RECTIFY: A REDEMPTION NOVEL Page 14

  Every stroke means something different. Empathy. Sadness. Comfort. Gratitude. Our tongues say it all to one another. Reading between the lines, exploring the unknown, wanting the impossible.

  Rattling of the door has us reluctantly pulling apart. We press our foreheads against one another as we steady our breathing

  “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow,” she whispers.

  I look up at her and give her my cheekiest smile. “I look forward to it.”

  13

  Sasha

  I’m pacing around Claire’s office like I own the place, waiting for her to come back in from an emergency outside. Seeing her has become a regular thing, and now with Jay making an unexpected impact in my life, I’m relieved I have her ears to listen to me ramble.

  Each week we’ve been going through the five things that have changed my life the most. Dakota is the most obvious, but she’s also the least negative.

  Processing Jagger’s incarceration was an emotional rollercoaster. I didn’t realise I had shut down so much hurt and anger, until I came to talk to Claire and my eyes were still swollen from crying three days later.

  Today she’s going to try to ask me about Hendrix, and I’m going to try and swing the conversation to Jay. It’s not ideal, because I know Hendrix is one of my biggest hurdles, but there is so much going on in my life right now that doesn’t revolve around him, it almost feels sacrilegious not to address it.

  Claire steps in, and offers me an apologetic smile. “I'm so sorry about the delay. If you need more time you're my last client of the day, so you can stay back if you want.”

  “Are you sure you want to offer something like that?” I joke. “We'll be here all night.”

  “If that's what it takes.”

  I plop myself on the beanbag, but choose not to draw today. I'm too jittery, my hands unable to keep focus on such a task.

  “You look a bit anxious,” she points out. “Is everything okay?”

  “I'm fine. I think.” I nod to myself more than her. “It's not a bad anxious.”

  She raises a brow. “Care to start from the beginning for me?”

  I pick at the cuticles on my fingers, as I admit to what’s got me so worked up. “It's Jay.”

  “What about him?”

  “We slept with each other last week, and we have plans to do it again tonight.”

  Well, I fucking hope we do.

  “The other night I found out the mother of his daughter died, and I'm just a ball of nerves trying to process it all.”

  “Let's break it down,” she suggests.

  It sounds like such a simple task, but when I do dig deeper, I always find out more than I bargained for.

  “What happened that made you go from never wanting to see Jay, to I'm going to have sex with him tonight.”

  “We had a few run ins, and each time I felt myself drawn to him that little bit more. Last week Jay’s brother died and the timing and circumstance felt right.”

  She scribbles on her paper, adding to her notes, or drawing, before meeting my gaze. “Did you talk about the heavy stuff or did you just jump into the sex?”

  I glance off to the side, my face heating up at the memory of all the ways we spoke. “We got the important stuff out of the way.”

  “And are you content with the things he said?”

  “You aren't going to ask me?”

  “No. I only care about how it made you feel.” The emphasis on the last word, drives the point home. “So, tell me that.”

  It was such a relief to know I wasn’t the only one who was developing feelings when we were younger, but that wasn’t the most enticing part about being with Jay. It was how we were both now on this level playing field; which didn’t exist before.

  “The sex was out of this world, so there’s that, but what I didn’t anticipate is how different it was because we’re both adults, who have experienced so much.“ I stop and think of the right words instead of rambling. “When we were teenagers it was a power struggle, and he always came out on top. But now he’s this grown, changed man, with a daughter, who has similar priorities and experiences to mine, and it holds a lot of appeal.”

  “Okay, I hear what you're saying, and that’s a great observation. But now flip the coin, what is less appealing.”

  I run my fingertips across my lips, repeatedly. “He lives in Melbourne now. So, even if I wanted it to, it can't eventuate.”

  “Anything else?”

  I huff and shake my head. “Obviously, Jagger and Drix. I would have to tell them he’s in my life. Potentially in Dakota’s life.”

  That realisation hits me harder than the others. I wouldn’t even know how to approach discussing my potential love life with Dakota. In her eyes, there’s been no struggle, no broken hearts, no desire for me to even be with someone.

  Is Jay worth opening up that line of communication?

  “If Jay lived here in Sydney and there was no Hendrix and Jagger to worry about what would you do?”

  I don’t even think twice. “I’d enjoy my time with him”

  “So let's do that.” She grabs her bottle of opened water and takes a sip.

  “That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”

  “It very well could be,” she agrees. “But you told me your goal was to get out of the habit of making or changing your choices based on other people.”

  “I don’t know if this one is negotiable.” I awkwardly get off the bean bag, and resume my pacing. “They will take it personally no matter what. I have to be prepared for a huge fight, or even worse.”

  “Would you put yourself in that position?”

  “For Jay?”

  She nods.

  “I can’t see us getting to that point.” It tastes, and feels, and sounds like a lie, but it’s the only thing I can hold on to.

  His words from last week haunt me, and my determination to make Claire understand how serious the tension between all three men is, makes me feel helpless against myself.

  You’re always going to go back to them.

  “Okay, let's try something else.” She hands me a paper similar to the one I filled out on my first day here. Hendrix’s name sprawled across the top. “You listed Hendrix twice. Him as a person, and your relationship with him as one of the biggest impacts on your life.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hendrix is with someone else now, right?” I wait for the usual sting, but it doesn’t come. “Did he have the option to choose a life with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he?”

  I shake my head.

  “Why not?” she probes.

  “Because it wasn't what he wanted.” I remember what he told me, and reiterate it to Claire. “He wasn’t in love with me, and truth be told I think we fell out of love with one another a long time before we realised it. We romanticised it past its expiry date.”

  “He wanted to be happy, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Does it mean he didn't care about you?”

  “No.”

  She makes an alarm sound, like I’ve just hit the jackpot, and I can’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. Her investment in every session, is the reason I love coming back.

  “I know there's more to this thing with Hendrix than what we’ve touched on, but if we could break it down. One thing at a time, like this. It will be easier for you to process and make rational non-reactionary decisions.”

  “Do you think Jay is a reactionary decision?” I ask, my insecurity rearing its ugly head.

  “What I think doesn’t matter.” Her mouth pulls in a sympathetic smile, as she avoids the question. “But if I’m going to bend the rules even just a little, you should know it doesn’t matter what your reasons are for Jay. I think it’s worth trying it out.”

  * * *

  After Jay’s confession about Lily’s mum, I messaged him and asked if he wanted to come over for dinner. I wasn’t sure what the protocol was, but I wanted to give him the opportunit
y to talk freely and comfortably if he wanted to.

  Seeing that Wednesday is dinner at Jagger’s house, and he and I are somewhat in a better place, we’re expected to go. I had to take a few steps back in my progress, and lie about a work function.

  After confirming he had no food aversions, I proceeded to agonise with Holly over what to cook. Deciding on Chicken Alfredo, I rush around the grocery store picking up ingredients, before stopping at my favourite patisserie and grabbing a surprise for dessert.

  No matter how many times I say to myself this isn’t a date. It feels like one. I’m picking out nice underwear for myself, I’m wearing more than leggings and a tank, and I cooked for someone who wasn’t Dakota, my mum, or Holly.

  I don’t want to feel giddy about him coming over, but I’ve lost all self control, addicted to the excitement and butterflies.

  At seven o’clock the doorbell rings and I’m overwhelmed by how flustered getting ready has made me feel. I only have my feelings for Hendrix to compare this to, and there was so much anger and hostility attached to us, that this feels like a whole different ball game.

  I count to three and take a deep breath, before opening the door. He’s standing there, rocking a pair of wheat coloured Timberlands, ripped jeans, and a plain royal blue t-shirt, that accentuates the sinewy muscles in his arms.

  He looks like the type of man you'd find in a magazine. Gracing the cover with his effortlessly rugged features. If I wasn’t riddled with nerves, I would bypass dinner and lose myself in him.

  “Hey,” he says, interrupting my ogling.

  I dart my eyes to his, and he gives me a knowing smile. “Hey.”

  “I didn't know what we were having for dinner, so I bought one of each.”

  He hands me a bag with both a red and white bottle of wine, and I smile at him graciously. “You didn't have to bring these. Thank you.”

  “You're cooking dinner, it's only fair.”

  “Come in. Make yourself feel at home.” Spinning on my heels, I hold each out by the neck and inspect the labels as I prepare to walk the kitchen.

  “Sasha.” Low and demanding, his voice transports me back to us in my bedroom, all tangled up in one another.

  I turn to find him right behind me. I squeak out a weak, “Yes.”

  Without any warning, fingers tip up my mouth to meet his. There’s no hesitation, no indecision, no walking around eggshells for Jay, he just takes what he wants and I’ve never been more grateful to give up control and let him lead.

  Every kiss with him is different, like he’s driven by the moods of the moon, every time is a new Jay, each one more addictive than the one before.

  The timer on my oven, chooses this moment to go off, forcing us apart.

  “Shit,” I murmur.

  With Jay on my heels, I head on over to the kitchen, and check on the chicken. Deciding to leave it in there for a little bit longer, I adjust the timer and check on the sauce.

  An arm snakes around my waist while a finger dips into the pan. He licks the sauce off his finger, humming in appreciation.

  “That tastes really good.”

  Tilting my head toward him, I scrunch up my face. “You sound surprised.”

  “No,” he says with a throaty chuckle. “I had no doubt you could cook. It’s just been a while since I ate something this good.”

  “You don’t cook?”

  “I do. Probably, not as good as you, but I have managed to keep Lily and I alive and poison free all this time.” He uncurls his arm from around me, giving me room to get back to what I was doing. “And now I let Max cook, because it makes her feel like she’s contributing or something like that.”

  “How’s she doing?” I pick up the white wine he brought, and lift it up in question.

  He nods at the bottle. “I’m just kind of letting her go through the motions, hoping she’s on her feet before I have to leave.”

  Giving him my back I reach for two wine glasses. “Any idea when that’s happening?”

  He doesn’t answer until I turn around. The question sits heavy between us, the storm in his eyes returning.

  “I need to get back to work soon.”

  I swallow the snarky retort that wants to call him out on his vague answer and pour the wine in the glasses. “What do you do for work?”

  “I own my own security company.”

  I perk up at his answer, and try not to let his earlier avoidance ruin my mood. It shouldn’t matter anyway. “That’s great.”

  “It’s been really good. Probably one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself.”

  I hand him a glass of wine. “I’m glad you got yourself out of all that other shit.”

  “I would’ve ended up like Leroy if I stayed around.”

  The harsh reality of his statement, is proof of how far he’s come, how much he’s changed. How different his life would’ve been if he lived here, and sadness that there’s more to his brother’s death than I know.

  “What made you leave?” The timer goes off just as I finish my question. “Hold that thought. Let me get everything set up and you can tell me about it.”

  “Let me help you.”

  I dart around grabbing plates, cutlery, and serviettes, and hand them to him. I put the pieces of cooked chicken breast on a platter, and then pour the Alfredo sauce across all of them. The heat makes the delicious garlic and cheese smell waft throughout the whole kitchen.

  Happy with the presentation, I take it out to the table, and place it in the centre.

  The plates are on either side, cutlery perfectly placed, and the serviettes are now origami birds

  “Party trick?” I quip, with an unmissable smile.

  He laughs. “It’s a good one right? Lily loves them”

  I rush back to the kitchen and grab the salad I made earlier from the fridge, and sit back down.

  “Dig in.”

  Surprising me, he leans over and picks up my plate. Wordlessly he fills it with food; two pieces of chicken, heavy on the sauce, and a side of salad.

  I just stare at him in wonder.

  “What?” he asks looking confused.

  “I feel like I don’t know you.”

  “You don’t.” He repeats the motions with his own plate. “Not this version of me.”

  I lower my head to hide the blush, the amazement, the want. I know it’s all written on my face, and I’m not ready for him to see it.

  I raise a finger, signalling I need a minute, before slowly bringing my gaze back to his. “This is a good version of you.”

  His smile lights up the whole room, like a young boy who’s been waiting his whole life for some form of validation. I point to his plate with my fork. “Eat before it gets cold.”

  Trying to hide his smile, he looks down at the plate and digs in.

  “You asked me why I left Sydney, earlier.”

  Shocked he’s willingly offering up information, I nod. “Yeah, I didn’t ever think you’d leave your dad and Leroy.”

  “Well, it started with a girl.”

  I’m all ears now.

  “Her name was Aisha. She was the daughter of some guy dad and the people he hung out with had crossed. And she was this innocent thing, completely oblivious to everything around her. Especially what her dad was involved with.”

  “And let me guess, you just had to corrupt her?” I intend for it to come out as a joke, but old hurt makes it sound more like an intentional dig.

  “I wanted to,” he continues unperturbed. “But she schooled me.”

  “Yeah?”

  “She wasn’t the girl that wanted the bad boy. She was the one who only wanted him if he changed.”

  “So you changed for her?”

  He takes the last sip of his wine before answering. “I got into this fight, and I thought they were going to kill me. I remember walking home, blood staining my clothes, both my eyes closing over, and thinking why the fuck are you doing this shit? Everything I’d done up to that point was so hollow, and Ai
sha had reinforced that, reminded me of how insignificant my mark on the world really was. So, I made a plan, and when the timing was right, I left.”

  “With Aisha?”

  “Fuck, no,” he bellows. “She couldn’t get rid of me fast enough. It didn’t matter how good the sex was, or how hard she pushed for me to see the bigger picture. Or the fact that I did see it; cleaned up my act and listened to her. I was only ever going to be a person in passing to her.”

  He’s taking off one layer at a time, hiding nothing from me, and I'm floored by his openness and honesty. I know I’m not going to find out years and years worth of information in one night, but the ease in which he’s sharing his deepest thoughts, and biggest regrets is inspiring.

  “And Leroy never wanted to join you?”

  “I begged him, but then it just became pointless. He had no interest in changing.”

  I finish off my food, and Jay tops up our glasses. “And your dad?”

  His body stiffens ever so slightly at my question, but I push him anyway. “Where’s he in all this?”

  He empties the second glass of wine in seconds. “He died of a heart attack a few years ago, but I hadn’t spoken to him since the day I left anyway.”

  Flashes of a young Jay with bruises all over his face and his body fill my mind. The first time he took his shirt off in front of me, I nearly cried at the sight. I knew he didn’t want the attention, so I closed my eyes, buried my head in his pillow, and pretended I was asleep.

  The day his dad came home drunk, and tore that house to shreds was the one and only time, I saw how destructive Jay’s life really was.

  He’d gone out to calm down his dad, and the next thing I know, they were beating the fuck out of one another. In that moment, that man was a monster, and I was sure Jay was going to grow up to be one too. After all, children learn what they live.

  With no condolences to offer for the man that scared the shit out of me, I tell him the truth. “Seems to me, like that was the best decision you ever made.”

  14

  Jay

  Nobody knew what went on behind closed doors, except for Sasha. When she put two and two together, she didn’t breathe down my neck about it, she didn’t try to make me speak to someone, and beg me to try and change it.