Malibu Love Story: A Novella

Chapter 20: Decisions

Reed went to her room and sat down on her bed. The bed, the whole room, had the feel of emptiness, of not having been lived in for a while. Reed had been spending every night in Duncan's room, in Duncan's wonderful, huge bed that smelled like him. But this was actually her room, wasn't it, austere and bereft of life?

What was she supposed to do now? Stay and beg Duncan's forgiveness? Return to Oklahoma and beg Sam's? She was pretty sure Sam would forgive her, benevolent soul that he was; Duncan, maybe not so much.

She caught sight of her notes, which were sitting open on the table next to her laptop, and sighed. She rose and wandered over to look at what she'd written, the meticulous outline of the couple's tempestuous romance, the dialogue, the settings. Had anyone ever spoken to anyone in such a manner?

The exploits of Esmerelda and Ruark seemed silly and frivolous now. What had she been thinking, trying to write a romance novel? She didn't have enough, she wasn't enough, to have a novel in her.

How idiotic.

Why couldn't Duncan see that?

She closed the notebook and went to the sliding glass door to look outside.

Duncan was in his chair of solitude, drink in hand, looking out at he waves. He looked deep in thought, beautiful brow drawn seriously as he stared.

Reed wondered what he was thinking.

*

Duncan pondered his life as he took another sip of his drink. What in the world had happened? He'd been bumbling along, enjoying things, to a degree, when this woman had come along and upset everything. She'd snuck up on his blind side, worming her way into his heart when he wasn't expecting anything.

But that wasn't exactly true, was it? Hadn't he been bored, a little sick of things? He remembered the Duncan he used to be, how he'd barely managed to get up the energy to go riding the day he'd met Reed. He'd been tired of being with Fritz, tired of getting high, tired of the endless parade of leggy LA women.

Then along she'd come, with her car with the silly rhyming name, like a funny breath of fresh air, worried about spending his money, worried about intruding—maybe in a way he'd been ready for someone like Reed to happen to him.

Duncan sighed and took a huge swallow of his drink, grimacing a little as it went down. It was very early in the day to be getting pissed, yet he could tell from how the heat bloomed in his stomach and his fingertips were tingling that pissed was what he was becoming. His drink was nearly gone.

Shit.

He thought about that poor fellow Sam, who seemed like a really good bloke. He could imagine the life Reed would've had with him, slow-paced and safe, much like Sam himself. He probably owned a little business, a book store or some such, and wanted nothing more than to make his mortgage every month.

But Reed deserved so much more than that. He thought about her, laughing as she looked for shells on the beach, raking her hair back as she looked at him. He thought about how she looked as she lay under him, completely undone as she came and came and came, riding the huge wave of pleasure that he was able to provide for her. Surely she didn't feel that when she was with the kindly, friendly and safe Sam?

But did that really matter? There was more to life than seashells and orgasms, surely?

He looked at his glass, and saw that it was empty, and knowing that it was a bad idea, he picked up the bottle he'd brought out and refilled it. He took a long swallow, taking the amount down by half, and took a deep, self-pitying breath.

He, Duncan, deserved more than a mendacious woman, didn't he?

"Don't I?" he asked the ocean.

He was definitely getting pissed, if he wasn't completely drunk already.

But he didn't care what he deserved, he only knew what he wanted.

He wanted Reed.

He wanted to travel the world with her, show her the beautiful beaches out there, where she could search for treasures to her heart's content. He wanted to take her to England to meet his family. He wanted to show her the Taj Mahal, the mountains of Switzerland, the oceans of Tahiti. He wanted to watch movies with her, wrapped in her warmth, and know that she'd be there in the morning, ready to love him and let him love her.

"I want to love her," he said to the sea. "I want to love her."

He rose and staggered a little bit, his drink sloshing over the side of the glass.

"Whoa," he said, gripping the back of the chair. He felt the box the ring was in bumping in his pocket, and headed toward the house, to find her.

"Reed? Darling?" He went to the office, then to his room, which were both ominously empty.

"Where are you?" he called, looking into the kitchen.

He went finally to her bedroom, where the bed was neatly made and gave the impression of having been unoccupied for a long time. He saw that some of dresser drawers were not quite closed, and opened one at random. He didn't know how many clothes he had, but even he could tell that she'd pulled some things out very quickly, leaving the remaining items in disarray.

He saw that her laptop was gone, though the notebook was still there.

He turned next to her closet, where most of the colorful new things they'd bought together had hung. Empty hangers mocked him, and he ran a hand over them, as though to confirm what he was seeing.

He ran through the possible explanations, knowing he was pissed and not thinking clearly. As he stood in front of the closet, he heard her car start in the garage.

No. No.

He ran to the garage, hitting the walls of the hallway a couple of times. Damn him for having that second drink. He opened the door to the garage and saw the empty place where her little Toyota had been parked. The garage door finished coming down with finality, cutting off the daylight which had been coming through the opening.

Next Duncan ran to the front door and threw it open, just in time to see her car exit the gate at the top of the driveway.

"Reed!" he called futilely, running out into his yard. "Reed, please come back, please—" he called to the wind as her car turned south onto the PCH and sped off.

He whirled and ran back into the house, grabbing his keys from the dish on his way to the garage. He had to catch her.

He ran into the door to the garage and stopped. He was pissed, completely polluted, and in no shape to drive. He slid down the wall, eyes closed, and pulled out his phone. He tried to get his fingers to work as he sent her a text, begging her to return. He finally sent the message, knowing as he did that she wouldn't answer. Next, he tried to call her. It went straight to voicemail, and he left a message, trying to enunciate to compensate for being pissed.

"Reed, please, don't do this, don't leave like this! Please come back so we can talk, we can't end things like this, we can't!" He hung up and leaned his head back, eyes closed. He didn't know how long he sat in the hallway, next to the garage door, waiting for a message, waiting to hear the sound of her car.

When it was getting dark, he finally rose, sighing heavily, knowing the truth, though he didn't want to admit it.

Reed was gone.

He went out to the deck once more, looking out at the sunset sea, the beautiful waves rolling into the shore. He walked down to the water's edge. He deliberately removed the box containing the ring from his pocket and took the ring out, contemplating it. It seemed to mock him, twinkling in its pink and diamond perfection.

Slowly, Duncan kissed the ring, which he knew now that Reed would never wear. He drew his arm back and heaved it forward, letting it fly. It caught the rays of the setting sun as it soared through the air, landing a good twenty yards out, entering the Pacific with barely a splash.

Duncan walked back to his chair of solitude, picking up the drink he'd left there. He topped off the glass and sat down, taking a swig as he did so.

There was no longer any reason to even try to stay sober.