any number of times—the landlord special—as Grant had called it. The sofa and my painting studio take up the majority of the living room with the coffee table bumping my media console with the television.
“If you think this is cramped, you should see my bedroom,” I laugh. My bed is against the wall. “Junior, one-bed that could fit a king? My ass.”
“Still. I think we should try to find you a better place. Your budget isn’t that bad. Why’d you even want to stay in this building after everything that happened?”
I look at Jae thoughtfully, my brow knit, and I reach to rub my temple. That’s a difficult question, and I’m not sure I know the answer myself.
“It was a comfort, I think. To know Grant was in the walls somewhere.” I pause for a moment. “Why’re you always trying to fix my life? First a date, now an apartment?” I’m only a little peeved. It’s nice that he cares so much.
“You’re just so helpless.” Jae looks at me, studying the wrinkles that have formed in my forehead. “Helpless in the best way. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
“I’m helpless in the worst way,” I decide. “Do you want some tea?”
“I’m always up for tea.”
I leap off the sofa and bound the four steps it takes to get to the conjoined kitchen to turn the kettle on. I am a self-proclaimed tea snob and while I love boiling water over the gas burner, sometimes the convenience of an electric kettle beats out the old-school style.
“Let me ask you a question now,” I demand playfully.
“Anything.”
“Why’d you name your restaurant The Red Kettle?” I pour steaming hot water into cups with Lily’s face on them.
“Growing up, one of the only things my mother brought back from Korea was a small red kettle. It always sat on the actual highest shelf in our kitchen, and she’d never let us touch it.” Jae holds out a hand to indicate how high the shelf was. “One day, my youngest sister climbed up there and shattered it trying to take it down. My mother was devastated.”
Jae gets up off the sofa now, too, and stands across the kitchen island staring at me while he finishes his story. “Of course, Mae was only six or seven years old. It was hard for her to understand. But it stuck with me. So I named the restaurant after my mother’s kettle. So, she’d always have it in a way.”
“That’s really sweet, actually.” I hold the teeming cup of tea in front of my face, breathing in the hot fumes of orange pekoe. “When are you moving your mother in with you?”
“I don’t know, actually.” Jae looks down at his own mug. “The renovations are going to be quite over what I budgeted. And…” He trails off for a moment, and he lets go of his mug.
“After all you told me about Grant, I felt wrong about renovating the apartment. It really is beautiful as it is. I’m not the one who should be breaking down walls.”
He takes a hefty pause in which I say nothing.
This surely can only mean one thing. I take a small sip of tea.
“I’ll be selling the apartment once I find a new place.”
“Where will you go?”
“Somewhere in the Village.” Jae looks at me reassuringly, his lips pressed into the tiniest inkling of a smile, the tiniest bit of twinkle in his eyes. “Somewhere not too far from you.”
“I wasn’t worried.” Yes, I was.
“It’s too much having you so close.” Jae’s eyes crinkle as he laughs. They make him look so much more tempting than he is without the wrinkles.
“Being enticed is the least of my worries.”
“It’s one of mine.” Jae hides his smile behind his mug.
The thought suddenly pops into my mind: I should give him a house key. In case of emergencies. And Lily. I open the newly decided upon junk drawer in my kitchen and dig around for my extra set of keys.
“I have something for you,” I say.
“What are you talking about?”
I close the drawer and set a pair of keys onto the counter in front of him.
“My apartment keys. In case of emergencies.”
“In case of emergencies,” Jae repeats, like it’s a question. “What kind of emergency would you be having that I need to let myself in without you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I fell in the shower or something.” I pft a sigh and add, “Just take them! It would make me feel better if someone had them.”
“If you say so.”
“In case I lock myself out. There.” I’m pleased to have a real reason.
“I’ll make you an extra set. I had the locks changed.” Jae jingles the keys at me. “I have to get going for real this time. I’m sorry. I told Rishi I’d meet him for drinks.”
It’s 7:30. Time has flown like a plane in the jet stream.
“To talk shit about your date?” I’m sarcastic as hell.
“Of course not.” Jae places his mug in my sink without me even asking. What manners. “I’ll call you before bed, okay?”
“Okay.”
Jae presses a gentle kiss on the top of my head and closes the door quietly behind him—and I am alone for the second time in one night.
So much of my life is spent waiting . Waiting for Grant to come home. Waiting for group therapy. Waiting for a new commission to come in. Waiting for tomorrow, waiting for the day after tomorrow.And now, I spend my entire night waiting for my phone call. I am obsessed with my phone. I check after my shower. No missed calls. An episode of a house flipping show. No missed calls. Lily’s walk. No missed calls. No missed calls. No missed calls.
Although I am anxious, I’m clear on what we agreed upon re: exclusivity, but I still have a thousand unanswered questions and I don’t even know what will come barrelling out of my mouth the second I open it to answer the phone as soon as he calls. I am beyond flustered.
He’s making me feel all kinds of things I haven’t felt in years and all I really want to do is shove them in a used gym duffel bag and drop it off in the closest park.
I want to laugh hysterically, but all that comes up is a strained sigh because as much as I’m overwhelmed, I’m happy with this arrangement.
This is what I wanted, isn’t it? So why do I feel so hesitant?
I plan my next move. Is it better to obsess over the past or the future?
Should I open the can of worms that is crying over Grant’s photo, clothes and things that I’ve preserved over the years? Do I need to grieve one last time before I go into the future that is coming faster than I anticipated?
I picture myself in a familiar scenario I’ve been in many times before: I’m on my bedroom floor, an Arcade Fire vinyl playing over the stereo. I’m clutching the last shirt he wore, with a thousand photos strewn over the floor, surrounding me like a sea of memories.
I’m startled by this daydream when I realize it’s at the old apartment. I have yet to grieve in this new place. What a shame, I can’t wait to christen it with my tears. Maybe I ought to overthink the future instead.
I daydream about what my relationship with Jae could look like. It could really go one of two ways—just fine or really, really badly. We could get along really well. We could be happy. I could see us being together for a long, long time.
And as soon as I’m picturing Jae proposing to me on top of a rooftop overlooking the city, I’m hit with a frightening thought, and I am bent and mangled like a T-boned car.
What if Jae dies, too?
What would I do?
I don’t think I could handle it again. I know I couldn’t handle it again.
I don’t even know what to make of the thought. I couldn’t picture myself losing two lovers. No one pictures themselves losing one. What would I do if Jae died? My chest tightens at the thought of him not being here anymore. Not calling me every night. Not kissing me. Not feeding me food at his restaurant.
What if he’s dead and that’s why he’s not calling me?
I picture him in a thousand different scenarios, all with the same ending: Jae lying cold and dead at a morgue. Being transferred into a wooden coffin. Being lowered into the ground. Me, bursting into uncontrollable tears at just the mention of his name. Just like Grant.
I shake my head and clear the thought. Thinking about the future is supposed to be happy. It’s not productive to think this way. I think back to group therapy. Imagining the pain of losing someone only amplifies it when you have to do it for real. But still, I hold my head in my hands, tears brimming on my short, stubby lashes.
Please don’t die, Jae. Let me die first.
My phone finally rings.
INCOMING CALL: Jae Cho.
I press the green answer button.
“Hellooo, Riley!” Jae’s voice is a little slurred and slow.
I feel the warmth of relief spread through my chest. He’s not dead. Of course he’s not, you weirdo. “I’m so glad you called.”
“Of course. I told you I’d call.” Jae’s voice is an immediate comfort, even though I’d seen him only a few short hours ago. Anxiety will do that to a bitch, won’t it.
“How was drinks with Rishi?” I ask, a feeble attempt to make conversation.
“It was good to see him. I’ve been so busy with the restaurant. And you.” I can hear his smile through the phone.
“I missed you.” I tell him, my voice is honest and hardhearted.
“I missed you too,” I feel my heart lift and brighten the more he speaks. He’s alive and just fine. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” I ask. Tears are visible in my voice.
“You’ve never told me you missed me before. You sound like you’re about to cry.”
I press myself to try to not cry. “I’m not crying,” I deny. “I just…” I trail off for a moment. I don’t want to scare him off with my crazy worries over this. “Just promise me you won’t die, Jae.” I say his name like a command.
“I won’t die, Riley.” Jae’s voice is a loving caress of my face through the phone. “I promise.”
“Thank you.” I inhale a great, big breath like I’m about to do a yoga pose. “I was just concerned that maybe something happened to you.”
“I promise nothing will happen to me. Don’t cry.” Jae reassures me.
“You can’t die on me.” Tears stream relatively silently down my face. I cry so damn much in front of this man. “I’m not crying.”
“I won’t die on you. I can hear you crying, you know.” Jae laughs lightly, but not at me. “Do you want me to come downstairs?”
“You would?” I didn’t even think to ask.
“Of course I would.”
Without me saying anything else, the phone hangs up. Within three minutes, I hear the lock click open, and the door gently closing. My house is whisper quiet, and I can hear him take off his shoes and align them in the doorway. He makes his way through my barebones kitchen and I hear him gently press my bedroom door open.
The only lights are a buzzing set of old string lights with several burnt-out bulbs draped across my window. I am in a tangled mess of bed covers and sheets, sitting up against my bed frame, my hair lazily tied up, a trail of tissues from my nightstand to my bedroom floor.
Jae stands in the doorway, wearing a crisp olive green linen shirt and black pants, looks dressed to kill. His black hair is combed half across his forehead and half to the side, and he looks like he could be straight out of any popular TV drama.
It takes everything in me not to get up and put my arms around him like some kind of leech even though I am a mess.
“Welcome to my home,” I say flatly, unsure of what to do. I suck up an ugly, disgusting sniffle.
“What happened to you?” Jae laughs painlessly and effortlessly. “I was only gone a few hours.” He walks to sit on the edge of my bed, patting Lily on his way.
“Anxiety got the better of me.”
“Happens to the best of us.” He puts his hands on his knees and looks at me sideways.
“I don’t know what came over me.” Actually, I do know what came over me. I was afraid he’d get sick and die. Why can’t I just tell him that? I really don’t want to scare him off. “I don’t want to scare you away.”
“Riley. Look at me.”
I do as I am told and look up at him sincerely.
“You have cried in front of me several times now. Nothing you will ever do will scare me away.”
“You mean that?”
Jae pulls a tissue out of the box and uses it to wipe under my nose.
What a true gentleman.
“I mean it. Would I be wiping your nose if I didn’t?”
“Some people do fucked up things, Jae.” I laugh through whatever straggling tears I have left.
“This is not one of those fucked up things.” Jae scooches closer to me, carefully making sure his feet do not touch the bed, and that I remain balled up against the wall, and takes my face in his hands. This time I feel more like a delicate piece of stained glass than a soccer ball. “Don’t act like you’re a fucked up thing. You’ve been through a lot.”
He’s right. I have been treating myself like a fucked up thing. And I have been through a lot. “You are not the things you carry.” Jae wipes my eyes for me.
I am not what I have been.
“Can I kiss you?” I ask him.
He answers by pressing a tender, unguarded kiss to my lips. This kiss is all sweetness, all safety, no lust, no infatuation. I take his face in my hands, and they find their way to the back of his head, through his soft, luscious hair.
I find sanctuary and shelter in him as he kisses me, and I pull him closer to bring him next to me. He breaks our kiss and I miss the heat of his lips immediately, but am guarded by the heat of his body being so close to mine. He puts a hand through my hair, and while he gets caught in the tangles of my curls, it doesn’t stop him from grabbing handful after handful.
I suddenly feel too vulnerable, too naked, even though I’m decked out in the most ridiculous pajamas. Our lips are dangerously close to touching again, and I know if they do, I won’t be able to stop there. I want him to stay here with me.
“Wait,” I interject the moment he leans back towards me.
“Yeah?” Jae stops in his tracks, but his eyes remain closed.
“Will you spend the night with me?” I ask, my voice filled with genuine need. “Not like to sleep with me, I mean, to have sex.” I stumble and teeter over my words. “Just to sleep in my bed. Together.”
Jae breaks out into his winning grin. “Of course I’ll stay with you. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“The same goes for you.”
“What time do you normally go to sleep? You don’t happen to have some shorts I could borrow, do you? Or do you mind if I sleep with no pants?” Jae asks me a bunch of rapid-fire questions and I have no clear answers to any of them.
He crawls away from me and off the bed and begins unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a white muscle tank underneath. It clings to his smooth skin like plastic wrap, and it takes everything in me not to let my jaw drop. He is utterly delicious. This is all mine, now.
“I…” I don’t have a single answer. “You…” The more buttons he undoes, the fewer words I have to say. And when he slips the shirt off entirely and his forearms are bare, I just want to throw myself at him until he accepts.
He is so perfectly perfect. Jae has a hell of a body. Triceps, biceps, you name it, he’s got it. This isn’t even the first time I’m seeing him. I think back to the first time I saw him like this. In that stupidly tiny towel. I imagine it as my towel.
“Hello? Earth to Riley?” Jae laughs as he folds his shirt and places it on my wardrobe.
“I don’t have any shorts you can borrow,” I say quickly to make up for my silence.
“Should I leave and come back?”
“Don’t leave!” I say before my better judgment kicks in.
“Sure thing,” He walks down along the edge of my bed again and undoes his belt buckle. With each passing second, my heart beats faster and faster.
I try to mentally prepare myself for what I know I’m about to see, but still, I can’t manage to be anything but stunned when he unzips his pants to take them off. I force myself not to wince. Why am I the one embarrassed? He’s the one taking his pants off!
So, he’s a briefs guy.
“What’s the matter with you?” Jae asks while folding his pants to stack on top of his shirt. He turns around to set his phone on top of his neatly folded pile.
“You have a great ass,” I tell him earnestly. He does.
His black underpants stretch like nobody’s business.
“I like that you have no filter.”
When he turns around, my eyes almost roll back into my head. I’m fucked, I’m fucked. He clearly has the package to match the ass, and I swallow the growing lump in my throat. The glimpse I got earlier did not prepare me for this. I’m not ready. I try to convince myself I am.
“Where do you want me?” Jae asks me dutifully.
“Just…here...I guess.” I gesture broadly to my bed. It’s pressed up against the wall by the window to make more space by the doorway for my wardrobe and Lily’s bed. I’m huddled in the corner, bathrobe and Snoopy pajamas on.
His skin looks beautifully warm in this light and when he lies down next to me, I feel like I’m melting. Once I lie down, Jae turns so we are face to face.
“When do you want to go to sleep?” he asks, his voice husky and low.
“I don’t have a set time.” I look at his dark brown eyes, and I find a million safety nets within them. This is exactly what I need. “But I am ready whenever you are.”
“Can I put my arm around you?” He acts like a reverse big spoon by placing a hesitant arm around me. “I don’t want to go too fast for you.”
“This is just fine with me.” I tell him, and my eyes are sleepy as he draws me near and close to his chest.
“I feel safe with you.” It’s true.
“I’m glad you do.”
Jae presses an apprehensive but soft kiss to my forehead before closing his eyes.
“Goodnight Riley.”
Jae keeps his eyes closed and doesn’t say anything for what feels like an infinite amount of time, so before long, I also close my eyes.
“Goodnight Jae.”