Natasha

After years of putting on an act, and being who I needed to be, I can finally be myself. The problem is, I no longer know who that is. Am I the woman I was when I first entered the military? The one who wore jeans, and band t-shirts with Vans on her feet? Or am I the femme fatale who’s cultivated the vintage seductress look for years now? Maybe I’m the woman in-between, who wore her uniform like a shield, hiding her curves because she wanted to be taken seriously. Or maybe, just maybe, I’m all of them. Or none of them.

I have plenty of time to contemplate all of this, since I have nothing to do. The bar is closed, and all of the men and women who worked there have been taken into custody. I never cultivated any friendships outside of my work, and although Jake left a message with an open invitation for dinner, I’m not ready to take him and Isa up on it yet.

So, yeah, I’ve spent the last week just lying around, and watching Bravo. I haven’t decided which set of Housewives is my favorite, and I want to slap most of them most of the time, but I can’t seem to change the channel. I wouldn’t say they’re a train wreck—more like just a wreck, and honestly, they kind of fascinate me. Who lives like that? I guess I could, since I have a lot of money saved, but I don’t need a mansion. I might buy a cool car, and a bigger TV, but that’s the extent of luxury for me.

Speaking of purchases, I have something I need to buy. That means putting on actual clothes, and leaving the house. I could have it delivered, the same way I’ve done with my groceries, but becoming a hermit is not what I’m aiming for. I wasn’t ashamed when Haring called me what he did, because I know it’s not true. Hiding out makes it seem like I did something wrong, and while I can admit that I did, I’m not a bad person, and I refuse to live like one.

Since I couldn’t get my old clothes when I was in D.C., I have to settle for the temptress look, although I tone it down by keeping my natural curls, and not putting make-up on. Once I’m at the mall, I decide I should just buy some new clothes too, while I’m already here.

My real credit card is finally seeing the light of day after many years of lying dormant, and I leave with much more than I expected. Jeans, t-shirts, Vans, sexy dresses, designer heels, purses, fun jewelry, and even some new lingerie. There’s also a bag with my new gaming system, and games, which is what I came for. I haven’t gamed in years, but I need to shoot some things right now, and nothing beats Call of Duty. Well, putting a bullet in someone you despise is better, but that’s not currently an option.

Arriving back at my loft, I find Jake leaning against my door. “Surprise.”

“What are you doing here?”

“You haven’t taken my wife and I up on our dinner offer. I came by to make sure you weren’t sitting around in your pajamas, eating ice cream, and shooting things on your TV.”

“If you’d come by a few hours ago, you would’ve nailed the PJs. I ran out of ice cream last night, and I just bought the gaming system,” I tell him, holding up the bag.

“You had to know he’d be hurt,” he says, grabbing most of the bags from my hands as I open the door, and motion him inside.

“Yes, I knew.”

“Yet you’re giving up.”

“There’s nothing to fight for, which would make fighting a pathetic option.”

“There’s always something to fight for when it comes to love.”

“Not everyone is like you and Isa. Or any of the other grand romance tales from C&C.”

“No, not everyone is, but you and Haring are. I saw the way you looked at him, both at the barbeque and in that basement. More importantly, I saw the way he looked at you.”

“It doesn’t matter. Whatever you saw, it doesn’t matter anymore. Just leave it alone, please.”

“Nat.”

“Please, Jake.”

“Come to dinner at least.”

“Let me guess, you invited Haring too, and we’ll accidentally bump into each other.”

“The two of you belong together.”

“Come by for dinner tomorrow. Just you and Isa.”

“Dammit, why are you so stubborn?”

“Because I have to be. I need to protect myself, and shoot some online baddies.”

“We’ll be here tomorrow, and I’ll try to log on later tonight to help you remember what you’re doing.”

I swat at his arm, as we both laugh. “See you then.”

“I love you, you know that.”

“I love you too. Go home to your wife, and your other dinner guest. Have fun, and try not to worry about me.”

“Not going to happen. Never going to happen.”

“Same.”

We hug, and he goes on his way. To dinner with Haring. The man my pride refuses to even allow me to consider. Yeah, I wallowed, but now I’m moving on. I have no choice but to move on. Not if I want to survive, and I didn’t come this far to fall apart.

Haring

Isa’s trying to make small talk with me, but I can tell it’s not her thing. She’s a nice woman, but she’d rather be anywhere but here. There are worse places I could be, so this isn’t bad, but I take pity on her.

“I should probably leave.”

“Jake should be here any minute.”

“Is he alone?”

“Yes.”

“She wouldn’t come with him?”

“No,” she admits, blushing a little. I knew this was a set-up, but I came anyway. I’m not going to try and analyze the reasons why.

“Good. I like you, Isa, and I like Jake, but you need to leave this alone. Natasha and I are over.”

“He wants her to be happy.”

“And that doesn’t bother you? It doesn’t make you jealous, knowing they slept together?”

“No, and no. What Jake did before we met isn’t relevant to our life. My husband worships me, and I, him.”

“Lucky you.”

“I am lucky.”

“We’re both lucky,” Jake says.

I turn, and see the murderous intent on his face. I didn’t hear him come in, so I don’t know how much he heard. Nothing I said was good, so I deserve whatever he’s about to unleash on me.

“I didn’t mean to insult you, or what you have.”

“Yet you did.”

“You tried to manufacture a meeting between two people who don’t want to ever see each other again.”

“Bullshit.”

“You think she wants to see me?”

“I think you want to see her. And yes, I believe she wants to see you, even if she denies it.”

“Too much happened between us.”

“You went through a lot, but nowhere near what Isa and I did. We made it through everything—and everyone—that was against us, and now we’re going to be together forever.”

“Yes, we are,” Isa says, wrapping her arms around him.

His face immediately softens, and his arms engulf her. He was close to pummeling me, but now he’s holding his wife in his arms, and his expression is full of love. Only love. I want that. I had it, but it’s gone now, and I want it back. Just not with Natasha. And yes, I’m lying to myself yet again.

“I appreciate you thinking you could help, but you can’t.”

“Why? Why are the two of you so fucking stubborn? I know you love each other.”

“Love just isn’t enough in this situation.”

“Love is always enough. It just depends on how willing you are to fight for it.”

“Right now, I’m not so willing.”

“And neither is she.”

Those words shouldn’t send a knife through my heart, but they do. I don’t want to want her. I don’t want to love her. I don’t want her to love me. All the lies I keep telling myself, and everyone else.

“Thanks again for the invite, but I’m going to go back to my place now.”

“Take some food with you, at least,” Isa says.

“That, I will do.” I’m never going to turn down a home-cooked meal.

While she packs up some containers for me, Jake starts his own small talk attempt. “Are you going to play tonight?”

“Call of Duty? Maybe.”

“Cool. I’ll look for you.”

I thank Isa for the food, and make my escape. Once I’m back in my apartment, I look around, mentally cataloguing all the changes I need to make. Need, not want. Natasha and I spent too much time here, and when I look around, all I can see is her. The different surfaces I made love to her on, the way she wrapped her arms around me while I made her omelets in the mornings. The coffee maker, because she couldn’t function without at least two cups of coffee. All of it is too much.

Because I love her. I love Natasha, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop. I don’t have it in me to fight for her right now, but one day I might. I went too far, and I’ll have to own that with her, but I can see myself groveling. Again, not right now, but I’m not going to say it’s not happening ever, because I can no longer imagine a world where I won’t love her.

For now, I eat my food, and decide to go online, and shoot some imaginary enemies. Jake is online, like he said he’d be, but he’s playing with someone new. I don’t recognize the name, but I ask to join them. It’s always more fun to play together.

The new player is good, and we continue to play long into the night, and early morning. Even after Jake logs off, we’re playing together. 1BadGuyAtATime and I make plans to play again tomorrow, giving me something to look forward to for the first time in a week. We trash talked each other, encouraged each other, and just had fun. It’s about time I made some new friends who aren’t connected to Matisse, or Natasha.

Logging off when I’m so exhausted I can barely see, I lie down right there on the couch. Sleep has been elusive since I came back from D.C., but tonight it’s coming at me like a freight train. I close my eyes, and let it crash into me, sending me to dreams of a Vixen.