little bit untamed.
Which was a perfect description for him, really. Wild and untamed.
“CJ,” he said, and then he shook his head. It was as if he were trying very hard not to say something to me.
He finally just decided to go to his sliding glass door and walked out on the terrace. He was still completely naked, but he didn’t seem to realize that. He put his hands on the railing that overlooked the street, and then finally put his head in his hands.
I just laid there in the bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I needed to go out there and confront him. I did wonder what it was that he wanted to say to me. I wondered what was so difficult for him to express. What he was hiding from me, for I knew that he was still hiding something.
I finally got dressed and joined him out on the terrace. He didn’t acknowledge me coming out there with him. He was still completely naked, his muscles and sinew completely taut. He had one long leg up on the stone railing, and he had a drink on the table next to him. At some point, he got up and went to the outdoor bar, and poured himself another drink and sat back down.
I felt like I was holding my breath, waiting for him to say something to me. Something, anything. I just needed answers, and it was clear that he wasn’t giving them to me. Yet, I also felt that I couldn’t speak. I didn’t want to confront him, because I had no idea what was going to come out of his mouth. I was afraid to find out, too, so I chose just to sit there in resolute silence while he did the same. Even so, he was sipping his drink, and staring out into the distance.
From far down below, I heard the distant sound of a foghorn on the harbor. From closer in, I heard cars honking. Traffic lights were changing colors on the street, from green to red and back again. The twinkling lights of hundreds of skyscrapers lit up the entire night sky. The air was misty and slightly cool, and I could see, in the streetlights, the signs of the heavy fog that had enveloped the city.
I couldn’t help but imagine, ruefully, that the fog that had blanketed New York was emblematic of my state of mind. I had felt like there was just too many things that were competing for my headspace, and I couldn’t see my way through any of them.
Asher was rattling the ice around in his glass, still staring at the horizon. His jaw was clenched, and he kept running his hands through his hair.
Finally, he spoke. “I love this view,” he said. “When I first got to the city, I craved having a view like this. There’s such beauty in the city, even though there’s this core that’s seamy and dirty. But, after living in absolute squalor, having this kind of beauty around me was just like heaven.”
I wondered if he felt like the city – beautiful on the outside, yet dark on the inside. I felt just a little bit taken aback by him talking about living in squalor.. “But your father is extremely wealthy. Why would you have been living in squalor?”
He laughed just a little bit ruefully, and took another sip of his drink. “He abandoned us when Natalia and I were only a few months old. He didn’t support the family at all, either. I don’t think that he sent a thin dime to help us. We lived off the social safety net, what little there was for us, along with my mom’s extremely meager salary that she earned as a hospital orderly. It was desperate poverty, but we were pretty happy until Anton started to disappear for days at a time.”
I nodded my head. “That’s when he started to work for your father, right?”
“Yes,” he said. “That’s right. Suddenly, there was money for groceries and for paying the light bill. Before Anton started working for my father, we generally went for weeks without any electricity at all, just because there wasn’t money to pay it. I tried to find jobs to help out, but there weren’t any. When Anton started to bring in money, we were just grateful, and none of us even tried to question
Which was a perfect description for him, really. Wild and untamed.
“CJ,” he said, and then he shook his head. It was as if he were trying very hard not to say something to me.
He finally just decided to go to his sliding glass door and walked out on the terrace. He was still completely naked, but he didn’t seem to realize that. He put his hands on the railing that overlooked the street, and then finally put his head in his hands.
I just laid there in the bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I needed to go out there and confront him. I did wonder what it was that he wanted to say to me. I wondered what was so difficult for him to express. What he was hiding from me, for I knew that he was still hiding something.
I finally got dressed and joined him out on the terrace. He didn’t acknowledge me coming out there with him. He was still completely naked, his muscles and sinew completely taut. He had one long leg up on the stone railing, and he had a drink on the table next to him. At some point, he got up and went to the outdoor bar, and poured himself another drink and sat back down.
I felt like I was holding my breath, waiting for him to say something to me. Something, anything. I just needed answers, and it was clear that he wasn’t giving them to me. Yet, I also felt that I couldn’t speak. I didn’t want to confront him, because I had no idea what was going to come out of his mouth. I was afraid to find out, too, so I chose just to sit there in resolute silence while he did the same. Even so, he was sipping his drink, and staring out into the distance.
From far down below, I heard the distant sound of a foghorn on the harbor. From closer in, I heard cars honking. Traffic lights were changing colors on the street, from green to red and back again. The twinkling lights of hundreds of skyscrapers lit up the entire night sky. The air was misty and slightly cool, and I could see, in the streetlights, the signs of the heavy fog that had enveloped the city.
I couldn’t help but imagine, ruefully, that the fog that had blanketed New York was emblematic of my state of mind. I had felt like there was just too many things that were competing for my headspace, and I couldn’t see my way through any of them.
Asher was rattling the ice around in his glass, still staring at the horizon. His jaw was clenched, and he kept running his hands through his hair.
Finally, he spoke. “I love this view,” he said. “When I first got to the city, I craved having a view like this. There’s such beauty in the city, even though there’s this core that’s seamy and dirty. But, after living in absolute squalor, having this kind of beauty around me was just like heaven.”
I wondered if he felt like the city – beautiful on the outside, yet dark on the inside. I felt just a little bit taken aback by him talking about living in squalor.. “But your father is extremely wealthy. Why would you have been living in squalor?”
He laughed just a little bit ruefully, and took another sip of his drink. “He abandoned us when Natalia and I were only a few months old. He didn’t support the family at all, either. I don’t think that he sent a thin dime to help us. We lived off the social safety net, what little there was for us, along with my mom’s extremely meager salary that she earned as a hospital orderly. It was desperate poverty, but we were pretty happy until Anton started to disappear for days at a time.”
I nodded my head. “That’s when he started to work for your father, right?”
“Yes,” he said. “That’s right. Suddenly, there was money for groceries and for paying the light bill. Before Anton started working for my father, we generally went for weeks without any electricity at all, just because there wasn’t money to pay it. I tried to find jobs to help out, but there weren’t any. When Anton started to bring in money, we were just grateful, and none of us even tried to question
Similar Books
