Page 53 of All That Remains
"Alright, but—"
"—butnothing. And what about Carley?"
"We're not talking about Carley right now—"
"The fuck we aren’t, bro. If we're talkin’ about Stevie then we're talkin’ about Carley as well—"
"Fine," I spat.
"You’re askin’ all these bizarre questions all the sudden…but have you even thought to ask that one? You plannin’ on tellin’Carleyanythin’?"
"I was thinking maybe I should—"
"Oh my fuckin’ God, bro! Don't be a fuckin’ idiot, Rafe!"
He was done beating around the bush. Now he was just being cold. A necessary evil in his mind, I suspect, in order to get through to my childish brain. I was humiliated.
"You can't be serious, yeah?!” He closed the distance and my body braced for impact. “Thinkin’ about tellin’ someone?! About what we did?!” He grabbed my chin and shoved my head back into the door. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you daft? You have any idea the type of shit they'd say about us?! What my family would say?! Even the people in my neighborhood?!"
"Mate... m'sorry. I-I didn't think about all that—"
"No, you didn't think. Wake the fuck up, bro!"
“S-sorry.” I could hardly look at him. This wasn’t Rome. It’s like he’d become someone else, all in a split second. Talking didn’t seem to help, but I couldn’t shut up. I couldn’t stomach him being angry with me. "I just...I-I saw your phone, and I, uh, saw she was calling or something, and got sort of upset, y'know? Like...uh,frustrated, I think. I was just confused. I’m so sorry, Rome. I didn’t mean to upset you."
At that, he rubbed his hands down his face and took a deep breath through clenched teeth.
"Forget it, Rafe. None of that shit matters anymore. When it's you and me, it's you and me, yeah? In our own world. Nothin'else matters, okay? Nothin' can bother us. I don't wanna hear anythin’ aboutCarley, and I don't want to hear anythin’ about Stevie…or whoever else. You hear me?"
I nodded. He was right. It made perfect sense. Women had absolutely nothing to do with what we’d done here. His women were not my competition, nor vice versa. I had something to offer him no woman on the planet could contend with, and the reverse was true as well. What he gave me, I couldn't get anywhere else—not that I wanted to anyway.
After this trip, the name Carley wouldn’t ring the same anymore. I had pushed her to the back of my mind and piled him so high in front that I could barely remember her face. Could hardly remember her laugh, or her smell. His had taken precedence.
He shifted and brought me back to reality. So that was it. What’s done is done. We were us, apart from anything and anyone else. To keep it that way, we needed to reconcile it between us and leave it there. He said the best way to keep anything safe was to avoid discussing it at all, and I agreed. He looked relieved.
Rather worse for wear and set in my place, I started to leave the room. Before I could slip out, he grabbed me, spun me around, and pulled me into a vice-like hug. I suppose he wasn't backtracking on what we’d experienced together. Just repositioning us. As I stumbled into him in total submission, he locked his arms around my back, pressing my ribs into his with a ferocious thud. I teared up on his shoulder.
"Do you even care about me?” I croaked into his shirt. "Rome...I’m so scared…do you even love me?”
"It's okay..." he murmured into my ear. I shuddered, more out of unease than pleasure. "I got you, babe. You know I fuckin’ love you. I already told you that, remember? Whatever you need, I’m here. If you need to forget what we did, it's forgotten. If you wantmore…baby, I'm right here. Whatever you want. You hear me?” I nodded. “Didn't I say I'd take care of ya?"
I felt raw, knowing he could recall the tiniest details from our nights together with as much clarity as I did. He wouldn’t be forgetting any time soon. The tenderness in his voice and the maturity in his response threw me for a loop. Something indiscernible welled in my throat, so I clung to him. Unwilling to entertain the thought of us ending. After a final, violent squeeze, he let go. I left without looking at him. Apart from work, we didn't speak again for a week after we arrived home.
19
Laurel Canyon
February 2018
That evening after therapy, I recounted my confessions to Naomi and no longer felt a sense of dread. The mortification that had trailed me out of the office and kept me from looking John in the eye had also begun to abate. Particularly after Rome's latest text. My phone lay in the center of the writing desk in my bedroom, and I sat in front of it like I’d been summoned by the magistrate. Seeing his name appear across my screen again after two years left me reeling. I was so high that if I stepped out of a window, I wouldn't touch the ground fordays.
I opened the message to find he had texted the address as promised. Nothing more. It was someplace outside of Beverly Hills, close to where he lived. I wanted to respond and draw him deeper into conversation, yet didn't want to be forward. So I decided to wait and unwrap him tomorrow in the flesh.
"Got it, thanks," I typed. "See you tomorrow?" He replied so quickly I nearly dropped my phone.
Rome: "Can't wait. Seriously."
The‘seriously’opened a door of hope I wasn't quite prepared to gaze through. That I was an egotistical son-of-a-bitch didn't help either. Too often I let my imagination get carried—which it sought to do now, presuming he was desiring me.
