Rain on a Tin Roof: Part 3
Note from the author: There will be one more part to complete this story. I have already written it, but I'm going to make you wait a few days for the conclusion. Thanks to everyone for the great reviews. Keep 'em coming, or I just might not post the final chapter ;) !
-RING-
It's his cell number on the caller ID. He expects me to pick up. After almost six months he wants me to answer the phone.
Does he really expect me to still be sitting here on a Friday night waiting for him to call? He probably expects me to grab the phone after the first ring. He thinks that he can just come running back into my life like a bullfrog to a puddle in the middle of July.
I'm no puddle, but toad could be an apt description for him.
-RING-
I thought I got past the 'I miss him but at least he's happy' phase. I entered the 'who the hell does he think he is' phase about three months after he left, but I've gotten past that too, and reverted back to being happy about his happiness. At least I think he's happy.
-RING-
I'm miserable, though, but it has little to do with him. He's gone, and I can accept that. We were friends and occasional lovers, nothing more. Do I feel like he used me? No. I was glad I could be of some comfort to him. That, after all is what friends are for. Sure, we had a unique way of expressing our friendship, but it worked for us. In past tense.
No, I'm miserable because of me. My job is no longer fun. I spend my days yelling at Josh about one thing or another, and when that doesn't work, I get Donna on him about whatever it is that particular day. I'll go over and over something with Toby, and still am unable to convince him of anything. CJ listens to me, and we have become fairly good friends, but she still thinks of me as the Republican girl from the South.
-RING-
At the end of the day my mind always goes to him. I could yell at him, but I never had to get Ginger or Bonnie to baby-sit him. I could convince him to see things in a different light easily, and he never sat there and scowled at me. And he did think of me as someone other than the blonde Republican girl that nobody liked. He got over that. This place seems lonely without him.
"HI YOU'VE REACH AINSLEY HAYES. I AM NOT HERE RIGHT NOW. I'M PROBABLY WORKING LATE. CALL ME AT WORK OR ON MY CELL OR BETTER YET, LEAVE ME A MESSAGE AND I'LL GET BACK TO YOU WHEN I HAVE A FREE MINUTE…WHICH SHOULD COME AROUND IN ABOUT FOUR MORE YEARS. THANKS!"
Four more years. I can't last four more years in that place. I don't have the stamina, nor the desire to stay. It's not worth it anymore.
I don't know what anything is worth anymore.
"Ainsley. It's Sam. Hi. Would you pick up please? Or open your door? I know you're at home. You car is outside. Please we need to talk."
I peek out my peephole, and sure enough…he's standing there. The overcast night doesn't allow me to see him well, but I know it's him.
I can't let him in. I can't face him. Not because I hate him or because I feel used, but because I let myself get caught up in this more that I should have. Damn emotions.
I slide down the wall next to my door, sitting on the cold tile for a while, pulling at my frayed blue jeans, giving him adequate time to leave. I open the door to make sure that he's gone, not thinking to check the peephole again.
He's sitting on my front step, waiting.
He doesn't turn around, but starts talking anyway.
"We never talked about it."
"Didn't think you wanted to."
There is no need for either of us to question what the 'it' was.
I lean against the door jam looking out onto the street.
"I didn't," he finally turns to look at me. "But we should have."
I look into those dark baby blues, but I don't let myself fall again.
"Yeah."
"Ainsley, I was wrong. I just don't want you to think that I was using you."
"Now why would I think that?"
"Please…"
I cut him off as he stands and faces me.
"Sam. I'm not mad at you. I was…there because you needed me. I wouldn't change anything."
"That doesn't make it right."
"I know. But it's not your fault or mine. It just happened."
"I want you back."
"Sam, you never had me."
He looks like I slapped him in the face. I try to back track.
"That's not what I meant. I'm just saying that we were a casual thing. There was never any indication that you wanted more. So I didn't press. You don't owe me anything."
"Did you?"
"Did I what?"
"Want more."
Suddenly, I can't speak.
"Ainsley."
I break our gaze, and look back out toward the street.
"At one point, I thought that I did. But you didn't need that pressure."
"Why don't you let me decide what I need and what I don't need?"
"Sam…"
"Ainsley, I need you."
I stare at him, but I don't let any emotion show on my face. I know we can't move this too quickly. It could be too painful.
"I…I'm not sure how to respond to that. You left. You live on the other side of the country. You never called, never wrote. Now you show up on my doorstep."
Tears are now threatening on the edge of my eyes, but I refuse to let them overflow.
"I know I don't deserve you, especially the way I treated you, but I've been thinking about you since the election. None of that matters now. I was...I thought I was going to miss my opportunity, but apparently it was the opportunity here that I really missed." he pauses and sighs deeply. "I'll go now. I had to try."
He throws his bag over his shoulder in defeat, and turns to walk out into the night.
He's standing at the street when I call his name.
"Let's talk about it now."
He stops as I follow him out. He faces me, and I see that his eyes are mirroring mine, shining and moist.
I continue.
"I missed you too. I wanted to be angry with you, but that never lasted. I just want you to be happy. I'm not saying that I'm going to be that for you, but we can put some effort into it. I want to try."
He tentatively puts his arms around me wrapping me into a hug, one that I hastily reciprocate.