“Clarissa. I need to hear your voice. Please,” I finally say into her voice mail.
Despondence settles in my body.
And I do the only thing I know how to do when my brain feels fogged.
I run.
I run until the thoughts can’t keep up.
Grabbing the car keys, I run down to the building’s garage, jumping into the Audi, enjoying the smell of the leather seats. It’s a Pavlovian response, reminding me about all the speeds I’ve reached in this vehicle. Turning out onto Broad Street, I make for FDR drive, weaving in and out of traffic.
The yellow light ahead goads me, and I rev the engine, passing the intersection just as the light turns red.
There’s a clearing in the road ahead and I press on the accelerator, swerving into the empty lane, a laugh slipping out, the air cooling as it whooshes through my ear.
Shit.
Sirens.
Come the fuck on.
Fuck that.
I skid between two cars and then swerve into the left lane, rushing forward, knowing there’s no way they’re going to get to me.
“Let’s go!” I shout, adrenaline pumping through.
On the bridge, the traffic moves faster than usual, but not fast enough. Behind me, I can hear the sirens, the cop car following me over to Brooklyn.
The traffic empties into Brooklyn and I make a sharp turn to take me to Downtown Brooklyn, Fuck!
A crowd of kids crossing up ahead.
I swerve into a side street, not expecting traffic, and slam into the back of the garbage track. The impact jarring all the way through my body.
Behind me, the cop car catches up, blocking me in.
“Get out of the car with your hands up,” the voice comes through the car’s PA system and I know I’m done.
I climb out of the car, hands raised over my head.” “Hello, officers, fancy seeing you here.”
***
It takes Clarissa almost three hours to come and bail me out, even though I call her almost as soon as I get to the station.
And when she arrives, she looks about as happy with me as the cops.
“What is wrong with you?” she hisses as soon as I’m released.
“What? It was just a car accident. It happens. You look good, by the way. Finally, we get to spend some time together,” I say, truly happy to see her.
If eyes could strangle, hers would be wrapped around my neck, choking the life out of me. “Is that why you called me and not your lawyer?”
“Nope, he’s out of the country right now. Probably sleeping. So, I didn’t want to waste my call on him. You didn’t answer my call either, by the way, but at least you checked your voicemail.” It sounds accusing, and maybe I mean it that way.
She tries to hail a cab, but none stop. “I’ve been busy. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“Until I believe it, Clarissa. Until I believe that after spending every moment together for weeks, now you can’t stand to be in the same room with me for two minutes, other than when we’re asleep. Something is going on, and just saying you’re busy isn’t going to cut it.” Kevin pulls over and I guide her towards the car. “So come on, I’ll drop you off at the club. I have to get ready to leave for Damien’s wedding tomorrow.”
“Matthias,” she hesitates, grappling with something within herself.
“What?” I ask, not daring to hope.
“Nothing. Um, I talked to the police, they said that they’re not going to press charges. Pay for the damages, but that’s it. I don’t know how you managed that, but…”
I kiss her on the cheek before she can stop me. “I told you, I have an adoring audience in every room,” I joke. “I thought you would’ve known that by now.”
She looks pained. “You’re going to get in trouble one of these days. And I’m not going to be there to bail you out.”
I open the car door for her and she climbs in.
“Then, darling, nothing else will matter.”
CLARISSA.
M
y anxiety is at an all-time high. It’s been growing since the night of the gala and now I can barely get through the day without having at least one full blown anxiety attack.
And the only person who’s ever really helped me, the only person I’ve felt comfortable seeing me that way… is the one person I can’t call.
Every day, I curse Gerry for what he’s done to me, for what he’s done to my relationship with Matthias. But I can’t be with Matthias knowing that one way or another, something is about to rock our relationship to the core. Maybe I’m checking out so that when it happens, somehow, I’m still going to be able to survive it.
But it hurts.
It aches knowing he’s just within reach, but that he was never really mine.
But I know now, I am his.
Completely, utterly, desperately.
And I always will be.
There’s a knock on the door and Clementine calls out to me.
“Mr. Baxter is here to see you.”
My body reacts before my brain does and I leap to my feet before I remember that I’m trying to distance myself from him. I smooth my hands over my dress and follow Clementine out, preparing my face for when I see him. “Hello, sweetheart.” Gerry.
If I had a gun, I would shoot him. Right between the eyes the pop a bottle of champagne to celebrate.
“Please leave,” I say, keeping my voice down. But I don’t want him here. In this place that had become my safe space.
“I won’t be here long, I just wanted to remind you that the time to make a choice is coming. Clock is ticking.”
“I told you, I’m not doing anything to help you take Matthias down. He hasn’t done anything wrong.”
Gerry sneers. “But he will, sweetheart, he will.”
He looks around, running his finger along my name on the door. “This is such a lovely place. I think I might book a regular table here. Just think, we’ll be able to see each other every night, wouldn’t you like that?”
Then he leaves.
And the room swirls around me.
I grab the hostess’s podium but it doesn’t help. I slip to the ground, my brain forgetting how to breathe.