Is This The End?
note: this short is loosely edited.
Missy hadn’t looked at me all night. Every time I reached for her hand, she subtly moved in the opposite direction. When I placed my hand on the small of her back, she’d adjust her posture and take a step forward.
“Come on, Mis,” I begged through a fake smile. Gently, I grabbed her elbow, urging her to face me.
“We’ll talk later,” she mumbled while sliding her elbow from my grasp. Bringing her glass to her lips, Missy finished the last of her lemon drop martini. “Can you get me another drink?”
My eyebrows furrowed. “Maybe you should get some food?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Yeah, but this will be your third drink.”
Missy scoffed. “I’m just trying to keep up with you.”
Pushing out a breath, I went to the bar for another drink. As I waited for the bartender to prepare our drinks, I watched Missy from across the room. If you didn’t know her, you’d think her smile was genuine. You’d think the look on her face while she listened to my coworkers’ talk was one of pure intrigue. But I knew her. And I knew behind that beautiful smile and bright, engaging eyes; she was hurting. The worst part about it was that I was the reason she was hurting.
Despite us not being in a good place, she still showed up tonight. That action alone told me she hadn’t given up on me or us.
I wanted this just as badly as she did. I needed another chance to show her that I was here. My only hope was that she would grant me the grace to do so.
We met at a transitional point in our lives. Missy had just graduated from undergrad, and I graduated from law school. I spent the first six months of our relationship studying for the bar. Missy worked temp jobs while preparing the launch her event planning business.
Ambition bonded us. Growing up with divorced parents caused us to yearn for an unconditional and understanding love. We had that. I loved Missy with everything in me. My only regret was that I didn’t show her every single day.
After getting another drink, I returned to her. My coworkers continued talking to Missy about an upcoming concert that we were attending. Deena, my nosey coworker, saw me buying the tickets and shared that she would also be attending the show. While Deena talked our heads off, I handed Missy her drink. For the first time tonight, we locked eyes. My stomach knotted from the pain that engulfed her sable orbs.
“Thanks,” Missy told me with a weak smile.
It was all a show. No matter how much we put up a front. The tension between us was palpable.
“Well, I leave you two lovebirds alone. Next week, we should meet for drinks before the concert,” Deena suggested with a smile.
“That sounds like a plan,” I said, nodding.
With that, Deena moved to the next table where the senior partners were conversing.
“That’s the nosey one, right?” Missy asked, a half-smile forming on her lips.
“Yup. That’s Deena.”
Missy hummed, then brought her martini to her lips for a sip. “How much longer?”
Glancing at my watch, I answered, “About an hour.”
Missy looked away. Her cheeks deflated as she pushed out a harsh breath. An hour wasn’t a long time. But I wasn’t sure my relationship would survive this event if we stayed much longer.
“Let me talk to Simon, and then we’ll get out of here.”
Missy nodded. “Okay. I’ll get our coats.”
Glancing around the room, I looked for my boss, Simon Sterling. My attendance tonight was pertinent to the completion of my five-year plan. I’d achieved my most recent goal of passing the bar and getting hired at a firm by twenty-nine. I was on the fast track to becoming a junior partner by thirty-two. After a month of working at The Firm, Simon invited me to happy hour. The Firm took happy hour to a new level. There was a strict dress code, everything was top shelf, and there was an extensive selection of hors d’oeuvre. Simon explained all of this before sending me an official invitation via email.
The Firm was one of the most prestigious firms in the DMV. It was one of the few predominately Black law firms in the area. If you wanted to be a successful corporate lawyer, The Firm was the place to work. I was fortunate enough to have a well-connected mentor that put in a good word for me. From there, I let my work ethic speak for itself.
I’d been working overtime to catch Simon’s attention and stay on his radar. The time I put in at The Firm stole time away from Missy. I hadn’t realized how bad things were until I called to tell her about the happy hour. She mentioned that we hadn’t gone on a date in two weeks. Before I started at the Firm, we went out once a week. I felt terrible once I realized how I’d been neglecting her.
Once I found Simon, I thanked him for inviting me. We had a brief conversation about the cases I was helping with, which led to him asking me to come in tomorrow. Looking over my shoulder, I caught Missy’s gaze. She had returned from coat check. I wasn’t sure if she heard Simon ask me to come in, and for the sake of not adding more fuel to the fire, I knew I needed to wrap up this conversation. Turning back to Simon, I told him that I’d email him later with my decision. He nodded, then went back to talking to the other partners.
Taking my coat from Missy, I put it on then we left. Silently, we left the happy hour.
As we strode to the exit, I reached for Missy’s hand. She didn’t pull away from me this time. Peering down at our hands, she sighed. Tugging on her hand, I waited for her eyes to meet mine. Missy met my gaze with furrowed brows and sorrow-filled eyes. The moment we stepped outside, we were welcomed by a brisk breeze and fast walking pedestrians. Gone was the jazzy music, quiet conversations, and warm environment from happy hour.
We were back in the real world.
“I think I’m going to take the train home,” Missy said as I unlocked the doors to my car.
My eyebrows met, and my chest tightened. “Come on, Melissa.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I inhaled deeply. Missy’s head jerked back like she couldn’t believe what she’d heard. It was rare for me to call her by her first name. However, my patience was thin, and I was at my wit’s end with being the villain.
“We need to talk,” I said calmly. “Running home isn’t going to make things better for us.”
“Typical Chance. Now, you’re ready to talk when I’ve been trying to talk about this for weeks!”
Opening the passenger door, I looked at Missy. “We’re not going to be that couple who argues on the street. At least talk to me in the car. One of my coworkers could see us.”
Her eyes bounced between me and my car. After a beat, she decided to get in the car. I walked over to my side and got in. We waited for the car to warm before speaking.
“I know I haven’t been present, and I promise you that’s going to change.”
Missy folded her arms over her chest. “It’s hard to believe you, Chance. This isn’t the first time you’ve become distant. I can’t be the only one doing the work in this relationship.”
“And I’m taking full accountability for not doing my part in this relationship.”
“By going in to work on a Saturday? We haven’t seen each other in almost two weeks.”
I sighed. I was hoping she hadn’t heard when Simon ask me to come in. “I haven’t confirmed.”
“But you will.”
“You have no faith in me.” I slammed my hands on the steering wheel.
“Sadly, I don’t.”
“I was going to talk to you first.”
Silence surrounded us.
“You missed my presentation yesterday,” Missy said after a moment.
My shoulders slouched as I pushed out an exhale.
Shit.
“Yeah,” she sniped. “You were working late, I know.”
“Missy.”
She held up her hand. “No need to explain yourself or apologize. It won’t mean much. If I hadn’t said anything, you wouldn’t have either.”
For weeks, Missy worked on a presentation to collaborate with Clean Eatz, a popular vegan food truck in our area. Missy was planning a food truck event for the spring and needed this collaboration to pull in more participants and sponsorships. I’d helped her strategize and prepare for their meeting. I couldn’t believe I had forgotten.
“I need some time,” she said while looking out of the window.
“What do you mean?”
“To figure out if this is what I want. This is my first serious relationship and what’s happening now isn’t what I signed up for.”
“What can I do? I’ll do whatever I can to fix this.”
“Be there, Chance. I get that you have a plan. And that this relationship wasn’t a part of that plan, but here we are. Hell, I didn’t see myself getting into anything serious until I got my business in order. Yet here I am, trying. I’m there every time you need me. It’s not reciprocated.”
“I can do that. I just need the chance to do it.”
“Okay.”
“Come home with me. If you still feel the same tomorrow, I’ll give you the time you need.”
She stared at me for a moment before nodding.
Half an hour later, we were at my house sitting on opposite sides of the couch watching T.V. Another hour passed before Missy went to my room and changed. She returned to the living room in one of my shirts. It stopped right at the curve of her hips. I licked my lips while watching her return to her spot on the couch. I grabbed her hand just as she passed by me. Pulling her onto my lip, I ran my nose along her neck, inhaling her sweet scent.
“I love you,” I murmured against the shell of her ear. “I’m gonna make this right,” I promised her.
“Chance,” she whined.
“Let me fix this.”
Before she could say anything else, I captured her lips with mine. A whimper fell from her lips while she wrapped her arms around my neck. Missy repositioned herself on my lap. Now straddling me, she kissed me deeper. Raking her nails down my neck, Missy rocked her hips as her tongue played at the seams of my lips. Slipping my hands underneath her shirt, I palmed the small of her back, drawing her closer to me. I yearned to be closer to her. Both physically and emotionally.
I loved Missy more than I’d ever loved a woman before. In the year we’d been together, Missy had helped me grow in ways I couldn’t have imagined. I had more to learn about love. I was so used to only depending on myself that I’d become selfish. It wasn’t fair to Missy. She showed up for me every time I needed her. She deserved that and more.
Starting tonight, I would do all I could to prove to Missy that she was my number one. I watched my parents fall apart because my dad was obsessed with providing. I could admit that his ambition had rubbed off on me. My dad has every material thing he could ever want. However, he was old, single, and lonely now. Every relationship after my mother never lasted longer than a year or two.
Since our conversation in the car, Missy’s words had stuck with me. All I could think about was my dad. I refused to end up like him.
Missy ended our kiss and gazed at me. “I’m afraid of getting hurt,” she confessed.
“I know. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”
I understood her apprehensions. Unlike my parents, Missy’s parents divorced and remained single. Their separation left them scarred permanently. Missy was collateral damage. We went into this bearing the scars from our childhood. The chemistry we shared made it easy to push our fears aside. And for a while, we were smooth sailing. Yet and still, our fears presented themselves at the worst time.
“Just trust me,” I whispered against her lips.
The feeling of her lips on mine felt like confirmation of a second chance. We kissed lazily. I took my time nipping and sucking her bottom lip. Missy rocked her hips slowly as I ran my hand up her thighs. I loved her smooth coffee brown skin. Hands slid up her thighs until I reached her hips. While playing with the waist of her panties, I trailed kisses along her neck and jawline. The soft whimpers she emitted grew louder when I slipped my hand in her panties, meeting her engorged clit. With her head tilted back, she rolled her hips over my finger while using my shoulders for support.
Missy grabbed my wrist, her eyes filled with fire, and she used her other hand to unbutton my pants. Once my pants were over my hips, Missy pulled out my hardened dick. My eyes stayed on Missy as her wetness covered me. I grunted from her warmth engulfing me. Laying my head back on the couch, I lost myself the movement of her hips and the softness of her lips on my neck. I began rocking my hips into her, prompting her to match my rhythm.
Our eyes locked, my eyebrows drew together as I tried to read her. Missy’s eyes looked void of all emotion. I could feel her slipping her away from me. With her mouth agape and her eyebrows furrowed, Missy whined her hips on me. Closing the space between us, she hovered her mouth over mine. Her choppy breaths tickled my lips before my mouth crashed into hers. If my words couldn’t get through to her, maybe my kisses could. Maybe the tightness of my hold on her waist would show her that I didn’t want to let her go. Heat filled my chest at the mere thought of losing her. My hips rocked into her harder. My stomach muscles tightened, and my breaths quickened. Missy’s moans became pants as our bodies continuously collided as we reached our peaks. We kissed through our climaxes.
An hour later, we were in bed. Missy’s soft snores permeated the air as I stared at the ceiling. I had a decision to make. And it was the obvious choice. Reaching for my phone, I sent an email to Simon letting him know I wouldn’t be working tomorrow. After sending the email, I made reservations at Missy’s favorite brunch spot. I knew she’d want to eat after her weekly yoga session. If I wanted us to last, I had to put forth the effort. Not going into work on my off day and spending more time with Missy seemed like a step in the right direction.
From this day forward, I promised myself to be more cognizant of my woman’s needs. We were in uncharted territory. This love thing was exhilarating and downright terrifying. But I knew we could make it. What we had was different. Missy wouldn’t be the one who got away.
Holding her tightly, I drifted to sleep, hopeful of our future together.
Our future became more uncertain the next morning because I woke up alone. I checked the kitchen, living room, and closet, hoping Missy had left something behind. I opened the drawer I’d designated as hers, and it was empty.
She was gone.
“Fuck!” I yelled before running my hands over my face.
Grabbing my phone off the nightstand, I attempted to call her, but it went straight to voice mail. I opened my messages intending to text her. My heart pounded against my chest when I saw she’d texted me at five this morning.
Missy: I’m sorry, Chance. But I need some time…
To Be Continued…
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