Page 87 of Spies Don't Fall for Their Asset
Ashe nears,Isay, “Oh, howIneeded your smile today,Hammy!”
“It’shard to go two weeks without me, isn’t it?”
“Definitely.”
“Youwere away at a seminar inBaltimorelastMonday, right?”
Inod and pat the table, soHammygets up on it.Inmy head,Idon’t think of it as “the dayIwent to that seminar” as much as “the dayJacestopped being in my life.”Tosay that it’s been a rough week is like saying that theJamesBondmovie franchise has done “okay” at the box office.Ihave been miserable.Ihaven’t been a fan of going on anything past a first or second date sinceIstopped seeingDantwo years ago soIdon’t have any recent heartbreak experience, butI’vehad it in my life enough to know that this time, it’s different.
Whenpast relationships have ended,I’vebeen sad that things ended.Orfelt unworthy or unloved.I’vegrieved for the futureIthought would happen that no longer will…Untila week or three passed andIrealized that it wasn’t actually a futureIwanted—Ihad only thought thatIdid.AndI’vebeen sad for the loss of side relationships, like ones with his family or friends that would no longer continue.
ButwithJace, it has gone so far beyond sadness.Sorrow, grief, and loss, definitely.Ihave also missed him intensely.Imiss bantering with him.Talkingwith him about anything.Laughingwith him about everything.
Imiss the way the man is open to eating food from every country and culture in the world, yet still picks the olives off his pizza.ThewayIcan tell when he has a stressful day at work by the subtle shift in his shoulders and the set of his jaw.Theway the features of his face soften the moment his eyes fall on me.Howhe seems to know exactly where to rub my head whenIhaven’t even said out loud thatIhave a headache.
Theway he always sits at a spot in a restaurant where he can face the doors, his eyes scanning everything.Theway he’s hyper-aware of whereIam and where any threats— a golf ball, a kid on a bike not paying attention to his surroundings, an angry cat on a dark street, actual bad guys chasing us— are at every moment.Theway his protective nature extends to everyone.
Iwant to sit with him on the couch, rest my head on his shoulder, and breathe in the scent of him.Feelhis strong arm wrapped around me.Feelthe warmth of his breath against my skin as he skims his lips along my jaw before bringing those lips to meet mine.Theway the muscles of his arms make me feel likeI’msafe and home whenever they’re wrapped around me.
Ieven miss all we haven’t experienced yet, like holidays and vacations and seeing how he’ll be around my family.Iwant to watch spy movies with him and laugh together as he tells me all the things that they got wrong.Iwant to experience everything with him.Gettingmarried.Seeingthe look on his face when a pregnancy test comes back positive.Watchinghim with our future kids and debating which of our features which kids got.Supportingeach other through moves and careers and hardships and celebrations.Iwant it all.
Iwant him.
Iwant to feel the wayIdo when he’s around.Inever fully realized exactly how strong a needIhave to be seen.Tonot be forgotten or dismissed or go unnoticed.Andit didn’t fully hit me how muchJacehas filled that need for me until that moment on the street inBaltimorewhen he acted like he didn’t know me when that woman walked past.
Inthat small moment, past hurts had come flooding in.Hurtsthat had been constant companions for so long that they had become part of my landscape.Untilthat moment,Ihadn’t realized that from the start,Jacehad completely banished those hurts from me.AllI’dknown was that around him,I’dfelt cherished.
Idon’t know what the story is with that woman andIdon’t need to know.AllIknow is the moment she passed by me andJace’seyes flew back to mine, those past hurts completely vanished again, possibly for good.AndIknew without a doubt thatJacewould always “see” me.ThatIwould never feel forgotten, dismissed, or unnoticed by him.
Andthen, only a small moment later, he said we should stop seeing each other.
Asstrange as it seems,Ihaven’t felt unloved or unworthy or unwanted or deficient in some way like any other time whenIwasn’t the one to end a relationship.Somewherealong the way,Jacegave me the gift of understanding and believing in my own worth, even separate from him.Andeven thoughIhaven’t seen or heard fromJacein a full week,Isomehow still feel cherished by him.
Whichis great, except that it’s also horrible.IfIfelt unloved, then maybe he’d be easier to get over.Butit’sJace.He’snot the kind of man you can ever get over.He’smy person, andIwill always long for him.
Everythinghas been running on a loop in my head andI’mgetting nowhere.AllIknow is thatIwant him near me.Iwant to tell him when a patient frustrates me or accomplishes something huge.Iwant to share a funny meme thatMelissaat the reception desk shared with me.Iwant to ask him what he thinks about current events and movies and where we should eat.
Iwant to tell him thatI’msorryIwas so angry that he had lied to me.SinceDan,Ihad kind of been lumping every type of secret into one big lying bucket thatIbelieved should be condemned to a fiery grave.ButDanandJaceare as different as two men can be.Danflat-out lied to me, and he did it to keep me from finding out how deceitful a person he was.Jacenever tries to hide who he is as a person.Andthe things he keeps secret are things that affect national security— things he’s made an oath to protect.AndIwear truth glasses now, soI’vegot no problem seeing the big difference between the two.
Iwant to hum the theme songs toMission:Impossible,AustinPowers,TheManfromU.N.C.L.E, anyJamesBondmovie, or evenSpyKidswheneverIam around him.AndthenIwant to watch the way his eyebrows crease ever so slightly or the way he rubs the back of his neck, all while he fights to keep his lips from quirking up.
Iwant him in my life.
Inthe past week,I’vebeen relieved that my patients have only talked about their lives, never about mine, and have seemed oblivious to the state of my broken heart.ButI’vealso been sad thatHammywouldn’t be in until today.He’smy one patient who can tell if something is off with me and will always ask about it.Andfor some reason,I’malmost always willing to talk to him about it.
Orat least about some of it.Hammydoesn’t need to know how many days in the past weekI’vehad ice cream for dinner (three), how many sleepless nightsI’veendured (four), or how many timesI’vetapped onJace’sname in my texting app before swiping out of it (countless).
IgiveHammythe rundown of what we’re doing today— our final round of ultrasound therapy on his shoulder, then stretching, and then some exercises on the machines.Hetakes off his shirt and lies down on the paper-covered padded table andIget to work and try to keep my mind offJace.I’vegotten really good at redirecting my thoughts whenever he pops into my head.
HowdidIget really good at it?Practice.BecauseIget a chance to practice about every thirty seconds since that’s about as long as my brain can go without thinking about him.
Iredirect my brain by tellingHammythat it’s hard to believe that he’s sixty-four.I’vedone physical therapy with people of all ages, andI’musually pretty good at guessing ages. “Seriously,”Isay, “ifIhad to guess based on your muscle and bone structure,Iwouldn’t put you at a day over fifty-two,max.”
Hammychuckles, thanks me for the compliment, and then says, “So, are you excited about ourOutsidetheBubbleevent onFriday?”
“Idon’t know.Idon’t really want to get out of my comfort zone right now.Ikind of want to crawl into my comfort zone with a nice, fuzzy, warm blanket, curl into a ball, and never leave it again.”
“Oh, no.I’mguessing things aren’t going well with you andJace?”
