Eons Until I Reach You

SURREAL

My tragic truth is that there is no way I can just mistake my past embodied. The one who is supposed to be in San Francisco, all the way across the continent from my life which is as good as residing in another planet in a distant galaxy.

For one fleeting optimistic second, I try my hardest to convince myself I’m wrong. Or better, dreaming.

Reaching me, he holds the umbrella out so that it covers us both but I’m drench, rendering his efforts vain.

His face hasn’t changed after all these years. Diamond shaped, with angular cheekbones and dark eyes- slanting at the corners. He is not lean anymore but sinewy and well-built, in a navy shirt, grey slacks and no coat.

“Uh,” I say and blush, mortified by my inability to handle actual speech. The tone reverberates awkwardly in the air. His lips twist up.

“So I see the rumors are true,” he says with a half grin. His voice is low, and it echoes in the wind. “I heard rain worship was becoming a thing around the Hamptons. Apparently near midnight is the perfect time to do it.”

I gape and don't respond. I must look out of it because he leans forward putting his palm on my forehead. My skin sears where he touches, and I jerk back.

“Jase,” I say his name. It sounds like a mantra, rolling out of my tongue. His gaze turns intent like magnets holding me in place. His face is so near that I can’t see anything else. I shift back and his hand falls away. “Why are you here?”

The smile doesn’t dissolve. “It was nice out. I figured there’s nothing better on a chilly winter night than a drive.” Lightning strikes again as if emphasizing his point. The rain is only drizzling now but the cold bites into my skin, making me shiver.

I roll my eyes. “What exactly are you doing here, Jase?”

“I saw this wet cat on the road and thought I’d stop to check it out.”

I don’t bother looking around. There’s no cat anyway. I scowl, waiting for an explanation. His expression is impossible to read. The rain stops, but the wind keeps blowing my hair all over my face. I shiver again, hugging my arms to my chest. The sweater sticks to my skin.

“I moved back,” he says coolly as if it’s the most natural thing. “You are going to catch a cold in those clothes. Why don’t I drop you at your place?” He motions towards his car. A black Jaguar with a gleaming metal body.

But his statement has left me speechless. “You really moved back?” is all I can manage.

“Yeah.” His voice matches my low tone. “Any problem?”

I freeze at his challenging tone. What am I supposed to say to that? The truth is that the reason he left the Hamptons is because of me. He had vowed once to stay away from me and this place.

Like rewinding my own movie reel, images smother me, and my mind transports me back to the past. To four years ago. I’m in a small office room and I’m feeling claustrophobic. The bright fluorescent lights hurt my eyes. The filthy yellow walls appear constricting. The guy in front of me twists his face in disgust and bile rises in my throat.

“Why are you making these false allegations? You don’t know anything about me!” I’m trying to shout but my voice is lifeless.

How much farther does he want to drag me down to the trenches? What does it take to satisfy him? He is looking at me like he has me exactly where he wants.

He smiles a diplomatic smile. “Confess.”

“There’s nothing to confess. I have never done what you accuse me of.”

“Of course you haven’t.” He turns to my parents. “Your daughter tried to coerce a fellow student into joining her little gang.”

“What??”

I can’t believe it. His lies turn my blood into venom, and I find that I can’t speak anymore. I feel like a rabid dog. Out of control. If it was just me and him, alone in this disgusting room, in this moment, I know I will bludgeon him.

The absurdity of the situation reels my mind in. My thirst for physical violence ebbs as I find solace in the inside of my mind. The last thing I see before I black out is the worry in my Mom’s blanched expression and the utter disappointment in my Dad’s.

***

My eyes flutter open. I find I’m leaning against Jase inside his car, the heater on and aiding to dry out my shirt. There’s concern in his eyes, pointing me to that dreaded conclusion. I must have had a panic attack- my heartbeat is low, my head feels light.

“I’m okay,” I tell him quietly, mentally cursing myself. Why did this have to happen now? Why did Jase have to see me in this pathetic state?

“What’s wrong with you?” He grabs my chin in one hand, examining my face.

“I’m fine,” I lie, trying not to blink. I push away and try the breathing exercise my therapist suggested I try out that involves alternating deep inhales and exhales.

 “Bree.”

“I’m fine. Really,” I repeat, but his eyes narrow in suspicion. “Look, I didn’t sleep properly last night. It’s no big deal.”

“You’re worrying me right now. I’m debating whether I should take you to the hospital or buy you something to eat.”

“You are overreacting,” I insist patiently.

He raises an eyebrow. “I’m taking you for some coffee. You’re freezing and you’ll start convulsing next if we stay like this.”

I search for something to negate his logic and fail. “I’ll have coffee if you answer my questions.” Unbothered, he starts the engine.