I promised a happy ending and I finally found some time to force it out. Sorry it took so long.
My relationship with Lily lasted three months. She was a great girl. Almost everything about her was contrary to Sarah. I think that's why I was so enamored. Lily loved music, particularly country music, which I found strange, but it grew on me. Despite Sarah's initial claims, she did have a sense of humor, even if it was very subtle. Lily had one too. Hers was more apparent, however. She had that way of speaking that was sometimes totally sarcastic and sometimes entirely truthful. I had a fun time trying to discern the two.
Ellie was ecstatic over the relationship. As soon as Sarah was gone, she claimed to have had a bad feeling about 'the girl'. Logically, I knew Ellie was just saying that because she thought it was what I needed to hear, but it angered me. I wanted to jump to Sarah's defense, talk about her passion and kindness. That should have been my first clue that the relationship with Lily was not going to end happily ever after. My sister was talking about babies and weddings after week two, but no such thoughts ever crossed my mind, whereas I thought about those things constantly when I was with Sarah.
It was around week seven when I concluded that I was experiencing the typical rebound relationship. Jill's departure had been so sudden and unexpected that I couldn't even function enough to find someone else to heal the hurt. Sarah's disappearance was at my insistence and I saw it coming from a mile away. As hard as it is for me to admit, since I consider myself a good person, Lily was a distraction from the utter devastation Sarah left in her wake.
We did everything that Sarah and I never had. They were things she probably would have loved. I can picture the jaw dropping look on her face, if she ever found out I played paintball, went to an art museum, camped in a national park, and took a pottery class.
Sarah loved me. I knew she did. The problem was that she never really got to know me. I was always pushing our relationship and it was too late by the time I realized I'd pushed it too far in too short of a span. It was an intense relationship that burned out prematurely. The feelings were there, but the foundation never really formed.
Although our relationship ended, Lily taught me the value of exploring personalities and forming friendship. I was so elated at Sarah's acceptance of my love that I forgot the principles of building a long lasting partnership. Ellie would be ashamed to hear it, considering she sat me down at the age of 15 to read then to me from Teen Magazine.
The two months following my separation from Lily have been lonely, but I feel no compulsion to find companionship. In fact, I think I'm leaving the BuyMore. Even though I love the atmosphere, it's time for me to move on to a career. Every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I attend classes at a local university. I may have been shamed out of Stanford, but the credits I earned still meant something.
No one knows where I go. I make up a different excuse to anyone that asks. I've gotten good at lying over the years. I've also become rather proficient at being inconspicuous, which is how I manage not to alert the neighbor's guard dog. Morgan and I still live together. He's not the worst roommate on the planet. I actually get the feeling that he will soon be asking me to vacate the premises. He and Anna have gotten serious.
Entering my home after another exhausting day of work and school, I toss my bag to the ground. I think longingly about crawling into my heavenly Sleep Number bed, but Casey ordered me to review some new government data. It was more of a threat, actually. He hasn't cottoned on to the fact that I know he's just one big teddy bear.
Aware that I'm in for a long night, I head for the kitchen, flip on the lights, and brew a pot of coffee. I would use Red Bull to stave off the sandman, if it weren't for the fact that Morgan drank it all on a dare. As the coffee begins to percolate, I lean my weary body against the counter. I've been going at life a little too hard lately and I'm starting to feel it. My sleep debt is in the trillions, kind of like my secondary employer's, only they play with real money.
Just as the scent of coffee begins to waft through the air, I hear a tentative knock at the door. It's so soft that I doubt if I really heard anything at all. Thankfully, a second, more assured, knock follows the first. Shoving off of the linoleum counter, I make my way to the front door. My curiosity about who could be calling at such a late hour hastens my footsteps.
Without concern for whether or not the person on the other side is friend or foe, I throw the door open, plastering on my customary grin. It falls immediately, however, at the sight before me. I literally rub the sleep from my eyes to confirm that the image in front of me is reality and not some Sleep Number induced dream. When the picture stays intact, I consider closing the door. Warring emotions of joy and anger threaten to drown me. I settle for indignation.
"What are you doing here Sarah," I ask, as if she is the last person in the world that I wanted to find on my doorstep.
Sarah looks stricken by my tone, but I feel no compulsion to show mercy. Through her eyes, I see her mind calculating what response to give. It's a familiar look. She never was totally open with me. There was always thought and restraint to the words she used.
"I was unhappy," she says, as if it answers every question possible.
I am in no mood to pull teeth. Being a relatively patient and forgiving person, I'm surprised to find myself shutting the door in Sarah's face.
"I'm really in no position to care about you happiness anymore," I spit out.
Seeing how truly dead set I am on getting rid of her, Sarah uses her spy honed reflexes to keep the door open. I look at the offending foot for a few seconds, before once more trying to close the door. I hear a small hiss from Sarah, as her foot is compressed on both sides.
"Would you move, please? I have work to do and a life to live," I say, annoyed at her for walking back into my life and at myself for causing her unnecessary pain.
Getting her arms into the mix, Sarah grabs the edge of the door and thrusts is wide open. "Can I please just come in so we can talk," she pleads in anger.
"Fine," I gasp, throwing my hands in the air and walking away. She can deal with the door herself.
Always an efficient worker, Sarah is quickly on my heels as I enter the kitchen. Seeing that my coffee is done brewing, I grab a cup from the cabinet and prepare it in my usual way. I don't offer any to Sarah. Vindictiveness isn't a natural trait of mine, but I can use it when the occasion calls.
Apparently, Sarah didn't desire caffeine because she launches straight into a wordy explanation. "You know it wasn't easy for me to leave right? You have to know that," she says, looking to me for confirmation.
I just raise my eyebrows, refusing to let her know what I thought. She shifts her feet in response.
"Well, it wasn't. I know I didn't put up a fight, but that was because I thought you were right. I was bored and I was dragging you down with me. That's what hurt the most," she continues.
I set my coffee cup down, having had just enough to keep me awake. Crossing my arms over my chest, I give Sarah a pointed look. "You left because you didn't want to hurt me," I question disbelievingly.
She sighs in exasperation. "Isn't that why you did so many things during our relationship? Isn't that why you asked me to go?"
My eyes widen at her words. They ring truer than I would like to believe.
"Partly," I reply.
"I would hope your mind doesn't have too stretch to far to see that I would do those exact same things. I loved you, but it wasn't working. We weren't happy and I didn't know how to fix things," she says.
I nod my head at her words. They make sense, unfortunately.
"That's hard for an agent to take. We're supposed to assess situations and come up with a game plan for the desirable outcome. I think…I think that's part of the reason why I turned to Bryce," she expounds, her voice dying at the end.
My eyes reflect the shock of her words. For an instant, Sarah moves toward me but then decides against it and quickly retreats back to the opposite counter.
"It's not an excuse, just something I realized in my time away," she assures.
"What's the point of all this Sarah," I groan, unwilling to rehash painful history.
Her face tightens. I know she's perturbed at my interruption. There's no doubt in my mind that she practiced our conversation on the flight to LAX and the ride to my house. She never did like having to deviate from strategy.
"The point is that I realized the spy world didn't make me happy either. I was miserable, even more so than you observed in my last weeks here," she reveals.
I'm shocked by her words, but I fight hard no to let it show. "So you figure to give Chuck another try. Maybe the emptiness will be a little more bearable, eh?"
Sarah shakes her head furiously. "No! I know that I was wrong. I thought that I missed being a real agent, but nothing changed when I got out into the world. I was still unhappy."
"So you were discontent in both roles," I state.
"Maybe. Or maybe I wasn't happy here because I thought I was missing out on something. Us breaking up removed the supposed handcuffs, but the despair was still there," she said, trying to make me understand her convoluted reasoning.
"Did you ever think you might just be clinically depressed," I joked. Sarah was not amused.
"No. I think we should give us another shot," she says, dropping her bombshell. I shouldn't be surprised. Why else would she bother to come see me.
"You've got to be kidding me," I say, uncrossing my arms and running a hand through my hair in exasperation.
Sarah doesn't verbally respond. Instead, she gets a determined look in her eyes. Striding towards me, she brings her hands up, grabs the back of my head, and crushes her lips against mine. Flabbergasted, I wave my arms in an attempt to show any strangers watching that I am an unwilling participant in the display. But when Sarah runs her tongue along my lips, I can no longer respond to conscious thought. My body takes over, hands pulling Sarah flush against me. A groan escapes my throat, as I deepen the kiss.
"See! It's still there," she pants, breaking the connection. I lean back onto the counter. Sarah remains close, looking up at me with expectant eyes. Our clothes touch with every breath.
"Of course that's still there. I was always physically attracted to you. Love was the easy part Sarah. It was life that we screwed up," I reason, angling away from her tempting frame.
She just manages to grab my fingertips, turning me to face her stricken figure. Pulling me closer, she places my hand between hers. As she alternates between rubbing and applying pressure, I close my eyes to the emotions that her actions stir.
"Sarah," I sigh.
She pulls my arm down, forcing my eyes open. "Please Chuck. I love you. I know I messed up, but I can make it better. I don't want to regret this and I know I will if I don't give it my all. You're the best thing that ever happened to me," she pleads.
I am insanely conflicted over her words. They're everything I wanted to hear, only a year too late. I still love her, there's no denying that. The question is whether or not I'm willing to give up the balance I've managed to create for a chance at a future with Sarah.
"What about your career, the CIA," I question, trying to stall the inevitable.
"I've asked for an indefinite reassignment to your security detail. They've promised to give me a decent cover job, with the occasional possibility of field missions. It really doesn't matter though. I think I'd leave the CIA, if that's what it took to get you back," she answers, stunning me. Sarah never voiced it, but I had always sensed that the CIA came before me on her list of priorities.
"We need to do this right. No more ignoring life and our problems. We have to get to know each other. I don't want to have to break up with you again," I kid, trying to take some of the seriousness out of my words.
Sarah cuts through the humor, getting right down to the heart of the matter. I see utter relief in her eyes. A juvenile part of me wonders what she would have done if I had turned her down.
"Of course," she assures, pulling me in for another kiss. I can feel the smile on her face. Once our kiss ends, Sarah takes my hand and tugs me down the hallway, towards my bedroom. I have no idea how she knew where it was. Must be some sort of spy thing. When we reach the threshold, I pull her body back to mine. She places her hands on my chest, looking questioningly at me.
"I think that's a little too fast," I say softly.
She grins at me, mirth alight in her blue orbs. "I just want to lay down and talk. I have no idea why your mind is in the gutter," she teases.
I poke her sides in response. She skirts away from me, jumping on the bed. I climb in after her, settling my head on the pillow. Sarah snuggles in next to me. I wrap my arms around her toned body, sighing contentedly. I can't help but think that things are finally going to work out in my life.
The End