“And maybe he hasn’t!” a familiar voice said beside me. A figure seated himself in the empty seat to my right.
I stared at Travis. He had a mischievous grin on his face.
“Travis!” I felt embarrassed about what he had just heard. “I didn’t…” I started taking back what I had said.
“Please do,” he said. I stopped and stared back at him. “Please mean what you said.”
“Wha-what are you doing here? It’s your stag party,” I said.
“It was. But somehow I couldn’t get you out of my head. And I realized I had to come and find you. I wanted to see you, hear you laugh, more than I wanted to sit there with a bunch of immature guys cheering on half-naked girls!”
I was deeply touched by what he’d said to me. I smiled. And I couldn’t help it. I lunged myself forward and I kissed him hard on the lips. Then I hugged him. He hugged me back.
“And here you are, drinking your brains out!” he said, laughing.
I stared up at him. “Take me to my room, Travis.”
He stared back at me, studying my expression. “I should. You can barely walk.”
He motioned for the bartender to get him the bill.
“I’ll pay for it,” I insisted, trying to reach for my bag. But Travis was already handing the guy his credit card.
I rested my head on his shoulder while he signed the credit card slip. I saw that he had just paid four hundred twenty-eight dollars and fifty cents for all the liquor that Sarah and I had consumed.
“I’ll pay you back,” I told him.
“Nonsense,” he said. “Consider it my treat to you and Sarah.”
“I got drunk too soon,” I said, looking at the clock. “It’s only one-twenty in the morning.”
Travis put an arm around me and kissed my forehead as we walked back to my room.
At the door, I pulled him with me and stared at him naughtily.
He was grinning at me. “You, my love, are bold and brazen—you might not have this much courage when you’re sober.”
“Probably not!” I laughed. “But that would work to your advantage, wouldn’t it?”
He laughed as he pushed me to sit on the bed. He bent down to take the sandals off my feet.
“No,” he said. “I prefer that you be sober when I make love to you.”
“But didn’t you tell me you’d give me everything I wanted, Travis Cross?”
“I also promised to protect you from the beast inside me, remember?”
I stared at him. “Travis…” I said. Something about my voice made him stop to look at me. “I’m glad you weren’t with the stripper tonight.”
He smiled, bent forward, and gave me a gentle kiss on the lips.
“Do you really mean it? Were you really thinking about me?” I asked him.
He took a deep breath. “It seems I’ve been thinking about you every waking hour!” he groaned softly.
I smiled triumphantly. “Kiss me, Travis. Kiss me.”
He smiled and then gently he bent down and kissed me thoroughly…passionately. I pulled him toward the bed with me. He gently eased me up against the mattresses. He kissed the base of my neck, and I moaned softly. I wrapped my arms around his neck, igniting more of the passion inside me.
Then suddenly, he stopped. He smiled at me wearily. “Brianne…I have to stop.”
“Don’t stop, Travis!” I said, pulling him to me again.
“Brianne… I’m close to the edge! I may not be able to control myself after this!”
I groaned. “I’m sick and tired of you always controlling yourself, Travis! Always such a gentleman! I want you!”
There! I said it to him straight. I was drunk out of my wits, but that could also be the reason why I didn’t feel ashamed of admitting to him how much I wanted him. He was the only one who’d ever made me feel like this. And right then, I was so tired of pretending I didn’t feel anything for him…I was done watering this fire inside me that only he could ignite.
“Brianne…” he whispered.
I pulled him to me again and kissed him passionately.
“Dammit, Brianne!”
“The great Travis Cross has a weakness after all,” I teased.
He stared down at me and then in a sober voice, he said, “You must know that my only weakness has always been you.” And he kissed me again, giving in to the tide of passion enveloping both of us.
The next scene of our lovemaking was something I had already seen before. I had already had this dream before. Those vivid dreams of making love to Travis…reaching Nirvana with him.
“I love you, Travis!” I screamed, tears rolling down cheeks as I realized how I really felt about this man. At that moment, I truly let go. I was honest for once in my life.
Exhausted and happy, I felt him slip out of me. He held me for a while, and then I felt him drape the sheets over me to keep me warm. I was looking at the clock beside me with a smile on my face.
It was now two-thirty in the morning. I blinked once, twice. The clock still gave me the same vivid reading.
Finally…it dawned on me. In dreams, you don’t have a sense of time. But now, I could read my digital clock well, and the number registered in my mind perfectly. That night that came back to me just now…it wasn’t a dream…it was a memory.
I remembered him disappearing after that night. And the night before our wedding, he came to my room. I knew when he knocked on my door that he wanted to tell me something. That was it. He’d attempted to come clean before he married me…maybe he’d chickened out once he saw me and decided not to.
On our honeymoon, I remember him saying…
“My life. The reason why I live. The core of my existence…
There’s one person I could live and die for…and I wanted to freeze that moment for eternity…because she screamed my name… she truly belonged to me…
It’s too late when you realize your world revolves around one person…I thought it was my body craving hers, but that last time I was with her, I realized it was my heart screaming out for her…
She was the air that I breathed…I would go to hell and back for her…I would give everything just to see that look on her face again…
She told me she loved me…”
In a way, Travis had already told me what happened that night. But since I couldn’t remember it, I’d thought he was talking about somebody else. I remembered that when I heard him say those words, my heart had broken for him. Because I’d felt how in love he’d been…and how painful it was for him not to express what he truly felt. He felt guilty about taking me…even though I was actually the one who seduced him. He was right. He didn’t mean to take advantage of me. I asked him to make love to me…begged him to let go of his control. And he did…
Oh God! What have I done?
I said some nasty words to Travis. I called him a liar. I told him that he’d taken advantage of me. That he’d raped me! How insulted he must have been! No wonder he didn’t want to talk to me anymore.
He didn’t tell me because he was such a gentleman. He couldn’t tell me that I was the one who’d seduced him. I was the one who had begged him to go to bed. He wouldn’t allow me to feel ashamed of myself. Instead, he let me fling insult after insult at him.
I had told him that he’d taken advantage of me while I was unconscious. I may have been drunk now, but I was very much aware of everything around me. I was not asleep now. Just like that night. When I dreamt of making love to Travis, I was…wide awake.
***
Sarah was in my apartment the next day. I was painting. What I was painting, I wasn’t sure. But it was something abstract again. Just a swirl of hues and colors that reflected most of the turmoil I felt inside. All black, blue, and indigo.
“So you’re telling me you were the one who orchestrated everything?” Sarah asked.
I nodded sadly. “Pretty much.”
“Why didn’t he tell you?”
I shrugged. “Because he was such a gentlem
an, he didn’t want to tell me that I invited him to bed and begged him to have sex with me. He didn’t want to humiliate me.”
I wished Travis hadn’t felt like he had to protect me all the time. Even from my own feelings. I wished I had trusted him enough to know that he always meant well for me and would never take advantage of me if things weren’t beyond his control. I wished he’d trusted me enough to tell me what happened and to know that my love for him would make me believe him and understand the pain he’d been through all these years.
“What are you going to do now?”
“Nothing,” I said sadly. “There’s nothing I can do now. He wouldn’t even speak to me. I tried calling him…he just won’t pick up. The last time I spoke to him, we were saying our goodbyes.”
“This is Travis, Brianne!”
“I know. And that makes it even worse. Because I couldn’t imagine my Travis staying away from me like that…no matter how bad the situation was. But he was right. It was my fault. It was probably the first time after my brother’s death that he bared his soul to another human being, and I accused him of many things. I called him a rapist. A beast! The gentleman he is, it would be far too insulting for him to be called those things. For everything that he’s done to protect me almost all of my life, it would be lowering to be called a monster.”
I put the brush down. I started organizing my paints and canvases. I opened the cabinet where I usually tucked away my finished canvases. When I was with Christian, he didn’t like my paintings to be scattered all over the place. We bought a huge cabinet to hide away all my paintings. It’d been a while since I opened this. I realized I had at least ten finished paintings in here.
Sarah took one painting. It was another abstract.
“I don’t really get it, but I like this. This is really, really good.”
I stared at the painting she was holding. “I call this a rose.”
She drew her brows together and looked at the painting closely. Then her face brightened. “There it is! There’s really a rose here somewhere!” She looked at me. “You’re really, really good!”
I looked at some more of my old paintings. There were loose papers and sketchbooks in the cabinet that I’d organized as well. I saw a rolled parchment tied with a black ribbon hidden in the farthest corner of the cabinet. I didn’t remember this one. I turned it over and saw a red marking at the back of it.
“A+. Good luck, Mr. Cross.”
I realized it was Mr. Atkins’s handwriting. I remembered this now. This was Travis’s artwork for Mr. Atkins. He’d asked me to hand it over to Travis when he didn’t attend our class. I guessed I’d completely forgotten to give it to him.
I pulled off the ribbon and rolled over the canvas. It was painted in black and white. It took me a moment to realize what I was staring at.
“Is that you?” Sarah asked from behind me.
It was a face of a girl, her hair flowing over her face. But her eyes were clear, and her smile was bright. It was no mistake—it was me.
Tears welled up in my eyes.
“Yes. This is me. When I was a teenager.”
“You painted it?”
“Travis did,” I said in a broken voice. “Our art teacher asked us to paint…the…meaning of our lives.”
Sarah didn’t say anything for a while. I felt her put an arm around my shoulder and give me a gentle squeeze.
“He loved you…even when you were younger. You two…go very deep, and all the way back,” Sarah said. “Have you really given up on him?”
I realized that many people in Travis’s life had given up on him too easily. His parents thought having a kid was complicated and not good for their careers. They gave him up without trying hard to fit him into their lives. Instead, they kept him with nurses, nannies and kept him well-provided for without giving him the love he deserved. Because it was easier than trying to make their family work…easier than loving their son.
I got mad at him, and I made him feel I gave him up because of what he’d done…without even knowing that it was my fault in the first place.
Travis tried to unmask himself and to keep himself unprotected from me, only to get hurt again. He exposed his emotions and exposed himself to pain. It was easy enough for him to go back to being cold and ruthless once more. When I talked to him the last time, it didn’t mean he didn’t love me anymore. It only meant he’d put all his masks back on again to prevent himself from getting hurt.
The Travis who painted that portrait had me at the center of his life. He wouldn’t give me up too easily…if only I could show him that I had not given up on him, either. If I could show him that I was sorry for all the things that I’d said…and that I’d forgiven him, too. That I was willing to start over.
I looked up at Sarah, a new ray of hope surging through me.
“I’m going to see him,” I said. “I’m going to give it one more try, Sarah.”
She smiled brightly and said, “That’s the most sensible thing you’ve said in months, sugar!”
***
I sat in Travis’s office, waiting for him. I was wearing a floral skirt and a white sleeveless top. I wanted to look good for him. I was hoping he still found me attractive enough to make him stop long enough to listen to what I had to say.
One hour.
Two hours.
Three hours.
I felt a tap on my cheek. I must have fallen asleep. I immediately straightened up on the couch and looked up. But it wasn’t Travis. It was Karl. He was smiling at me apologetically.
“Where is he?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “He’s not coming,” he said. “He had this important meeting with his father. He had to fly to Dallas immediately. I’m sorry.”
I smiled at Karl. I tried so hard to hold back my tears.
“Thanks, Karl. Could you tell him that I was here?”
He nodded.
“Will he be back tomorrow?”
“Maybe. In the evening,” he replied.
I stayed with my mother in Manhattan. I was determined to see Travis. I knew it was not going to be easy. But I believed in what he’d told me. That he loved me. I still clung on to that and hoped it was true…it still is true.
I came back the next day. Karl was kind enough to let me sit in Travis’s office again. He hadn’t come back from Dallas yet, but when he did, Karl believed he would go to the office immediately.
I fiddled with my engagement and my wedding rings anxiously. I wondered if I still had the right to wear the engagement ring. It was his grandmother’s.
Well, aren’t you here to confirm that you still can? I thought to myself.
Karl approached me.
“Is he coming?”
He shook his head apologetically. “I’m afraid that he’s been held back in Dallas. He may not return until tomorrow.”
I smiled sadly. “Thank you, Karl.”
I left Travis’s office with a heavy heart. And yet, I smiled. I would keep trying. This was me. I was still his wife!
My mother didn’t ask me what I was doing, and I was glad. Instead, she talked to me about the prospect of showcasing my paintings.
“You were born to do this. You’re amazing! I want you to open your art to the public,” she said.
I nodded. “That would be good. But I don’t want to do it solo, Mom. Can you get some work of other artists? Some famous ones, and then I’ll showcase mine in the same show.”
She nodded. “That can be arranged.” She smiled at me and then she gave me a hug. “You’re a wonderful woman, Brianne. Never forget that.”
I tried my best to smile at her. “Thanks, Mom.”
Travis didn’t want to see me. I knew because I tried every day after that, and still he made no effort to show up to his office because he knew I was there.
I went back to Connecticut in defeat. The pain in my heart was like nothing I had felt before. I was hurt when I thought Travis had betrayed me. The pain I felt now was ten times greater whe
never I thought he did not want to see me anymore.
“Give him a bit of time,” Eric told me one time. “He’ll come around.”
But I didn’t know how much time I needed to give Travis. I tried calling him. His phone was either turned off or he wasn’t picking up.
I kept myself busy with the gallery in Connecticut. My mother flew in and stayed with me for several weeks to sort out the exhibition we were going to launch. It would be my birthday celebration. I thought, with so much pain, that it was going to be my first birthday without Travis in my life. And a few months back, I thought it was going to be the first one I’d celebrate with him as my husband. It could also have been the first birthday that I would celebrate holding our little angel in my arms. It could have been the best birthday of my life. It could have been the happiest day ever.
But everything was upside down. My baby was gone even before I could tell him I loved him. My husband had caved in…and given up on me. And I was celebrating my birthday heartbroken about losing the two most important people in my life.
I found an article in a business magazine. It was about Cross Industries and how close it was to acquiring Cross Magnates. Travis was on fire. He was concentrating so much on his battles with his father. I guess he was more heartless than he had ever been before.
I stared at the picture of him. His face was cold. Ruthless. He was handsome as hell, but his face left no trace of boyishness or mischief anymore. The picture I was looking at was that of a devil not even trying to disguise himself as an angel.
He had his fingers intertwined in front of him. I realized with so much sadness that he was no longer wearing his wedding ring…our wedding ring. And I guessed that told me a lot of things because I was still wearing mine…including my engagement ring.
Sarah and Eric helped me a lot with my upcoming art show. We chose which paintings of mine would be showcased. I had to polish some of my work to make it really good for commercial viewing.
Somehow, Sarah and Eric were now civil to each other. They didn’t try to bite each other’s heads off or make nasty remarks to each other. God! I knew that relationship had no future. But still, I was curious about what had happened between them.