"Let's go all the way tonight. No regrets, just love."
And now, at last, we come to the end.
¤
Later, they lay on their sides facing one another, a small space in between them. James reached over and took her hand, loosely entwining their fingers.
“I remember you,” Mae murmured. She felt boneless, languid. Everything-the room, the sheets, him-seemed like a dream. “You were the man who found me in the closet.”
He didn’t think she remembered; they’d never spoken about it before, and he wondered why she was thinking about it now. “I was,” he agreed, his thumb moving slightly against the back of her hand.
“You never said anything about it.”
“Neither did you.”
“I didn’t remember it until after we met at the party, after that it never seemed like a good time to bring it up.” She’d never brought it up because she was afraid that he still thought of her as that little girl hiding upstairs in the closet. Better not to know and still dream. She looked at their conjoined hands, fascinated by the sight; even now, his hand still dwarfed her own. “But I thought about it.” She looked back to his face, “I still think about it.”
“Is this it?” she asked. “Is this how it ends?”
“I don’t know.”
It wasn’t the answer that she wanted from him. She wanted him to tell her no, that they were going to work hard to fix everything that had gone wrong. She wanted him to tell her that he was going to fight for them, for her.
“Would you have slept with him?” he asked. “If given the opportunity, would you have slept with him that night?”
She shook her head. “No.”
He didn’t say anything, but she knew that he wanted more of an answer than that.
“I was lonely, and I thought that physical contact would make it better. Maybe a kiss would make me stop wanting you. And that was a stupid idea, I know, but I thought it would help, I really did. But it didn’t. I didn’t want just anyone, James. I wanted-I want-you.”
He smiled slightly, though there was little humor to it. “You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true. James, I…” She raised herself up a little, all of her weight resting on her elbow. “I love you, James. I do, I really do, and I… I don’t want it to end like this. I don’t want it to end at all,” she said and her voice cracked with desperation. “I love you.”
“Hmmm.” He seemed content to stay exactly as he was, looking up at her. Her short hair was in disarray, face flushed from their love-making and streaks of make-up on her cheeks from crying; she looked awful, but here she was telling him that she loved him, and she was beautiful. “I didn’t marry you because I thought I was doing your father some sort of favor,” he said after a moment, “and it certainly didn’t have anything to do with a business merger.”
Her free hand went to the necklace that was still around her throat, lightly stroking the diamonds; she remembered the note that had come with the necklace, how she felt when she read the words Mrs. Townsend. She waited for him to continue.
“It’s stupid,” he said, and Mae felt like she’d been punched, like she was going to be sick, like someone was suffocating her all at the same time. She whimpered, a pathetic, strangled sound, and looked down at the sheets.
James realized what he’d said and hurried on, “I didn’t mean it like that, I meant… I meant it was stupid how quickly I fell in love with you.” He waited until she lifted her gaze to look at him before he continued. “You hear about it in stories and see it in movies. People have a chance meeting and suddenly they’re in love; but that’s not the way the world works. I always thought it was just fantasy, some silly little notion that seems pretty on paper, but can’t survive in the real world. And then I met you, and suddenly you were all I thought about, and I felt ridiculous.” He shook his head and scoffed. “I expected it to go away in a few days, but the next time I saw you it only got worse.”
Mae opened her mouth, but the only thing that came out was a small sob. However, her expression was one of amazement, and James decided that the sob was a good thing.
“I married you because I loved you, because I enjoyed spending time with you. Because I never laughed as much with anyone else as I did with you. I was happy with you, and I thought that there might be a chance that we could be happy together,” he admitted.
“And do you still?”
“Do I still what?”
“Do you still love me; do you still think that we could be happy together?”
He sat up a little at that, squeezed her hand tightly. “I do love you, Mae; if anything, I love you more now than I did then-if you’ll pardon the clichéd sentiment.” She laughed slightly at that, gave him a small smile. “And I certainly hope we can be happy together,” he continued, “because it’s been awful without you.”
“It’s been awful without you, too,” she confessed. “Practically unbearable; I hate fighting with you, James.”
He smiled. “I know what you mean. I don’t like being angry with you, I don’t like being away from you. I like being here, with you, just like this.” She made a face then, looked away, and he frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just…” She fisted her free hand in the sheets; if she opened her mouth now, she could potentially ruin everything. He was here next to her, telling her that he loved her, and that should have been enough. She looked back up at him. “It’s just that we haven’t been this way for a long time, James, and I don’t understand why that is. Is it something that I did? Did I do something wrong?”
“What? No, no why would you even think that?” He raised his free hand to her face, trying to wipe away the make-up and the drying tear tracks. She didn’t say anything, but he already knew. He looked down at their conjoined hands before looking back up at her. “Does it ever bother you that I’m so much older than you? That one day I’m going to be old and gray and you’ll still be young?”
“What are you…?”
“In five years, I’m going to be forty and I suspect that I’ll be graying by then. You won’t even be thirty; you’ll still be young and fresh. Don’t tell me that won’t bother you. And really, what do we have in common anyway?” Mae looked like she was going to cry again and his hand cupped her cheek. “I just don’t want you to end up bitter.”
“You don’t want me to be Cecile,” she murmured and suddenly everything started to fall into place.
“She was around your age when she married Benjamin, and back then she was happy in her marriage. But they never really had anything in common, and the only thing keeping them together is appearances.”
“I’m not Cecile,” she whispered. “The difference between us is that she never loved Benjamin, not really. Because if she did, it wouldn’t have mattered to her what his age was.” She sat up, wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. “I don’t care how old you are. I never cared about how old you were; the only thing that mattered to me was you. It’s all that has ever mattered to me.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded. “Yeah.” He wrapped his arms around her in return, gripping her tightly, and she smiled widely. “And when you’re forty and graying, you’ll be the most distinguished man in New York City. And I’ll be luckiest woman because I’ll have you,” she promised.
James kissed her then, his lips on hers almost before the words were out of her mouth. Then he lay back down, pulling her down to him so that she was resting against his chest and she could hear his heart hammering, thudding against his ribcage. “So where does that leave us?” she asked.
He glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. “Well, if we hurry, we could be at Emma’s party with just enough time to mingle for an hour or so.”
He felt rather than heard her groan, and he laughed. “That wasn’t what I meant,” she groused. “I mean, what happens to us now?”
“I don’t really know.” He didn’t seem too bothered by it though, running his fingers through her hair.
“Do you think…do you think we could just start over?”
He smiled into her hair. “That sounds nice.”
Starting over might not be the perfect solution, nor would it be easy, but things were going to be different. They cared-loved-one another, and this time they both knew it. And that was enough for Mae.
“I missed this. This bed is just too big for one person,” she admitted. She relished in the feeling of his skin against hers, in the familiar scent of Old Spice.
“The settee in the study wasn’t exactly built for sleeping on long term,” he agreed. “And it gets very cold at night without you curled up next to me.” He could feel her smile in response.
“I thought you once told me that I was the biggest bed-hog you had ever met.”
“You still are, I’ve just grown very accustomed to you invading my personal space when I’m sleeping. Besides, I don’t like sleeping alone.”
“I don’t like sleeping alone, either.”
Mae sat near a window at Shanghai Pavilion, idly drumming her fingers on the table and watching people as they past by outside. It was late afternoon, early evening so the dinner rush hadn’t started just yet, and it had been fairly quiet when Mae had first arrived but the buzz of the restaurant was growing louder as more people came in.
She already ordered drinks for the two of them, and she was starting worry that by the time James arrived his tea would be watered down. “You’re late,” she murmured, looking at her watch.
“I know, and I’m sorry about that. One of the board members called just as I was about to leave with a last-minute question about the new budget proposal, and traffic was absolutely awful.”
She started, turning to look at the man behind her. Seeing that it was James, she glared. “What did we say about sneaking up behind me?”
James laughed, “Yes, sorry about that. In my defense, you were speaking to me.”
“Correction: I was speaking about you, not to you; there’s a difference.”
“Well, thank goodness I brought these,” he said, handing her a small bouquet of lilies, “Maybe these will put you in a better mood.”
The effect was instantaneous; her glare was quickly replaced by a wide smile. “Oh, James,” she breathed, “they’re lovely.” She ran her fingers lightly over the petals. “You didn’t have to,” she said, turning her attention back to him.
“I wanted to.”
“Well, thank you,” she said, and stood up to give him a light kiss on the lips. “I love them.”
He smiled. “I’m glad. So, how was your day?”
“It was fine,” she said as they both sat down. “Didn’t really do too much. Laid in bed for a while after you left, and then Roxy called so we went shopping for Cara’s bridal shower.”
“What did you get her?”
“Oh, we didn’t buy anything for her; we were shopping for what to wear to the bridal shower. I already bought her present two weeks ago.”
“I see, and what did you end up buying? Is this new?” He gestured to her dress, a sleeveless white, black, and purple color-blocked dress with a low backline.
She nodded. “Yeah. I saw it in the window and I couldn’t pass it up. Besides, it goes great with my open-toed slingbacks, don’t you think?” Mae pushed back her chair and lifted her left leg so that James could fully appreciate her shoes.
“Perfect,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at her shoes. “You look beautiful, that dress really suits you.”
“You think?”
“Absolutely. So this is what you decided to wear to Cara’s shower?”
“No, that dress is at home, but it’s cute too. It’s this little off the shoulder Diane von Furstenberg floral frock-pinks, blues, purples, yellows. Absolutely adorable. I bought some pink wedges that will go perfectly with it. I’ll try it on for you when you get home. Oh, and Emma Peterson called today.”
James glanced up from his menu. “Did she really? You know, she called the office yesterday.”
“Oh? How did that go?”
“Alicia managed to convince her that I was in a meeting, and in return I promised Alicia a very nice bonus for her troubles.” He lay the menu down on the table. “How much longer do you think we can avoid Emma?”
Mae wrinkled her nose, lips quirking to the side as she considered. “Maybe we should join the Witness Protection Agency.”
“No good. She has spies everywhere.” James leaned across the table and said in a hushed voice, “I think even the waitress is on her side.”
She couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across her face; back before Erik, back before Cecile and Benjamin, the two of them had played this game, had the same silly conversations. Things were getting back on track.
“So, what does this mean for us? Are we in danger? Should we leave while her attention is on the table in the corner?” Mae likewise leaned across the table, grasping his hands tightly, whispering fervently.
“No, we can’t leave. Not until I order pork dumplings.”
“We’ll get them to go then-along with some sesame chicken. Because it’s delicious.”
“Naturally,” James agreed.
“And some spring rolls.”
“Yes. Spring rolls, too.”
“And then when our food arrives, we’ll dash out the door and drive off into the sunset, safely eluding Emma and her spies.”
James nodded his head, smiling. “Only, I think there’s a small flaw in your plan.”
“What’s that?”
He kicked her lightly under the table. “You wore the wrong shoes.”
Mae looked under the table at her feet. “What’s wrong with my open-toed slingbacks?”
“Well, under normal circumstances nothing, and you look lovely in them,” he assured, “but darling, they are the worst possible type of shoe to wear when you’re on the run.
“I can carry them,” Mae said resolutely.
“I’ll carry you.”
She smiled and gave his hands a firm squeeze before releasing them. “How romantic.”
James leaned back in his seat, his smile widening into a boyish grin. “I try.” He took a sip of his ice tea. “What do you think the waitress would do if we asked for to-go boxes and suddenly dashed out the door as soon as our food arrived?”
“Depends on the tip we leave.”
“So, what did Emma say when she called?”
“I didn’t pick up. I was just getting out of the shower and when I heard her voice on the answering machine, there was no way in hell I was going to pick up. You know, she’s really too nosy for her own good.” She twisted her engagement and wedding rings around the finger on her left hand-both were back in their proper place. The morning after, James had slipped out of bed to retrieve them from where they had landed on the floor. He’d made a big show of slipping them back on her finger over breakfast, saying that as long as she wanted those rings on her finger, he would be there. Admittedly, it was a little-overly, majorly-cliché, but James had been sincere about it, and it was the sort of thing that Mae needed to hear.
“You know what she let slip though?”
“That the waitress really is one of her spies?”
She laughed. “No, but I think it’s just as interesting. According to Emma, Erik wasn’t at the party either. Apparently, he was in Los Angeles getting some work done on his nose.” She looked pointedly at James. “Now why, I wonder, would a man as handsome as Erik want work done on his nose? Hmm?”
“I didn’t hit him that hard.” Despite his defensive tone, James’s smirk was telling.
“We’re just lucky that he didn’t sue,” Mae said. She tried to sound admonishing, but her smile ruined the effect. “I sort of wish I had been there to see it.”
“It was wonderful, let me tell you. Very satisfying.”
“I’ll bet. I’ve always thought that hitting Erik would be a very satisfying experience.” Truth be told, she was a little jealous of James; she’d always wanted to punch Erik. “Did he cry?”
James snorted, “No.” At Mae’s rather put-out face, he added, “Well, not that I saw. He may have cried once I left; I didn’t exactly stick around after I punched him.”
“May have?”
“He probably cried like a little girl as soon as I left,” he amended and Mae grinned.
“So, I was thinking,” she began, “that you should order in Mandarin.”
He raised an eyebrow, “Weren’t you the one who told me that servers get upset when non-native speakers try to speak the language? Didn’t you mention something about them being annoyed? And besides that, Mae, I think that our waitress is going to be the blonde haired, blue eyed woman with the New Jersey accent.” He gestured to the woman who was taking orders at the table next to them.
“I was only suggesting because I wanted to see you put your Mandarin to good use. I remember all those long hours you spent, night after night, trying to learn just a couple of phrases that would put the representatives at Jiang An at ease. It would be a real shame if you had wasted all that time-time that could have been better spent curled up next to your stunningly gorgeous wife-” she winked, gestured to her face and smiled adoringly, “and you only got to use it once.”
“As practical as that sounds, I don’t really remember much,” he admitted. “Just a couple of polite phrases and nothing that has to do with food.” James shrugged, smiled sheepishly, “Mandarin is one of those languages that you have to practice to really get a firm grasp on and to be honest, I gave up. It was just too stressful to try to learn a foreign language on top of trying to close a business deal.”
“Oh,” she said, but she didn’t sound too surprised by his answer and James had a sneaking suspicion that Mae had known his answer all along. She shrugged and smiled, “That’s all right. I took four years of French in school-not too mention that tutor I had when I was younger-and really the only things I can say are bonjour, au revoir, merci beaucoup, and voulez-vous coucher avec moi.”
“Really? That’s all you know how to say?”
“No, I’m fluent in French, I was just trying to make you feel better,” she said with a cheeky grin.
“Thanks for that,” he said flatly.
“You know you love me,” she laughed.
“I do,” he agreed, and it was the warmth in his tone that let her know he was serious.
The way he was looking at her made her smile and duck her head in embarrassment. “Well, you’d better love me because I happen to love you too. A lot.”
-FIN