Wrong Pt. 03

Thanks to everyone who has read and to those who sent feedback. And thank you, Rainey, once more—you saved me!

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Wrong Ch. 06: Resolutions

I spotted Chloe immediately when I walked in. She sat nestled in the corner, staring out the window. I could tell she knew I was there by how she tightened up, but she didn't acknowledge me. She looked awful; I could tell she hadn't slept.

I made my way over carefully, almost like she had somehow put grenades underneath the chipped tiles of the coffee shop. If I did manage to stumble on one, I certainly deserved it.

When I made it over safely, I dropped into the seat across from her. A waitress came over and I ordered a coffee, trying to keep my voice quiet. I don't know why. Maybe I felt like if I didn't disturb her too much with my presence she wouldn't yell at me. We wouldn't have to deal with this. It was silly, like a little girl's fantasy.

Chloe finally shifted and reached for the steaming cup in front of her. The waitress brought my own a few seconds later. Then we were alone.

After a few long and tortuous minutes, she looked up at me. "How long?"

The question startled me. Of course it was perhaps the most reasonable one to start off with, but I was surprised. It dawned on me she thought maybe we had begun when they were still married and I was horrified.

"About two weeks," I whispered.

She put more sugar into her coffee and stirred. The sound of the spoon against the mug seemed so loud.

"I guess I figured out who he was fucking, huh?"

"I'm so sorry, Chloe. I didn't mean to hurt you."

She smiled without humor. "You know, I really hate it when people say that. What you mean is I didn't mean for you to find out. Of course you knew it would hurt me, otherwise you wouldn't have snuck around."

I didn't say anything.

"I just keep wondering how you could be so stupid. You saw what happened with me." She took a sip of her coffee and looked me over. "Do you really think you'll be any different? What the hell do you guys do together, besides sex? He'll grow bored of you, if he isn't bored already."

She looked at me with hate and a splash of pity. I wasn't sure which was worse.

I tried to pick up my cup but my hand was shaking. "I can't explain it, but Patrick and I really enjoy each other. I know that's messed up and I know it must hurt you but I can't help how I feel. I don't know what to do. I... I love him."

Chloe's blue eyes sparkled with perverse amusement. "Yes, I'm sure you do. I bet you even think he loves you, too." She took in a shuddering breath. "I heard him say it to you, of course, but Patrick isn't really known for his honesty. Plus, he was inside of you. A guy will say anything when he's fucking some slut."

The words were large knives that Chloe slowly and expertly stabbed inside of me. No one can hurt you quite like a sister can. They know the buttons to press, the insecurities you have, the best weapons to use against you. They understand the sizzling burn of a single word.

I was unsure of what to say or do. I couldn't tell her she was wrong; even I wasn't exactly sure where Patrick and I stood, in spite of everything we'd said and done together. I wanted to defend myself and my burgeoning relationship, but it felt wrong to shout the words at Chloe. She was the injured party here, not me.

"I'm sorry. I don't know how to say how sorry I am. Everything falls short," was the best I could come up with.

I had envisioned all sorts of great and convincing things to tell Chloe. I thought our relationship would recover somehow. Now, sitting across from her with nothing but coffee between us, I wasn't sure.

"I wish I could feel sorry for you," Chloe bit out. She started to cry. "You're going to have a rude awakening sometime soon, Nina. And you won't have your family to fall back on. You'll have no one. You'll be totally alone." She grabbed her bag and stood up.

She threw a couple of dollar bills on the table and gazed down at me for a moment. I looked up at her, forcing myself to meet her glare, and studied her face. It was the face of the sister who waited for me at the bus stop every morning and afternoon. She was the sister who kicked Tommy Parker in the balls for calling me ugly in the 7th grade. She was the sister I shared so many laughs with over the years, who let me borrow her favorite dresses, who understood me for all the times crappy boyfriends and screwy friends didn't.

"Was it worth it?" she asked quietly.

Then she spun on her heel and disappeared out the door. At a loss, I sipped my coffee. It had gone cold.

****************************************************************************************

When I got back to my apartment, I felt my cell vibrate. The display said Mom.

I didn't want to answer it. I was depressed, alone and terrified. I just knew this time Chloe had told her, that my secret was fully out. I didn't know how she would react. Mom and Dad both disliked Patrick. Mom told me once he gave her the creeps; he was "scheming" and "calculating". Yes, he was definitely all those things, but he never had the chance to show her the good parts of him. The wonderful parts that shocked me every time he let me see them, no matter how familiar they'd become.

"Hi, Mom."

I heard her take a deep breath. "Nina. Your sister was just here. What the hell is going on?"

"I've been..." The words got trapped in my throat. I swallowed and tried again. "I've been seeing Patrick. It's been going on for two weeks or so. I didn't know how to tell her, and she found out before I could." My voice was flat, devoid of feeling.

"Jesus," Mom whispered. "I thought you hated him."

"Me too."

"Chloe is so upset." Mom made a sound of disapproval. "Did you have to go after her ex-husband?" My father said something in the background that was thankfully muffled.

"I didn't plan to, Mom. It just happened."

She sighed. "Nothing just happens." She said something to my dad and then came back to me. "Honestly, what the hell am I supposed to do? How could you put me in this situation? I'm in the middle of my two children." She was silent for a minute. I couldn't think of anything to say. Then she groaned. "And how could you put yourself in this kind of situation? He's not a good guy, Nina. You can't possibly think this is going to work. He's screwing around, trying to hurt you both. Can't you see that? Not to mention, I think your relationship with your sister is going to suffer for a long time. Her face... God, I can't get over it. I can't."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what to say."

"Well, how are you going to fix it?"

Someone knocked on my door. I looked through the peephole and saw Patrick standing on the other side, holding a take-out bag and looking tired.

"What do you suggest I do?" I let Patrick in and gave him a small smile.

He scanned me up and down, almost like he expected me to be covered in bruises.

"Well, for one thing, you have to get rid of Patrick. Don't you think that's obvious? I don't know what you were thinking about. That man is trouble on many levels. I don't like him and I don't want him around you, not to mention what it's doing to your sister."

Patrick's gaze lingered on my face and his features scrunched together in concern. He put his palm on my cheek. For the first time in my life, in spite of everything, I felt completely cared for by someone. Adored. Loved.

"Mom, I have to go. I'll call you when we've all calmed down a bit."

"Don't you dare hang up! Nina!"

I pressed "end". It didn't feel good, but nothing would at that moment. Patrick took another long look at me and whatever was in my face made him wrap his arms around me. For the millionth time since this all began, I couldn't believe I was seeking comfort from someone who was once my arch-nemesis.

"I love you, you know," he said a few minutes later. He kissed my hair and stepped back, meeting my eyes.

"I know." And I did.

What I didn't know was if it would always be enough.

He smiled and got us two plates, putting food on them. He brought them out to the living room and I followed, watching as he put on a game show. We sat there together, not really paying attention to the TV or even to the delicious food in front of us.

I thought for a long time in that darkened living room, my shoulder against Patrick's. I loved Patrick and he loved me. Maybe it wouldn't always be rainbows and unicorns and pixie dust. In fact, it wasn't even that now. The point was you never really know if loving one another is always going to be enough. It was enough right then, in that moment, laughing with our mouths full at someone's stupid answer.

Yes, I decided, kissing his eyebrow. It was enough right now. That's all that mattered.

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A week later I was organizing my messy apartment. At the back of my closet, I found a pair of sexy heels Chloe bought me for my last birthday. I hadn't ever worn them; I never really had an occasion. I slipped them on while cleaning, feeling a bit more glamorous. And a little sad.

We still hadn't spoken. I didn't know what to do. Since our last meeting went so poorly, it didn't make sense to ask her to meet with me again. An e-mail felt insufficient. I rambled whenever I left her voicemails, hardly getting to the point. Text messages were totally out of the question.

I called her every now and then, leaving her a trivial voicemail about how I ran into someone we used to go to school with, or about a sale going on at her favorite store. I wanted to show her how much I missed her, how important she was to me. I hoped to remind her the same about me, but who knew if that was true anymore.

My mom sent me an e-mail, telling me she missed me and she didn't want to be involved in the fight with Chloe. She said she was disappointed in my actions and that it was going to take a long time for her and Dad to get over it. She suggested it would be best if I didn't come over for Sunday dinner. I thought it best, too. I was also sure Chloe would be over the house, and I didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

We made a step towards reconciliation, but I knew things would never be the same. It would take a time for my mother to accept I was serious about being with Patrick, and that Patrick was serious about me.

I heard my apartment door unlock and open. I smiled. I gave Patrick a key to my apartment a few days before. It was stupid to have him knock every time he came over, which was a lot.

Long, warm arms wrapped around my waist. "Nice heels."

I grinned but then thought about how they were a present from Chloe. "Thanks," I said softly, moving out of his hold. I yanked them off and tossed them back into the closet, ignoring Patrick's curious eyes.

It seemed it was going to take a while for me to get over it, too.

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Later that week I went down to the corner store to buy some eggs and milk. I had run out of the essentials but didn't feel like going to the supermarket.

I stood on the long line, sighing impatiently. Then I swore I caught a glimpse of my sister entering the store. I got off line impulsively and followed her to the back. I was sure I was just being crazy, just missing her.

She went down one of those dead-end aisles and a weird fear prickled the back of my neck, like she'd brought me there to kill me or something. I was being ridiculous, and told myself I'd watched one too many horror movies.

"Chloe?"

She turned around and it really was her. I was shocked; this wasn't her neighborhood. She had also cut her hair into a short and lovely bob. She looked wonderful, even if she wasn't smiling.

"You look great," I said. An older man pushed by me and I dropped a box of cereal from my basket.

She leant down and picked it up, placing it back on top. "Thank you, so do you."

My heart warmed up. She was lying; I was wearing sweats and I didn't have any makeup on, but the fact she was trying gave me hope.

We were quiet for a moment. Chloe was eyeing the filled shelves, and I was staring at her. She wasn't even uncomfortable. She always could hold her own in the most difficult situations, while I just went to pieces.

I couldn't endure the silence anymore.

"I know it's only been two weeks since I saw you, but I miss you." I said it in a rush without thinking. I shut my mouth after and knew I'd probably scared her off. Here she was, right in front of me, not running away and being pleasant. I ruined it by referring to the delicate subject.

Chloe surprised me by smiling. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I got your messages."

"Do you think—could we get a drink together sometime? Something like that?"

She grabbed something off the shelf but I was too nervous to pay attention to what it was. Then she looked at me. It was such a sad look, almost sympathetic, like she was sorry for me.

"No. No, I don't think we can."

The warmth fled from my sinking heart. "Oh. I understand."

She shifted on her heels and peeked at her cell. "I have to run."

"Chloe. I'm sorry. I love you."

Her face softened. "I know."

"I didn't mean to hurt you." Tears filled my eyes. "Really."

"Bye, Nina." She walked over and kissed my cheek.

Then she was gone, leaving me under the harsh florescent lights in an aisle that went nowhere.

**********************************************

Patrick asked me to come up for lunch the next day. I went into his office, a little nervous to be seen by his partners in the firm, and especially his secretary, Karen. She was friends with Chloe and probably knew about the whole thing.

Karen sat at a big desk in front of his office, clicking at her computer. She looked up and smiled at me when I walked over. It was all very professional. She was professional. And mature. I wished I could be so grown up.

"Hi, he said he'd be out in a minute. Can I get you coffee or anything?"

"No, thank you." I sat nervously on the couch, waiting for her to pounce on me or fling angry accusations.

Nothing happened. Patrick came calmly out of his office a few minutes later, Karen wished us a good lunch, and we were out in the afternoon sun without incident. I promptly burst into tears.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Patrick asked, pulling me over to the side.

I shrugged. I didn't know, exactly. "I can't deal with all of your, whatever. Your friends and coworkers. Not that I've really met any of them."

Patrick's head tilted and he sighed. "Okay, so you're upset I didn't introduce you to anyone? I have to get back for a meeting and—"

"No, no, it's not that. I just mean that they all must know who I am, or if they don't... Well, they will, won't they? It's just embarrassing. What are they going to think of me?"

Patrick's eyes squinted at me. "I don't know... Who gives a fuck?"

"I do!" I cried loudly. People paid us no mind as they walked by, but I felt foolish. "I do," I said again in a quieter voice. "It just makes me look bad."

"Nina. You have to grow up. Yeah, it's not particularly flattering but you have to remember you're going to offend people almost every day of your life. You take too long on line, someone's fucking offended. You get a promotion, someone's offended. You forget to send a birthday card, forget it. The end of the world."

A little smile flitted across my face.

He ran a hand through his delicious hair, glinting in the golden afternoon light. "You chose this. This is the course you're on. With me. There's no going back. You need to decide right now, this very minute, if you want to continue. You know the risks, the drawbacks of this situation. You have to decide if it's enough, and then you have to stick with it. No more internal debates or doubts or whatever the hell goes on in that head of yours. Be confident with whatever you decide and people will respond to that." He kissed my knuckles and then pinned me with a serious stare. "What will it be? Do you want to be with me?"

"I'm sorry," I said, pulling my hand from his. His face fell. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed his lips. Against them, I said, "I choose you. Always. No more second thoughts. I don't care about anyone else. Or I'll—at least I'll try not to care."

His hand traced my face. He took a heavy breath.

"Let's ditch lunch," he said.

I laughed, letting him pull me along.

Later that night, Patrick was watching something on my TV. My cat was on his lap and the both of them looked so content—so at home—that I nearly cried over it.

But then I decided I'd done enough of crying, of second-guessing, of holding Patrick back with an unsure hand. He was right earlier in the day; I had to grow up. Patrick wasn't some guy I was just "seeing". He was my boyfriend. I felt things for him I'd never, ever felt for anyone else.

I walked over and picked Rufus up, putting him on the floor. He meowed with displeasure and then scurried off.

Patrick looked up at me with amused confusion. "What'd you do that for? We were getting in some bro time."

"Ew, never say that again."

I sat on his lap and kissed his neck.

"Ah, now I see where this is going. You were overwhelmed by my beauty as I watched television and selfishly decided to have your way with me."

I laughed into his neck. "Patrick, stop talking." He opened his mouth to say something else but he quickly shut up when I ran my tongue up his throat. When I reached his lips, I pressed my own against them and shoved my tongue into his mouth. He moaned and finally moved, threading his fingers into my hair.

I pulled away and smiled.

Patrick panted, watching me. "What the hell was that for?"

I straddled him, loving the predatory look in his eyes as I lifted my skirt and slipped my panties down as far as I could. "Just because."

His hands ran up my thighs and reached around to clutch my bare ass. "Just because?"

"I love you." I leaned over to kiss him again. I could feel his cock pushing insistently against my hip.

I readjusted and took him in my hand, sliding him through my wetness for a moment before sinking down onto him. He groaned and rested his head back. He watched me move with hooded eyes.

"You were right," I whispered. "I need to be mature about this. Grown up. No more indecision." I thumped down against him heavily, letting him push deeper inside of me. "I wasn't expecting this. You. I was totally blind-sided. And my sister... It got all fucked up. But I know I love you, and I don't want to be away from you. I want to be good for you." My breath sped up and I was having a hard time speaking, but I felt it needed to be said. "I want to be the strong woman by your side. And you make me strong. I don't care what people will say. Even my family. This is my life and I love you."

Patrick lifted his hips to thrust into me. "Only you," he grunted, "would have a serious conversation during sex."

I grinned. "Love me or leave me, Patrick."

"Shut up and fuck me," he said with a big smile.

And I did. When we came, it was together—with our eyes locked and our arms around each other.

Chapter 7: An Ending, A Beginning

I dragged Patrick through the snow, clutching his gloved hand with my own. We were going to be late.

"Are you sure we really have to be there?" he called from behind me.

"Patrick!" A snowflake caught on my eyelash and I rubbed it away, likely smearing my mascara and eyeliner everywhere. "You are such a fucking devil."