Sentient

Sentient: Chapter Fifteen

I wake up alone, finding an empty carpeted floor by my bed. The makings of Mr. Cavanaugh’s make-shift bed is folded on the window couch. Maybe he already left. I don’t know why but thinking about that creates a huge sinkhole in my heart.

I quickly get ready for the day before going down for breakfast. If there’s one thing I miss here at home, it’s the food. We always have amazing food—especially breakfast. Having a family business in the food industry has its perks.

As I approach the kitchen, I hear laughter of different voices. I’m certain one of them is Mr. Cavanaugh’s. And just as I suspected, there he is sitting by my Mom with a cup of coffee in his hand, wearing Keno’s clothes. The grey shirt he wore to bed last night underneath a blue plaid shirt and denim pants.

“There she is!” Mr. Cavanaugh announces as soon as he spots me in my pajama glory.

I’m suddenly afraid to join them.

Nope, I’m not joining them.

I’ll stay right here, far away from them.

“Cool guy,” I heard a voice whisper to my ear from behind me. I look back to see Keno holding a mug in his hand.

“Keno!” I cry.

My mood immediately lightens up as I wrap my arms around Keno’s neck. He’s actually the one I’m fond of in my family all because he’s cool like my Dad and less intrusive than my Mom and Patty. But I think his little sister bringing home a guy for the first time will probably solicit a chock-full of questions.

“When did you get in?” I ask him.

He purses his lips before responding, “Uh this morning. Kendra had a very important meeting last night so we decided to skip the party.”

“Ooh, how did Patty take it?”

“Let’s just say you need to speak a little louder from now on cause I can’t hear anything in my right ear.”

“Well, at least you’re here.” I laugh and proceed to walk towards Mr. Cavanaugh’s direction. I immediately notice his empty mug so I get it to replenish.

As soon as I hand him his mug back, Patty notices my gesture and muses, “Awwe, that’s so sweet.”

I look flatly at her as I sit beside Mr. Cavanaugh and say, “What? I just refilled his coffee.”

“It’s like you already know what he needs even before he says it. I never thought I’d see you like this, Charlie.” She replies, scrunching her nose up a little. “You know, being this sweet to someone. You’re so hostile most of the time.”

“Actually,” Mr. Cavanaugh interjects, “She can be the most thoughtful and sweetest person in the world. She really takes care of me like nobody ever has.”

I scoff internally.

Yeah, right. That’s because I’m your assistant.

Patty has a foolish expression on her face. “Darren was just about to tell us how you two met, Charlie.”

“Oh really?” I ask with an amused expression on my face as I turn to look at Mr. Cavanaugh. “I’d love to hear this story.”

“Actually,” Mr. Cavanaugh starts, “You tell this one better.”

I give Mr. Cavanaugh a tremendously plastic smile. “Do I, now?”

He wags his eyebrows at me and places a hand on my arm, sending tingles all across my body. “Come on, don’t make them wait.”

“We met at a gay bar.” I quickly blurt out, without even realizing my words. All I know is that I’m still fazed by the touch of his hand on my skin.

The smile in Mr. Cavanaugh’s lips instantly fades and a sense of victory washes over me.

Haha, this is what you get Mr. Cavanaugh!

Remember, Charlie, he’s still your boss. So take it down a notch. You might suddenly find yourself unemployed after this.

I look across the kitchen counter and find shocked faces scattered before me. Keno on one end snickers, covering his lips with the back of his hand.

“I thought he was gay, actually.” I continue to make up a story. “He was so properly dressed. He even has the pocket square thing going on. Then I found out that—”

“That I was there with my gay friend, who was currently undergoing an awful breakup.” Mr. Cavanaugh interjects, “I took him out to help take his mind off of things. We’ve been best friends since we were kids so he was really important to me.”

Then everybody’s faces wash with realization and understanding, nodding their own ahh’s simultaneously.

Wow, that’s smart. Now, he‘s sensitive and thoughtful. Nice comeback there, Mr. Cavanaugh.

“And then… there was this really drunk guy who was trying to hit on me incessantly regardless of how many times I rejected him.” I continue the story, “Mr. Ca—”

I pause for a moment.

I sense Mr. Cavanaugh goes rigid beside me.

Stupid.

Don’t call him Mr. Cavanaugh in front of your family, stupid.

Stop calling yourself stupid, stupid.

Okay, beautiful. You can recover from this.

“Mr. Courageous here,” I say, pointing my thumb to the man beside me, “Stepped in and knocked the lights out of the cretin… like a biker in a shady beer house.”

“More like a knight in shining armor,” Mr. Cavanaugh dispels.

“I didn’t give him my number then,” I continue, disregarding his alteration in my story. “But when I was coming home from work the night after that, he was waiting for me outside my building—”

“All ready to take her out to dinner in this very discreet yet romantic place in the city.” He interjects once again. His face turns into a dreamy one as he continues, looking at a distance as if he’s actually trying to remember the memory. “She was incredibly nervous during that date. It was completely evident. She does this thing where she nibbles on her lower lip when she’s tense or uncomfortable. I don’t know, she could be tremendously cute whenever she is. I don’t think she even realizes she does it. She’s exceptionally smart, graceful, talented, and truly amazing.”

He pauses and looks at me, smiling wistfully. Where the hell is he getting this story?

“I knew then and there, I should never let this woman go. I can never let this woman go. She only deserves the best. And I would die before I give her anything less.”

I stare at him as he tells his story. His words are so beautiful that even I want to believe it’s true. Men no longer talk like this. Like they’re so in love with a woman and they’re bound to give him everything they can. But what do I know? I’ve never met many men to show me something like this.

I could only hope they’re real.

But they’re not. None of this is. And it strikes a great deal of pressure against my heart. For a moment, it was beautiful. But then reality washes over and I’m shaken up to the tragedy of it all.

Those words come from something—something only being in love can bring. How can a woman not fall in love with this perfect species of a human being?

“Wow,” Patty gasps, gawking at Mr. Cavanaugh. I take a look around the marble counter and witness everyone having the same reaction. They, too, are mesmerized by the words and genuineness of his feelings.

Except they’re not. Genuine, that is.

Or perhaps they are.

But they’re definitely not for me.