Was this what a condemned man felt at the start on the path to his execution?
Sato stood where the shuttle that Paula had ordered for him had deposited him and looked down the length of the sidewalk. He’d walked that cement path probably a million times, come home from trips out of town innumerable times without thinking any differently about it, and never once feared setting his foot upon it.
It was stupid to be afraid of what he’d long thought inevitable, but it was such a big thing to be finally making it a reality. Or hoping to, he reminded himself.
He picked up his suitcase, hefted the backpack further on his shoulder, and took the first step. As he walked, his mind flashed over a hundred things — Paula, what she’d look like, how she’d greet him, how he’d greet her, what they’d say to each other after a week apart, and the thing that had been bugging him for four days now… how would the proposal happen.
The door to their apartment before him at last, he set down the suitcase and pulled out his keys to open it. He laughed as soon as he pushed it. If Paula ever stopped caring, at least there was still Disraeli. He bent down, giving the oversized, overly talkative orange cat an equal amount of rubs and pets and words.
“Okay, Disraeli,” he ordered with a snap of a finger, pointing it back to the inside of the apartment. “Move it so I can get in, will ya?”
“I don’t know why you don’t just take him with you when you visit your parents. He’s worse than a kid missing his mommy when you’re gone.”
Sato dumped the suitcase inside and closed the door behind him. The backpack slid to the floor with a soft thud. Across the room, at her computer as he’d expected, Paula was untangling her loose hair from the headphones. She rose and he watched her with unguarded desire as she came towards him.
“Cat hair and whatever he hacks up as presents? In my mother’s immaculate house?” Sato gave a playful shudder. “It’ll never happen,” he announced before opening his arms for her to slip into.
Once upon a time, she would have been waiting for him at the airport gate, full of smiles, arms and hands all over him, the other travelers be damned. With maturity and familiarity, she had lost that overwhelming exuberance, unlike Disraeli, but the strength of her embrace and the softness of her mouth hadn’t changed.
“So you survived after all,” she teased him, using her weight to keep him with his back against the door, her arms languidly draped around his shoulders.
“I don’t know. It’s still too close to call it definite.”
He locked her into another deep, drawn out kiss and pushed off from the door, heading them in the direction of the sofa. His body ached for her, demanding to feel her curves, her skin. Senses longed for the taste and scent he knew, to hear her voice saying his name, telling him what he wanted to hear. He needed to bury himself in her, lose himself in the experience of loving her, fly as he had in the bizarre dream of the morning hours, just as free and awe struck.
“At least one part of me survived,” he joked, his words husky with lust as he pushed her onto the cushions and rubbed his hardness against her.
“More than one part,” Paula corrected him, “and in a very interesting area for what we’re doing.” She freed her lips from his hungry mouth and dropped her head back. A hand felt around the area of his breast and patted the lump there. “I’m getting poked in two places. Should I be worried?”
All jokes aside, there were definitely times when men did think only with their cocks, Sato mused to himself. He should’ve slipped out of the jacket first. He should’ve packed the ring in his backpack. Maybe he should’ve waited until he got back to Los Angeles to buy it in the first place.
“Oh, that,” he mumbled, pulling back to sit up between her long, bared legs. It wasn’t his idea of romantic, but the moment had sort of presented itself. And, it wouldn’t be any easier at another time. He reached into the pocket, pulled out the little box, and taking one of her hands, placed it on the palm.
“What’s this?”
“Open it and see.”
The excitement he’d felt the day he’d purchased it returned. He felt his grin take control of his face as he watched her position the box in her hands to open it, then held his breath.
Her soft blue eyes grew wide the moment they saw what was within. “Jim… “ She shut her eyes and closed the box, curling her fingers around it. “Jim… it’s beautiful… but… “
“But?” he finally prompted when she didn’t continue. It definitely hadn’t been the response he wanted. “But what? It’s too expensive? Too ostentatious? Too big? Too small?” He gave a theatrical sigh and sat back on his heels, still between her legs. “Please tell me you don’t want it because diamond mining is slavery or raping the land.”
Paula scooted back and collected her legs, throwing them over the side of the sofa. “We need to talk,” she said, standing. She set the box on the low table in front of her, a single finger straying over the surface of the velvet. “I’ll be right back.”
Left alone, Sato repositioned himself and sat quiet, unable to think straight. He stared at the box. She hadn’t even bothered to humor him by taking the ring out, trying it on, admiring its beauty. She could’ve done that much, at least, he dismally thought, even if she was resolutely against marrying him.
Promptly, he stopped the direction of his thoughts, cooling his rising temper before it took control of everything. Hadn’t he told his mother she might turn him down? Hadn’t he gone over and over the many reasons why she would feel compelled to?
A few minutes later, Paula returned from the kitchen, holding two bottles of beer. In one hand, her fingers gripped a large envelope. “You’re going to need this,” she commented, handing him one of the opened bottles, “for when you see this.” Dropping the envelope beside him, she stepped back and sat in the chair across the coffee table from him.
Sato took a long swig of the beer, staring at something as innocuous as an envelope and knowing it for an enemy. He set the bottle on the table and picked it up, lifting the flap to pull out the paperwork within. His eyes took in the words, but his mind refused to believe.
“Calcutta?” Of all the places her expertise could take her, some place as distant and primitive as India had never occurred to him. He looked up at her, wondering how long ago it had occurred to her — and why.
She knew he would react with surprise, though how he couldn’t have thought of it as a possibility was a surprise in itself. ”Countries like India need a lot of help. They don’t have the resources Europe and the States have. They don’t have the money, either. They can afford someone still wet behind the ears like me.” Paula leaned forward in the chair and dipped her head. “Because of the British, they have incredible collections… just sitting there. The research potential and chance to get practical experience is a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. You know that.” She lifted her head and gave him a look that told him he should know much more than that. “I want to travel… to see the world. I need to. It’s in my blood.”
“I’ve known you wanted to travel… from the very first evening we talked.” Sato replaced the documents in their envelope with slow, deliberate care, and reached for his beer to take another long drink. He played with the label for a bit, picking at an edge to start it peeling, feeling frustrated. “The world can’t wait another couple of years?” he finally asked then looked up. “India will still be there and still need help.”
“The world can wait,” Paula quickly answered him. “I can’t.”
Sato snorted, angry and hurt. “I’m sorry. I had no idea you were so anxious to get away from me.”
“Jim… “ Paula dropped to the ground and made her way to him, grasping a knee and squeezing it, hoping to get him to understand. “I’m not. I just can’t stand to stay here anymore. I’ve got to get out of L.A., out of the States. If I don’t… I feel like I’ll be trapped here if I don’t take this chance now.”
“I could still go with you,” he said, hanging on to hope. He shrugged and gave a little smile. “After all, India is practically British. There’s plenty for me to look into.”
“There is and you could,” she agreed, but her sad smile and caress along his arm told him she didn’t want him there. “And you’d hate it after a few weeks. Your heart just isn’t into colonialism. You live for the gritty world of London and the green of the rolling hills of the mother country…. the Bronte sisters instead of Kipling. You prefer the familiar over the exotic.”
“God, Paula,” Sato exclaimed and stood to pace, needing to work off a week’s worth of tension made worse by coming home to his world falling apart. “You make me sound like I’m my father. There’s a man who really holds on to the familiar with a steel grip.”
“I know you’re nothing like your father. You never will be. But there’s a big difference between visiting a place and actually living there. I’m committed to three years.”
“You’ve already accepted it?” Sato whipped around and stared at Paula with disbelief. “You never thought to talk to me about it?”
“No,” she answered simply, her voice quiet and head bowed. “I knew you’d be against it. What was the point? I’m not about to throw this opportunity in the trash. They don’t grow on trees, you know.”
Sato let out a howl that sent Disraeli, dogging his heels since he’d stood, scurrying for the bedroom. “But you were more than willing to throw away a relationship seven years in the making.” Hands on hips, he stood staring down at a woman he wasn’t sure he knew anymore. “And me.”
Paula looked up at him, her countenance sad rather than angry, and shook her head. “I never looked on it as throwing us or you out of my life. You’re putting ideas into my head that were never there. Jim… I just don’t think getting married right now is the thing to do.” She rose from the floor and took his place on the sofa, taking a drink from the bottle of beer she’d given him. The black velvet box sat there, as accusatory as Jim in its inanimate silence. “I looked on it as gaining unique experience while you worked on your doctorate. We’ve known there was a strong chance I’d need to move away from L.A. in order to get my career started.”
“India… anywhere outside of the country… wasn’t something that was discussed. It’s not like I can just jump on a weekend flight to come see you,” Sato replied, still angry. “I certainly didn’t think you’d take something without talking to me first.” He looked to the table and pointed at the box. “And that… that is nothing more than a promise of marriage in the future… something I did think we were on the same wave length about. But you can’t give me even that much commitment.”
“Jim… “
“How long have you known about this?” he blurted, cutting off any remark from her.
“I saw the announcement last month. The paperwork came while you were in Phoenix. It wasn’t something I could tell you about over the phone… not even if I hadn’t expected an argument from you about it. I had to make the decision for myself, for my career. I woke up Thursday morning knowing it was right for me, contacted them and accepted. Where are you going?” she suddenly asked when he turned on his heel and started for the door.
“What do you care,” he tossed over his shoulder, slamming the door on his way out.
