“I'm sorry, this may seem odd, but a friend of mine was involved in an incident in Turkey. Horrible situation, but I've heard nothing but praise for a certain agent …”
Yes, Mr. Canaan was an excellent agent, Misch was informed, but he simply didn't handle jobs like hers. He was originally a field man, though he'd been working a desk for the past couple months.
They put him behind a desk!? That's like keeping a tiger in a cage.
She replied that she didn't care. If he was the best, she wanted the best. Arguing happened, though she tried her best to keep it flirty. She pushed the man just far enough for him to snap at her. Just far enough to give her what she wanted.
“Look, I'm sorry, but Mr. Canaan simply can't work for you. His desk is here, but he's been working out of a field office.”
And that's all he would say. He became a rock after that, wouldn't utter a word, and eventually asked her to leave. But that's all she really needed from him, anyway. She thanked the man for his time, then left.
She walked around for a while, frowning at the ground, dragging her feet. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe it had been too long. Surely, if he wanted her to find him, Tal would've made it possible. But this was impossible. He had no family, no friends in America. His job wouldn't say where he was, for obvious reasons. He'd changed his phone number. A call to her father revealed that he genuinely didn't know where Tal was, either. He was just … gone.
All pretty clear cut signs that he'd given up on her. That things were over between them. She couldn't blame him, not really. After all, she gave up on him. It was kind of fair. It was … karmic. Misch was sad, but she was understanding. She had tried her best, but it was too little, too late. He couldn't be expected to wait forever.
She'd fallen in love with him in Rome. She'd been in love with him when she'd left Istanbul. She was still in love him, right then and there. And she would still be in love with him tomorrow. And the day after. All the days. All those moments between those seconds. Timeless. Their love would always be alive; a living, beating heart, but just caught in a moment. Caught in their time. Maybe that's all they were. Just a time in love.
Just a time in an affair.
She wanted to hate herself. It was a feeling that typically came easy, after she'd left Turkey. But Tal had told her that she wasn't a horrible person. That her bad decisions didn't define her. She tried to think of what he'd say if he was there, and she was pretty sure he'd tell her that loving him, that him loving her, was proof enough that she wasn't horrible.
She would honor his memory, honor his words.
Don't forget us, he'd asked her. She wouldn't.
Remember me, he'd told her. She always would.
And she was still dancing, still smiling, and still laughing, just like he'd asked. Life wasn't so bad, and she could make it better. Being without him had already been hard when she'd been feigning indifference. It was going to be harder, knowing what she knew now about his feelings. About her feelings. But she could get through it. She would get through it.
For Tal.
Come find me …
~Tal~
When I think of Mischa, certain things come to mind immediately.
Exotic.
Smart.
Great legs.
Fun.
Sexy as fuck.
Love.
I know what we did was fucked up and what I did was fucked up, but honestly, none of it ever mattered. The only reason I ever talked to her was because of just that, I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to be close to her. Wanted to touch her, as much of her as possible, as much of her as she'd let me.
She let me touch all of her, especially her heart. That was the deal breaker, right there. That's when “just sex” flew out the window and “holy shit, I need this girl to be a part of my life” entered the picture. I never once cared that she was married – if he was taking care of his shit, she wouldn't be there, plain and simple. Maybe that's fucked up, but oh well. Cheating is just a symptom for something else that's wrong. Should she have cheated? Fuck, no. Weak move. But she had been a weak person.
I wanted to make her stronger.
Eventually, I also didn't care that I could lose my job. It didn't matter. She had never been about the job. I never saw her as part of it. I didn't care.
The only thing I cared about was her.
Probably the only thing I had ever really cared about, was her.
I needed more time. Time is an issue with me, I'm always going somewhere, doing something. Busy, busy, busy. I should've made more time for her. Given her more time to trust me, to trust herself. That fucking guy, I swear. Her husband fucks with her heart, makes her doubt him, in turn she doubts herself, so she doubts what's between us.
Then again, that doubt also brought her to me. I believe in fate, so if that's what it took to bring her to me, then that's what it took. Sorry, everyone, only not really.
But I have to wonder … why did fate take her away?
I miss her so goddamn much. I didn't even know her for that long, how can I miss her so much that it hurts every part of my body? Every part of my day?
All those years, bumming around, being an adrenaline junkie, being the job. I was actually looking for her.
But see, that's the scary part. It took me so long to find her.
What if she never finds me?
~Epilogue~
Mischa sighed and flipped a page in her book, wiping sweat from her forehead.
Why does it have to be so fucking hot all the time!?