Red – Part 1

Red [Part 1]

Just as blood can be associated either with its life-giving properties or with violence, red is also paradoxically affiliated with notions of violence, danger, and anger. Matadors use red capes not to attract the attention of the bulls they fight, since bulls are colorblind, but rather to hide the bloodstains of their gory sport. Red can indicate anger beyond what reason can contain – “seeing red” – and red flags indicate, or should indicate, when something is wrong with a person or a situation. Red is assertive, daring, determined, energetic, powerful, enthusiastic, impulsive, exciting, and aggressive. Red represents physical energy, lust, passion, and desire. It symbolizes action, confidence, and courage. The color red is linked to the most primitive physical, emotional, and financial needs of survival and self-preservation.

Red stands for many things, all of them potent. Red is romantic love, and its physical passion. Red is violence, anger, and aggression, and it frequently indicates danger. Paradoxically for a color associated with action and energy, red is universally used as the color that means “stop.” Red is used professionally to capture attention, elicit emotion, and convey confidence. We think of vitality, the life-giving power of blood, and helping people in need. We give red roses when we’re in love, and call simply outstanding experiences “red letter days.” Red calls us to action, gets us motivated, and wearing red lets people know we feel confident and ready to take on the world. Red is also associated with luxury, it has a strong masculine energy and represents power and courage. They say that red is the first color that the human eye can perceive upon birth, next to black and white.

Manhattan, December 22th, 2005

The jeweler moved to the side and I was forced to glance at my own reflection in the long and narrow mirror behind her back. Quite frankly, it was something that I wished I didn’t have to do. I was ready to be startled by what I saw, like it had happened countless times over the past year or so, but it didn’t happen. And that was what surprised me the most.

The man I saw in the mirror was way more similar to the guy I used to know before my entire world – the way I had known it – crumbled. At the same time, he looked different. And he was. I had changed – finally, painfully, inevitably.

Today, I looked almost like myself, only older. Elegant, gentleman-ish, kind and demure. I was, however, none worse for the wear. And I was afraid everyone could see behind the collected facade, built layer upon layer of perfect suits, beautiful ties, flawless vests, classy shirts, luxurious details. The beautiful empty box. Or emptied.

I wore photochromic glasses that day. Not only because my sight had never been that great to begin with and only recently I had started to accept it as an inevitable fact of life, but also because my eyes were often gaping wounds and I needed to protect myself somehow. And yet, something looked different.

There was some sort of determination there that I had not seen in quite some time, and I knew it was because of what I was doing. Whether the final result would be what I hoped for, or a last goodbye. That, I didn’t know yet.

“White or yellow?”

The jeweler was a beautiful lady in her late thirties and I was glad to notice that she wasn’t looking at me as if I was some kind of monster. The media had indeed done a pretty good job in depicting me for what I had never been, but sure I was glad the trick hadn’t worked with everyone. Or so I hoped. And if the lady did think that I was a monster, I hoped I wouldn’t be able to see it.

“Mr. Jackson?”

I blinked, realizing that I had spaced out for a moment. Yeah… that was something else I was getting used to, as of late. Focusing had become one of the hardest tasks. Funny, considering that never before I had experienced that issue. But things changed. So much, and so quick. The doctors had said it was because of my PTSD, together with my insomnia, intrusive recollections of the events, flashbacks, avoidance of places and people and, of course, anxiety alternated to emotional numbness.

“Pardon?”

The lady smiled, a bit tentatively.

“I asked you if you prefer white gold or yellow gold.” She cocked her head to a side and I started to wonder if she thought I had some screws loose. If I acted or seemed slightly mentally ill. “For the ring.”

I cleared my throat.

“That’s an interesting question I had not even thought about. I only had the stone in mind.”

“A red diamond.”

“Or more than one, yes. As long as the diamond is the focal point, I’m ready to consider everything.”

This time, her smile looked way more relaxed.

“Well, then… In that case, I might have something worthy of some consideration. Is the ring meant to celebrate a particular occasion?”

“Ah… I don’t know yet.”

Her eyes narrowed and this time she laughed, briefly.

“…I understand. Please, come with me?”

I had chosen the diamond because I knew it could be red, obviously. And red had always been a favorite color of mine. Only, the meaning of that color had changed through the years, pretty much like everything else about me. It used to signify creativity, vitality, vigor, and my constant, intense need to forge ahead no matter what. Or who. Red was a reminder for me move forward, always, in spite of everything and everyone.

A storm of stinky manure had to rain upon me before I started to reconsider my decisions, the people I surrounded myself with, and the people I had lost in my mad dash to… I didn’t even know where. I thought I was at a constant stop-over, engines roaring, instead of realizing that at one point in my life I had reached my destination. That I could settle down somehow.

In the past couple of years, red had become the color of blood. Blood draining from me, leaving me hollow and cold. Dead inside. I knew it was nothing but a self-preservation mechanism, but it had chipped at me and at one point I was nothing but the pieces of the man I used to be. I had dreamed of blood so many times during the trial, that at this point I had lost count. Blood leaving my body, blood covering the people I loved. My mother. My kids. Lisa. Dying or dead – all of them. Or screaming at me in my nightmares, because I was the one dying or dead. I would always wake up bathed in sweat and almost unable to breathe, fearing my heart would explode.

Now, however, as I followed the kind jeweler in another room – where they likely kept their most expensive pieces – I looked totally in control. It didn’t matter how much red I saw if only I closed my eyes. And almost out of my own volition, I started to think that maybe a gem would be able to exorcise my damnation. Fight fire with fire. Perhaps if I gifted the right person with the red, it would go back at being what it used to be. Or lose its power altogether. Maybe I would finally stop bleeding. I had never really believed in that crap, but at this point it was a good option as any.

The moment I followed the lady into the backroom and observed her as she opened the safe hidden behind a sliding panel cleverly positioned against the wall, the deja-vu became too intense and too realistic to be ignored. I had lived a similar experience before, eleven years earlier. Back then, however, the ring I had planned to buy was very different. Hell, everything was different back then! My hopes, my certainties, my plans. And above all, my future.

“White or yellow?”

“You mean the gold part?”

“Yes, Mr. Jackson, for the shank. Did you have anything specific in mind?”

“Oh! Yeah. Of course. No, no gold. I was thinking… Platinum.”

Back then, the jeweler I was dealing with was an old man with a terrific mustache. He had stared at me knowingly for a moment, then he had nodded his head.

“Excellent choice, sir. Especially given the size of the white diamond you have chosen.”

“Indeed! The bigger, the better.”

“Your lady will love it, Mr. Jackson.”

Well, I had learned that, sometimes, bigger didn’t necessarily equate to better. And sure as hell Lisa would have loved a plastic ring just the same. It was the man putting it on her finger, that made all the difference in the world to her. The arrogance and self-assurance I had felt back then hadn’t disappeared despite what had been happening to me at the time. Now, those feelings were no longer there. They had turned into a quiet observation of my past behaviors. Into awareness and maybe, hopefully, maturity. Too bad it was too late and Lisa wasn’t having any of it any longer.

Well, worst-case scenario, she’d have another diamond. Red. Like the color I saw every time I closed my eyes.

The kids were still in Oman. I was glad that my mother and Rebbie had decided to fly over and take care of them as I returned to the States, quietly, to take care of a few things that I had left pending – and which I would have rather preferred to see vanish into thin air. I missed my babies, but I needed to be alone for a while and sort this stuff out on my own before flying back on time for Christmas. I also needed time to regroup and, this time, my temporary loneliness was chosen, at least. Not imposed.

The first nuisance I had to deal with had been the court hearing in Deb’s children visitation rights case in L.A. – because my second ex-wife just would not relent. She would not give up. I know what she wanted – it was money. As usual. And she would end up having it, no doubt. Not a chance in hell I would take part in the hearing personally, but one of my associates had been there on my behalf while I flew over to New York City.

Meanwhile, I had come to know that Lisa was also in NYC for some business meetings regarding her father’s estate, and that she was supposed to stay in the Big Apple at least for two or three days before going back to Los Angeles. Even more interestingly, she was there alone – no weird fiance in tow. Which was great, and also made me wonder if there was some trouble in paradise after all.

Of course, I had heard the rumors, and I had read about them in the press. It looked like Lisa was planning to get married to that blond fool. Which sounded a bit like a knee-jerk reaction to me, given the timing, but who was I to ruin the party? To shit on her parade? Maybe I should have rented a giant blimp, shaped like a butt and then flown above said parade. And finally proceeded to take the biggest, metaphorical dump on everyone involved.

But no, that wasn’t my style at all. Although the old Michael would have found the idea hilariously sick, the new Michael had been planning something else entirely. Some sort of make it or break it situation. The only issue had been to find a way to force Lisa to stay in New York just a little longer than planned.

I had told nobody about what I had in mind, except for the person who was going to help me put Lisa exactly where I wanted her to be. Other than that, no-one knew, just in the event everything went very, very bad. In that case, I was ready to go back to Oman and pretend nothing of this had ever happened. And Lisa… well, she would be living her life in the way she deemed appropriate.

All of this was bittersweet in the saddest possible way. Only a couple of years ago, I would have never doubted that she would come back to me. I knew where she stood and I knew where her heart was. It didn’t matter how many times she stomped her foot, bitched or nagged at me. It didn’t even matter how many times we would break up. At the end of the day, Lisa would always choose me. And perhaps I had taken advantage of that fact without even realizing it. Maybe she was right when she told me that I was taking her for granted – but of course, I had never acknowledge that. My stringing her along, stalling, making her feel as if she had to undergo some weird test – when I was the one feeling I could not pass the exam. I was the most insecure one, after all.

And then at one point, when I was finally sure I was ready, she was not. Well… Not anymore.

My mistake has been speaking to her over the phone, right after the trial. Bad, bad idea. It had been so easy for Lisa to cower and take shelter, and say to me what likely was not as accurate and linear as she made it out to be. Not for a second I thought it would be best for us both if I had met her in person, taken her hands into mine and told her everything I had come to realize as I sat in that damn court room, having my personal life dissected bit after bit. I was way too drained and taking my phone instead of my car had seemed the best option… Mainly because I was so afraid she would see me as the weak and pathetic man I felt I had become.

Once again, I had not put her into the equation properly.

Her response had been unexpected – at least for the state I was in at the time. Now I knew I could have foreseen it and prevented it. Because everything was always clearer and easier in retrospect.

I remembered that, at first, I was way too shocked to react. That word – indifferent – had felt like a slap in the face, the umpteenth. Then it occurred to me that what she had said and done could not be compared to the way so many other people had behaved. All of them, none excluded, had walked away because it was beneficial, convenient for them, and they had taken something belonging to me in return. My money, my reputation. While Lisa… She had walked away because she was exhausted and terrified we would fail again, and she had lost something in the process. She had stepped away in self-preservation. Of course, my heart too had been broken, but I knew her – I knew that she had been hurting for a very long time. It was a subtle, and yet monumental difference that I had come to understand in the months that followed that inane phone call.

Having the chance to turn back time, I wished I hadn’t been so scared and apathetic after my divorce from Deb. I wish I had taken Lisa to South Africa and married her again. I knew that was what she had been expecting and also what we deserved. And I also knew that the very concept of marriage had lost all appeal for me, in the meantime. It had become nothing but another business deal.

Now I was back, I had a plan, and that last phone call didn’t really matter that much in the grand scheme of things. Either Lisa decided to stay or go, she would know, without a shred of a doubt, where I stood and how I felt about her. And more than anything, she would see that I was ready to listen, if only she decided she wanted me to know something I hadn’t grasped, yet.

Something. Anything.

I glanced at my watch. Good – I was right on time. I just had to choose the perfect ring, and then the small security detail I had with me would drive me where I needed to be.

Balthazar Restaurant, Manhattan

“Well, I gotta say, you look way too tense for a business meeting, Leish.”

“What do you mean? It’s perfectly normal to be a bit nervous when it comes to business.” From across the small, round table, Alecia sipped her green tea in the most inconspicuous manner and glanced up at me. I narrowed my eyes.

“Leish…”

“Uhum?”

“What the fuck is going on?”

She raised an eyebrow at me, interrogatively, making me snort.

Hey, I had to ask! My gut feeling told me that my dear friend Alecia was hiding something from me. I just had to find out what it was. And why she was not telling me about it. Christmas present, maybe? Christmas surprise? If that was the case, I sure hoped it would be something nice.

When she had asked me to stay in New York longer than I had initially planned, and meet her for a possible business deal, at first I had just been only mildly interested. I had plans at home and I needed a solid reason to postpone them. Of course, Alecia and I had already worked together before and I had loved every minute of it. But what had put me off a little was the fact that, allegedly, she had now been summoned in the Big Apple to discuss a possible collaboration with a third artist. A fucking third wheel.

And that, well… I didn’t know if I was up to it. Not right now at least. Normally, it wouldn’t have been a problem – a challenge was something I was ready to face and, in the past couple of years, music had somehow become my escape from all the shit that had been going on. Mainly my final breakup with Michael.

While on the outside I looked all cool and collected, inside the story was quite different. I just had learned to rein over the storm within, and to reverberate it only into my songs. I would not allow a single drop to spill outside of those lyrics and music. And so when Alecia had told me that I was a spoilsport, and that maybe there was a rock’n’roll version of Lady Marmalade and some glitzy performance waiting for us and I should have been excited to find out who wanted to collaborate with us, she had successfully managed to guilt-trip me into the current meeting.

The truth was that I wasn’t even remotely interested in anything new at the moment. My album was out and that was more than enough for me. The whole creative process had exhausted me. The last year or so had been draining for me too, it didn’t matter how good of a facade I put up in public. And now that Michael had left the country, and I didn’t know if he would ever be back, I had to find my axis again. Some semblance of balance. I was somehow calmer, but I also knew I was adrift.

Resuming life has if he had never been a part of it wasn’t as easy as it sounded, even though most of the time mother, the church and even my new fiance were good enough to drag me into a lot of stuff that kept my mind away from the man I was slowly learning to fall out of love with.

More than anything, I had to keep repeating to myself that I was doing just that: falling out of love with Michael. The more I convinced myself of it, the better I would be.

And why was he even on my mind at all, by the way? Of course, our last phone call, a few months earlier, had been as painful as eviscerating ourselves with a spoon, but it was a done deal. I knew him – Michael was always capable of bouncing back and, eventually, he was going to be just fine. He had left for the Middle East and, at least according to the pictures I saw on the internet and on the magazines, he was doing just splendid on his own. Having a good ole time without his stupid, stubborn ex-wife. He didn’t need me. Hell, probably he never had really needed me at all, as sure as fuck I was never enough. Best case scenario, I had been a good lay.

“Lisa? Are you of this world?”

“Probably not.”

Putting down my cup of tea, I suddenly wondered if it wouldn’t have been better if I had ordered something different. Like, maybe, a vodka and tonic. But it was four in the afternoon and the last thing I or Leish needed was for me to show up at a business meeting smelling like booze and desperation.

“I was telling you that I’m glad I can finally see you – without, you know, Michael.”

The mere mention of his name caused all my muscles to tense. And my stomach to drop.

“What? Why would you mention him? What does Michael have to do with us hanging out?”

Alecia scanned my eyes as if wondering if I was high.

“Eh… I meant Lockwood.”

Oh. She meant Lockwood.

“Of course. You were talking about Lucky.”

She laughed.

“Oh, right… I had forgotten your pet name for your fiance makes him sound like a Labrador.” Then she winked at me. “Well, but it makes sense, doesn’t it. I mean, with the blond mane and all. Does he fetch?”

I gasped, feigning shock. When, deep inside, I was struggling very hard not to burst out laughing. Because it wasn’t that Alecia was completely wrong. Yeah – a part of me was so insensitive. I was such a bitch after all.

“That was so uncalled for, Leish…”

“Not my fault that Michael has become Lucky, while the other Michael has become… the unmentionable one, I guess.”

“It’s not that he can’t be brought up. It’s just that it’s…” Painful. “…Pointless. I mean. He’s safe, he’s free, he’s good and now has relocated in a wonderful country. Did you know that Oman is warm even during the winter? Sunny all year-round.”

“Well… It kinda makes sense it is. Why did you check the Oman climate, again?”

I just shrugged, playing with my cup and intensely staring at it. That was some fine-ass red porcelain. Very interesting. I refrained myself from telling Leish that Michael hated the cold and that there wasn’t any other reason in the world to scan the internet to find out all about the country he now lived in. Other than to feel closer to him without actually being close to him, of course.

I kept my poker face in place, even though Alecia was very much capable to see beyond appearances. Well, she’d have to deal with it. She would have to understand that my charade had a purpose: survival. Not only for me, but for Michael as well. Together, we were as intense as we could be self-destructive. And our timing had always sucked. Maybe it was time to break the wheel and see if things could get better if we finally managed to cut the rope and go our own separate ways. And not just sorta-kinda, like we were accustomed to. Forever.

I sighed. Why did “forever” sound like a horrible word all of a sudden?

“I see. And you don’t miss him at all. Like… not one bit.” Alecia took another sip of her green tea. Her grey eyes scanning me, making me feel vulnerable and safe at the same time. But not secure enough to admit the truth. Which was that I would always, always miss Michael. Even when I didn’t show it.

“I moved on. We both did.”

There, diplomatic response. And a non-response at the same time.

She stayed quiet, as if she could see through my bluff. However, I had to admit that she was right about something. I, too, was glad that she and I were in New York on our own, without our men. The relationship I had with Lockwood was nothing like the one I had with Michael. Back then, I could barely breathe when he was away, I needed to be around him, his presence, his aura. I knew he would feel smothered at times, but there was a duplicity, an ambiguity in him too. He craved regular time for himself, but whenever I wasn’t around he would always become insecure. Just like me. What a son of a bitch motherfucking mess of a relationship we had. So beautiful, and yet so painful.

Lucky was different. He was compliant to all my demands, even a little too much at times. My mother adored him, and she never stopped gushing over him and reminding me how perfect he was for me. At times I thought that maybe she should have married him. But I was way too battered emotionally to disenfranchise myself from the whole situation. Gone was the time when I would stomp my feet and try to make things happen the way I wanted them to be. Right now, I just allowed things to happen to me and around me, not necessarily because of my active, personal decisions. The lethal concoction of self-punishment and self-preservation was a beast with a thousand teeth – all sharp, all very much capable to draw blood. And also perfect for an ear to ear, sardonic smile. Just to confuse the shit out of everyone looking at the monster. Friend of foe?

Well, the upside was that, at least, I was Lockwood’s focal point. Not a guest star on the sidelines. I no longer felt like a piece of furniture for sure. I no longer had to wait for my partner to come back home to me – the last bullet point in his list – as I molded my life to fit his. After all, my breakup with Michael had a lot to do with my current inability to adapt, and his inability to walk with me instead of ahead of me. I was tired. And Lucky did not exhaust me.

“Well, as long as you’re happy with your decision, I’m with you. But girlfriend, if you’re not – if you’re not happy and you’re just bullshitting yourself, don’t expect me to vet that crap or pretend it ain’t there. Just give me the time to really understand what the heck it is that you’re doing, and then I’ll decide what my stance is going to be.”

I had to laugh.

“Gosh, you make it sound so…”

“Terrifying?”

“Tempting.”

As in: maybe I needed someone to call me out, to see my bluff for what it really was. And if it was a safe person, like Alecia, even better. As long as it wasn’t Mike. He didn’t need to see. He didn’t need to know.

I knew I had hurt him. That darn telephone had been a shield I could hide behind and not show Michael how his pain had cut me deep enough to sever my nerves and chip at the bones. But I knew him. He would move on and hopefully be happy. Without me. There was too much baggage between us. And it was a heavy ass one.

The only thing I had to learn was not to bleed out every time I realized that maybe I was never going to see him again. Hold him again, kiss him again, tell him that…

Alecia put the cup down and stared straight at me.

“Hey. You know what? It’s getting late. And it’s getting dark. Grab your trolley, Lise. I think we better get going. We don’t wanna be late for our meeting, do we?”

Thank God for Leish’s timing.

“Of course not.”

“Ah… and remind me once again why you brought your trolley with you.”

“Because I’m not going back to our hotel, later. I told you. I’m flying back to LA.”

“So you’re telling me that there’s no way I can keep you here with me for another day or two?”

“Yep, exactly. No way.”

Alecia stood up.

“Fair enough. Let’s enjoy this last afternoon together, then.”

I exhaled a sigh of relief. This French bistro, with its dimmed out reddish lights and secluded corners, was way too romantic not to make me think how nice it would have been to spend some time here with someone I loved. And not as a friend. And as much as I adored Leish, at that moment I thought that hauling ass and let the freezing cold of the city slap me out of my stupidity would be the best idea. Just like focusing on something else. A business deal, for example.

It was time to dance.

Four Seasons Hotel Downtown, Manhattan – Presidential Suite

Forty minutes later, Leish and I were sitting in the living area of the Presidential Suite, at the Four Seasons Hotel. And this time we were sipping a glass of white wine – because why the fuck not. A drink had become kinda necessary the moment we had realized that the manager we were supposed to meet with was either late – best-case scenario – or not going to show up at all. The last thing I needed so close to Christmas was to have left my kids at home for a fucking prank.

“Leish, are you sure this was the place where we were supposed to meet with your guy?”

I had already asked her once, but it would not hurt to hear her say it again. Because if Alecia – who was notoriously messy and scatterbrained at times, just like my second ex-husband – had scribbled down the wrong address, there would be no collaboration or business deal in sight. And she and I were currently looking like a couple of fools, holed up in the suite of one of the most exclusive hotels in town. That, if all this wasn’t a joke, of course.

“Lisa – calm down! Like I said, this was definitely the place. No doubt about that. The guy is a mega-manager from a record label, where did you expect him to meet us? At the hot dog cart down there?” She tilted her head in the direction of the huge windows facing the city. I had no idea what hot dog cart she was talking about, but I surely got the gist. Those things were everywhere in New York.

“And we’re not paying for this…”

I knew it didn’t sound like a question.

She laughed.

“No, thrifty. We aren’t. He is paying for everything… So we better take full advantage of it.” She got up from the plush couch we were sitting on and walked behind it, toward the round table facing the spectacular Manhattan skyline. “Let me check my phone, just in case he sent me a message… or something…”

I heard her tinker with her purse and whisper something under her breath.

“Oh, damn…”

“What’s going on?”

“OK… Seems like our dude got stuck in traffic. I have no idea what the heck is doing, but apparently he’s still in the Upper East Side. He says he’ll be here in about an hour, maybe less, if he can make it.”

“What?!?” I turned around and Leish just shrugged her shoulders. “What the fuck? No way. That’s unacceptable. I’m outta here.”

“Lisa! Please. Why are you so impatient? Traffic jams are the norm in this city.”

“I know, that’s exactly the point.” I too rose from the couch and glanced around. I couldn’t remember where I had left my purse. “He should have known. This is so rude! Look – he can’t keep us here for about two hours. He’s already late. And I should already be home. I’m gonna take a cab and go the airport.”

“No, wait a second…” Alecia wasn’t having any of it. She really seemed to care about this meeting. Damn! She walked up to me and cocked her head to a side, staring at me in the eyes. “I know you don’t like it when people are late. I am sorry. But I really, really want to hear what he has to say. Do you think you can do me this favor and just… you know, wait like you would do if you weren’t in such a rotten mood?”

She was struggling to hide a chuckle and that made me snort, even though I rolled my eyes.

“I am not in a rotten mood! I just am not planning to spend Christmas in this city – I wanna fly back to LA. But anyway… fine. OK. I’ll stay. But just because I love you…” I pointed a finger at her. “And just because everyone is supposed to on their best behavior.”

“Even you.”

“Even me.” I sat back down on the couch and took off my shoes. “Fucking hell.”

Alecia laughed this time.

“Yeah, you’re definitely on your best behavior today. Look, I’ll tell you what. I’m gonna head back down and grab a couple of hot dogs from that cart we were talking about. You forced me to think about that stuff, and now I’m hungry. And since we gotta wait, still…”

“Hey, we can ask someone from the hotel staff to bring those things up here.”

But of course, trying to stop Leish when she had her mind set up on something was totally pointless. That was why she was already putting her coat back on.

“Nonsense. I’m going down. I’ll smoke a cigarette and get a couple of those yummy puppies. Mustard?”

“Just ketchup. Well, but if you’re having a smoke, then I’m coming with you.”

“Not a chance. You quit. I know you tend to forget, but…” She wrapped her long scarf around her neck and looked down at me. “…I’m here to remind you, oh shoeless one. Just stay there, relax, and I’ll be back in ten. ‘Kay?”

Raking my fingers through my hair, I leaned back into the couch with an exasperated sigh. My neck was stiff and Leish was right. I was nervous and stressed out, and I didn’t even know why. Frustration, tension, or maybe just the fact that I felt like I was wasting my time and I wanted to be home with Ri and Ben. Cooking gingerbread and sipping hot chocolate and trying to forget that, for the first time, I had no idea what the heck Michael was doing. And who with. This meeting in New York had been the worst idea ever, and not only because Mike and I had spent some unforgettable moments staring at this same exact skyline. From our apartment at the Trump Towers. Our refuge when we didn’t want to be bothered.

Intense exhaustion assaulted me and, all of a sudden, Leish’s idea sounded wonderful. I couldn’t deal with facing the city at the moment. I needed some quiet time.

“Alright. But please come back soon, OK?”

I reached out and grabbed her gloved hand and Alecia squeezed my fingers. She smiled at me.

“Don’t worry. I won’t give you the chance to miss me. Don’t empty that bottle without me.”

A minute later, she was out of the door. And I immediately felt like the last person left on Earth.

I was fidgeting, which was strange, as if anything, in the past year or so I had very much learned to be in control of my own emotions and reactions more than I had ever been in my entire life. The false allegations – extortion attempt – leveled at me had jolted me back to complete lucidity after a couple of years that, in my memory, were nothing but a messy blur.

That crap had forced me to realize that my dependency from painkillers had gotten way out of hand. And I knew that, for a long time, I had not been in the right state of mind to fully realize it.

The accident in Munich had been the inevitable starting point. The necessity of being back on track in zero time had been the very short fuse to my dynamite. Everything else had pretty much unraveled by itself. Lisa and I had been going through our worst low ever since the time of our separation, during the divorce proceedings. Me being not entirely myself all the time had made everything worse. I knew she had ended up in my bed several times during that time, but I couldn’t understand why she would always leave afterward.

Now, finally, I did. It had taken a lot of time and effort, for me, to see things with a clarity that I knew I had never had before. But I understood. I knew I had ended up in bed with a bunch of other women. Women that didn’t matter and whose names and faces I couldn’t even remember. I know they weren’t important for me, but I couldn’t see how my behavior was hurting the only girl I truly loved. The girl I was punishing without even realizing it. The girl who was also punishing me.

We had loved each other so much and hurt each other a lot. I used to think the hurt overcame the love, both in quantity and quality, but I was wrong about that as well. Nothing could go beyond the intensity and the beauty of what Lisa and I had shared – and that was something that nobody would ever take away from me. Or Lisa, for that matter. Whether this freezing day in New York turned out as the beginning or the end of everything.

Maybe me feeling insecure was what kept me on edge, as I waited for Alecia to appear. I knew she was here with Lisa, only a few steps away from me, and I knew she would soon be at my doorstep. I had heard her and Lisa enter the suite – they were talking and laughing together, so it was hard not to. Lisa sounded in a good mood, at least on the surface, and yet my sixth sense detected something lying beneath. A bitterness, a loneliness that I had learned to identify all too well in the past few years. When she would pretend that everything was fine when, in fact, it wasn’t. We had become slaves and masters of our own pain, like two maestros directing an orchestra of tears, insecurity, fear and resentment.

In the past couple of years, our moments of absolute peace and solace had been as rare as water in the desert. Long gone were the days of complete comfort and trust. Those times when being together, for me and Lisa, meant feeling utterly safe. Protected from whoever and whatever wanted to hurt us. Long gone were the days when we were our best allies. Of course, we had never been enemies, and in the grand scheme of things Lisa’s temper tantrums had never mattered much to me. I knew she was hurting. We just had different ways to express our frustration.

But I did miss her vulnerability. And not the one that took the shape of those sharp words and that acerbic rage she would sometimes throw at me. I missed the soft defenselessness she would display years ago, whenever we were together. Either when we were just partners, or husband and wife or yes, even lovers. After our divorce. Back then, we would have spent a day like this one holed up here in New York, because nothing could compare to Christmas in this city. We would have observed the Brooklyn Bridge from out apartment. She would have stood in front of the huge windows facing the city as the sky took that pinkish hue that accompanied the evening. I could easily imagine her wrapped in a soft bathrobe, her skin soft and smelling like flowers. And I could easily imagine myself walking up behind her, closing my arms around her lithe frame and pulling her into me. Feeling her adhere to my body and my soul as I rested my chin on her shoulder, trying to see what her eyes saw, the way they saw it. The world through Lisa’s eyes.

We were so trusting, back then. Or so I thought.

At this point, I couldn’t even tell if what was in my mind was a memory or a fantasy. However, I could easily picture Lisa turning her head ever so slightly. The intensity of her blue-green eyes startling me, as usual. Hooded and heavy lidded, a perfect mixture between seduction and playfulness.

And I could almost feel her lips, because I had kissed them countless times and I knew everything about their texture, their warmth, and their taste. I knew all about the way she would sigh against my kiss, reciprocating it. About her hand coming up, touching my hair, the side of my face with a gentleness and a care that always managed to make me bleed inside.

I closed my eyes for a moment and everything I saw was red.

Even though my skin tingled, the delay in my neuronal processes kept my nerve endings still entangled in that synergy between experience and hope. Still reliving that feeling of completeness, togetherness that came when she and I were truly united, inside and out. With each other, and sometimes against pretty much everyone else. My eyes were closed and I could almost feel her writhe and shiver against me as I made love to her, and yet all I saw was red.

It shook me to the core. The depth of it all. I wondered what my life would be from now on. If a constant replaying of what had been, what could not be, and what might have been, or an actual road directed toward the future. I wondered if, despite all the miles I had traversed through all my life, in the end I was right back where I had started after all.

In place where everything had become red, and red had changed its meaning. From vitality and determination to everything that had come to signify now. Danger. Fear. Hurt. Wrath. Longing.

Checking myself one last time in the mirror, wondering if she would find a trace of the man I used to be in my eyes, I once again patted the small pocket of my jacket. Everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. I had no idea what for.

Then someone knocked at the door and I closed my eyes again for a moment. This time the feeling was different from what I had just experienced. It was the reality of it all reeling me back to a world I no longer belonged to. At the same time, the long hours I had spent in this suite, waiting for the dances to begin, had pushed me into a never-ending replay of my plan. A plan that, all of a sudden, didn’t seem so smart anymore. Quite the opposite, in fact. Maybe I was getting it all wrong, once again.

In light of my new epiphany, how was I going to navigate this? How was I going to tell Alecia – who I had convinced to take part in this – that perhaps cornering Lisa here, deceiving her, had been the wrong call?

I knew Leish was behind that door, and I knew I could not delay the inevitable any longer.

I walked over to the door, opening it, and she entered the room glancing behind her back like a ninja. It made me smile.

“Are you nuts?”

Why was she whispering?

I closed the door behind my back, paying attention to do it quietly.

“Why? What have I done?”

“I had no idea your suite was on the same darn floor! What if she came out?”

“Well, but she didn’t.” I leaned against the back of the couch. “You can speak normally. She won’t hear us.”

Gosh, she looked distressed. I was sorry I had involved her in this, but the way I had seen it at first, Alecia indeed was my last hope. I could have asked Janet, but Lisa would have smelled the rat right away. It would have never worked.

Alecia was different – Lisa trusted her. And I surely hoped she would trust her again once she found out who the secret manager that was supposed to meet her in the Presidential Suite was. I had to admit, maybe the location was a bit grandiose, but I had wanted to talk to Lisa in a quiet, private and comfortable setting. And as much as I would have preferred to meet her at our old apartment at the Trump Tower, I was sure that she wouldn’t have taken that bait either.

“We don’t have much time. She’s waiting for me to come back with the hot dogs.”

I scrunched my forehead.

“What hot dogs?”

“Never mind. Are you ready? Fuck, she’s gonna chew my face once she finds out.”

I shook my head.

“No, she won’t. How is this your fault, Alecia?”

“Well – She’s here because of me.”

“All of this has nothing to do with you. If anything, she has all the right to be very, very mad at me.”

Which was true. So far I had tried to pretend how cornering Lisa in this hotel without offering her an out was, after all, my way to lend her an olive branch. My peace offer. The feeling had already been hard enough to rein over the longer I mulled the whole matter on my own. The lone captain in the metaphorical storm. But now, with Alecia standing right in front of me, looking genuinely upset and not at all proud of what we had been doing, the sensation had become more than tangible.

“Michael?”

I realized that I had spaced out. Again.

“What?”

“I said, Lisa will go off like a rocket the moment she sees you. Unless you manage to exhaust her. I mean, can you do that, Michael? Girlfriend looks like she hasn’t gotten laid good in quite some time, anyway.”

I winced. I knew she was trying to make light of the situation, but still…

“Ah… Can we not?”

“Alright, alright, sorry… I forgot you’re a sensitive guy.” Alecia took a deep breath. “OK, what am I supposed to do now?”

I was confused.

“I don’t know. Weren’t you talking about… ah… hot dogs?”

That part wasn’t really clear yet.

“Don’t worry about the hot dogs. It’s a long story. But you know what? I think I should have taken the wine bottle with me. God, I’m so fucking tense, it’s not even funny.”

I decided that I would not inquire her about food any further.

“Hey, the bar is packed… Make yourself comfortable. Of course, you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. But you can.”

“Nah, no way. This whole thing is making me anxious. I’m gonna call Carey and have him pick me up. And then wait at my hotel, just in case Lisa needs me. But I don’t wanna stay in your suite. Sorry, Mike.”

“No, it’s OK. But you don’t have to call Carey. If you wanna leave now, my guys can take you wherever you need to go. I don’t need any security detail right now.”

She gazed up at me, her eyes laughing sarcastically.

“Are you sure? You might even need a paramedic once Lisa finds out you’re here. Damn, Michael. Tell me why I agreed to do this, again.”

“Because you wanted to help us.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Goddamn it. I’m not so sure anymore. She’s not in a great mood, Michael. Like… Not at all. And I think she knows something is wrong.”

“Well, I’ll try to make it right, I promise. And yeah, I’m not surprised.”

“About what? That she isn’t buying this whole meeting thing or that she’s in a bad mood?”

“Neither.”

Something was wrong.

Checking my watch, I noticed that Leish had left about ten minutes earlier and still I couldn’t hear a thing. I didn’t think grabbing a couple of hot dogs from a cart would take long, but the point was that part of me didn’t believe she was grabbing hot dogs at all. I didn’t know what it was, but something in this whole situation smelled fishy. I was tense and on edge and, as I tried to listen to the noises coming from the corridor – the non-noises, to be honest, as everything was eerily quiet – I found myself imagining all the possible scenarios.

Maybe Alecia had summoned me here because she and Lockwood had a surprise party ready for me. But no, it didn’t make any sense whatsoever.

Maybe she was being late because she was on the phone with her fiance, Carey – and that was the reason she wasn’t back yet. Smooth and simple.

Or maybe Alecia had met the mysterious manager downstairs, in the hall of the hotel, and now they were coming up together. Hey, who the hell knew. Perhaps the guy had taken a helicopter and it had taken him twenty minutes instead of sixty to be only slightly late to this fabulous pre-Christmas meeting.

Yeah… not likely.

At this point, I was at my second glass of wine and I still felt pretty good. Not tipsy at all, just a tiny bit less inclined to tolerate whatever bullshit would come my way. I was on edge and totally prepared for whatever was about to happen.

And yet, despite everything – despite my emotional walls, despite the scars and the state of alert I was reveling into – I realized that the only thing I was totally unprepared to, was to hear someone knocking at the door. Especially because Alecia had her magnetic card to get in and she didn’t need to knock at all.

I walked over to the hallway, and I couldn’t hear anything. But I did see the note, carefully folded, that someone had slid under the door. My instinct told me that maybe, if I was quick enough, I could open the darn door and find out who was trying to hide from me, but the truth was that I couldn’t. The note had stopped me cold – because there was only one person in the world who was inclined to do this kind of crap. And it wasn’t Alecia, nor Lucky.

Swallowing, I took the note from the floor and unfolded it. I recognized the handwriting right away and I had to close my eyes for a second, bracing myself for the emotional impact of it all.

When I opened them again, the words were there.

“Lisa,
I had initially planned to just enter your suite and have you face me. Now I realize, it was a stupid plan.
Please don’t be mad at Alecia. She just wanted to help me, and I kind of nagged her to death to convince her. She didn’t even want to, at first.
But I had time to think about this, today, and about some things, maybe she was right.
You have waited for me for so long in the past, and the only thing I want to do now is waiting for you. You have adapted so much to my needs, and now I want to do the same for you.
I will be in the Manhattan Suite until tomorrow morning, and I’ll be waiting for you. We are on the same floor, my suite is facing yours. If you ever want to see me, that is.

Love,
Michael”