JE T'AIME
A/N: Louise Attaque- Arraches-moi
It would not take a bit of her might she convinced herself. She had done this all her life, and she would keep doing it again; she met men, she used them- and let them use her too- then she left them.
"What do you want to eat tonight? I'm the mood for Sushi, Japanese may be?"
"Sushi will do then."
John drove besides her, and she looked out the window thinking of what she would tell him and how she would tell him. It gave her a migraine, and cold sweat to think of his reaction, but if she did not, she knew there was a lot more to loose for both of them. Goosebumps spread all over her skin as she imagined all the possible scenarios; the worst being the one where he blamed her for seducing him in the first place- no, that one happened in all the scenarios- the worst would be if he asked her to stay, because she knew she would have tonight get cruel, and John did not deserve that. She rubbed her arms lightly as they stopped at a red light.
"Wait." He said then he grabbed one of his sweaters, pulled down the zipper, and put it around her shoulders.
"Oh! You didn't have to."
"It's alright." He smiled warmly. A big lump formed in her throat as he smiled at her, and she shrugged the sweater on.
"Thank you John, thank you so much…" she breathed. It was pouring as they drove into Philadelphia. They had spent the weekend in Maine and they had done the craziest things amongst which, dancing Tango all night in the middle of Maine Street, with no music except John's pathetic imitation of Carlos Santana and her two left feet in the snow. A hobo stopped by and thought they were newlyweds and began screaming 'Congratulations!" and threw snow at them in place of flowers. To thank him, John gave him a fifty-dollar bill, and he carried her on his back while they sung Dans Le Port D'Amsterdam a song by Belgium singer, Jacques Brel, in which he described a port in her native city. Surprisingly, John knew the song word for word but he had no clue what he was saying, and his French, though a little gauche sounded adorable.
"You're thinking about the other night again huh?"
"How d'you know?"
"That's the smile you have when you make fun of me; my French right?" he chuckled.
"Indeed, your French. You should speak French every day."
"Not if you're making fun of me. Not everyone is Miss I-speak-four languages."
"Three, I only know how to say 'more' and 'no thanks' in Italian."
"I don't wanna know how you learned that." He chuckled.
"No you don't!" she laughed.
John's phone rang, and she stopped laughing. He took it out of his pocket and picked up.
"Hey baby." He started. She put her earphones and listened to some music as he discussed with Liz. It had started making her uncomfortable to hear him speak to her, mostly because her phone calls interrupted the good humor, the laughter, and sometimes sex. It was hard to come back to reality after that, especially for John, because it was harder to cheer him up after he'd heard his lovely wife telling him she loved him then fucking her right after.
Gage had made up her mind. It was their last night together, tomorrow morning, she would tell him she had to go back to Florida for work, and that would be the end of it. John was kind, funny, witty, attentive, and he had that bit of mystery that intrigued her, and poor woman that she was. She had seen a doctor for her sleeping problems, and then she was directed to a psychologist; because somehow her lack of sleep originated from something going wrong in her subconscious. All the Freud talk bored her to tears; and she finally accepted to see him and she had an appointment with the man today. They arrived at their hotel, and John carried her luggage.
"Have you ever been to a shrink before?" she asked John.
"We see one twice every month. Since the Chris Benoit incident, Vince makes sure no one gets close to the red line."
"In this case, it is justified. The man did kill his own kids." She replied as they unpacked their things. She had gotten to know a lot of things about John; he had even let her come with him at the arena before his co-workers came in flooding. She'd watched him work out from the other end of the gym, watched the show from his lodge, discreetly accompanied him to a signing, and on a set to shoot a commercial. There were dozen people that accompanied him to his public appearances, all she had to do was have a 'staff' badge around her neck and melt into the crowd.
'No one knows what happened in that house. Questions are still raised, and I didn't know Chris very much at the time, but he was anything but a murderer. ' John replied.
« I guess i'll find out if I'm a psychopath in about an hour. » Gage said looking down at her watch.
That wouldn't surprise me very much. I mean you do lock yourself up in 90° heat for inspiration. » he chuckled.
« You can't understand the mind of an artist. No one understood Van Gogh. »
« I'll never understand a guy who cuts his left ear off, that's for sure. »
« Oh! Tell me more about all the things you experienced while you were in the 18th century John. I'm all ears. »
John himself had done some homework, and the painters that influenced Gage; from Van Gogh to Cézanne, through Pollock or Doronin, he'd listened to every late night monologue Gage recited before falling asleep. She spoke in a low masculine voice like in her mind surprised her as it wondered through her souvenirs. She told him tales about her favorite painters, that she would not consider herself a true artist, perhaps because she had known success and fame while she was still alive and well. He discovered a great deal about her. Small insignificant details, things with no consequence, nothing that betrayed her real secrets.
They arrived at the Loews Hotel, right in the city center of the city of Brotherly Love. They repeated their discretion ritual; she booked another room with the same name; Heather Field and went up to her room before he joined her or vice versa.
Time to see shrink, I'm leaving the hotel, see you later. She sent the text to John before heading out.
Parquet floor, light green walls, and flower pots at each corner of the room. While she paced the room, Gage eyed the place pessimistically, wondering if someone with such lack of taste in design could help her with sleep problems. She remained calm, hands on her crossed legs until the door opened and two men came out.
« Don't be afraid to give this a try Damien, don't fear a little pain…happiness could be on the other side. »
« Yes doctor, thank you doctor. »
« I'm still here if you need me. Have a good day. »
« Thank you very much. »
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. The amount of money shrinks charged patients only to give hypothetical, broad, and cliché advice they would never follow.
« Miss Jansen? »
She stood up and shook her head yes.
« I'm doctor Feldman, but you can call me Hans. Please come in. »
She entered the barely lit room. The blinds were half drawn, and the furniture looked it was made from dark mahogany, and a smell of mint floated around the room. Perhaps another one of those relaxation techniques scents. She sat on the sofa he pointed to her while he sat in a chair right across from her.
« How are you today Miss Jansen? »
« Look, doc. I only have trouble finding sleep, if we could cut this out and you'd tell me what sleeping pill I can take, that would be wonderful. »
« Of course, I'd like to have a little chat before I prescribe anything. To know which one you should have. »
« Okay. Well, you might have guessed that I am a little tired. »
« Have you been practicing strenuous activities recently? »
« That depends on what you define as strenuous. » she chuckled.
« Have you travelled? Do you have a night job? Or practice any sport? »
« I have been doing all those. »
« How come you don't find sleep then? »
« I was hoping you'd tell me. » she chuckled.
« Well I'll need a lot of information since we do not have much time. »
« Okay. » She inhaled deeply and decided to take a leap of faith. Gage uncrossed her legs, and put her hands on her needs, like she was about to make a confession. But it was a confession; with the exception of Nicholas, no one knew about her affair with John and there was also the big-eyed, and colorful Mr Barns, but as he had reached a certain age, the majority would think he was senile. This left her no other option than Dr Feldman.
« I'm having an affair with a married man. » she started.
« Alright, does he live in Philadelphia?»
« Not at all, we live in Florida actually. He's been traveling around the country for business. »
« What is his name? Or what name can we use for him? »
« We can call him Jay. »
« Alright, so how would you describe your relationship with Jay? »
« It's not a relationship and there isn't much to say about it. We simply fulfill each other's needs. That is all. » she began tangling and untangling her fingers in her lap, and through the window, she found herself staring distractedly at the ombre orange waves in the sky.
« I see. What needs? »
« Doc, you must know what kind of needs take a married man away from his household. »
« You're right miss Jansen. » he smiled. « And how do you feel about your affair with Jay? »
« I just said it. »
« Let me say this differently; what needs bring you to Jay? »
« The same ones that bring him to me. »
« And that is all? »
« Yes. »
« Is this the first time you have an affair with a man like Jay? »
« Yes. » she replied quickly before she processed the question differently. « I mean no. »
« Do you mean you have dated other men like Jay or that you have had other affairs of this kind before? »
« Yes, I have been a home-wrecker before. » she sighed.
« I wouldn't allow myself to use such terminology. »
« But that is what you think. »
« Me being your Doc and you being my patient, professional ethics restrict me from being judgmental. But why do you call yourself a home-wrecker? After all, you are nothing but a woman and the men you…encounter are all aware and adult. »
« I don't know, I guess it's become a habit. »
« Tell me more about Jay; how long have you been seeing each other? »
« I moved to the States eight months ago, and Jo-Jay and I…three months I think. »
« Had you known him long before that? »
« Not really, we're neighbors so there is the effect of proximity. »
« I see. »
Dr Feldman was a left-handed, middle-aged -more late 30s- man, and he too, like Jay…John had a gold ring on his finger. He wore glasses that appeared as a barrier to his dark blue eyes and around his mouth was a week's beard which he scratched with the round tip of his pen.
How did you and Jay become intimate? » he said while one his eyebrow slightly raised. It was a tough question, and Gage could not quite find the answers. Things simply evolved between her and John at the speed of light. One moment they were complete strangers, the next one, they were dining on a skyscraper in Las Vegas. Things had gotten out of hand; too quick.
« We…fooled around for a while; testing the temperature, trying to warm up to each other's company at first. Because Jay was reluctant to have an explicitly sexual relationship. »
« Did you want an explicitly sexual relationship? »
« That's all I ever knew. »
There was a pause. Doc Feldman took this time to write down a few notes and scratch the tip of his pen on his chin again. Gage observed as his mind vamped around the words he had written down, as if eager to know the verdict to her trial.
« Luckily for us, you're my last appointment of the day. »
« Why lucky? »
« Because, I think your lack of sleep is simply a physical outcome of an emotional malfunction. »
« Pray tell. »
« I think you are anxious. You are frightened…or let me use another word; disturbed by the possibility that your affair with Jay might lead to more; to feelings. You have had no prior experience with such things, and you don't know how to handle it. You and Jay seem to have very busy lives, yet you accompanied him on his business trip. Perhaps Miss Jansen, your needs are more than just physical and you need to reconsider your position vis-a-vis Jay; you're left with a dilemma. »
« Which is… »
« To leave or Not to leave. »
Gage's face remained impassive with the explanations of the man. She had realized those things before arriving into Philadelphia, but it helped to hear the words come from someone else's mouth. She crossed her legs again and looked at Dr Feldman.
« So…what should I do Doc? » she sighed.
« I cannot decide that for you. » He said, taking off his glasses and cleaning them with a handkerchief.
I'm going to end it. »
« Why should you? »
« Because…things are getting too confusing. He is married. »
« Just like the others. »
« But John is not like the others! » She unconsciously balled her hands into fists and hit them against her knees.
« Miss Jansen; why don't you give yourself some more time? A few days perhaps? »
« I can't doc, I haven't had more than 30 minutes of sleep since 5 days. »
« I'll give you a prescription for some Diphenhydramine, but I think you don't need sleeping tablets. »
« Again, pray tell; I'm all ears. »
« Though some things are still unclear, I think Jay is the root of your anxiety, and the more you think about it, the more it gets confusing. For your own good, I suggest you keep some distance between the two of you for a while; at least until you figure out your next move. »
« Alright. How is that supposed to help? » she frowned.
« Out of sight, out of mind. It'll help you get some sleep again. »
« What if it doesn't work? »
« You can still come back, I'll be glad to work on your case or you can also call me. » he said as they both stood up and walked back to the door.
« Any time? » she smiled seductively in front of the door.
« Only during working hours. After that, all you get is a grumpy divorcee patting his cat. » he chuckled. He opened the door for her and suddenly she was overwhelmed by an unfamiliar warmth. Dr Feldman handed her his card, with his office number neatly typed and his personal cell number hastily written in pen.
« Thanks doc. » she smiled, leaving a kiss on his cheek.
« My pleasure Miss Jansen. Be careful, and don't forget to get some rest. » he said, but Gage walked away.
—-
On her way back home…or better yet the hotel. Gage tried to get her mind off John as much as she could. She took a taxi to the nearest mall, bought an ice-cream and did some quality shopping. Unexpectedly, it had been easy…for the first two hours, but the two hours is already good she thought. She cruised through the shops, feeling completely relaxed; then she entered a lingerie store and immediately all sorts of thoughts pervaded her mind. Mesh, satin, silk, she wanted it all; but she thought of whom she would wear it for; after John.
She thought of Nicholas and the kind words he bid her. It would take her some time to find another man after John; but change takes time to get used to. She thought of Céline; Nicholas's muse. A woman had never looked so desperate; she was after him the whole night…like a 'winning horse of the Kentucky Derby'. She smiled at one of those typically American expression; she heard John say it a lot when he talked about the women he worked with. But what the hell is a Kentucky Derby?
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she took it out.
Johnny
She picked up.
« Hey beautiful! »
« Hey. » she replied; he sounded out-of-breath, like he'd been running.
« So, how did it go? With the shrink. Are you nuts? »
« Well, not yet. It seems all I need is some rest. He gave me some pills. »
« Oh…I'm sorry. I wouldn't have asked you to come with me if I knew it was going to mess you up. »
« Oh please, cut out the crap. I have stamina! Just not as much as you do. »
« You sure? Cuz I'm not up speaking french around you anytime, and dancing under the snow in chuck tailors, or giving hobos the money I so hardly earned. »
« Don't be so greedy. You could be that hobo. »
« What' are you doing now though? Tonight's pay-per-view so I'll come in late. » He said, sounding like a door shut behind him.
« I'll get dinner and try to catch some sleep then. » She said, trying to sound normal, and hoping it slips.
« I thought you'd want to sneak in, and hang out. It's our last week, after that you can get to rest all you want. But since you need to… »
« Do you hear yourself? » she chuckled. « It's nice to see someone worries about my health! »
« I honestly didn't think it was that bad. »
« I'm just messing with you. Go get ready big star, you have a crowd to make love to. »
« If they're half as good as you, I have no problem. »
« Go now, I'll see you tomorrow. »
« See ya. »
It was only after an hour and a half of pacing the room quietly that Gage took herself to bed. The pain of lack of sleep had now vanished, and her stomached twisted with anxiety. How was she to leave? How was she to say goodbye so quickly and to act like nothing had ever happened? After bringing him this far, would that not make her a monster to push John off the cliff?
There is a common dilemma that accompanies sentiments of love; a common risk we are often exposed to. Do you abandon yourself in it; in spite of all the consequences? Or jump then hope for the best.
Gage looked through her window while she sucked on her cigarette. The cloud of smoke dispersed quickly as the wind blew through it she thought her and John resembled that cloud of smoke; ethereal, volatile, weak. She ignored where the cigarettes came from, but they were a pack of Marlboro Classics; they had probably taken them while in Maine. The feeling was sickening but the smoking soothed her stomach aches, she then proceeded to order drinks from the room service.
« I guess this deserves a toast. »
And quite a lonely toast it was. She sat down on her bed and examined the last two months of her life and not a moment was spent without John. Her biggest fear was not going to back to nothingness; she was busy enough with her professional life. No, what she feared was John's reaction. At best, he would hate her and never want to see her again that or he would plea, beg her not to end their relationship. Relationship. She had taught him better; not to beg, to be weak but John…John is always full of surprises.
While lazily drinking down her of bottle of Jameson, she pondered and pondered, never finding the answer. Finally, she checked the time on her watch, and John should have gotten back from the show, so she went to his room. She knocked on the door lightly and silently prayed he was there, because she was barefoot and anyone with clear vision could noticed her balanced shifted sideways.
« Who's that? »
« T'is an angel darling. » she replied, and the door opened instantly. John turned the lights on.
« I thought you were getting some rest tonight! » He said, he had a towel around his shoulders.
« Well, I have something to tell you. Sit, please.» she said and he sat on the edge of the bed besides her. Gage did not need to clear her mind, she had practiced in front of her mirror, retained the words, and rehearsed her facial expression before coming.
« John, there's something very important that I need to tell you. » she paused. She tried to look at him, but her gaze did not stay on his face.
« Will I be needing any of that? » he asked. She nodded and handed him the bottle. He took a long gulp and shook his head. It reminded her the first time he'd come to her house.
« I wish I'd taken something better for our last drink.»
His eyebrows furrowed.
« John, I don't think we should-'
« Stop. » He interrupted.
« I really think I should finish my sentence though. »
« No you don't. I know what you're going to say. I'm not that stupid Gigi, you haven't been talking to me in days. » John put down the bottle at the foot of the bed and turned to her.
« You can't do this anymore. »
« Yes, I can't. » she replied.
« Then we're done, whatever this was. It is over. »
His blue eyes…that ocean of truth looked into her once again and for once she could not look away. The room was hot suddenly; she could feel the heat climbing her neck, and into her ear then on her face. She had somehow sobered up in an incredibly short time lapse. She zoned out for a while, until John called her back.
« Hey. » He shook her hand.
« Yeah… » she took her hand out of his. « I did not think it would go so smoothly. Honestly, I thought you would…but it's all good. »
« So this is it? »
« Yeah, I guess. »
« Unless you have anything else you'd like to tell me. » There was a pause, and she looked up. He looked expectantly at her, his gaze forcing her mouth to spill out words she had no intention of uttering.
« I guess so. I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon. You don't need to worry about anything, I booked a flight already. » Gage looked away and stood from the edge of the bed.
«…Fine. I'll tell you good night then. » He replied coldly.
« Okay…I'll see you tomorrow morning? Or you and…Liz can grab coffee when you come back…I don't know…whatever suits you.'
She exhaled heavily, and walked to the door. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and her face blushed something she suspected was anger. She did not quite understand what had just happened; and what had happened…She hadn't expected it to happen that way. She'd hoped for a last…ride to heaven with John…just one last time to feel him inside her, to hear him groan beneath her and calling her name.
« Gigi » he called up. She turned around, as he made giant steps to her. He grabbed her by the waist, put his hand on her neck and his lips were not hers before her eyes could close. Their kiss was heated, but when were they not? He wrapped his arm around her side to pull her closer to him and his hand -quite unconsciously- held her neck tighter than necessary.
« Why wouldn't you say it Gigi? » he murmured as he pulled away momentarily. His warm lips caught her lower lip and tugged it, then his tongue went for hers and his hand never left her neck. John pulled back again.
"Say it Gigi… " He looked down at her expectantly before his mouth went to her neck.
« Gigi… »
« John, I-I can't! » She moaned and he stopped.
« You can, you just wouldn't want to give me so much satisfaction. »
« It's not my call John. »
« Then WHOSE is it? » He hissed, his fist hitting the door behind them.
John…you have a wife, and a life. You're not like me, what do I get to tell you what you'd like to hear? »
« Me. »
During a brief second of weakness, she looked up to him, into his blue eyes…the ocean of truth. She travelled in time, and imagined an entire lifetime with John. He would leave Liz, and they would live together…she would be that housewife to wait for him to come back from work. She imagined a child…two children, a boy and a girl, with John's eyes and hopefully his smile. Was she really made for all this? Could she promise John to be the only man in her life? Unanswered questions ran through her head as she weighted her words.
« Gage, I love you. » He paused. « Tell me you love me too. »
A/N : Life…has caught up with me people. I apologize for the long, long, long wait but this bitch had lost her love for writing. Heartbreak, Studies, and too much shit to put up with. I thank you for welcoming me back, and I hope you like this chapter.
Ps : Aruodo99, girl ! Do your thing, I can't wait to read you ;)