I'm glad I decided to go out for dinner. This is fun. Not as much fun as I was having before, mind you, but it rates a pretty close second.
Look at her. She hates this, couldn't be more uncomfortable if she wanted to be. Her misery is practically radiating off of her in waves. I'm surprised it's not visible. And Ryan. That idiot has no idea what's going on, although I can tell that he knows that something's up. If he knew...well, then the shit would really hit the fan. He'd have a warrant out for my death, ostensibly because I had taken advantage of her. But I know what would really be bothering him. It's a pride thing with him, always has been. With all of us, I guess.
I still can't believe that it happened. That less than an hour ago, Greenlee was lying in my bed, in my arms, after the most amazing...well, I don't even know what to call it. Sex? I guess. Whatever it was, it was good. I loved it. I loved her.
And then she left.
Ryan's waiting for me at Le Calais. That shouldn't have been the first thing she said. It should have been something, anything else. But that's when I buried my head underneath my pillow, keeping it there until I heard the door close quietly. I wanted to go after her, grab her, keep her here. To pull her back into my arms, back into my bed, and just hold her, feel her. But I was paralyzed with confusion. And fear. Fear of rejection, or maybe it was fear of the truth. I couldn't get a hold of my thoughts. I still hadn't. And that frightened me.
So then I came here. I shouldn't have but I couldn't help myself. It was the only thing I could think about. I mean, I had always imagined what it would be like, but fantasy was always different than reality. Better? Maybe, but not this time. It was as though I knew everything there was to know about her, her body, but hadn't realized it until that very moment. And when she came, my breath had stilled, my head burrowed in the nape of her neck, smelling her sweat. Straining to hear her voice. But she had been silent, and I was filled with a sick sense of relief.
But parts of it had felt strange, and even though I tried to deny it, wrong. It did feel wrong that my lips were touching the same places Leo's had, that my fingers were tracing the tiny birthmark above her thigh where Leo's hands had once rested. But he was dead. And I was selfish.
Suddenly Greenlee's face drains of colour, and she brings her napkin to her face, gagging harshly. I rise quickly, thinking that she's choking, ready to spring into action. But that's not it. She simply threw up. And once again, I'm ashamed. I did this.
Ryan and Tad stare, slack-jawed, at her now flushed face. Ryan is the first speak.
"Greenlee...are you alright? Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?" I hate him. Even when he's trying to be caring and concerned he fails miserably. Tad laughs nervously.
"Guess that salmon wasn't exactly fresh." Some of the other diners have begun to stare at us. This is over.
"Come on, I'll take you home." She doesn't answer. Ryan does.
"Greenlee, go with David. We'll finish up here and then I'll be home to check on you. Maybe I'll bring you back some ice cream." Their relationship sickens me, and not just because of the obvious reasons. He's so condescending, so patriarchal, that it's almost incestuous. I certainly find it to be inappropriate. But then, that pretty much goes without saying.
"No, I'm fine. I want to stay." She looks at Ryan pleadingly but he refuses to relent.
"No, no way. You're sick, and you're going home. David's a doctor, he should check you out to make sure everything's okay." I can tell Ryan thinks he's handling this well. If only he knew. Greenlee's eyes narrow and she rises from the table sharply, knocking her chair to the floor. More heads turn.
"Fine. Whatever you say." Her voice is like ice. Ryan watches her leave, sighs, and then turns to me.
"I appreciate this David. I know she hasn't been the most enjoyable company lately." His smug and patronizing tone makes me want to throttle him.
"And yet, strangely enough, it's still infinitely more enjoyable than yours, Lavery." I hear Tad chuckle. "Shut up, Tad."
Then I leave.