R. Lilley - Lovely Trigger

The place had a ton of bathrooms set throughout the sprawling mansion, but I went up to my appointed guest suite and used my private bath to clean up, then combed my hair, and touched up my makeup.

I stared at my dazed expression for a solid five minutes, wondering what the hell was wrong with me.

Was this some new sickness, or had the old one persisted, in spite of everything?

Or was this the result of mishandling the situation altogether?

How were we back to square one six years later, within just a few conversations?

Had that happened because we’d never learned to cope with sharing the same space?  Had never having any contact at all just made us more susceptible to a screw up of epic proportions?

Had we only made ourselves more sensitive to the other’s presence, when what we’d needed was to be desensitized?

Was it just possible that there was some middle ground here?  Some sort of closure to the romantic part of our relationship that I’d never pursued?

I had always thought of Tristan in terms of all or nothing, but clearly, that hadn’t worked.  That failure was currently staring me in the face, and perhaps more mortifying, dripping down my leg.

I could admit that cutting someone that had become such an undeniably significant part of me so completely out of my life had been damaging to me.

It had stunted me.  Stunted my happiness.  Stunted my growth.

That was a fact I’d accepted long ago, in a resigned sort of way, seeing it as a necessary evil.

But what if it wasn’t necessary?  What if it was only detrimental?

Spending some rare time in his company made me realize something new.

I’d been so focused on the bad of him, of us, the bad of all that had happened that I’d forgotten the good.

I’d lived the bad, existed with it every waking hour of every day and some nights, in my dreams, as well.

Why shouldn’t I get a bit of the good?

What if, just maybe, I needed it?

What if it would help me close that chapter of my life?

Being with him was out of the question.  A long-term romantic relationship was absolutely unthinkable.  But a friendship?  Hadn’t I moved on enough to at least give myself that small bit of comfort?

Didn’t I deserve it?

I was expecting it.  I wasn’t even a little bit surprised when Frankie made a point of cornering me.

She and I weren’t the type of friends that fought.  We gave each other shit on a regular basis, but that little scene earlier was as good as a full-on confrontation for us.

I’d known she was going to feel bad about it and quickly try to make it better.

The reception was still in full swing when I returned to the party.  I’d have been surprised if it didn’t go until morning.

I made my way quietly to my table, very acutely aware of the fact that, though I’d cleaned up as well as I could in a hurry, I hadn’t showered.  I was planning to slip away and do that just as soon as I thought it was politely possible.

Frankie joined within a minute of me sitting down.  She was alone.  Almost everyone else from the wedding party was dancing.  Estella was currently going to town as the dancing meat in a Stephan and Javier sandwich.

“You remember that I set you two up, right?” I asked her as I met her very serious eyes.  “You owe me.  I brought that hot thing into your life.”

She shot her longtime girlfriend a fond glance.  “I know it.”  Her face crumpled slightly, not a breakdown, not tears, just screwed up a bit, as though she were in pain.  She looked away.  “You know I love you, right?”

It was my turn to look away.  We were close friends, but not the mushy kind.  Things like this were rarely said between us.  “I do.  I love you too.  You’re one of my closest friends, and I know that your heart is always in the right place.”

“Forgive me?” Her voice had gotten very, very quiet.  “I overstepped back there.  I know it.  It’s just so hard for me to see him suffer any more, and no one can hurt him like you can.  But I overreacted.  I was a dick, and I’m sorry.”

“Frankie, I’m well aware of the position we’ve put you in, and how hard it’s been for you, but you’ve got to stop interfering, and you’ve got to stop thinking it’s your job to protect him or even me.  We are adults, and we don’t need a buffer, much as I might like one, may even have depended on it in the past.  He and I…we need to sort our messes out ourselves.”

“Of course.  And for the record, I never took his side.  Or yours.  You know I’m always just trying to help whichever one of you is hurting the most.”

“I know.  We’re both lucky to have you.”

I considered the matter settled, and apparently so did she as she didn’t mention it again.  We sat there for a long time, just watching the revelry.

There were a lot of people in the colossal reception tent, but I could still tell that there was no sign of Tristan.  He hadn’t returned yet, and I found that odd.  I was sure he’d gone and cleaned up, but he couldn’t possibly need more time than I had, even if he’d taken the time to get in an actual shower, and to change.

I was so involved with this thought process that it took me a moment to realize who else was so glaringly missing.  “Did James and Bianca ditch out on the rest of their own reception, already?”

Frankie laughed.  “I would bet a lot of money that they’re off in the forest somewhere having a quickie.  James is a kinky fuck, but they’ll be back.”

We continued to watch the dancing crowd.  “Who is that Marnie and Judith are assaulting on the dance floor?”

Frankie squinted, then started laughing.  “That’s Jackie’s dad.  Marnie is making it clap for him.  I think Jackie was right.  They’re going to give that poor man a heart attack.  And get a load of Lana and Akira.  They’re making out like teenagers.  God, that guy is huge.”

“He’s hot,” I added.

“So is Lana.  And this is the first time I’ve met her brother, Camden, but he’s smokin’.  This tent is chock-full of hot people.”

“True.  Some good dancers too.”

Finally, I saw Tristan re-enter the tent.  He stopped at the entrance, scanned the crowd, and zeroed in on me.  The second his eyes touched on me, he started striding towards our table.

“Did you two, uh, work out whatever that was you two were having?  Was it a fight?”

I couldn’t quite hide my wince.  “Yeah, I guess we worked it out.”

“So you finally had a good talk?  You both disappeared for a while.”

“I guess.  You know how we are.  It’s complicated.”

“Complicated.  Now there’s an understatement of epic fucking proportions.”

I had to laugh.  She wasn’t wrong.

And that’s how Tristan found us as he approached, laughing and relaxed.

The relaxed part went a bit south as he sat right next to me, and I instinctively started to tense up.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Frankie told us with a grin.  “I have some freaking to do on that dance floor.”

“Who the hell calls it freaking?” I called to her back, but she just kept walking.

It wasn’t easy, but I made myself turn and look him in the eye.

I’d likely be mortified in the morning over what we’d done, but I thought the entire thing was too new for my shocked mind to react appropriately.

His face was sober.  “We need to talk.”

That surprised a laugh out of me.  “We just tried that.  Didn’t exactly work out.”

“I wouldn’t say that.  I’d say it was cut short.  I’d like to try again.”

I couldn’t stop laughing.  “I bet you would!”

Finally, his solemn face cracked into a smile.  I had to clench my fists to keep from touching one of those calamitous dimples.  “Well, yes, of course I would.  God, Danika, I’ve missed you, even just to see you laughing again.”

I looked down at my hands, the laughter dying a bit.  “I think you’re right.  I think you’ve always been right.  We should be friends.  I miss that, too.  I know you’re worried that I’ll never speak to you after this—after that little scene back in the forest, but you don’t need to worry.  That was insanity, and it does not need to happen again, but we can be adults here.  I…won’t be a stranger when we get back to town.  I’ll give you a call.  We can sit down for coffee, or, you know, something.”

There was a very long pause on his end, and I wondered which part of what I said was eating at him.

He didn’t address that though, instead said, “Do you mean it this time, or are you just blowing me off like last time?”

I sent him a rueful smile.  I hadn’t meant it last time, and I had blown him off.  But I found that, shockingly, I’d had a real change of heart.  “I mean it this time.”

I did mean it but, while I didn’t avoid him for the rest of the weekend, I also made sure our contact was limited.  It was necessary.  I needed time to think, to have a battle plan before we started to transition into this friendship idea.

We’d been at war for way too long for me to delude myself that a battle plan wouldn’t be necessary, even when we were playing nice.

I was packing to leave for home, the happy couple already having ditched the party and jetted off to God knew where, to do God knew what kind of kinky shit, when I noticed something odd.

My perfume was missing.  I did a quick search of the bathroom, but there weren’t that many places it could have gone, and I’d thought the small bottle was sitting right on the counter.

I was annoyed.  I loved that perfume, and it wasn’t cheap, but I shrugged it off.  Some lost perfume was really the least of my problems.

Tristan managed to corner me one last time before I took off.

The wedding’s location was remote, and so all of the guests had been flown to the nearest airstrip, and driven in limos the rest of the way.  I couldn’t even wrap my mind around how expensive that must have been, but there was no doubt that James could afford it.

Even so, people were sharing rides to the airstrip and planes to their various destinations.  It only made sense.

Tristan and I hadn’t flown or driven in together, even though we’d come from the same place.

He could not understand why we couldn’t share on the way home.

He’d actually come to my room to talk about it, charged into the space, sprawling out on the room’s only chair like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I supposed it was better than the bed.

I stayed by the door, determined not to do anything stupid for the five minutes it would take me to get rid of him.

“Stop being pushy,” I told him, arms crossed over my chest.  It felt surreal to be talking to him as though no time had passed, but it was happening so naturally.  “See, this is the problem.  I give an inch, you take five more.  Knock it off.”

He grinned, leaning forward in his chair.  “C’mon.  It will be fun.  We can play some road trip games.  Remember all of our games?”

I sighed.  Of course, I remembered.  “Not this time, Tristan.  I need a few days to think.  Like I said, I’ll call you.  Now if you’ll excuse me.”

“No,” he said casually, his smile dying.  “I do not excuse you.”

He stood and moved so close to me that I backed away.  “I’ll give you a few days, but if I don’t hear from you, I am coming for you.  This is fair warning.”

I glared at him.  “Dramatic much?  I said I’d call, I’ll call.  I said I needed a few days, give me a few days.”

I told myself that the reason we’d done that idiotic thing was because I’d kept myself too tightly leashed.  If we could see each other more often, but casually, it wouldn’t be like that.  We wouldn’t have to lose our minds, if we weren’t scared that we’d never see each other again.

I didn’t call him right away.  Not because I was a coward.

Well, okay, I was putting it off because our last encounter had left me shaken.  I’d lost my mind.  There was no other way to put it.  And that wasn’t even the scary part.

What would we do for an encore?  It didn’t bear thinking about.

But I did think about it.  Constantly, incessantly, I obsessed about what to do about him.

Even so, it was a month before I saw him again and only then because he forced the issue.

The showing was substantial in size, though not in notability.  Five artists were being featured, each with two rooms in the spacious L.A. gallery devoted to their theme.  It was very involved.  I’d been putting it together for nearly a year.