Ambrosia

8

Rèva and I used to be lovers, yes. She picked me up at a bar when I was only nineteen and would jump at any occasion to have great sex with older women. I was young, in New York and trying to sell my stories to the biggest editors there was. I wrote in the bar below my appartement every night, drinking Screwdrivers with my glasses from another century and my hair all tangled. Rèva was a regular and some night when I was not feeling my best, she saw me crying on a stool then bought me a drink. She wasn't hitting on me at first, she was just trying to give me comfort.

My work wasn't selling, I had troubles making ends meet and even Steve's - the bartender - banter couldn't cheer me up that night. But when I looked in those beautiful grey eyes I stopped crying instantly, trying to pull myself together. She was wonderful : she was fun, sexy, witted and was great at making people talk (no wonder she is a PI). She bought me drinks after drinks, listening to my troubles and that night we went up in my appartement and I had the best sex I would ever have. When I fell asleep in her arms I told myself that she was the kind of woman who I could settle down for.

But in the morning she wasn't there. She had left a note with her number on it and I carried it in my phone case for months (I'm not obsessed, just a girl in love). We went out a couple of times but Rèva as it turned out wasn't a girl who would settle down. She couldn't help her charm and flirted with waitresses when we were at restaurants, that sort of thing. But I was falling for her so hard.

She also helped my career a lot, she read my books and called in a couple of favors and I was officially a writer. And a big one too.

I was indebted to her so I let things slide, after all I was a player too.

One night, after a day of signing autographs and doing a TED Talk, I decided to do something big for her. We went to a fancy restaurant and I got her two gifts. The first one was a ticket to Hollywood where I was supposed to go, and the second a diamond ring that shone like the sun. Instead of the response I longed for - Yes Ambrosia I would go anywhere with you - she told me she liked me and considered me a good friend and a good fuck but we couldn't make a real relationship work. She wasn't ready to abandon her life as a bachelor (and still isn't), and I had my heart broken.

I left the restaurant, tore up her flight ticket and cried for days, not returning her calls or her messages.

I went out to Boston for a weekend and that's when I met my wife.

She was beautiful, sitting on a bench under a tree with pink flower, she had a couple of petals in her hair. I will never forget the day I met her. I sat beside her and I saw the same sad eyes I was seeing when I looked in the mirror. Somehow I knew she was in pain. You think this is perfect ? SHE WAS READING ONE OF MY BOOKS ! Not one of the romantic ones, but a dark and deep thriller that took me over seven months to write (minus the rewriting) and that had gotten me a prize (a small one but a prize is a prize eh ?).

When I sat beside her she slowly took her dark brown marvelous eyes of the book and looked at me up and down, then turned the cover and said

« That's not you, is it ??? »
« That is absolutely me, I answered chuckling. Fernanda is one of my best characters »
« You don't say, they should make this into a movie »
« They almost did... »

But then all the sadness I was carrying felt like a boulder on my head. She wasn't wearing a wedding ring. So I asked her to dinner and through the night i saw the best in her. I didn't make the same mistakes I did with Rèva. I didn't sleep with her right away : we went on dates where she was absolutely charming. She came back to New York with me after two weeks and we stayed at a fancy hotel called Le Rocher. In french it means boulder, I found it amusing at the time. We made sweet love we had pancakes delivered to our room we took baths together... all that I wanted to do with Rèva.

One day I got a call from her, begging me to forgive me. She missed our friendship she said. I missed it too. So we went to our bar and we kissed but it didn't feel the same anymore. It felt bitter sweet, it felt like the past. So I told her that I couldn't, that I was in a relationship now. She laughed, bewildered.

« Well look at you now ! A girlfriend ! I'm happy for you even though I will miss seeing you in doggystyle »
« Shut up, I laughed and hit her arm. I think she's the real deal. »
« And how old is the miss ? »
« Thirty one you nosey chick. Her name is Rebecca, but I call her Becks because she hates it. »
« Woaw so you really have a thing han. I hope she takes good care of ya. I guess she won't want me around so hit me up when you break up »

But we never did. At least never more then two days apart. And just like that we were married. It was like a fairytale. Then I started to see the darkness in her. The thirst that has gotten us to this point. You think you know a gal...
——————
I was in the shower and Becks bursted in.

« Don't think you can just have sex with me and not explain what happened last night. Where the fuck were you Ambrosia ? »

Well, I was in deep shit....