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"And no one cared enough to give me a call for two weeks?"
"Since your phone was lost, everyone called me, and I am great at distractions." He stopped to look me over from the top of my head to the tips of my toes and smirked. "You look hot in this dress."
No surprise he liked it since he picked it up for me. It was a beautiful satin emerald-green dress, with long fan-sleeves and a v-line neck. The bottom part landed under my ass and showed enough leg to make him salivate, and the high heel sandals only added to it. On second thought, I was pretty fond of this dress too; it brought out that animal spark in his eyes that I was always starving for.
"You can get rid of it later. I'm all for it. Where are you taking me? Your suit with a three-button jacket tells me it's something fancy."
And I don't know how comfortable I am with that. I didn’t say it out loud though because I didn’t want to kill his gusto.
"We have a dinner reservation at the Chicago Yacht Club on the Monroe Harbor."
"Uh, a marina restaurant?"
"Better, I'm taking you on a yacht. We'll go sailing on the lake for a few hours, watch the sunset, look at the skyline at night and have great cooked steak for dinner."
An image flashed before my eyes. A boat. It was not a recovered memory; it was just one I forgot I had. I think I was five, maybe six, the first time I set foot on a boat. It was no yacht, that's for sure, but an old paddle boat, rusted and covered by a cracked green paint. My papa took me fishing; that was the best daddy-daughter day a girl could ask for. When I was little, I would always hear people telling father things like ‘but don't you want a boy in the house?’ or ‘you need a son to continue your legacy.’ That day on the boat was the first time I knew my dad was fine with just me, and it sparked an insane love for water in me.
When we pulled up to the marina, I was smiling like an idiot and then hours later, I still was. The sun went down, and the lights from the tall buildings were flickering on the dark mirror lake. It was chillingly beautiful.
I sat down on the deck enjoying the view, and James sat behind me with his strong arms around my waist.
"Did you enjoy tonight, love?"
"I loved every second, and I hoped the company was to your taste." He pushed me to the side so I could look back and him. A cute frown was forming on his forehead.
"Why would you say that? Most of the time I'm happy just listening to your breath."
"Nothing, I... I don't know. I think I'm still a little insecure. It's weird for me, James. You are the perfect man, and I still remember how deeply flawed I am. It doesn't take a detective to deduce that you come from one of those pretentious old-money families; you've been to a good school, had a piano. I'm a girl with a high school diploma, some drawing talent, raised in a one-bedroom home right outside of Havana. I don't remember how I got you, and it's frustrating. Hard to believe..."
The end of my sentence got lost in the breeze, and I felt exposed. It was the first time since the accident that I actually acknowledged that maybe I was not one hundred precent ok with everything. I wanted to know how my life had gone, and I wanted to know how I got here.
"Love, don't do this to yourself."
"You won't tell me much, and I just want my mind back."
"You know why I don't bomb you with information. You may not be able to cope with it. It's better if we let your brain run the course of this trauma naturally." That was what he kept telling me.
"I know. I'm just missing a huge piece of this puzzle that tells me how you picked me. James, I feel like I'm beneath you."
I could feel the furious shiver cross his body.
"Have you lost your mind for real? I'm close to ordering a new set of tests for your damn brain." The man was furious, and I didn’t think I'd seen this level of anger on him before. "You are too beautiful for your own good, witty, sharp as a knife, kind, patient, funny. I could go on like this all night. You don't have a little talent; I saw what you're painting, and it's stunning work. You make me laugh; you take care of me; you make me feel good about myself. In all fairness, you fuck me until you make my head fucking spin. There is nothing that could overshadow that."
"You don't see any flaws in me?"
"I see more beautiful things. All the beautiful things. So many that I can justify my actions to myself." I was not exactly sure I followed anymore. "I can see past all those things you see as bad, and I just hope that if it's ever the case, you could do the same."
It was my turn to frown, unsure of the meaning behind his words. I didn’t know why I was always looking for something deeper when things were so easy with James. He was a genuine man.
...But I didn’t know; something in his tone felt off. Almost like a prayer. Almost like a warning.
When life was going too smooth, it was probably because you were about to be fucked soon.
The month that followed our date in Michigan Lake was perfect, even with my crazy work schedule. Rita and I were in perfect synchrony. She was more and more comfortable being alone with Chelsea, learned her way around the neighborhood and even took the baby for a walk yesterday. When I was at the hospital, she kept herself busy with the renovation project.
That might have been the only aspect where we were not in sync because I didn’t know how I felt about the huge Virgin Mary painting that was hanging in our living room. Apparently, she was the patron of our house, even though I paid for it.
Bottom line was my life was somehow getting back on track, and the entanglement of lies and manipulation seemed to snap in place.
