CHAPTER SIXTEEN
For a moment I was completely lost for words and simply wanted to turn around and leave, but I remained rooted to the spot. I knew I imagined the slight sparkle in Paul's eyes when they met mine, before it was quickly replaced by a hard look, the rest of his face slipping from surprise into a scowl.
"I'm...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come," I muttered.
"Why did you?"
"It doesn't matter. You have company. I'm sorry, Paul," I said again, dropping my eyes away from his. Awkwardly my gaze fell to his crotch, noting his erection had quickly subsided, before I jerked my eyes away and stared at his bare feet instead.
He let out a heavy sigh, resting one hand on the side of the door and I wondered what was going through his head as seconds ticked by and no one spoke. I was only surprised he didn't just tell me to fuck off and leave him alone, but it was the blond boy who suddenly broke the silence.
"Paul, are you gonna get rid of him and get back to where we were?"
"I'll go," I said quickly, raising my eyes again although I didn't look directly at Paul. I glanced over his shoulder instead and noted the self-satisfied smirk on the blond's face.
"Don't you think you owe me some kind of explanation? Turning up at my door after more than a month?" Paul said, ignoring the boy.
"Well...uh...maybe some other time." I took a step backwards. Damned if I was going to start grovelling to him in front of that other guy, much as I was desperate to be with him.
"Paul..." the boy whined.
"Give me a minute to get rid of the twink," Paul said suddenly, much to my surprise. I glanced at the blond again, his face flushing and taking on a look of outrage. I watched as he snatched up a jacket and then advanced quickly towards the door.
"The fucking twink is leaving!" he snarled at Paul, purposefully shoving me with his shoulder as he marched past me. "Asshole!" he yelled back as he continued to the elevators.
Paul sighed again, blowing his breath out through pursed lips.
"You didn't have to make him leave on my account," I said awkwardly and he just shrugged one shoulder, indicating that he didn't really care if the boy stayed or went.
"So, what do you want?" he demanded.
"I wanted to see you," I said lamely.
"I figured. Why didn't you just call?"
"I thought you probably wouldn't talk to me," I admitted.
"Got that right. I don't need any more shit, Jacob. I just got over it."
"Yeah, I noticed."
He raised an eyebrow. "I don't think you have any right commenting on what I'm doing; you ended it, remember?"
"I'm sorry, I just...that was the guy who wanted to dance with you last time I was here."
"And?"
I felt my face flushing and I glanced behind me as a door opened and voices could be heard. A couple stood talking outside the next apartment, turning to look at us once or twice.
"Can we...talk inside?" I asked.
Paul studied me silently for another moment and then stepped back without a word to let me in. At least he was willing to talk to me, which was more than I deserved and he had asked the guy to leave, or at least let him overhear that he wasn't wanted, which I really hadn't expected. Could it possibly mean he still cared something for me, or was it only that he wanted answers?
"Wait there." He indicated the living room and then disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him. I sat down gingerly on the sofa and waited as I heard the sound of water running for a moment, then another silence. He emerged after a minute, now wearing a t-shirt, his face and hair damp as if he'd ducked his head under the faucet and dried off only partially. He took a seat on the opposite side of the room and picked up a half empty beer bottle from the table, gulping some of it quickly. I licked my lips nervously until he spoke again.
"Gonna keep me in suspense all day?" he prompted. "What do you want from me, Jake?"
"I wanted to find out if I fucked things up so badly that there's no chance for us. I guess I did since you seem to have moved on." Had he actually slept with that guy, I wondered? I knew it wasn't my business after the way I'd treated him - we weren't even together after all - but I felt a little sick at the thought of them perhaps lying on this couch I was sitting on, kissing and touching. He had obviously been enjoying it; he was rock hard when he opened the door. I shuddered slightly and a smirk touched his lips.
"Like I said, I got over it," he repeated.
"But you kicked that guy out to talk to me," I reminded him. "Why would you do that if you wanted to be with him?"
"Maybe I'm curious to find out what made you come here. You still haven't explained."
"Look, when we were...kind of...seeing each other before, I was in a lousy place. That first night...I thought that was all it would be, just one night. I never expected to see you again and when I did, I...I fell for you, Paul. You never let me say it, but I loved you...love you."
His eyes flickered and slid away from mine and he bit his lip.
"I didn't expect to feel like that," I went on. "I was torn and I didn't know what to do about you and about my family. I planned to tell Leah though...it made me accept I'd been living a lie far too long and I wasn't being fair. She deserved much more. When you came to New York last time, I imagined it would be a proper start for us, but I know I was still a mess over what I did to them. I shouldn't have given you hope like that then when I wasn't ready.
"The last month has been...difficult. Sarah's ok and she's home now. I need to be there for her during week days as she's being home-schooled until her leg heals and Leah's studying too so she can start working."
"You're together?" Paul snapped out suddenly.
"No, we're not together. We're getting a divorce. Leah's getting the papers drawn up. I'm living above the gym. I haven't stopped thinking about you, Paul. I wasn't even gonna come here; I thought it'd be too late, that I'd treated you too badly to get another chance, but Leah said...life's too short and I should try..."
"Your wife told you to come see me?" he asked incredulously.
"Yeah...she's an amazing woman; hated seeing me miserable and I was fucking miserable. I thought I'd lost the one person I figured I could have been really happy with. Tell me to go if you want and I will, but I wanted you to know how I feel; that I meant what I said to you before. I love you and I'm sorry I hurt you; let you down."
My heart pounded and I clenched my fists in my lap as I waited for him to say something. His eyes were dark and unreadable as they stared back at me, but his lips remained pinned together and he didn't speak. I simply sat there, silently praying he would give me another chance, that he would say something - anything that would let me know it wasn't too late. I estimated a full minute had passed and still he didn't say a word.
"Say something," I begged quietly.
Paul's lips parted and he tugged the lower one between his teeth, biting hard into it. His fists were clenched the same way mine were and his eyes continued to study me, almost unblinking before they slid away again and fixed on the floor between us. I had no idea what he was thinking, but when I recalled everything that had happened between us, I imagined he was wondering if it was worth it; probably deciding it was pointless giving me another opportunity to kick him in the teeth.
"Tell me to fuck off if you want," I added miserably, in little more than a whisper.
"What do you actually want?" he asked. "I mean, what do you imagine happening between us?"
"I want to be with you. Any way I can be. Like I said, I need to be with my daughter during the day until she can go back to school. I have more time free from work now; I got an assistant for Edward and a new trainer. I want you in my life, Paul."
"We live three hours apart," he pointed out.
"That wasn't a problem before I fucked it all up. I guess the trains would just get well used...to start with."
"How do I know you mean this?"
"You don't. All you can do is give me a chance to prove it. I can tell you that everybody who matters to me knows about you - Leah, Edward and Emmett, my best friend Embry. I still have to put Sarah first right now, but I know what I want; I'm not confused or in a bad place or any other shit any more. I just...I want you. It kills me not being able to see you." I looked down at my hands and fiddled with the bottom of my shirt. I couldn't ever remember laying myself bare like that with anyone, except maybe Leah when we were still close. If he asked me to leave now, it would hurt like hell, but it would still only be what I deserved and I knew I should expect it.
"Nothing happened," he said suddenly.
"What?" I raised my head, puzzled.
"With that guy. It would have..." He shrugged now. "...but we're not seeing each other."
"What about before?" I asked hopefully.
"You mean the last month? What do you think I've been doing, Jake? Fucking every guy I meet? I was nursing my..." He paused and swallowed. "...pride."
I felt a small amount of relief. He hadn't slept with anyone since me and he had let me in; let me sit here and talk. Surely there was at least a small reason to hope that I had a chance?
"You need to go." He rose to his feet suddenly and my heart plummeted.
"Paul?" I stood up too.
"I don't know what I want right now. I don't know what you expected from this; whether I'd welcome you back with open arms, tell you it's all ok; or whether you want me to come over there and fuck you, but neither of those things is gonna happen. You can't just ditch me and then show up after a month and ask for another chance! You fucking hurt me, Jacob, and you know what happened to me before! I don't want to go through any of that shit again...!" He was almost spitting as his voice grew louder and again my heart sank.
"It wouldn't be like that," I said.
"You say that, but how do you expect me to take your word for it? You think I'm just gonna plunge back into it with you and have you fuck with me again?" He turned away from me, pacing around with his fists balled, the muscles in his arms popping. I didn't know how I could make things better, but it was clear that grovelling and begging wasn't going to cut it, although I would have done it if I thought it would have done any good.
"Do you actually feel anything for me?" I asked instead. If he said no, that he was over me, then I may as well give up and go home, but it didn't seem as if that were the case.
"Do you think you could have hurt me if I didn't? I need some time to think about things." He lowered his voice and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, halting a few feet from me with his feet planted apart.
"Ok," I agreed at once. At least he wasn't just telling me to go to hell and I knew he would have if he was sure he didn't want me.
"I'll call you," he added slowly.
"When?"
"I don't know when. Just go home. I will call, but I need to figure out what I want from this. You told me what you want; I just need to decide if it's worth it."
"Ok," I said again and took a reluctant step towards the door, wondering whether I should stay in Boston overnight or simply go straight home. I hovered, looking at him longingly.
"Go."
The single word pushed me into action and I retreated and let myself out, noting that Paul turned away and didn't watch me leave. I closed the door behind me and leaned on it, my heart racing and my guts knotted up with anxiety. Waiting for him to call was going to be hell, I thought, but after what I'd put him through, I supposed it was nothing. He admitted he had at least had feelings for me before I'd ended it and when I remembered the way we had been together when I visited him the last time, I knew it had been more than just affection. Now I just had to hope that I wasn't too late; that I hadn't hurt him too much for him to risk giving me another chance.
I left the building eventually and began to walk, slowly exploring the city without really noticing anything around me. I considered getting myself a meal, but realised I had no appetite for food so instead I sat in a diner, nursing one cup of coffee after another as darkness fell and my phone didn't ring. It was getting to the point where I would have to do one thing or another - either get on the last train back to New York, or take a room for the night. Pretty soon the latter option would be the only one I had and as I continued to sit at the plastic-topped table in a corner, I knew I was staying. He might call later or maybe in the morning after he spent all night thinking about it. I got up at last, paid the check and went looking for a motel, finding one close by belonging to the same chain as the one I'd used in New York. I took a room, stripped off and showered, cursing myself for not bringing an overnight bag and not having the foresight to buy a toothbrush.
I lay in the bed, not sleeping, repeatedly picking up my phone and staring at it, willing it to ring or to beep with a text message, but it remained silent. I continued going over and over in my head the things Paul and I had said to each other, the way he had looked and acted. In every look he had given me, every gesture and every word, I tried to see something positive, but all I could remember was his anger, his clenched fists, the way he told me to leave. He wouldn't want me back, I decided. I had done everything wrong and I had lost him.
Eventually I must have fallen asleep and I woke to daylight on Sunday morning and quickly fumbled for my phone, hopefully checking for a message or missed call and finding none. I didn't move for a couple more hours until hunger finally drove me out of bed. I made use of the bathroom, put yesterday's clothes back on and checked out, heading back to the diner I'd sat in for hours the previous night. Even though my stomach churned with anxiety, I was starving and I ordered a large cooked breakfast, eating every bite while my phone sat on the table, its continued silence almost deafening.
"Please call me," I whispered as I sipped a second cup of coffee.
He didn't call and I left the diner again and headed outside. It was raining, but I barely noticed as I walked towards the station, deciding to head home, although when I got there I simply took a seat and watched everyone else getting on with their day rather than buy a ticket and get on the train which sat there waiting to leave for New York. He may not call me today, I told myself. He had said he needed time and that might be a few days, or a week, or two, but still I hung on, hoping a few more hours would decide him and he would call and say...go to hell.
"Fuck," I muttered under my breath. I leaned forward in my seat, resting my elbows on my knees and my head in one hand, my phone gripped in the other, clicking the screen every so often to check the time as minutes crawled by. It was eleven o'clock and pretty soon I was going to have to leave anyway. The trains were less frequent on Sundays and there was no way I could stay another night.
Another hour passed and then suddenly my phone beeped, startling me so much I almost dropped it. The text was from Sarah, asking if she was going to see me that day. I answered quickly that I was out of town and would see her first thing Monday as always, feeling a touch of guilt over the fact that my heart sank when the message hadn't been from Paul. I changed position on the hard seat for the hundredth time, leaning back and stretching my legs out in front of me, crossing my ankles. I stayed that way for a while longer and then got up and walked around, glancing at other people going about their business, checking the train schedule and noting the last express left at four o'clock. I had three more hours and then I would have to leave. I just wished he would call and put me out of my misery. Even if he told me to fuck off, at least I would know.
It was three-fifteen when I finally received another text message and this time it wasn't Sarah, or Leah, who were usually the only two people who sent me texts. It was Paul.
'Are you still in Boston?'
'Yes, at the train station.' My hands trembled as I typed the reply and I paced up and down, staring at the phone in my hand as I waited for another message. He was going to talk to me? Surely if it was bad news he would have said so, or called and told me I was wasting my time.
'Meet me in the parking lot.'
I shoved the phone into my pocket and raced out of the building, reaching the lot in seconds and standing in the middle. There were few cars there and I glanced at each, knowing that none of them would be Paul's, since I'd only just told him where I was. It was ten minutes before his BMW rolled in off the street and parked up in a corner and I strode towards it. Paul didn't get out and I took this as a sign that I should get in. I pulled open the passenger door slowly and slid into the seat.
"Hey."
"Why did you stay?" he asked, not looking at me.
"I guess I was hoping that you would get in touch with me today. I have to leave at four."
He eyed the clock on the dash, which said three-thirty.
"I almost didn't," he said. "Get in touch. What I really want to do is tell you to fuck off out of my life, but I figured I'd be cutting off my nose to spite my face." He sighed heavily and turned to look at me. Shadows beneath his eyes indicated he had slept about as much as I had. "I was up half the night thinking about things," he confirmed.
"Me too."
"I know why you did what you did; I can't blame you for the situation. I know your daughter has to come first, but you still fucked with me. You made me think we had something; almost told me a couple of times what you felt. Then suddenly it's all too much and you end it."
"I know."
"Don't you think I would have supported you? Waited if you wanted me to? I don't think for one minute you're gonna turn your back on your kid. To be honest, if you did I'd think you were a complete dick. I guess at the time I just thought you couldn't deal with being with a guy and you wanted your life back with your family."
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "It was never about that. Leah doesn't want me back and I don't want to go back to living like that either; I never did. I did love you, Paul. I do love you."
He didn't respond, although his eyes glinted before they lowered from mine.
"You didn't stop me saying it this time," I pointed out.
"Well, maybe I wanted to hear it." He sighed again and leaned away from me, but my heart leapt at his words. He hadn't said that he loved me or even cared for me, not once, but at least he had given me a little hope.
"What now?" I asked.
"I don't know. Obviously I'm not telling you to fuck off, or I'd have done it on the phone."
"That's what I thought...hoped."
Finally he gave me a small smile. "Where do you want to go from here?"
"Um..." What I wanted was for him to grab me so that we could spend the last twenty minutes I had making out, but I knew it was unrealistic. "Maybe we could start from the beginning. Plan a weekend or something where it's just me and you..."
He was nodding and I inwardly heaved a sigh of relief while my heart pounded with excitement. In all honesty, I hadn't expected him to give me another chance. When I turned up at his door and saw the other guy there, I'd been convinced it was too late, but somehow, despite everything, I was finally going to get what I really wanted. Or at least I was getting another opportunity to do it right.
"I'll come back here," I added. "If you want. Unless you want to come to New York and see my new place."
"It won't be for a few weeks, I'm busy for the next two weekends," Paul said and I knew my disappointment must have been obvious. "We'll talk on the phone and decide what we're gonna do."
"Ok."
As much as my heart sank at the thought that it would likely be another three weeks before I could spend any time with him, at least it would be a happy waiting time instead of the hell I'd been going through lately, and that he had obviously gone through as well.
"Paul..." I wasn't sure what I meant to say. I wanted to kiss him, feel his arms around me, but I wasn't so sure he would want that right now. Besides, I hadn't cleaned my teeth in almost thirty-six hours, I thought with a grimace.
"Don't miss your train," he said.
"Yeah. I'm going." I leaned towards him, my face turned to the side and to my relief his arms lifted and slid around me as he returned my hug. "Thank you," I whispered.
"What for?" he asked as I pulled back.
"Giving me a chance." I opened the door and slid out of the car quickly. He didn't say anything else, but I didn't miss his grin before I closed the door again. It was raining harder and I jogged back towards the building, dodging through the open door which was partially blocked by someone trying to get an umbrella to open. I looked back outside just as the BMW pulled out of the lot, tail lights glowing red through the rain. He had given me another chance and the fact that it might be three weeks before I saw him again suddenly didn't matter. He still wanted me and it was everything I could have hoped for.