Let Him Cry Pt. 04

She stopped for takeout on the way and a bottle of wine. We ate sitting at the head of her bed watching Notting Hill, a movie she loved and I tolerated. At the scene where Hugh Grant is trying to explain to Julia Roberts why she's making too big a deal about things, Bela paused it.

"Were there any other things you were doing that you should talk to me about? I mean, like the rent-situation thing." I could tell she wasn't accusing. She was trying to clear the air.

"I made a list of some locations I heard about that might be good for Café Olé if the one you found didn't work out. I also put together a list of contractors I think are reliable."

"You don't want to do the work? I mean your company."

I shook my head. "Relationships between clients and contractors are always strained at some point. Do we need that?" She shook her head. "But I'll be glad to provide some oversight if you would like."

I'd bet even-money there was an internal flinch, but after the briefest of pauses, she said, "That would take a huge load off my mind."

She un-paused the movie, then stopped it again. She did that woman-thing of taking off her bra without removing her t-shirt, then shucked her jeans down. She looked up at me. "You're staying, right?" I nodded, and she smiled and slid her legs under the covers.

I tried to read the room. My best guess was: I'm not in the mood for anything more than having you here, but I would like that.

I slid off the bed, shed my own jeans and socks, then pulled my shirt over my head before settling back beside her in my underwear. I got another smile, and she turned to lean back against my shoulder, flipping Julia and Hugh back to life.

She fell asleep before I did. I lay there, my eyes getting heavier, not want to disturb her rest. Eventually, I needed to move since my arm was falling asleep. I shifted her down onto her pillow, punched mine into shape. She muttered something unintelligible and I felt her burrow closer, a panty-clad butt pressing into my hip, one ankle reaching back to hook my leg. I drifted off.

In the morning, I awoke to a hand gently toying with the hair on my chest. When she felt me move, she snuggled in more closely. "Matt?"

"Yeah?"

"You drive me crazy sometimes. And I don't always understand you. But--" The finger twirling the hair wound it into a knot.

"Ow!"

She pulled her hand away quickly. She patted the spot, smoothing the hairs back down. She looked up and met my eyes with an apologetic face.

"It's okay." I waited. "But...?"

It took a few seconds. The fingers came back and absently started toying again. She hesitated longer. "I love you."

I didn't. "I have loved you for a long time."

The hand stopped. She slid back from me, pushing the covers aside and swinging her legs to the floor.

"What? You're leaving?" I said in shock.

She looked back, face all solemn. "I'm going to brush my teeth. I'm not making love with morning breath." Halfway to the bathroom door, she turned. "You're not either. Up!"

• • •

My building's holiday party was in full swing. I'd brought Bela, but we'd been swept apart almost immediately as I got buttonholed by a couple of guys who wanted some advice on renovations. The place was full, but our eyes still met occasionally across the room.

Most of the women were in dresses appropriate for an early-evening cocktail party. Some of the younger, single women had gone a little décolleté and were busy making sure the younger, single men noticed. One even flirted lightly with me, until Bela ran her off. To be fair, smilingly ran her off.

"We should go if we're going to make an appearance," Bela whispered. The Abode holiday party was the same evening.

I nodded and we slid out the door with only, "Another party. Back in a while," to Matt and Angela.

The second shindig was in a far more advanced state of merriment. John was there with Madison. "I was hoping you'd get here before we had to leave." Madison was ensconced on a chair, looking a little tired. "Mom's got the baby, but we gotta get back." He leaned in and said quietly, "She's here and she's with someone."

Bela heard and I saw her eyes track around the room and lock on the flaming red hair by the bar. Sure enough, Caitlyn was on the arm of a rather distinguished guy.

"Doesn't matter a bit," I said back.

"Good answer," I heard muttered behind me, and I reached back and pulled Bela into the curve of my arm.

It turned out that Caitlyn wasn't the threat to my peace. Other than a frosty greeting from her and a cordial one from me when the swirl of party-currents pulled us near, we ignored each other.

Bela was off saying hello to some of the people who had helped on her house when I heard, "Hello, Matt." Two arms encircled me from the side, and an unmistakable sensation of softness hit my arm.

"Hi, Lindsay." I diverted the kiss aimed for my lips to my cheek.

The hug got firmer for a second, then the hands slid off my shoulders to take my arm and pull it in close. I looked across the room and saw that Bela had, inevitably, chosen that moment to glance my way. Her eyes met mine, dropped down to look at biceps sandwiched in cleavage, and then rose back up to my face. Her head tipped in an expression that, for all the hint of amiability, didn't need a lot of translation.

I pulled enough that my arm came slightly free, but Lindsay didn't let go. She followed me across to Bela. "Lindsay, you remember Bela."

"Of course." The giggle betrayed how much Lindsay was feeling no pain.

"Bela came with me tonight."

I could see Lindsay's hammered brain trying to figure out whether that meant as a date or just transportation. Bela helped her. She leaned in to whisper in Lindsay's ear. Maybe it was the background noise of the party making her speak louder, or maybe she wanted me to hear. Either way, "That means I'm the one who'll be fucking him tonight."

Eyes opened wide; hands let go; cushiony softness withdrew. "Sorry," and Lindsay sailed off in search of other prey. I couldn't stop myself: I broke into laughter.

Bela gave me a Little Miss Innocent look and took my arm herself. "Have you said hi to everyone?" At my nod, "Then let's go. It seems you can't be trusted at a party."

"Hey, no fair!"

She stuck her nose in the air, a sure sign that she wasn't really upset. "Evidence backs me up. Let's go get dinner. I'm hungry and don't feel like sparring with the next girl who wants to cut you out of the herd."

We were sitting on the couch in my living room. The restaurant we wanted to go to was BYOB and we'd gone to grab a bottle of wine. That had turned into a glass for her before we headed out since they couldn't seat us right away.

She took a sip. "I'm sorry to take you away from your friends. I admit I got a little jealous. I'm not insecure. It was more... I don't know... a possessive feeling, that they were trespassing on my turf. I'm sorry."

"I am your turf."

"For sure?"

"Of course!"

She glanced down at her glass. "I saw your look when that guy got a little friendly about the mistletoe." I shrugged. It hadn't been a big deal.

When she turned so that we were face-to-face, I got a little concerned. "Bela, what?"

"There's something I think is understood, at least I hope it is. But we've had communication issues, and so I want to say it. I think that should be our policy." She looked at me for agreement. I nodded. "I'm afraid you'll react badly, that you'll read something into it that isn't there."

"Bela, just spit it out."

"I will never cheat on you." Before I could respond she continued, "If you cheat on me, I will leave you in a heartbeat, no warnings, no second chances."

To someone as monogamous as I, that should have sounded perfect. And it did sound perfect. But, at the same time, something ugly flashed through me. Some little glimpse into that maelstrom that used to sit beneath the veneer, the one I thought had gone away.

Bela saw me react. Her face fell. "Matt?" She didn't understand. "Matt, have you..." She couldn't finish the question.

I rallied myself. "No. Absolutely not. I've never cheated on anyone and never will. We agree one hundred percent."

"Then what was that? You looked furious for a second." Her face, which had gone from firm as she made her statement, to horrified as she thought I might have strayed, now morphed to distraught. "Do you think I've cheated on you? I swear, even while we were broken--"

I used my hand to shush her. "No. I don't think that for a second." I pulled her into my arms. "Not a second."

She pushed back free. "Then what?" When I didn't respond right away, she chucked me under the chin. "Hey. We're supposed to be talking now. Do I need to get Taty in here?" She was making a joke, but I could see she was serious. She wanted to know what was lurking. The trouble was, I didn't know myself.

"I'm not sure," I said slowly. She waited patiently while I tried to figure it out. "For a while after the accident, I found myself getting angry and upset a lot, over little things."

"I know." I looked at her in surprise. "Girls talk, Matt. Taty, Caitlyn, even Angela have mentioned that you were having issues. Caitlyn said it was normal after a concussion."

"It's gotten a lot better. I think it was getting out of the house. And especially since I've been seeing you."

She smiled at that but shook her head. "A few weeks--" she broke off.

"What?"

She hesitated a moment longer. "A few weeks ago, Ruth said something to me." I waited. "She said you started getting better when you finally let yourself cry for Olivia." She watched my face to see how I took that. I didn't know what to say. "It's okay, Matt. I'm not upset. She was your wife. I think it's healthy that you finally allowed yourself to grieve. I'm not going to leave you over that."

That brought the spike of anger again, harder this time.

I barely heard what she was saying as she stroked along the side of my arm. "What is that, right there? Tell me what you're feeling. I want to know. Please, don't shut me out. Talk to me."

Her words flowed over me, not penetrating.

"What am I doing to make you mad?"

"It's not you. It's Liv."

"What about her?"

"I don't know." And then what should have been obvious all along actually became obvious to my thick head. I could feel myself getting angry all out of proportion. I thought I'd handled that shit months and months ago, back in the Caitlyn days. Now I realized I'd done what I always did: stuffed it down inside, left it alive to spring up later. "It was when you said you'd leave me. She left."

Her face cleared. I realized she'd been afraid that, despite what I said, I was angry at her for poking. "She didn't do it to hurt you."

"But," I realized I had started to raise my voice and tried to lower it, "she was my wife. Do you know what it's like to sit at home not knowing if the person you love is alive or dead?" I'm afraid I wasn't that successful at controlling myself: my voice was back to loud by the end of that sentence.

"She felt she needed to go, Matt."

"Out the door with no discussion. Only her pride mattered. I guess she just needed someone else for comfort."

"No! It wasn't that. And yes, she was selfish," Bela agreed. "But demanding she stay would have been selfish of you. There were no easy paths at that point."

I didn't know what to say to that.

"She wanted to spare you."

I did know what to say to that. I'd said it over and over to myself for a year. "I didn't want to be spared," I spat. "I wanted to be there for her."

She didn't flinch. "Then the question is, can you forgive what she did knowing that she was absolutely terrified you wouldn't love her anymore if you saw her that way?"

After a moment of stunned silence, I reared back in protest. "What the fuck! How could she think--"

"Matt!" Her hand tightened hard on my forearm, her tone bringing me up short. "She was dying horribly and painfully at age thirty. She was scared out of her mind. Think about it: she had only two things she wanted to say to you at the end. Everything was how much she loved you... and how important it was that you always saw her as the pretty girl you fell in love with."

She reached up and cupped her hand along my jaw as she went on. "It wasn't pride. That's just the excuse she gave because she couldn't bear to put her fears into words. Your love was all she had left, and she clung to it like a drowning person. She wasn't going to allow anything to threaten that. Not your feelings, not hers, nothing! Sad, angry, even furious: all of that was fine... as long as you still loved her." She shook her head.

"Yes, you and I know you still would've loved her no matter what. Of course, Matt. Of course! But you can't expect rational thought from someone in that place. She was terrified of losing the one thing that mattered most to her."

I had never thought of it that way. I had never understood the reason for her departure. All of a sudden it was more than I could take. I started crying. Not a few tears. Deep, wracking sobs came out of nowhere.

Bela held me through it, half-curled into a ball against her chest as the emotions poured through me: shame that I'd ever doubted Liv's motives; sorrow that she hadn't realized that absolutely nothing could ever have made me stop loving her.

That brought me up short. Here I was, crying over one woman in the arms of another. "Oh, Bela, I'm sorry! I love y--"

She cut me off as I started to babble some protest, some reassurance that I loved her.

"If you stopped loving her just because you started loving me, I would have misjudged you. I'm not jealous of her, Matt." She pushed me upright so she could see my face.

"The way you feel about her reassures me that you'll love me forever too."

She used her fingers to comb my hair back off my forehead. "As long as you live in the present, I don't mind if you remember the past once in a while."

Her hand slid down and grabbed me under the chin. "But any other woman is a different story, buster. If those tarts manage to show up at the next party, don't you forget whose guy you are!" She was smiling as she said it. She knew she had nothing to fear from them.

I smiled weakly. It was the best I could manage given the emotions. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Good. Remember, the Spanish perfected the Inquisition!" She stood and walked back toward the bedroom, quietly reciting, "Fear and surprise. Fear, surprise, and ruthless efficiency. Fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency, and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope." She glanced back, gave me a wink and a broad smile. "Wash your face and let's go eat."

I didn't move as she disappeared. I sat there thinking about where my life had been, where it was now, and where I saw it in the future. I thought about regrets: mine and others. I thought about how much I loved Liv and how much I loved Bela. It was different and, yet, it was the same--

No. That was wrong. It was the same even though they were different.

She came back into the room after about five minutes. Her look was equal parts exasperated and quizzical. "Hon, you need to clean up a bit. Change your shirt. I'm starving!"

"Bela?"

"What?"

I had trouble speaking for a second. As I struggled, I saw her expression change, the deliberate light-heartedness giving way to concern. "Oh, I'm sorry! I was trying to cheer you up. We don't have to go out to--"

This time I was the one cutting her off. "Isabel Navarro, will you marry me?"

Her expression changed a second time, from concern to surprise. Then a third time, from surprise to something warmer. She sank onto the couch beside me and took my hands in hers. She stared into my eyes for a long moment, then said, "I have baggage."

"Pfft," I said, dismissing that. "Who doesn't?"

"Yes, but mine's six years old and will be around the house another decade or two."

"Doesn't matter. I wouldn't change anything about you."

She started crying. "Then, yes, I'll marry you."

It was a surprisingly chaste kiss given what we'd just decided to do but, somehow, it seemed appropriate after the last half hour. I sat there with my arm around her until something occurred to me. "I don't have a ring."

"Pretty poor planning, Brennan."

"It wasn't a plan."

"I was just teasing." She sat up. "Go clean up and change your shirt. I'm hungry and need to be fed. We'll go ring shopping afterward. Scoot! Oh, and osito?" she said. "You've just made me the happiest woman on the planet." She leaned in for another kiss, and this one was longer by a country mile, soft and romantic, body molded up against mine. "I love you."

My whispered, "Me, too," brought another kiss.

The condo party was still in full swing, albeit noticeably more inebriated, when we got back two hours later.

"Hey, Matt," Angela called as we walked into the rec room, "I so glad you guys-- Oh my God!" Somehow, with a radar that women seem to have, she'd spotted Bela's left ring finger from fifteen feet away. She practically teleported across the distance to snatch up the hand and gush, "It's beautiful! Oh, I'm so happy." Angela threw her arms around Bela in a big hug as Matt caught up to his wife.

"Congratulations," he said, shaking my hand.

Angela's arms wrapped around me next. "Good for you." She pulled back to look me squarely in the face. "Everyone who has loved you is happy for you right now." I knew what she was saying. She was right.

I leaned in and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for being my friend even when I made it hard." I gave her another kiss.

She blushed and swatted me, "Oh, stop it. You'll make Matt jealous."

He laughed and caught her around the waist, pulling her into his shoulder. "Now that he's safely taken by this gorgeous woman, I'm not worried." He glanced over her head at me with a smile and a wink at our private joke.

Bela caught it and gave me a look, but I just shook my head and mouthed, "Tell you later."

We became the center of the party. Bela spent the next five minutes, when she wasn't being hugged by men and women alike, good-naturedly telling me to wipe the lipstick off my cheek.

Taty came up and wrapped her arms around me in a big hug. "I told Bela I'll open tomorrow morning," she whispered in my ear. "Go be with your fiancée."

Our night was interrupted at one in the morning when Bela's phone rang.

"At this hour?" Bela said with a slight frown of concern. "Hello, mamá." I could hear her mother talking but it was unintelligible until Bela hit the button for speakerphone. "She wants to know where I am and what I'm doing."

She flashed me a dirty grin. "I'm trying to decide whether to tell her what I'm doing. In the meantime, say hello, Matt."

"Hello," I said dutifully.

You could hear a pin drop. "Mamá, Ana has Rafi and everything's fine. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

The speaker erupted. "¿Cómo pudiste avergonzarme así? Ven a..." It went on for a bit. Bela waited until it died down, then translated. "Now she wants to know how I could embarrass her by putting her on speakerphone in front of you. She wants me to get dressed and come home right now."

As the torrent of Spanish protest started up again even more furiously, Bela loudly and firmly talked over it. "Mom! I'm a big girl. If I choose to spend a night with a man, it's none of your business. Goodbye." Without waiting for a response, she hung up.

The Navarros, senior and junior, didn't do upset-at-you in half-measures, did they?

"My ass is grass tomorrow, and your ass will get oh-so-politely mown next Thursday." She snuggled back against me. "Worth it though. Now, where were we? Oh, I know." She leaned into my neck and whispered, "You did such nice things to me a while ago, I had my hand here" -- I felt warmth cup me -- "and was telling you all the things I was going to do to your body in the dirtiest way I could."