Chapter Six
The Resolution
“Wow, Ororo, you look hot.” Jean said the next day at the club as she sorted through the pictures. A sea of photos spread across the bar. “I think I like this one best.”
It was a black and white picture of a sad Ororo looking out the window; her arms crossed over her bare breasts, a sheet clung loosely to her waist. It had taken them forever to get that shot because she had been bashful of being partially nude in front Joaquín. The expression hadn’t been hard to conjure up. All she did was think about every feeling she had ever reserved secretly for Logan, but the getting nude part had been a bit of an obstacle.
Remy held up a picture of her and Joaquín at the park. They were sitting on a bench. Ororo’s head was settled on Joaquín’s shoulder. He was looking down into her face, wisps of his dark hair was falling into his eyes. Someone at the park had taken that. It wasn’t posed. She had said something to him right before a kind stranger agreed to snap the picture.
In another picture Ororo had snapped him herself, he was trying to hid his face from the camera, but she had managed to get a nice picture of him with his eyes closed, smiling wide, showing off gleaming teeth. She smiled as she thought of her time with Joaquín. They had traipsed around the city like a couple of teenagers. They had snapped more pictures in fun than of her modeling.
“Remy t’ink ‘Roro done found her a new beau.” Remy said with a charming smile.
“When are you going to grow up, Remy, and start treating me like this?” Yuriko said without her usual malice. Ororo thought she had gotten over the initial disgust of being attracted to a younger man.
“Quand tu m’aimes,” he answered, kissing one of Yuriko’s hands, making his grand exit to the other end of the bar.
“She’s coverin’ up all the good parts.” Victor complained, rotating a picture as if it were supposed to give him a better view of Ororo’s goods.
“This is art, Victor, not porn.” Jean said.
“There’s a difference?” Victor asked.
“Yes, Vic. Those pictures you jack off to, you know the ones with the sleazy blondes with their fingers stuck in every hole imaginable, that’s porn, honey. This is tasteful art.” Yuriko said.
“So… that’s different from this?” Victor said.
“Yes, Vic!” Yuriko said in exasperation.
“Just wondering because either way she’s still covering up all the good shit. I have a camera at my place, Ororo. If you come over, we can make tasteful art together.” Victor teased.
She slapped Victor on the arm, and he growled at her playfully before walking off to find Mortimer. Yuriko and Jean closed ranks around Ororo. “Okay, the men are gone. What happened?” Jean asked with sly look.
“Yeah, spill the details. Is he good in bed?” Yuriko asked.
Ororo knew what they wanted to hear. They wanted to hear that Joaquín had ravished her, but that just wasn’t what happened. “I didn’t sleep with him. I barely know the man,” Ororo protested.
“That may work with everyone else, but this is us you’re talking to.” Jean said.
“Nothing happened. I promise.” Ororo insisted.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted anything to happen. It just hadn’t happened. There were a few times when he had looked so deeply into her eyes that she would swear that he could see her soul. She thought he would just take her right then and there, but it didn’t happen. He would always look away with a polite chuckle.
“So, you were alone and nearly naked with a hot, single guy with a hot accent and you didn’t even get any? Did I mention he was hot, and single, and had a hot accent?” Yuriko said.
“Ororo, what is wrong with you, girl? You were armed with the ‘cfm.’ eyes and everything. What went wrong?” Jean asked.
Ororo rolled her eyes. Jean had taught her how to make the “come fuck me” eyes. Jean said it worked on guys all the time. “Is sex all you two think about?”
Jean and Yuriko looked at each other and laughed. “Yes!” They said at the same time.
“You two are hopeless, and Jean, you’re a married woman.” Ororo said with fake shock.
“You make it sound as if I’m handicap. I’m just married, Ororo, not dead below the waist.” Jean said with a sigh.
“Well, marriage, theoretically, is a handicap, Jean. You have to be faithful to one man the rest of your life or at least until the divorce settlement comes in.” Yuriko said and shuddered.
“Says who?” Jean said with a sparkle in her eye.
“Jean! You’re not cheating on Scott.” Ororo said. She had reasons to believe that Jean was cheating on Scott with a certain surly bartender, but it was still a shock to hear her admit it in so many words. Okay, maybe she was overreacting. Technically, Jean hadn’t admitted to anything other than the deception.
“Ororo, don’t act so innocent. Scott is always too busy, too tired, too something for sex. I’m not asexual. I need sex every now and again, and going solo isn’t as good as the real thing.” Jean said with a smirk.
“What about your vows, Jean? Don’t those mean anything to you?” Ororo asked, her good mood was fading fast.
“Ororo, please. I’m not falling in love with the man, just sleeping with him. What’s wrong with that?” Jean asked.
I’ll tell you what’s wrong with that. There’s about a million things wrong with that. Ororo said to herself thinking about how things were between Logan and her. Jean didn’t realize that sometimes emotions did come attached with the physicality of the pleasure “ even if you promised yourself they wouldn’t. She never intended to fall for Logan, but then again, she never expected to spend her time lying under him, his personal odalisque.
“Anyone we know?” Yuriko asked with a Cheshire grin.
Jean used her nail to trace the pattern on the bar, grinning sneakily. Ororo didn’t want to hear it, but she stood rooted to her spot unable to leave. She had to hear it from Jean’s mouth. Why did she want to punish herself? Maybe this revelation is what she needed to hear, to make her realize how futile her position was in the grand scheme of Logan’s life.
“Yeah,” Jean said with a slow drawl.
“Who?” Ororo found herself asking quietly despite herself. At that moment, Jean looked up at Logan who was cleaning some of the tables on the floor. “Jean, do you think that’s fair to Scott or Logan?”
“Fair? You make it sound as if I’m in love with both of them. That’s hardly the situation.”
“Are you going to leave Scott for him?” Yuriko asked.
“God, no. That would be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Logan and I just have fun.” Jean laughed. Then stopped. “Ororo, are you feeling okay? You don’t look so well.” Jean said with motherly concern, forgetting all about Logan at the blink of an eye. “Do you need to go home. I could call in someone else to take over your shift.
“No, I’m fine.” Ororo said. “I just need to sit down a little while.” Ororo left and hid herself in one of the far corners of the club and cried.
It had only taken Jean’s confession to make her feel so ashamed of the decisions she had made in her life. She wished she could go back and change it all. That first time with Logan would have never happened. She would have told him he was crazy, she would have spurned those twisted messages she was getting from him, that first time they had sex instead of letting it happen. In fact, she would have never started working at the club at all. Then, she would still believe that Scott and Jean had the perfect relationship, and she wouldn’t have conflicting emotions about Logan.
“Fuck!” She heard Yuriko yell as glass shattered on the floor. She heard Remy’s voice, an indistinct lull, as he spoke to Yuriko “ undoubtedly to apologize. “Why don’t you get fucked, Remy!” That’s exactly how she said it. It was a statement not an angered question.
Ororo wished it was that easy to get her frustration across. She wished she could tell everyone and everything that angered her to “get fucked”. She wished her problems were as simple to sweep up as the broken glass, but it wasn’t. She couldn’t continue to tell herself that things were going to be okay and ignore them. She had to leave, even if it was only for a while. She was sorry she couldn’t turn back time and change things. She wished it was all a dream, but it wasn’t. It was her reality.
A few hours later, her earlier despair was pushed to the back of her mind as she concentrated on making drinks. As usual, the drinks that contained vodka seemed to be in high demand. Yuriko was on the second floor with Logan working the other bar. She was glad for that small miracle. She didn’t have to listen to Yuriko babble on and one about Jean’s indiscretion, and she didn’t have to look at Logan.
Joaquín sat down a couple of seats away from Ororo. He didn’t say anything to her, and she didn’t say anything to him. He smiled at her, and she smiled back. Then, she saw him pick up one of the napkins with The Phoenix logo on it and turn it over. He said something to Remy, and Remy looked her way cracking a smile. Remy handed Joaquín a pen. He scribbled on the napkin, and then folded it, putting his hand over it. Casually, he slid it toward her with the pen. She took it from him. It read:
I like you.
Do you like me?
Check yes or no.
Beside the choices were two little boxes. She couldn’t help laughing as she drew another box and wrote the word “maybe” beside it. Then, she checked the box beside the “maybe” and slid it back toward him. He read it, and then he laughed aloud.
He picked up another napkin, wrote on it and slid it her way. This time it read:
Will you have dinner with me
Check yes or no.
P.S. You can’t say maybe.
She chuckled and marked the box that said “no”, and then drew an arrow pointing the back of the napkin where she wrote:
Will you let me cook dinner for you?
Check yes or no
P.S. I’m a really good cook.
She slid the note over to him. His face fell for a second. Then he read the rest of her message and laughed again. He looked at her and said with a teasing tone, “Yes, but only because you’re a really good cook.” Things were already starting to look up. He moved to the stool in front her of her and grasped her hands between his.
*
“I’m leaving,” she said to him, frankly, after she felt her voice to her. She had been waiting to say those words the last couple of weeks, deciding it was best to just say them and get them over, letting it register in his head that she wouldn’t be around to be his personal fucktoy for the rest of his life. Before that night, the words would cling desperately in her throat, suffocating her, refusing to come out. “I’m leaving and I’m never coming back.”
She pulled the covers tighter around her figure. She hadn’t even given them time to calm from the sex before she dropped that on him. She wanted to feel guilty about it, but she didn’t. She felt relieved, like a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. If she could admit that to him, she could do anything she wanted to do. And she found it funny that first the first time in a long time, his touch didn’t make her mind cloud. She was more resolute than ever about her decision. What was once just a wishful whim was beginning to become a reality.
“Where ya goin’?” he asked. He didn’t sound as if he particularly cared, and why should he? He seemed only to ask out of obligation rather than genuine concern.
“Away from here.” Away from you, she added silently to herself. The images of flamenco dresses and castanets twirled in her mind. She wished she could tell him about that dream, but she knew she couldn’t. He would never understand, and if he could, she wouldn’t be leaving in the first place… or would she?
She was surprised that she had actually told him. She had promised herself that she would just break the ties without telling anyone, but she decided that this was the more practical approach. Practical? She scoffed to herself. She had only told him because she wanted him to say something, to beg her to stay, but he didn’t seem to be in the begging mood. He was probably more concerned with who he was going to replace her with rather than why she was leaving.
“Where?” he asked. She thought she imagined a slight urgency in his tone, but when she looked at him, he seemed complacent, unconcerned.
“The location isn’t important. Far away from here.” She answered.
“Are you in some kinda trouble?” She heard a little concern; she hadn’t imagined it.
Then, she decided he was more concerned with his own welfare. If he thought she was in some kind of trouble, he was probably worried that he would be connected to her “trouble” somehow. Typical. She teased the idea of letting him think that she was in trouble. That wouldn’t be fair. Funny, but not fair. “I’m not in any trouble.”
“Then, why are you leavin’?”
“There are so many reasons. I couldn’t sum them all up.” She sighed, studying her fingernails. She could feel like intense gaze on her. She was afraid to look at him, afraid that if she gazed into his eyes for even one second, all her secrets would come tumbling out.
“Dontcha think you’re being just a little rash?”
“Rash?” She laughed in spite of herself.
“Yes. You don’t realize how crazy you sound, talkin’ ‘bout movin’ out of the blue. People don’t just do that,” his voice was chilly but calm.
“Logan,” the name sounded foreign on her tongue. “If I want to just leave this place, what’s stopping me? Nobody needs me here…” She stopped herself before she could say to him, you don’t need me.
“What about your friends, your family?”
“If you knew anything about me besides how to bring me to a screaming orgasm, you would know that I have no family. Jean is my only close friend here, and she’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.” She took a deep breath before she continued on. “And you surely don’t need me. You can get free sex with no strings attached from anywhere.”
“What’s that s’pose to mean?”
She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. “It means you don’t need me either, and honestly, I don’t this relationship was ever healthy for either of us. I told myself I would never let it get this far, but, even when I hated myself for it, I couldn’t refuse you.” She chuckled sardonically.
She didn’t look at him, and he didn’t say anything to her. She didn’t know if it was because he was speechless or because he really didn’t care. Maybe the admission was too much for him to handle. “It ain’t like that,” he finally said after a few moments of silence.
“Oh?” she said, finally turning her gaze to him. “What is it like then? Enlighten me.”
More silence.
“This is gettin’ too heavy for me,” he muttered, gathering up his clothes. Ororo didn’t protest as he rushed around the room. She thought she had scared him, but she didn’t feel sorry for admitting what she had to him.
“I know about you and Jean,” she said abruptly, as she watched him put on his clothes. “I didn’t ask her about it. She was telling me about it at the club.” She wanted to tell him how Jean had been bragging, making it seem as if he were a conquest, but in retrospect, wasn’t that what she was to Logan? A conquest?
He didn’t say anything, just grunted half-heartedly. She wanted to be angry at him, to say every negative thing that came to her mind about him sleeping with Jean, with her. But she had allowed this, so now she had to live with her choices.
“Do you love her?” Ororo asked.
He stopped dressing and turned to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed. “What?” he said almost menacingly, but she didn’t back down.
“Do you love her?” she asked again, enunciating every word.
“What kinda fucked up question is that?” he shot back at her, but the venom wasn’t there. He seemed almost contemplative as he said it.
“Just answer the question.” She demanded.
“Yes… no… I don’t know.” He finally said. The he looked at her intently. “Do you love what’s-his-face? Juan Valdez?”
“Joaquín, his name is Joaquín. He’s just a friend. I love him as I love any of my friends,” she said wistfully, thinking back to how Joaquín’s hands had touched her like silk when he was positioning her for the photos. Logan grunted at this answer, as if he weren’t entirely satisfied with the answer, but didn’t dispute it.
“Why are you really leavin’?” he asked again more tenderly, still staring at her intently.
“If I stayed, I’d never leave.” Ororo didn’t say anything else as she slipped from her bed and locked herself in the bathroom. She couldn’t tell him that everything was starting to feel unfamiliar. Sometimes, she felt dazed by the way her life was going, not just because of him, but because of other things in her life “ the divorce, the loneliness, the need to be free and spread her wings. She felt like she really didn’t know her place. She wanted to get away, to think things through. Maybe she would come back. Maybe she wouldn’t. She did know one thing; she needed to get away.
How was she supposed to explain to him? Even if she did, what did she expect him to say? She didn’t know what she had expected him to say when she dropped the news on him that she was leaving or that she knew about him and Jean. She guessed she expected him to say that Jean was a mistake that he really loved her. She expected him to break down, get down on his knees, beg her to stay. A part of her knew she would stay if he asked her to. Why did she still hope when there was no hope left?
*
Author’s notes: I updated. Tiger, it’s your turn. You don’t have me as an excuse not to update anymore. ;) Not as long as I hoped. More like a gateway chapter for what happens next.
