The Nurse's Station

My Lover

I know I don’t make Jordan happy – that’s a given. I suppose it’s gotten better since we’ve been lovers, but I still feel like I can never do enough, never be the one to make her smile. Then again, Jack’s the only one that does, but that doesn’t help, either. I feel like I should know better, falling in love with someone like her, but I can’t help it. She’s just so beautiful, so amazing, so everything. I know she’s not comfortable when I tell her; she always tries to make light of it, tries to keep it only about the sex, but it’s hard. It’s really, really hard.

“Barbie, focus.”

I look at Jordan, snapping out of my reverie. “Yeah?” I say, studying her. She’s wearing my favorite shirt, the cream-colored one, and a pair of jeans. Her eyes are dark and seem to be asking me for something, something that I just can’t figure out.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” Jordan said, looking almost concerned. “Did you kill someone again?”

I sigh quietly and turn away. “No,” I say simply, not up for a real explanation. By the time I look back, Jordan’s shirt is off and she’s pouting at me.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks quietly, crawling the short distance between us and onto my lap. “I’d hate to think you were mad at me…”

I feel like I should say something, tell her what’s wrong, but by the time she’s this close, my concentration is shot. “I…uh…”

Jordan rolls her eyes and grabs my wrists, putting my hands on her breasts. “God, you’re so out of it tonight. Am I going to have to do everything myself?”

I lean forward and kiss her, loving it and hating it at the same time. She kisses me back with the same ferociousness she always does, and I can’t stand it anymore. I pull back and run my hands through my hair.

“Elliot?”

The use of my real name gives me the courage to go through with it, tell her what’s wrong. “Do I make you happy?” I blurt out, then wince. I could have at least eased into it.

Jordan only looked away for a split second, but it was enough. “Elliot, I–”

I gently push her off and stand up, going into the kitchen to get a beer. “Never mind,” I mumble, handing her one as I sit back down. I drain half of mine one gulp, not caring if I get drunk or not. I turn to her and smile. “Now where were we?”

“Do you want to talk?” she asks, reminding me yet again why I loved her.

I shake my head. “I already made enough of an idiot of myself for tonight.” I move to kiss her but she turns away at the last minute so I only get her cheek.

“It’s not you,” Jordan says. “I don’t even remember the last time I was happy.”

I curl myself into a corner of the couch. “I love you,” I say, not sure why.

Jordan sighs. “I know you do. I’m sorry.” Her eyes lock with mine, and I know she is, or at least the part of her than can be. She smiles sadly and says, “At least we’re lovers, right?”

“No,” I say. “We’re not. We may be sleeping together, but we’re not lovers.”

“No,” she replies. “I guess we’re not.”

Then she kisses me, and I can’t help but kiss her back. I move my lips to her neck and whisper in her ear, “We couldn’t stop even if we wanted to, could we?”

“No,” she repeats. She looks down at me. “Do you want me to leave?”

I shake my head and go back to kissing her. Maybe, some day, something will change. Maybe it is possible to make her happy. Somehow.

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My 40 Snapshots

by Nicole Merrill