Page 110 of All In
But not after tonight.
The Uber sits idle in Geoffrey’s driveway as butterflies erupt in my stomach. Getting out of the car, I thank my driver and take a moment to fix my dress and run my fingers through my hair. As I do, the passenger side window goes down. “Ma’am,” his voice echoes through the empty street.
Curious about why the drivers calling me, I twist my body and lean forward to catch a glimpse of his face through the window. I cast a fleeting glance to the backseat, seeing if I missed anything. I bring my eyes back to him. “Did I forget to do something?”
He’s an older gentleman, who looks to be in his mid-sixties, with salt-and-pepper hair and faded tattoos that run up and down each arm. He flashes me a gentle smile, his eyes crinkling with warmth. “No, ma’am. I know it’s none of my business, and I have no clue what that man means to you.” He points at Geoffrey’s front door. I turn, and there he is, standing tall and motionless, waiting for me. His tie and suit jacket are discarded. I bring my focus back to this stranger, curious about where this is going. “But I used to look at my late wife the way that man who put you in the car back at the restaurant looked at you. It’s rare and beautiful. If you’re lucky enough to get it, don’t run away from it.”
His words are like a gut punch. This stranger, who is maybe a little intrusive, understood the situation by watching Sam and me for only a few minutes. Sam and I have been running away from and toward each other long enough. Heck, we have been stuck in this repetitive routine for more than two decades, and it’s starting to wear thin. But now, Sam is running toward me. The question is, am I willing to go all in?
Yes. Yes, I am.
“Have a good night, ma’am.” He tips his trucker hat to me, rolls up his window and drives away.
Now I’m alone, standing at the base of the driveway, staring at a man I am about to hurt. With equal amounts of fear and sadness, I head in Geoffrey’s direction. The new wrinkle on his forehead is back because he knows what’s coming. The clanking of my heels on his driveway, as well as sudden heart palpitations, are only adding to the dread. When I reach the steps, Geoffrey kindly shifts to the right, ensuring there is enough room for both of us on his narrow front porch.
“Hi.” My greeting comes out strangled.
Geoffrey gives me a tight smile and shoves his hands into his pockets. His posture is rigid. “What’s going on Maria? And please, be straight with me.”
I flex my foot, balancing the weight on my left side with my heel, stalling, as I try to come up with the right words. Are there any ‘right words’ to break someone’s heart with?
There aren’t.
Without hesitation, I blurt out the first thing that pops into my head. “Geoffrey, I’m so sorry. I thought I was over him. I really did. But then I saw him … with her and—”
“You’ll never be over him.” He interrupts, shifting his glance over my shoulder, not wanting to make eye contact.
I nod my head, feeling my hair brush against my cheeks. “You’re right.” A part of my heart will forever belong to Sam.
He finally looks back at me, his eyes full of determination, his voice low-pitched. “Maria, I won’t settle for being someone’s second option. I deserve better than that.” His statement is steady and firm.
And true.
“You're right, you shouldn’t.” My hand stretches out as I take a step toward him, seeking his touch, but he takes a deliberate step backward. I retract my arm, feeling a sense of unease, and immediately grip my clutch, holding it protectively in front of me. “I won’t go into the specifics of my complicated feelings towards Sam, but I want you to know that I care deeply for you.”
“But not enough.”
“No, I guess not. But you helped me more than you could ever imagine. When I met you, I was so lonely that my life felt almost painful. You helped me to see myself again and desired me in a way no man had in a long time. You brought me back to life again, and for that, I will always be grateful.”
Looking downwards, his eyes scrunch together, like he’s in pain. He probably is. “You brought me back to life also,” he murmurs so softly that I almost miss it.
Gradually, his eyes come up to meet mine, revealing a flicker of longing. “Can I hold you, please? One last time,” he whispers as he leans in closer.
I release the grip on my clutch and open my arms, inviting him in. As his hand wraps around my wrist, Geoffrey effortlessly removes my silver clutch from my grasp and tosses it onto the patio chair. He tugs me closer, his grip tight but gentle. His hand slowly travels up my arm, the touch becoming more tender, as if he’s trying to etch this moment into his memory before it fades away forever. His eyes are intense and trail up my arm along with his touch. The tender feeling of his fingers sliding on my skin stirs something inside of me and when it does, I finally understand what Sam felt for Cara throughout the years. Because I am almost ready to forget my decision and pull him into his house.
We are chest to chest now. The moment our eyes meet, he delicately tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. His hand travels to the back of my neck and lingers there, causing goosebumps to explode over my body. I lean into him and inhale his scent as his other arm snakes around my back, his touch searing my skin. As I rest my head on his chest, I wrap my arms around his broad back, and we stand there in our embrace, saying goodbye with unspoken words.
Geoffrey and I discovered something with each other that filled a void we didn’t realize existed. We were both hurting and lonely and helped the other breathe again. We gave each other the same gift.
I will be eternally grateful for that.
With the passing of a few minutes, Geoffrey’s grip relaxes. But before he pulls away completely, his full and soft lips brush lightly with mine. It’s sweet and sad, all in equal measure. He lingers for a moment, savoring our final kiss before breaking the connection and taking in my face, memorizing it. “To remember.”
He slips away, and my body shivers with a sudden coldness as soon as he steps back. But even though I feel this way when I’m with him, his presence doesn’t match the warmth and familiarity of Sam’s.
“Stay right here,” he says, his voice fading as he turns and grabs the doorknob, the sound of the clicking echoing into the night. “I’ll get my keys and drive you home.”
I nod and watch him disappear inside to grab the keys for his second car. Without realizing it, I had been holding my breath, and as I let it out, a sense of relief washes over me.
