The Whole World and Me

He had dreamed about that moment so many nights, imagined it, and fantasized about it more than anything else. What would she say? What would he say? There were too many emotions and feelings, too many memories that tainted every fantasy he had. There was no way of knowing it and life had already taught him that it is rarely as we imagine it.

“Hello?” one word was enough to make him gasp, to make his tongue heavy and motionless and to fill his head with images of her face. “Hello?” she insisted. “Lawrence? Is that you?” He sighted and answered simply “Yes.”. “Hi” she replied breathy, “How are you?” He was suddenly angry, flooded by dark red feelings of hate against that beautiful creature that was responsible for his demise. “How am I? What the fuck do you want Marina?” he said fuming. He heard her gasp on the other side and swallowing she continued “Well, maybe I deserve that… I need to talk to you Lawrence.” “Then talk.” He said still holding on to the vile feeling that was filling his stomach. “Not on the phone, I need to talk to you in person. Can we meet?” He wanted to yell, to tell her to fuck off and leave him alone. But the prospect of seeing her one more time, of smelling her sweet flowery scent and look into her ocean green eyes were just too much for him and bigger, much bigger than his hate and so, against his better judgment, he caved in. “Ok. I’m in the city, I can meet you in one hour.”. “Brilliant.” She replied smiling. “Let’s meet at the park, ok? One hour.” He hung up and closed his eyes with a profound dread. What had he done?

Walking alone in this noisy city, he considered standing her up. She deserved it, that was a given. She had always had that power, that special and rare way of making people do what she wanted. That gift, that wonderful gift, had turned out to be a curse for him as once again he found himself doing exactly what she wanted. He stopped himself and considered once more if he should really meet her. Was he even prepared to see her once again? Was he going to spend the next six months in bitter agony once more? He couldn't handle that. His body couldn't handle that. He was just starting to recover, to feel like himself again Was this really a good idea?

Standing there, in the middle of the street on a busy afternoon, he looked around to the familiar rhythm of the city that had once been theirs. He saw a small bar across the street and feeling a sudden urge for the advice that only alcohol could provide, he walked towards it and opened the heavy door. The bar was dark, all wood, and smelled of spilled beer. He sat on one of the many empty stools and signaled the man behind the counter. The white haired man had benevolent blue eyes, the kind of eyes that have seen too much and could not be fooled any more. He looked at Lawrence knowingly and asked what he was having. “Jack Daniels,  please. Make it a double actually.” He replied, not lifting his eyes from the wood counter.  The man made himself busy, ignoring Lawrence. He gave him the glass and walked way.

The bar was empty and the light dim. An old jazz record played in the background and as he took his firs sip he let his mind wander to the day he decided to ask her to marry him.

Will Lawrence and Marina meet in the next Chapter?! You'll find out soon :)

If you missed the other chapters, click below!

Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III

He ran to the house and pressed the button to listen to her voice, he just had to. “Hi Lawrence, it’s Marina. I thought I would find you there, at least Nick told me you have been living there, but I guess you’re not in. Well…I guess I’ll call you tomorrow or maybe you can call me when you hear this…I need to talk to you. Bye.” After listening to it one more time, Lawrence picked up the phone and dialed the familiar number. Nick, his agent and best friend, picked up only to ask Lawrence to wait. “Sorry man, it’s just so crowded in here I could hardly hear you. So how are you?”. “How am I? – Lawrence asked – Well I'm trying to understand why Marina called you to ask for me and you didn't tell me”. “Oh I see – Nick said – She asked me not to tell you Lawrence. I wanted to, but she told me she was afraid you wouldn't talk to her if you knew she was looking for you. I’m sorry; I just thought it was the best thing to do. So did you talk to her?”. “I don’t care what she told you, I mean…I care and I want to know it word by word, but you should have told me!”. “I’m really sorry, man. Why don’t we meet tomorrow and talk about it? Why don’t you come down to the city and we’ll have lunch?”. “Alright – Lawrence said, there was really no other option – I’ll meet you at 1 p.m.”.

He had successfully avoided coming to the city during the last six months. Just driving those familiar streets made him shiver with fear and excitement. He kept thinking: What if she crosses the street when he’s stopped at the red light? What if she is in the car right next to him? What would he do? And more than that, what would she do? He kept thinking of all the reasons that could explain her phone call, her eagerness to speak to him. He was curious and, worse than that, he was hopeful. Hopeful that she had realized she had made a huge mistake by leaving him. But he knew, as well as he knew the sun always rises in the morning, that filling his heart with hope was a trap, most probably a deathly one. There was only one way to find out, but he was willing to start with Nick, at least to know what her tone was when they spoke. 

Nick was waiting for him and for the first time in years he wasn't on the phone making him wait at least 15 minutes before he could pay him attention. There was only one person who knew how bad it had been, how bad it still was for him, and it was with this knowledge and respect that Nick had made sure all his calls were held during their lunch. The great thing about good friends is that you can go straight to the point avoiding all the polite chit chat about the weather and last night’s game. He dove into it without even looking at the menu of his favorite restaurant: “What exactly did she say?”. Nick held the menu in his hands and knowing his friend put it down and told word by word what had happened: “ She called me 2 days ago asking for you. She only said she needed to speak with you and that it was very important. Nothing else. Well, besides «please don’t tell Lawrence I called». She was upset Lawrence, really upset.” Lawrence considered his words for a moment. “Upset how?” he asked. “Upset like upset, man. She sounded nervous. But I can’t really say more and if you want to find out you have to call her.” Nick faced his friend and asked the question that was on both their minds: “Are you?”. Lawrence sighted. He couldn't say. He was so torn between knowing and speaking to her again and the pain that could so easily follow that same conversation... There were too many possibilities, too many “ifs” in this equation and although the answer was a simple yes or no, nothing, specially in this case, is as simple as it seems. He finally spoke: “I figure I have two choices. Either I call and find out once and for all what she wants or I keep guessing and try to forget it. I think we both know what I have to do, but we also know what I’m going to do...” he said honestly. Without a warning, he took his cell phone and dialed her number. 
What was the worst thing that could happen?

Wrapping the towel around his waist, Lawrence left the bathroom and stood in front of the phone and answering machine. The red light beaming, taunting him, was almost hypnotic. Divided between the urge of listening to her voice again and the sharp pain he was already feeling in his stomach, he decided not to press the button. He would be better off oblivious. He threw on an old t-shirt and jeans and left the cottage to the silent exterior. The lake stood still under the dim moonlight. It was just him and the nocturnal animals, he was safe. He walked the small distance to the old wood garage that he had converted into his painting studio and went in. The room smelled and looked comfortingly like he had left it the day before. His instincts drove him there, to the only place where it was safe for him to express the wave of feelings bursting inside. The first stroke of black paint on the white canvas was like a weight coming off his shoulders. He felt instantly relaxed and kept on painting by feeling, without thinking or analyzing what he was doing. One hour later, he saw her face in front of him. “Marina…” He could paint her in every way possible just by closing his eyes and remembering. All the little details, shape and colour of her body, were engraved in his memory forever and not even time would erase them. He had painted her so many times before, on that very same room, but with her lying on the floor, or curled up in the old velvet chair, naked or not but always smiling, laughing and teasing him. She was his muse, for better or for worse, and so he kept on painting her and his impression of her long after she left. As an artist he was painfully aware his best work was from his darkest times. The inspiration he drank from his sadness and depression would translate into beautiful, sometimes very gloomy, compositions that were incomparably better, richer and deeper. There was only one exception and that was, of course, his “Marina period” like his agent liked to call. She gave him a new horizon, a new way of looking and experience life that enriched his art. They would talk for hours about it and with her he discovered new movements and new ways of expressing what he felt. He knew she had broadened his concepts and was largely responsible for his evolution and success as a painter; one more reason why he was unable to let her go. 

Seating on an old bench, he looked at the canvas and at her face and remembered, like so many times before, the day they had met. The day his life changed forever. Marina was an art dealer working for different galleries and private clients. Known for her eye and ability to find new talents, she would spend a lot of her time visiting the studios of young artists and art students. That’s how they met. In a very cliché way, she came to his studio to see his work only to leave it with him to have dinner 5 hours later. Their relationship began almost immediately. There was no dating period, no conversation to go steady, it had been a natural click and on both their minds there was no doubt they belonged together. She was his number one fan and truly believing in his talent, she had organized an exhibition that launched his career making him the next big thing. They were the perfect couple until they weren't, until she decided to leave on that spring morning. “Marina…”

Stay tuned for Chapter III...

xx

The phone rang insistently on the empty cottage; its sound echoing in the wood panelled walls and ceiling. Lawrence was oblivious to the sound, his ears full of water from the first shower he took in days. He stood still under the water enjoying the freshness and peace. As he stepped out of the old bathtub he heard his own voice on the boring and mechanical message he had recorded on his answering machine. He fetched the towel without even wondering who could be calling so late at night at his lake house. And then he heard her voice; her low, sexy, deep voice. His brain was immediately flooded with images from his past making him deaf, blind and motionless. Her long, wavy, dark hair falling on her small freckled shoulders; her cat green eyes curiously looking at him; the sound she made every time they've made love… “Marina” his mind whispered on his ear. He stood there, dripping all over the bathroom floor, the towel still in his hand, his short red hair soaked. “Marina” was all he could hear, taste and see. With just one word, one simple word she was back, haunting him, mummifying him in that second. “Marina…”

Six months had passed since he had last heard that voice: that voice that could always drive him crazy with emotions; that could take him from the highest pleasure to the deepest anger in a split second. He had secluded himself in his lake house to escape this power, this ghost that made him feel small and weak. He was so deeply and completely in love with her that he couldn't bring himself to fight the urge to walk by her house, stand on the corner of the street and just look at her window, hoping to see her once again. He had run, powerless and cowardly, because he wasn’t man enough to stand up to his own feelings. He was a prisoner of this mad love and all he could do was run away as fast and as far as possible. The lake house was a safe heaven, even though they had spent so many hours together under its old ceiling. All those weekend’s escapades when they would spontaneously fled the city to spend two days immersed on one another and the nature surrounding them. There was no one else in the entire World; it was just him and Marina. “Marina” his brain whispered again.

Stay tuned for the next chapter...