Loves Me Not

FORTY ONE

BEFORE
CATALAINA KITTRIDGE

The more time I spent with Scarlett, the more I could feel myself opening up and feeling less anxious about everything. Her and I would go out for drinks on weekends, or meet for lattes in the evenings during the week. Some nights I'd go over to her condo and we'd watch Sex and the City reruns and drink red wine. It felt nice to have a friend.

Ben didn't even question my whereabouts. I simply told him that I had made a new friend and he was happy for me, telling me to have a good time as I walked out the door to meet with Scarlett. He was always telling me that I needed to put myself out there and meet new people. So that's what I did.

The constant bickering and arguing between us had begun to cease as my absences grew more frequent. The less time that we spent together meant less time finding things to disagree about. We lived in the house together, but continued to live separate lives. He did his thing, I did mine. Sometimes he'd bring up the wedding and reel me in with talk of forever and children. He was trying to get me to swoon over him, have me remember why I fell in love with him in the first place. But instead, the opposite happened. These talks frightened me even more. It made me question what I was doing with Ben and if I was making the right decision. Could I truly stay with someone without passionate intent? Could I simply settle for Ben because it was the easy thing to do?

Valentine's Day had come and gone. Ben made a big deal of it, taking me out for dinner and sweeping me off my feet. It was a lovely evening, all things aside. But there was something amiss that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

As I drifted off to sleep that night, I thought about every other Valentine's Day in my life, and how Ben was the first person to actually make me feel special on that day. Then I thought about what else that day represented. It was the day that Will proposed to Juliette. And once again, I was swept into the past, crippled with a longing so desperate that it made my heart ache.

_____

It was the second last weekend of February. Scarlett invited me to go to a bar with her on the Saturday night to see a local band that was playing.

I left the house around seven and took a cab to her place. We listened to music, poured ourselves glasses of wine, and got ready for the evening.

We got to the bar after ten. The lights were dim and the music was loud. As of late, I seemed to be preferring this feeling of rapture. I was used to spending my time in well-lit classrooms with happy-faced children. But now I was becoming accustomed to a different lifestyle. One of intoxication and warmth and serenity. Allowing the music to reach every single cell in my body, making me come to life. My bones were on fire. I was electrified.

Scarlett and I spent the night alternating between getting drinks and dancing. She loved the band and I was loving the music. I was grateful for the escape, grateful for my time away from the house. Scarlett was grateful for any opportunity to simply leave her condo.

We got separated at one point. She went to get another drink and I stayed on the dance floor. After a few minutes, I went wandering off looking for her and ending up using the washroom. When I came out and continued searching for her, she was nowhere to be found. I went outside to the smoker's lounge to see if she was there. And just like that, my life would be altered yet again.

My eyes darted across the people, looking for her, but still no sign of Scarlett. The place was crowded. I turned around to move again and subsequently collided with a stranger. I stumbled backwards, then caught my balance and looked up at him.

"Sorry," I quickly said, adjusting my skirt, tugging it further down my thighs.
"No, that was my fault," he said. His voice was nice, smooth. "Are you alright?"
I stared at him, mesmerized, and blinked once. "Yes. Are you?"
"I'm fine," he laughed, then paused and looked at me. "Do you want a cigarette?"
"I don't smoke."
"What are you doing out here then if you don't smoke?"
"I'm looking for my friend. Have you seen her? About this tall, red hair, blue eyes? Usually doesn't stop talking?"
He laughed again. "No, I haven't seen her. But she sounds like a good time."
"Yeah, I'm sure you'd like her actually. I should introduce the two of you."
"I'd rather get to know you," he said, and my heart caught in my chest. My eyes involuntarily flickered down to my finger, which was bare. I can't even remember when I stopped wearing it.
I looked back up at him. "Get to know me, then."

We left the bar and went for a walk. Yes, on a freezing cold February night, this complete stranger and I went for a walk. And yes, I know how unsafe that sounds. But for some reason, I felt fine. I felt safe with him. I can't describe how, but I just knew that I'd be okay.

I sent a text to Scarlett telling her that I was tired and leaving early. She responded saying that she was still on the dance floor and that she'd message me tomorrow.

The two of us walked for a while, my arm linked through his. It reminded me of my very first encounter with Will. That night we left the basement and walked together, talking as if we'd known each other for a lifetime. I was cold, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the conversation I was having with this stranger who came out of nowhere and seemed to make everything else disappear. Nothing was important. There were no stresses or worries or fears. There was just the current moment. And in that current moment, I was content.

I don't even remember how it happened exactly. We had stopped near a grocery store and I was leaning against the wall, slightly shivering. He was so close to me, his face only inches from mine. He put his hands on my arms and rubbed them to keep me warm. The next bit is fuzzy. Did he lean in and kiss me? Or did I pull him to me?

I guess the details don't really matter at this point. All I know is that one moment we were talking and everything was fine. And then the next we were kissing and I was officially cheating on my fiancé.

After a moment, we both pulled away and looked at each other. He held my face in his hands and stared into my eyes. He asked if I wanted to go somewhere warmer.
I said, "I don't even know your name."
"Dominic." He smiled when he said it, as though he was slowly convincing me of whatever it was that he wanted. "What's yours?"
I hesitated. Because once I said it, there was no going back. Once I uttered those words, I would no longer be just Ben's. I would also be his.
"Catalaina," I breathed. "My name is Catalaina."