FORTY TWO

Lexie

The events of the rest of my life started to blend together because I was focusing so intently on Ryder and what was going on with him. Even though I had brought a pile of legal books with me to Los Angeles, I wasn't doing anything else to prepare for law school even though I was aware that the balance in my savings account was growing larger. I declined Ryder's offer to put me in touch with Laura's company, despite the fact that he had offered to do so previously. The mere knowledge that he was present in the room was sufficient for me, despite the fact that I couldn't even enter his office alongside him. When Angie went to lunch, we would occasionally relax our vigilance for a few minutes here and there.

I was well aware that this was detrimental to my health, but I didn't care. My entire life, I had always been focused on the future. Now that I was completely intoxicated by my current situation, I was unable to muster the strength to look further ahead. This was the first time that I had a fear of it. Not about falling behind in law school because I was confident that I could make up the time, but about being separated from Ryder. Even though it was October, it didn't feel like fall in Los Angeles. When you returned to Ohio, the daytime temperature would already be quite chilly, and clouds would cover the sky. Even though it was always summer where I was, I felt like I should be counting down the days until fall. The previous month had been fantastic, but there were only eight more to go before the year was over. It would be over in a flash, just like senior year had been before.

Afterward...

I was completely at a loss for additional ideas. It was like trying to imagine what it would be like after the world had ended. It was impossible for me to conceive of a conclusion to Ryder's story, just as it was impossible for me to conceive of a universe that never comes to an end. I made an effort not to give any thought to the passage of time, which ought to have been simple to do in a city like Los Angeles.

Ryder sent me a text message with an address after we had a conversation about how we didn't want to be his secret and how we didn't want to keep it from him.

"What exactly is it?" I asked.

"A surprise. Tomorrow night at six o'clock, we'll meet there."

I cocked my head to one side in curiosity, but all he did was smile in response. "Wear heels."

I put on the pair of shoes with the highest heel that I had, the ones that I normally wouldn't wear out to a bar or club because I wasn't sure how long I could stand to be on my feet in them. They made my legs look as long and skinny as a deer's, which gave me the confidence to wear the flirty dress that I had just purchased that had a short hemline. Even though I'd been living in the city for a few months, I didn't feel like I belonged here until I took a good look at myself in the mirror.

When I arrived at the address he gave me, I had the distinct impression that I had walked into the life of another young woman. It appeared to be a hole in the wall from the outside, but once inside, it was similar to the Italian restaurants that Samantha took me to while we were traveling through Italy. Small places like this could be found down winding, cobblestone alleys behind doors that were not clearly marked, and they would have sheets of fresh pasta hanging in the windows.

In the cramped waiting area, Ryder had a cocky grin plastered across his face the entire time. When I first saw him, I couldn't help but feel elated, but I still couldn't stop myself from scanning the dining room for someone I recognized. There was no one to be found. Even though there wasn't a lot of space, the room was designed to have a warm and inviting atmosphere. There was some breathing room between the cramped seating arrangements of small tables and chairs. The room was dim, and the primary sources of illumination were long, white candles and brass chandeliers that had a vintage appearance. It was packed with married couples who could not stop thinking about one another.

It worked out all right.

In one of the room's corners was a round table covered in a white tablecloth, where all of us took seats. Big rolls of wax were already running down the side of the taper and pooling on the brass holder before it was even lit. Ryder's eyes lit up with joy as he thought about it and looked over at me. "Giardo is the rightful owner of this. My preference for it exceeds that of any other location in the city. For a very long time, I've been intending to bring you to this location."

"I'm glad you did." As I looked into his eyes, a smile gradually spread across my face. I was only dimly aware of the words that were being spoken out loud to one another. Something could be heard humming in the background of the words. Even though I hadn't even taken a sip of the deep, purplish-red claret that was decanting at the edge of the table, I already felt intoxicated by the place, and even more so by the man.

Ryder was recognized by name by the waiter who brought him a basket of fresh, hot bread with crisp edges and a soft, sunken center. The waiter inquired as to whether or not Ryder would like his usual. After that, he gave me a knowing wink and remarked, "Finally, he brings a lady."

It made me laugh. "That goes down easy."

He appeared to be perplexed and raised his eyebrows.

"What are you?"

"The line—it certainly seems to be a line, doesn't it?" I looked at Ryder. "I'm not–"

He had a face that was indecipherable and impenetrable.

"You are."

I found myself staring at him after the server had left the table. You've never brought anyone here before, despite the fact that this is your favorite place in the whole city, right?

It was easy to see his broad shoulders moving. "I had never desired to do that before."

The light that had begun to shine within me the moment I stepped inside increased in intensity and filled me to the brim with a glowing, golden warmth. My heart was racing, and the words "I love you" were on the verge of escaping my mouth. I fought the urge to put them back in my mouth. Repressing something that was day by day proving itself to be more and more accurate did not feel natural. But I couldn't take that chance. If I were to tell you that I love you, it would create a boundary between us that neither of us would be able to determine whether or not we should cross.

Instead, I attempted to maintain a light tone throughout. I gave him a playful ribbing while rubbing the pointed toe of my heel against the inside of his leg and saying, "I guess you could say that I'm your first."

His eyes became more cloudy, just as I had anticipated they would, and his body involuntarily leaned closer to mine. Foreplay tasted like a delicious, exquisite, and excruciatingly drawn-out experience at Giardo's for dinner. It was a spot where one could linger. During the first hour, we dipped the bread in a rich, peppery olive oil and drank wine instead of placing our orders. We didn't start placing our orders until it was almost 8:30. When the main courses were served, we took our time eating them, taking turns biting into each other's dishes and passing the bites back and forth until the plates were clean. But Ryder insisted that we get the tiramisu even though I didn't think there was any way I could possibly eat dessert. It was almost eleven o'clock by the time we finished the last bite of our meal and drank our after-dinner digestive, which was a colorless liqueur that tasted like black licorice.

Ryder and I walked hand in hand to his car feeling emboldened by the fact that we were able to get away with having dinner together in public. We drove his car back to his house, leaving mine parked in the lot, and we didn't even have to talk about going back to his house. There was no longer any reason to travel back to my home. Dinner had changed us. Although it was possible that it would only last for the night, I had the impression that this profoundness, this connection, would continue. We didn't even bother waiting for the elevator to take us up to his penthouse before we started making out with each other.

We were kissing, touching, and pulling each other into a deeper and closer relationship than we had ever been before. Who knows what we might have gotten up to in that ornate compartment if the ride had been much longer. It's possible that I should have let go of my inhibitions and confessed my love for him. That appeared to be doable at this point for some unknown reason. In any case, it is less severe than a sentence of execution.

We were able to separate ourselves in time for the elevator doors to open, but when they did, our hands were still limply clasped and we were still standing so closely together that our arms touched. We entered his private lobby feeling hazy from the wine and the lust we had been drinking.

And became still.

In one of the nooks there was a pair of shoes that had been kicked off. Low-top tennis shoes in white with double-knotted laces that have become frayed and grayed over the course of extensive use. The kind of shoes Samantha always wore when she was walking around campus.

I was stunned into silence as the reality of my situation hit me like a Mack truck. Samantha. The three-day weekend. Which day was it exactly? The time when she was supposed to arrive here was–

Thursday had arrived. Due to the fact that she did not have any classes scheduled for Friday, she left right after her afternoon one. She arrived at LAX at six o'clock, which was precisely the time that I was entering Giardo's.

I had avoided looking at my phone the entire night. There were probably a dozen missed calls and messages from people concerned about my whereabouts.

"Oh, my God," I muttered to myself.

Ryder's face had turned completely white. the whitest those shoes had ever been in their history. He removed his hand from mine as if it had caught on fire. Instantaneously, a chasm appeared to open up between us.

"Dad, do I recognize you?" The sound of Samantha's voice could be heard coming from the kitchen. There was only a brief window of opportunity before she rounded the bend and saw us.

I found myself involuntarily making my way back into the elevator. Before the doors closed, I had just enough time to catch a glimpse of Ryder's eyes, which were wild and dark. I desperately pressed the Lobby button, petrified that the doors would suddenly slide back open for no apparent reason, and Samantha would suddenly see me. If she did this, there is no way that this could be hidden. My hair was a mess because I had been on the ride up, and I was wearing fuck me heels that she had never seen me wear before.

If the ascent had been a ride to heaven, then the descent was a ride to hell. As soon as the relief of escaping began to wear off, a horrible feeling of shame replaced it.

What was I thinking when I tried to escape the man I loved while also trying to keep my best friend from finding me? Even though I had only taken the required Psych 101 course during my freshman year, I was still able to recognize that those two things indicated there was something deeply flawed. There was not a single departure from the norm.

I turned down the street and made my way to the solitude and protection of my apartment building. When was the last time that I spent the night here by myself? I couldn't remember. Even in my miserable state, I recognized what a blessing it was that Ryder and I were able to spend the majority of our time at his place. If Samantha had seen us in her condo when we were there...

I felt shivers run through my body. After unlocking the door to the condo, I walked inside and then leaned against the door to rest. I could make out the back of the pink couch as I walked down the hallway. The outermost part of the island that is located in the kitchen. Places Ryder and I had made love. The fact that we went out tonight was a stroke of good fortune for all of us.

How much longer would our good fortune last?

How long would we be able to stay hidden?

How much longer do you think I'd still want to?