Imperfect Truth(52)

Just the word baby instantly calms me, but I need more, so much more. I’m like a crack addict, looking for my next fix. As low as Ryder brings me, it’s the highs from when he shows me that one ounce of interest, and nothing, nothing at all, could compete with that feeling. I’m chasing that feeling constantly, and like any good addict, I know if I stick around long enough, it’s sure to pay off.



ME: Where you are. Not hearing from you is killing me. I’m worried about you. I miss you.

Ryder: Thank you baby, I miss you too, I’m killing myself over here, but almost done. Just need one more thing, and it’s all over. Soon baby. Just be patient with me. I miss you.



His words have lured me in, and now he holds me captive, completely enthralled.



I HAVEN’T SEEN Alexandre all day. I’ve been hiding in our bedroom. He’s taken refuge in the living room. My brain is scattered. My thoughts drift between Ryder and my mom. She is getting worse every day, her condition pressing on me. Alexandre chooses this very moment to stroll into my safe space.

“Don’t forget we have dinner tonight.” His body is tense. “Ava, in light of what’s going on, I know dinner isn’t ideal. But my father is in town and plans were already made.” I nod my head still lost in my prior thoughts, then finally ask.

"Where were you before?” He squints at me as I speak, his gaze still raw. He speaks through clenched teeth.

“I was watching TV.”

“I called your name. I needed to speak to you.”

“I didn’t hear you, hence why I didn’t answer. Why didn’t you come find me? What did you need to talk about?” I look at him in disbelief, his apathetic attitude causing me to pause. He’s right. Why didn’t I go find him?

“I wanted to discuss my mother. She is getting worse every day, and I wonder if home care is still the right option for her?” Pain creeps out of me, unraveling the threads of what was barely holding me together. I bite back the sob that is forming. “I wanted to talk about what we should do with her?” My eyes tear but are quickly replaced by emptiness. Thinking of our options is too much to handle. So I shut down. Alexandre’s face drops.

“I’m sorry Ava, had I known it was that bad, I would have been there.”

“But that’s the thing, Alex. You are never there, even when you are here…you aren’t.”

The room is eerily quiet, stifling.

I finally break the silence “Where and when tonight?” I ask.

"Babbo at 8, I’m really sorry, Av.” He stands there with his head down, hands in the pockets of his jeans. I know he is sorry, but sometimes it is too little too late.

“It’s fine.” It’s not fine, but I’m too tired to continue. Too tired to think of what that means to us. I’m just too tired, period.

Later that evening we sit in an awkward silence at a round table in Babbo. Babbo is one of the most sought after restaurants in the city. It’s often referred to as a ‘beacon of elegance.’ The room is dimly lit. Tiny votive candles are scattered across the table. In the center of the main dining room is a large elegant arrangement of white orchids. The exquisite floral art is ever-changing and created weekly by a world-renowned artist named Simone Shubuck. The restaurant is Lenore’s favorite, and as hard as it is to get into, she and Maxwell, Alexandre’s father, have a standing table when he is in town.

As we sit at the table, I break the silence and inquire about Lenore’s black linguini with squid oil. She turns to Alexandre and informs him that her meal is absolutely delicious. My mouth hangs agape as I realize I asked the question, yet she answered Alexandre. I grip my purse so tightly in my lap that my knuckles turn white. I excuse myself as politely as I can and make my way out the door, but I don’t get so far as Alexandre stops me. His voice is low and resolute.

"Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving, Alex.”

“You will not leave, Ava. You will not embarrass me like that in front of my family."

I exhale, realizing I had been holding my breath.

“Oh, I'm so sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me, where are my manners? Maybe I should be more like your mom and maybe answer the hostess instead of you.”

“Seriously I know this sucks, but can we discuss this after dinner?” He lightly takes my arm and escorts me back to the table. As we approach the table, he lets go of my arm and takes his place between his mom and I once again. And although he sits so close I can feel his arm grazing mine, I'm alone.

The rest of the meal is filled with relative silence. Maxwell does not speak. He has no time to indulge Lenore in her gossip, and he has nothing but disdain for his son. Lenore continues to ignore me. No flinches this time. Her blatant disregard of me is almost laughable...almost. Through the night I ignore her dismissal time and time again, instead I spend the evening lost in thought. Ryder, his sapphire eyes, the slight creases on his face when he smiles. His lips…oh his lips. Heaven on Earth...Ryder helps me get through dinner. Without Ryder I wouldn’t have lasted one minute, let alone one hour with Lenore, Maxwell and Alexandre. By the time dinner is over, I’ve made my decision.