My hand stiffens around the beer bottle I am holding; the stress of all the business meetings I have been having this week have tightened up my muscles. I can’t wait to release some stress. Bringing the beer to my lips, I feel a pat on my back as someone takes the stool next to mine.
“So this is where you have been hiding, hermanito?” Nicolas asks as he motions to the bartender for a drink. I lift mine up so he can bring us back two.
“Yep.” I take the last swing and turn to him. “I didn’t know setting up my own firm was going to be as hard as this. There are permits and licenses everywhere I turn. Aye, hermano. Tell me again why I ever thought this was better than traveling the world,” I unloaded.
“Well, I think you said that you were tired of not having a home and that you wanted to build something on your own instead of helping others build their empire,” he answers as he takes a swing of his beer.
“So why are you here? Did you have something to talk about? Because even though I enjoy your company, I know you are not here to babysit me,” I question since he hardly ever drinks on a workday.
“A patient brought me here,” he responds. I can see the worry on his face, which surprises me because Nicolas is always so sure of everything he does and says.
“Is my brother losing his magical touch?” I joke.
“Funny. I have been working with this woman for the past eight months on and off; I have not been able to help her to move on with her grief. But the other day in one of our sessions, she actually spoke after two months of complete silence and she revealed that she wasn’t capable of suicide like we all originally thought. When we all thought that pushing her into staying at the center would save her, we were giving her the escape that she was looking for,” he sighs.
“That’s why you are the smart one, hermano.”
“All this time we, her family and I, thought that hospitalization would be the key to save her, but we been safeguarding her. We are keeping her locked up and not letting her deal with the loss. The center has been her bubble of denial. When I talked to her about her leaving, I saw what I knew already her fear of moving on,” he finishing taking a long gulp of his beer.
“Nicolas all you have to do is to send her on her way and thank God that she didn’t kill herself on your watch.” I take the last drag of my beer and stand up.
“Your sympathy is duly noted, Matias.”
“Ready to go, muñeca?” I tell the blonde to my left, the Spanish pet name for doll flowing out of my lips smoothly. Her mouth opens in a small gasp as she hears it. I know that she has been hanging out beside me just for this opportunity.
I don’t even let her speak as I grab her elbow and steer her outside. I am ready to lose myself on the best body of art possible, the human form.
The drive home is silent and fast. Before I know it, I have her pushed up against the wall in my living room, panting for my cock. Clothes litter from the front door to the wall. She unwraps her legs from my waist, slamming me against the wall. She deepens the kiss and pulls my bottom lip with her teeth before she sinks to the floor, taking my hard dick in her hands moving them up and down.
“Fuck,” is all I can manage as I feel her wet lips on my shaft, her tongue licking the crease. “Fuck,” I growl again. Grabbing her head, feeling how my cock slides in and out. I hear her gag a little, bring her up from her hair, and I take her mouth in mine again. I speed walk backwards to the bedroom and slam my cock into her awaiting warmth.
I knocked out before I could even learn her name.
I FEEL A hot body close to mine and I wake up, pushing it off. I hate to spoon, it makes me start sweating and in turn, uncomfortable.
“Good morning,” comes out of her mouth, the mouth that sucked me dry in the wee hours. I turn back towards her from pulling up my shorts. She has bed hair and dark circles under her eyes from her makeup. Yeah, not a very sexy look.
“Look, I have to take a shower since I have a meeting…”
“You don’t have one until ten,” she interrupts me.
“I don’t have one what?” My confusion is apparent.
“A meeting.”
“And how would you know that?” If this bitch went through my things, I will definitely call the cops. I have had girls make copies of my keys and have entered my home without my knowledge. There was this one time in Prague that I was tired of sleeping around and decided to go out on dates with this one girl. After three dates, I came home to her in my home cooking dinner and washing my clothes when I never gave her key, or told her where I lived. So yeah, I get suspicious when girls know more about my life than what I’ve told them.
“I’m your new PA.” My brow furrows deeper. “Seriously, I was with you all day yesterday taking notes.”
“You inform me now, after we fucked!” I grate out through my teeth, trying to keep my anger at bay. But just seeing her continuing to relax on my bed has me sizzling.
“What is the harm? I enjoyed it and so did you. We are both adults.” She gets on her knees and crawls closer to edge of the bed. “Beside we can work and play together.” She pouts as she comes to stand in front of me naked. She tries to kiss me but I move out of her grasp.
“Get your sh-stuff and leave. I can’t have you here if you work for me. This is bad at so many levels. You should have said something on the ride here.”
“You didn’t give me a chance. I thought you would remember me anyway, since you called me doll again,” she says in a hiss as she starts picking up her clothes walking to the restroom. Running my hand over my face, I decide I am royally screwed. I just have to make sure that it never happens again. I have to pay more attention to my staff. Maybe I should just employ males.
I walk to my dresser and take money out of my wallet.
“Here’s for the cab...” I give it her as she comes back into the room, putting on her shoes. I look at her because I really can’t remember her name.
“Jesus! Jennifer!” she inputs as she snatches the money from my hands. Walking out of the room, I hear the front door slam. Well that went well. I walk to the bathroom to get ready for another day of hellish documents and permits. And now without a personal assistant. My mother will be so mad mostly since she helped me hire her.
I DON’T WANT to leave.
I don’t want to go back to the outside world where there is no Will. I am not ready to face everything again. It’s too soon; eight months is not enough time to mourn. I’m scared of going out there and having his memory fade away. Time moves faster when you are living in it. So many changes are happening too fast. My parents put our house up for sale, well my house now. At first, I was mad that my mother decided to make that decision without consulting me but I’m glad since I can’t go on living there without Will. I don’t even know how I made it for six months before my breakdown. Those walls help house my memories; they prevent me from forgetting his laugh, his smell and his voice.
“Sophia, do you have all your stuff packed?” Katia asks as she comes into my room.
“Yes. I think so.” It’s not like I brought much. Just some clothes and our wedding picture.
“Sophia, I know this is hard on you, but you have me girl. I will not let you down. I will always be here for you. Remember, you are the cup to my cake,” she says, rubbing my back as I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder.
“I know.” I don’t even smile; it was more like a grimace.
“Knock, knock. Are you ready to go?” Dr. Duarte says from the door. No, I am not. He shakes Katia’s hand and walks towards me. It has been two weeks since I opened up to him during our session, and that he started with his plans for I like to to call: Operation Get Sophia Out. My counseling sessions went from two hours a day to four hours a day to have more time with a counselor, more one-on-one sessions. Group session continued as always, with everyone sharing but me.
“Packed ready, yes. Emotionally ready, no. But you are kicking me out so yeah I guess I am,” I tell him, making my way towards the door.
“This is hard for me Sophia, so I know it is harder for you, but we need to make sure you take steps to re-integrate yourself back into society. We can’t keep protecting you. You have a life to live and a career that is waiting for you at home. I will always be a phone call away and you still have to see me once a week at my office downtown.” I look at him and walk out of the room, Katia rushing out to catch me.
“You were rude Sophia,” she reprimands me as she laces her arm through mine, making our way down the hall towards the parking lot. I had signed all of my paperwork this morning right after breakfast. The group had given me going away cards and awkward hugs, since I was never an active part of the group.
Katia pushes open the door and I feel the sunlight on my skin for the first time in weeks. I can feel the warmth sinking through my clothes trying to defrost my cold heart. I pull my sweater closer around me and walk faster towards the car. Katia opens the doors and I rush to put my things on the back seat and get inside the car. She gets behind the wheel and turning on the car she grabs my hand, squeezing it.
“It will be okay, Sophia.” I don’t know if she was reassuring me or herself. She takes off for home.
We get to the place where I have lived the happiest days of my life to date. Katia and my parents packed all my stuff so it could be ready for the movers tomorrow. They thought me living with Katia in a different location would be best for now. She was able to secure an apartment in one of the best buildings downtown called The Tower. We have half a floor to ourselves. It’s kind of like a duplex; each floor has two apartments.
“You don’t have to go in, Sophia. Everything is packed. Nothing was left behind.” I turn to her, finally giving her a half smile. I know she is doing this for me. The moving must be an adjustment for her too. She is the best of friends. Who else would up-root their lives for someone else?
“It’s okay I just need a moment.” I take a big breath, trying to build the courage to walk inside.
I get out of the car and I walk the sidewalk that we walked hand-in-hand that first day, eager and excited at having our first home. He carried me over the threshold and we made love on the empty living room floor. I open the door, and the nostalgia hits me like a freight train. The emotions keep bombarding my heart. The tears start, tearing a sob from by chest as I slide down the wall in the entry-way.
How can I move on, Will?