Promise Me, page 8
I don't think I've ever felt so many eyes on me at one time. I should say, on us. As Tyler and I walk back into the ballroom with our hands still locked together, I see necks craning and conversations come to an abrupt halt to stare at us like something out of a movie. I turn my head to check behind me to make sure there's no one of extreme importance there before Tyler squeezes my hand to bring my attention back to him. He smiles at my misunderstanding before he starts to pull me forward. For not having seen him in all this time, and in fact only really spending all of one hour with him in my entire life, there is a no question in my mind that I am more than comfortable as he leads me back into the reunion.
He lets go of my hand when we reach the bar and I immediately miss the feeling. Not just the physical touch of him, but the warmth behind it as well. Being this close to him again after all this time is intoxicating and I find myself wanting to curl up into him like a cat. And as foreign as this feeling is to me, it actually feels comforting, like coming home. I take a brief moment to enjoy it, this feeling that I've been longing for, by noticing how absolutely beautiful he is… just as I remember, only better. Even in my four inch heels he's much taller than me when I look up at his face again and he locks his eyes onto mine. He bends slightly and asks, "What were you drinking?"
"Pinot Grigio, thank you."
While he leans on the bar with his right arm and orders our drinks, I stare at the tattoo that's been in my mind's eye for what feels like an eternity. I try to follow the familiar black swirls but they disappear under his sleeve. I wonder how far up the swirls go exactly and if at all possible how I could go about finding this out. He twists slightly to hand me my wine glass and catches me staring at the design. I try darting my eyes back up to his quickly but I know I'm busted. Instead of calling me out on it he motions to my left to a table that is currently unoccupied in the far corner of the ballroom.
On our walk over to the table I notice a few women openly gawking at him, husband or no husband, date or no date, but he doesn't seem to notice it. If he does, he doesn't let it show as his attention is completely focused on me. He pulls out my chair and I thank him before I carefully attempt to cross my legs in my dress without giving him a free show. We sit in silence for a moment, taking each other in while we take sips of our beverages. After taking a pull off his beer, he places it on the table and turns his chair so that we are more directly facing each other. Finally, I lean forward and say what's been in the back of my mind since he appeared in the gazebo.
"I didn't think you'd be coming tonight."
Curse you, alcohol. I make a mental note to slow it down on the truth serum and try to regain control of the situation before I start telling him all kinds of things. My hand nervously goes up to tuck a stray hair behind my ear, but he beats me to it. The motion takes all of a second or two, but it feels like time is standing still when he takes the hair and carefully tucks it behind my ear for me. He pulls his hand back, smiles and says, "You always used to do that when you were nervous."
I'm trying my best to keep it together and look cool, calm and collected after him telling me this. Miraculously, my other hand is still holding the wine glass gracefully. How I manage to do that, I have no idea since my nerves have just ratcheted up a notch by his admission. I tip back the glass to my lips and try to keep up the appearance without downing it in one gulp, which is exactly what I really want to do right now. I mean, how does he even know that? Julia calls me out on it all the time, but I live with her. I've been with him all of fifteen minutes and he has to go and say something to throw me totally off guard. I can tell he's enjoying himself but it's not in a malicious way since I'm not put off by it. I'm honestly more intrigued. So, instead of backing down, I attempt to steer the conversation towards the now.
"So... what have you been doing the past ten years?"
"Well, as soon as we finished school I left town and moved to Philadelphia. I had a few jobs here and there but they were just enough to make ends meet." He pauses and takes another sip of his beer while I put my drink down for good, patting myself on the back for remembering to bag the drinking around him for a bit.
"A buddy I met in Philly eventually hooked me up with a job cooking in a restaurant."
"Cooking," I say more than ask. "That was the last thing I expected you to say."
He chuckles casually and asks, "What did you expect to hear?"
"I don't know, to be honest," I confess, now slightly embarrassed. I have thought about him so many times but the actual thought of what he could possibly be doing was more along the lines of "bad ass extraordinaire", not cooking in a restaurant.
He puts down his beer and leans towards me more so that his elbows are resting on his knees before he continues. "To be fair, I didn't really know I had it in me either. Turns out, I love it."
"That's great," I say, genuinely happy for him. "Cooking has never been one of my strong suits. Maybe you can give me a few pointers."
"I'd be more than happy to," he answers with a hint of flirtation in his voice as he leans back in his chair. He takes another sip of beer before he asks, "And what have you been doing for the last ten years?"
"Kind of like you, I left right after graduation and went away to college in Miami."
"Is it really as hot as they say it is down there?" He asks.
I have to laugh a little at his question before I answer. "Let me put it to you this way, when I boarded my plane a few days ago, it was a pleasant 95 degrees in the shade."
He laughs at my answer before he says, "I take it you loved it enough that you decided to stay there after college."
"Yeah," I say with a smile, "I do kind of love it, heat and humidity included."
"I've never been there… now I have a reason to visit." We both let that hang in the air between us until he prompts me to tell him what I do for a living.
"Well, right after college I was lucky enough to get accepted into an art internship program in Italy. I stayed there just shy of a couple of years and then, even luckier still, got my foot in the door at an art gallery down in South Beach. I've been there for a few years now and I was recently promoted to Gallery Assistant and…,"
"And what," he says pulling the beer bottle and inch from his waiting full lips that I can't seem to tear my eyes away from.
"Oh, nothing really," I muster trying to recover from being caught staring again. "I was just going to say that I love working there."
Wanting to know more about him, I ask, "So, do you still live in Philadelphia?"
"I do." He hesitates and looks down at my toes that are peeking out of my shoes then grins before bringing his eyes back to mine. "I own a restaurant there."
He owns a restaurant? I'm processing this information in my head and all I can come up with is not only how incredibly sexy that is but it's super impressive too. Now I have a million more questions to ask him at the same time I detect that the DJ is saying something about slowing things up. The music goes from upbeat Top 40 variety to the opening bars of Lady Antebellum's "Just a Kiss."
Tyler stands up slowly then holds out his hand to me and says, "Dance with me." It's not a question. My eyes dart from his face to his outstretched hand and back up again. Whatever questions I had are forgotten since the look of longing in his eyes is all the push I need to make me put my hand lightly in his again, stand up, and let him lead me onto the dance floor.
He wraps his right arm around my waist possessively as my left hand rests atop his shoulder. He takes his free hand to pull my other hand in it so it's resting on his upper chest and begins to lead me into a slow seductive sway to the music. His thumb makes lazy circles on the exposed skin on my back and I smile at the intimacy of the gesture. When he smiles back this time I feel more at ease and relax into him completely. My forehead rests just below his jaw line and I feel his lips just barely making contact with it. I close my eyes as we continue to move together, mentally savoring every second of this moment: His strong arms around me. His delicious cologne that I can easily overdose on. His ability to make me feel comforted. All of it.
When the song begins its descent, I pull my head back an inch to look up at him again and he tilts his head to kiss me softly on my cheek. Before he pulls away he lightly drags his lips to my ear and says, "I don't want to let you go just yet."
I quiver at his words and want him so badly to drag his lips back so that they're finally touching mine. I can feel his heart racing under my palm that is still on his chest letting me know that he's having the exact thoughts as me when the DJ decides to switch back to an up tempo beat.
"Well, don't you two look cozy?"
Hell no! This crazy Stepford wannabe is not going to ruin this night for me. I try to step back from Tyler's embrace but he keeps one arm on the small of my back. I see that he has a smirk on his face when he turns his head to look at Lisa.
"Sabrina, who would have thought you'd go slumming tonight," she says and waves her hand that is holding a drink in his direction, spilling some on the dance floor in the process. Fantastic. Two drunks for the price of one. This can only get worse when I feel Tyler's body tense up against mine and other people on the dance floor start to stare at the scene unfolding before them.
"Lisa, don't you have anything better to do than harass me and embarrass yourself," I say in a matter of fact tone which catches her completely off guard. She mumbles something about me always thinking I was better than her before she puts on her fake smile again and asks if she can speak to me in private.
"I don't have anything else to say to you," I calmly say then drop my hand from Tyler's chest and leave the dance floor making my way back to our table.
He's following close behind but doesn't say anything when we both sit down again. I can feel his anger radiating off of him at what just happened. I turn my head to look at him and see that his jaw is clenched. I manage to smile at the memory it invokes when I had tried to decipher what it had meant that night years ago and knowing the cause of it right now. I reach out my right hand to touch his jaw, but chicken out at the last second and pull it back to my lap instead.
"I'm sorry," I say to him.
"Why are you sorry?"
I should be honest with him, rather, I feel like I can be completely honest with him and he wouldn't judge me. It's a hunch I've had about him from that very first night and the little time I've spent with him here, now, which I know doesn't seem rational but it makes total sense to me. I take a deep breath, exhale, and let the chips fall where they may.
"I'm pretty sure we were having a moment there and she ruined it." I turn my face down towards the floor afraid of what he could be thinking, hoping I wasn't wrong about him.
He doesn't say anything for what feels like a lifetime. From the corner of my eye, I see his hand come into view to grab hold of my chin and turn it back slowly towards him. "Hey, look at me," he says and I finally bring my eyes to his.
"If you think for one second that I would let anything or anyone ruin my time with you after all these years, you're crazy," he pauses and then adds, "And for the record, it was definitely a moment."
I nod when he lets go of my chin and can tell that he is visibly more relaxed. He asks if I'm alright and if I'd like another drink, to which I say yes. I watch him walk away and find myself grinning at the trail of ogling eyes from every female as he passes them. I'm still staring off in his direction when the chair he had been occupying a short while ago scrapes against the hardwood floor.
I don't need to look to know who it is. She's relentless, this one. I sigh and turn my head back slowly to see Lisa sitting in Tyler's seat. Drink in her hand, check. Phony smile plastered on her face, check.
"Jesus Christ, Lisa, what didn't you understand when I said I had nothing else to say to you."
She crosses her legs and leans back in the chair as if she's planning on staying for a spell and visit with an old friend. Somehow forgetting that this old friend is the one she stabbed in the back and doesn't want anything to do with her. The phony smile smoothes over to reveal sadness in her demeanor while she contemplates what to say next. Before she can say whatever she's thinking of I see a new wine glass being placed in front of me on the table.
"Get up and walk away... now," Tyler says from behind me in a slightly menacing tone.
Now, if I was her, and someone spoke to me like that I'd like to think I can take the hint. But she doesn't move. Instead she keeps her eyes on me and asks one more time, "Sabrina, I really would like to talk you, in private."
I don't know if it's the inflection of sadness in her voice or if I just don't want this scene to play out any further in front of every other fellow 2001 Skippack High School graduate.
"Fine," I bite out.
I reluctantly stand up and as I'm about to pick up my wine glass to bring with me Tyler says, "You don't owe her anything, Sabrina."
"I'll be fine," I say to him and tuck my hair behind my ear.
He grins knowingly and looks over my shoulder at Lisa. "Are you sure?"
I nod, hoping I'm right then turn on my heel and see Lisa impatiently waiting for me a few steps away. When I reach her, I gesture with my free hand towards the front door of the ballroom and say, "By all means, lead the way."
I follow Lisa down the long corridor that leads to the front door of the building, passing quite a few people on the way. She's having trouble walking in a straight line, making a spectacle of herself in the process. When we get outside, she turns right and heads towards the far end of the building, away from any possible onlookers that may be lurking around at the moment. Realizing that we are more than well enough away, I stop. "This is as far as I go."
She turns around and just stares at me for a minute. I take the opportunity to casually sip my wine. This seems to bother her since I can tell she has a look of disdain on her face. Now, I'm just plain pissed off. This girl, woman, whore, whatever the hell she is, has the nerve to be upset with me? I mean, really, she has got to be joking!
"Say what you have to say, so I can go back inside and try to enjoy the rest of my evening," I say as nicely as possible to her in the hopes that she'll finally get on with it.
"To who? Tyler?" She laughs as his name escapes her lips, "Really, you couldn't do any better than that, Sabrina?"
I choke on a small giggle at her attempt at an insult, but inside my head I'm thinking back to all those times when we would sit on my bed like lovesick teenagers and fantasize about him. She used to go on and on about him, so to hear her say this is kind of humorous since I know it's eating her up to see him here with me. Not that I planned it, but she certainly doesn't need to know that.
"You don't show your face for ten years, and then all of a sudden you show up here when I told you to stay away," she says with pure hatred in her voice. She takes a second to run her hands through her hair that looks completely disheveled at this point before she continues, "You always thought you were better than me, better than everyone, better than this town. You just couldn't wait to get out of here!"
"What the hell are you talking about, Lisa?"
She smiles at me then says, "You know Chris always wanted me not you, the perfect Sabrina Chandler. He just never had the balls to tell you. That's why we had to sneak around for so long."
She keeps going but not before her smile morphs into a devious grin, "You have no idea how happy I was that you found out the way you did. I bet you cried like a little bitch."
I've heard enough. My blood is boiling and if I let her speak one more second I cannot be held liable for my actions. I take a step towards her and she takes a step back. I'm not a menacing figure at 5'5", about 5'9" in the heels, but I must look that way to her right now from the flash of fear or is that doubt in her eyes?
"First off, your beloved Chris just told me a few hours ago that he's never loved you, that he still loves me," I say to her and let it in sink in before I go on. "Not that I give a shit, but just thought you'd like to know."
"That's a lie," she says quickly.
I can tell by her tone that she knows this to be true. Hell, anyone within a three mile radius can pick up on the vibe that there is something seriously wrong in that relationship.
"Secondly, who the hell do you think you are to tell me where I can and can't go?" I ask her but don't intend to let her answer. "And what kind of person are you that you would trick a guy into staying with you by getting pregnant?" She gasps out loud not expecting me to have known that piece of information. Her eyes are beginning to water, but I don't care, I keep right on going.
"That's right," I say to her and take a step even closer so that we are inches away from each other, "your husband told me all about that one. Bravo, you must be so proud of yourself."
Ten years of pent up hatred finally out of my system. I thought the weight lifted off of me after telling my parents the truth last night was invigorating, but this… this is so much better. In the back of my mind I think that maybe I should have taken it easy on her, but I instantly throw the idea away. Instead, I think of all these years that she has taken away from me. All these years that I've been lying to my parents. All these years that I couldn't come home to face her, or Chris for that matter. They are nothing to me. If anything, I'm mad at myself for having let it get this far. I am better than her. God knows, I would never stoop to her level to do any of the things she has done to me, herself, or Chris.
"I think we're done here," I say to her evenly, and take a step back to leave as she begins to sob openly.
"You don't understand," she starts to try and explain, but I'm not having it this time. I take a step towards her and cut her off before she can go on with her sob story.
"Lisa, quit with the whole 'woe is me' act, it insults my intelligence," I say to her as she wipes her eyes on the sleeve of her dress.
