Leave In Silence

"Here." Dennis thrust a towel at her, which she accepted gratefully and dried off her face. "I gotta get ready for work." The door thumped loudly behind him. Natalie wrapped the towel around herself and hurried after him, but not before noticing the two toothbrushes in the holder on the sink. Who else lived here?

Dennis was halfway dressed by the time she reached his room, and even though she went right up to him he refused to look at her, his face a stone.

"Dennis, what's wrong?"

He whirled around, black T-shirt clutched in his fist. "What's wrong? What the fuck do you think is wrong, Natalie? Are you so blind that you don't even know?"

"Den--"

"No. I don't want to hear it. Just--just get away from me." He yanked his shirt over his head, movements jerky. "Why the fuck am I so stupid," he muttered, grabbing a pair of socks and his boots from the floor.

"I'm not playing with you, if that's what you're thinking," she said, blood pounding in her head. How could he even think that, after what just happened between them? Did he not hear a word?

"Get dressed," he said curtly. "I'll drop you off at David's and you can get back to your nice little life."

Before she could even think of something to say he was gone, leaving her with the certainty that she'd messed up again. Tears burned as she dressed, her eyes returning to the rumpled bedclothes, to the memories of that perfect time, short as it had been.

He was waiting for her, keys in hand, when she found her way to the kitchen. Like the rest of the house, it was old, with cracked linoleum and ancient gold appliances. Wordlessly Dennis turned and headed for the front door. She followed in his angry wake, feeling worthless and stupid and hurt.

Outside it was still warm, a breeze blowing through the trees. Natalie climbed into the car and barely had her seatbelt buckled before he was backing out of the driveway.

"Dennis, who else lives in your house?"

His jaw tightened. "None of your fucking business."

He couldn't have hurt her more if he'd reached over and slapped her face. Tears pricking her eyes, she looked out the window, trying to regain her composure. His anger burned the air, a supernova she was afraid to approach.

"Where am I taking you?" He downshifted, slowing for a red light. When she didn't answer he finally looked at her. "Don't you have somewhere you need to be?"

"No."

"Really. What about David? Don't you gotta run back to him now, get back into your nice little life?"

"Dennis--"

"He's a lawyer or something like that, right? Makes big bucks, he'd have to, to give you a giant rock like that. Probably wears a suit and tie every day, even to dinner. Am I close, Nat? Is he everything you've ever dreamed of?"

"Dennis, stop. Why are you so angry? What did I do?"

The light changed to green, but he didn't move. A couple of cars honked behind them before going around, the drivers' faces angry, some making obscene gestures.

"I thought I was over you, Natalie," he said, staring straight ahead through the windshield, jaw hard. "And then I saw you at the mall, and you smiled and kissed me, and I knew I wasn't, knew I'd never be over you." He paused, finally looked at her. "You're under my skin; I can't get rid of you. God knows I've tried, but it's no good. I can't have a relationship because I always end up comparing her to you."

Natalie's eyes filled, her hands gripping each other in her lap.

The light changed back to green again and this time he went through it, still driving too fast.

"But you--you've obviously moved on and I--I don't wanna care, but I can't help it. I don't know who this David guy is, but I fucking hate him, and I fucking hate you for marrying him when you wouldn't commit to me."

She shrank from his anger, from the hurt that burned her skin. "I'm not going to marry him." The thought had hovered insider her head for months, and now that she said it, the truth of it shone brightly.

"Bullshit. That rock on your fingers says otherwise, Natalie. Don't say shit to me just because you feel guilty. That's bogus."

She rolled down the window, her fingers caressing the engagement ring briefly before she pulled it off.

David knelt beside her chair and held out a red velvet box. Natalie glanced around at the other customers in the restaurant, blushing.

"David, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Natalie? I want you to be my wife. Say you'll marry me."

With trembling hands, she accepted the box and opened it. A marquis cut diamond on a platinum band rested inside, sparkling in the low light. Tears came to her eyes. Never, ever, in her whole life, had she dreamed anyone would give her a ring, let alone marry her.

"Oh, David," she breathed, considering his face. "Yes. Yes."

The memory made her hesitate only for a moment.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Showing you that I mean what I say." She stuck her hand out the window, the ring that David had spent so much money on lying on her palm. Slowly, slowly, she turned her hand over.

"Don't do that, oh come on, Natalie!"

Lightness washed over her, as if the ring had been weighing her down, suppressing her true self. Free. Now, she was free.

"Do you believe me now?"

He shook his head. "I can't believe you. You could have just stuck it in your purse or something, Nat. Pawned it, even. Fuck. The shit's really going to hit the fan now, because a rock like that ain't cheap."

"I know." Wonder filled her, wonder at her own daring, her casting off a future she thought she wanted. "But--it seemed like the right thing to do at the moment."

Dennis smiled wryly. "Yeah, right."

"David's a nice man," she said after a moment. "He makes me feel safe and protected. I like that feeling. But..."

Dennis was silent. "Do you love him?" It was a weighty question, one on which she sensed her future rested.

Did she love David? Truly love him in a want-to-have-his-baby way? Could she live with him and his sisters for the rest of her life? Did she want to?

"I don't know. But if I loved him, I wouldn't be here with you, would I?" Would she? Was she only with David to keep from being lonely? Had she really built a relationship on that? And Dennis? What about him? Did she love him or was he just a way to relive memories?

Guilt pricked her conscience, and she dug in her purse for her cell phone.

She felt Dennis watching her as she accessed her voice mail. A moment later David's exasperated voice filled the car.

Natalie, where are you? Penny said she left you at the mall with some weird looking guy after you told her you'd be here for dinner. Well, it's seven o'clock and dinner is cold. Where the hell are you? Call me.

Just then a call came through, startling her. David's name popped up on the display and she bit her lip.

"Don't answer it," Dennis told her, pulling into the parking lot of a small bar named McClanahan's.

"I have to. Hello, David."

"Natalie! Where are you? Are you okay?" He spoke so loudly she had to hold the phone away from ear.

"I'm fine."

"I didn't know what to think when I saw Penny at Mom's and you weren't with her. Where did you go? Why aren't you here now?"

Natalie glanced at Dennis. He shrugged, looked out the window.

"I--I'm with a friend." She cringed, hating her own cowardice. Why couldn't she just tell him?

"A friend? Who? Lindsey? Bella?"

No, she wanted to say, those are your friends, not mine. My friends wear stompy boots and PVC; yours wear Gucci and Donna Karan. The thought saddened her; she and Mackenzie hadn't spoken in months.

"I--I can't marry you, David."

Silence greeted this pronouncement. Then, in a controlled voice, "I don't think I heard you correctly."

"I'm breaking our engagement."

More silence. "You need some space. I understand that." He spoke in that reasonable tone that drove her crazy. Sometimes she just wanted him to lose control and get angry. To be human.

"You've been under a lot of stress, haven't you? Work takes a lot out of you, I know. Take tonight, then. I'll see you tomorrow and we'll talk."

"David--"

"Good night, Natalie. We'll talk this out tomorrow." Natalie dropped the phone back in her bag, nonplussed. How very like David to fashion his own version of things.

"Looks like you're off the hook tonight," Dennis said, opening the door. "Come on. I'll take you home after my shift."

As she followed him across the cracked asphalt, she wished she and Mackenzie hadn't lost touch. Natalie missed her.

"Just sit anywhere," Dennis said when they entered the dim building. He walked off without another word, leaving her feeling stupid and abandoned. Well, if he wanted to continue being pissed, then that was his choice. Natalie lifted her chin and made her way through the crowded tables and snagged a seat at the end of the bar. Dennis was already behind it making drinks. He very carefully avoided looking her way.

She'd been sitting there for about half an hour when someone slid onto the stool next to her.

"Hey, how's it going?"

He was tall and muscular, with very short black hair, a goatee and an irresistible smile.

"It's going," she said, turning to him. Conscious of her disheveled appearance, she had to wonder what a good-looking guy like him saw in her.

"You look thirsty. Buy you a drink?" He set a glistening bottle of Samuel Adams on the polished bar. She wanted to laugh.

"Oh. Um." She glanced at Dennis at the other end, occupied with a group of college-age kids. "Well, sure. Guinness, please."

"Great. I'm Neal, by the way."

"Natalie."

Dennis came over then, his face a hard stone but for his eyes, which glinted with suppressed anger, and maybe jealousy.

"The lady would like a Guinness," Neal said, pulling out his wallet, never taking his eyes off her.

Natalie found his attention somewhat uncomfortable. Dennis continued to glare and keep his distance, which hurt but also made her angry.

"So are you here alone?" Neal sipped his beer. She couldn't help noticing that his eyes were an electric blue. Contact lenses?

"No. I'm with him." She indicated Dennis and Neal laughed.

"You're kidding. That guy? With all the piercings? Never would have put you two together, Natalie. Not in a million years."

Natalie just smiled. If he saw her decked out in her boots and mini dress, he'd certainly have no problem putting her and Dennis together. The smile faded when she realized how long it had been since she'd gone clubbing with Mackenzie. She wasn't even sure where her boots were anymore.

"You never want to do anything anymore, Natalie. How can you stand having such a boring life?"

Neal leaned forward. "So tell me: are you with him, or is he just someone to mark time with? Cause I have to tell you, Natalie, you deserve better." He smirked, confident, arrogant, irritating. Time to shut the creep down.

"You don't even know Dennis, and you sure as hell don't know me. So why don't you do us both a favor and find some other woman who's actually interested in the asinine things you have to say." Natalie twirled back around on the stool and sipped her beer, ignoring the jerk's muttered obscenities. She was tired; it was getting hard to keep her eyes open and the alcohol wasn't helping. Maybe she ought to take a cab back to her apartment.

While she was checking her bag to make sure she had enough cash, Dennis came over.

"Nat."

"I'm going to go home, Dennis. I'll just catch a cab or call an Uber."

He pinched his lips together. "Hang on a minute." She watched him talk to another bartender and then he came out from behind the bar and grabbed her hand. His touch thrilled her, until she realized he was only doing it to make it easier for them both to get through the crowd.

"Come on. I'll take you home."

"Don't you have to work?"

It was so noisy that Dennis didn't answer her until they were out in the night air. Then he dropped her hand to dig his keys out of his pocket. The sun had set, the cooling air a relief after the crowded bar.

"Shep's gonna call Tim and have him work the rest of my shift. I'll have to work one of his days, but no big deal."

"I could have taken a cab."

"Is that what you want?" He turned and got in her face, his green eyes flaming. "Just wham-bam-thankyou-Dennis?"

"N--no, Dennis," she stammered, again bowled over by his anger. "That's not what I meant."

"Can't you fucking say what you mean for once, Natalie? I'm getting all kinds of mixed messages here. I don't know whether I want to strangle you or kiss you."

"I--I don't know what I mean," she whispered, and his shoulders slumped as the anger leaked out of him.

"That's the most truthful thing you've said all night." He rubbed his face wearily. "Let's get you home, then."

She sat quietly as they drove back into the city, the lights flashing by, making her sleepy. So much had happened today she was unable to process it all. The coming confrontation with David she didn't want to think about. She already knew it was going to be horrible. And Dennis--if possible she was even more confused about him. That he still had feelings for her and resented it had been a shocking and wonderful revelation. Yet Natalie sensed that he would demand a commitment from her this time, or they'd be over for good.

Safe and warm with David or passion with Dennis? Security or freedom? Pleasure or pain? Wait--with Den it was both pleasure and pain, always exciting and new. And he loved her fiercely, no matter that he'd cheated and might cheat again.

But--she glanced over at Dennis looking so serious, so not happy. So familiar. Did she want him? When they'd first gotten together being with him had been natural, wonderful, completing. And then she'd totally messed up and driven him away and then came David and things were good. Weren't they?

Had things been good with David? Suddenly uncomfortable, she recalled the times he'd spoken to her sharply, correcting some social faux pas, or buying the clothing he wanted her to wear. And then there was the time he came over to her apartment, not long after they started dating.

"Wow. You live here?" David stood just inside the door, as if coming any farther would sully his designer shoes. His perfect nose wrinkled ever so slightly.

Never before had Natalie felt anything but proud of her apartment, the first place she could truly call her home, and she'd filled it with the things she loved.

Beads hung down over the floor-to-ceiling windows, glinting in the waning sunlight. Her couch was from Goodwill, brown and worn, but comfortable. The galley kitchen displayed her collection of chipped and mismatched plates in the open shelved cabinets, and the ancient white fridge chugged away loyally.

Her bedroom consisted of a futon and a rattan dresser from clearance at Pier One. A rusting air conditioner in the window did its best to cool the space. On the walls she'd hung cheap prints of favorite pieces of art. Her favorite was a charcoal sketch Dennis had done of her one night after they'd made love, and which she'd never had the heart to take down.

The place Natalie called home was bright and colorful and full of the things she loved. David shook his head in wonder and said, "Wow. Just--wow, Natalie."

"It's great, isn't it? It's my favorite place to be." She grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"That's not exactly what I meant," he said, withdrawing his hand and wiping it on his expensive jeans. "I can't--This is terrible."

Natalie's jaw dropped. "Wh--what do you mean?"

"Nothing. Let's go to my place."

Bewildered, Natalie followed him out into the hall and carefully shut the door and locked it. As soon as they were outside David acted more normally and kissed her unresponsive lips.

"Let me show you how you should be living, Natalie darling."

When they reached the old brick house where she lived, Dennis finally spoke. "I'll walk you up." Was he remembering the times they shared in the apartment at the rear? Or was he eager to get rid of her, to consign her to a boring, proper life?

Outside her door Natalie turned to Dennis, and oh, she wanted to move into his arms, but she didn't dare. The hard planes and angles of his face warned her not to even try.

"Thank you, Dennis," she said, gripping her hands together. "Do--will you come inside?" The stuffy hallway smelled of fried bacon from someone's breakfast, and beneath that the slight odor of mildewing carpet lurked. From the day she moved in she'd loved this old house, loved her small rooms that belonged to her, the first time anything of worth had been truly hers. And she'd clung to it, clung to something that drove the man she loved away, and if she could go back and change it--she'd probably do the same thing again, sadly. She'd wanted Dennis, but only on her terms.

As if hearing her thoughts, he spoke softly. "I never understood why you loved this place so much, but I do. I get it, Nat."

Natalie twisted her hands together, still wanting to touch him, wanting him to touch her. "Den, I--I'm sorry," she whispered, throat aching.

He said nothing, his expression softening. He reached out and touched her cheek, his touch gentler than she expected. She stood still as he pushed her hair out of her face, his thumb wiping tears she didn't realize were there. Her eyes fluttered closed as he slid his fingers into her hair and kissed her, and she clutched at him, pulling him as close as she could.

***

"I've dreamed of being with you again," Dennis breathed into her hair. He held her tight against him, his legs entwined with hers. "The last two years were hell. No matter what I did, I couldn't forget about you, Nat. You might not want to hear all this, but I got to say it."

Natalie stayed quiet, his words a knife in her gut. She couldn't see his face in the dark, and that was okay. Some things were easier to say in darkness.

"When we broke up, I totally lost it. The tour was a complete and total fucking disaster. I screwed up." He stops speaking for a minute, then lets his breath out in a rush. "You know that I never perform drunk, but after the breakup I was hardly ever sober. We got kicked off the tour, and then Lenny that bastard took what was left."

"Oh, Dennis." Natalie turned in his arms and kissed his unresponsive mouth, his cheek. She felt him pulling away, the closeness they'd shared minutes ago dissolving. He let out a shuddering sigh.

"Yeah. It totally blows. None of the guys will even speak to me."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged, physically pulling away from her. Cold rushed into the space he left.

"Sorry doesn't make it better, Nat."

"Dennis, I--"

"No. Don't talk. I--I got more to say, and I got to say it right now." The bed shifted as he slid out of bed. "I want to trust you, Natalie, I really do, but my gut is telling me that would be a dumb thing to do." Clothing rustled, and she knew he was dressing in the dark, leaving her. She sat up and found her satin robe, slipped it on.

"I'm scared that in the light of day, you'll realize what you're throwing away and then you'll kick me to the curb again. Just like before."

"I didn't kick you to the curb, Den."

"You fucking did, Natalie. You shoved me away and got on with your life, not caring that I was in the gutter."

"That's not fair. I tried to get us back. Remember? But you didn't want to talk."

He snorted. "That's right, blame me. What the fuck ever." Dennis sat on the edge of the bed to put on his boots. "I won't do this again. I can't do this again. This was a mistake."

"No, Den," Natalie said, rushing over to him and throwing her arms around his stiff body. "It's not a mistake. It's not. I love you and I want to be with you."

His face twisted, and he pushed her away, walking toward the door, his boots thumping on the scarred hardwood floor. "Goodbye, Natalie."