Three of Hearts: Part 5

The spring breeze felt warm and comforting as it blew in from the open glass balcony door, rustling the curtains before caressing Naoto’s cheek. He sat on the floor of the living room, leaning back against the couch as he read the words on the screen of his laptop. Beside the machine sat a scattering of papers on the glass coffee table; beside them rested a pen and a glass of iced oolong tea.
"I need an ending," Naoto whispered into the room, closing his eyes as he threw his head back. As he took a break from his writing, listening to the music coming from the stereo, he began to wonder where Ken had gone off to. For the past week, Naoto had noticed as Ken became a little distant. His friend and roommate was as cheery and friendly as ever, but Naoto had lately noticed a far off tone in his voice when he spoke. It seemed like Ken was keeping something to himself, as if he were trying not to bother Naoto with his thoughts. The writer wondered if something had happened while he was meeting with his editor that Sunday a week ago.
The doorbell suddenly rang, breaking Naoto from his thoughts. He stood to answer it as it rang again, the second ring sounding more impatient than the first.
"I’m coming!" he said, striding over to answer the door before a third ring sounded. He pulled the door open and found himself gazing into a pair of blue eyes belonging to a young woman about his own age.
"Yes?" he asked.
"Ah, I hope I have the right apartment," the woman said in Japanese with the slightest of accents. "I’m looking for Ken Thompson."
"Thompson?" Naoto thought for a moment; he vaguely remembered Ken mentioning his father’s name before. "Oh yeah. Ken lives here. He’s not in at the moment though. He didn’t mention anyone coming to visit before he left. Are you a friend?"
"You could say that," the woman replied.
"I don’t know how long he’ll be gone, but you can come in and wait." She nodded, entering the apartment as Naoto stepped aside. As she passed him, he caught the faintest scent of a perfume about her. She was dressed well in what appeared to be an expensive looking navy suit; her jacket accentuated her figure nicely while her skirt, stopping just above her knees, showed off her long, shapely legs. Medium length brown hair cascaded down her back, ending in large curls, and her skin was slightly tanned. Pink tinted lips matched the color of her blouse; as she removed her shoes, Naoto noticed her toes and fingers were painted in a matching shade. Compared to her, he, in his jeans and white buttondown shirt, looked like someone struggling to make ends meet. Something about her made him feel uncomfortable, but Naoto kept his face calm and tried to push the feeling away.
"This place is pretty," she commented, gazing around the room in awe.
"Thanks," Naoto replied. "Can I get you anything while you wait?" She continued to gaze around the room as she thought. Her eyes fell on the glass next to his laptop, the ice tinkling against the sides of the cup as it settled.
"I’ll have whatever you were drinking." He nodded before going to the kitchen to pour another glass of tea.
"By the way," Naoto called over his shoulder. "I didn’t catch your name."
"I didn’t give it. I’m Maria, Maria Rizer. Has Ken mentioned me before?" He froze; that was not the name he had expected to hear. He had to consciously force himself to keep his face calm as he picked up the filled glass and brought it to the living room, the uncomfortable feeling slowly returning.
"He’s mentioned you once or twice in passing," he replied, forcing his voice to remain steady. As he neared her, Naoto noticed Maria bent over the coffee table, reading from his notes and laptop.
"Did you write this?" she asked, accepting the tea from him. He could feel her eyes on him as he gathered his papers together, setting them in a neat pile before he closed the laptop.
"Why do you ask?" He avoided her question on purpose. She didn’t seem to notice as she took a sip of tea before setting it on the table.
"You write well," Maria said. "Your style is almost like one of my favorite authors." She paused, looking at his face closely; Naoto could imagine that he saw the gears turning in her head. "The nameplate next to the door says Matsumoto and Tsuzuki. I know Ken’s mother was named Tsuzuki. So then, that means your name is Matsumoto, right?"
"Yeah...." Naoto cursed the nervous tone he heard in his own voice. He tried to tear his eyes away from her intense, suddenly ice blue gaze but she wouldn’t let him.
"What’s your first name?" she asked.
"Naoto."
"Has anyone ever called you Nao?" Instead of answering, he kept silent. Somehow Maria took the silence as an affirmative answer. A twinkling suddenly seemed to fill her eyes. While others would have found it charming, Naoto found it unsettling. She pressed on. "Could you possibly be Nao Matsumoto, the romance novelist?" He continued to remain silent, but that was enough for her. Before he had time to think, Maria’s face burst into a smile, her voice suddenly becoming excited like a child’s when she next spoke.
"This is so neat!" she nearly shouted. "I read your books all the time. I first heard of you when I was an exchange student. I’ve read every one of your books since then. I always thought you had to be one incredible lover with the way you write. I especially loved Sleepless Beauty, I even made Ken read it."
"I know, he told me," Naoto simply said. Her face suddenly fell, the smile fading.
"What else did he tell you about me?" she asked, gazing at the ground.
"Bits and pieces, not much really. Not enough to draw my own conclusions."
"I see." He didn’t like the way she said that; it sounded too....too omniscient. He clinched his fists, forcing his body to stay still as he felt Maria’s eyes scanning his person again. He could see the gears turning in her head again, he didn’t want to know what she was thinking this time.
"How long have you known Ken?" she asked coldly.
"Not....not long," he stammered, stuggling to remain calm. He knew where this conversation was going. He wanted to end it right here but for some reason Naoto couldn’t bring himself to stop her from asking the next question.
"How well do you know him?" she asked, her voice growing colder with each word.
"Well enough."
"Meaning?" Gods, now he was really uncomfortable. Naoto was beginning to feel like he was a suspect in a murder case and Maria was the interrogation officer, drilling him for answers.
"Ken’s very open with his feelings," he said. "But he only talks when he feels comfortable and when he has to. I don’t press him if he wants privacy."
"Did he say why he came to Japan?" A pause.
"He said he came because of you." That wasn’t the answer Maria wanted, at least that’s what Naoto judged by the angry look on her face. Before he knew it, she had erupted like a long dormant volcano, and he was the poor soul standing in her way.
"Me?" Maria shouted. "He said he left because of me? That can’t be true, you’ve got to be lying! I would never doing anything to lose Ken. It must be you! He must have left because of you. Why else would he come to Japan and move in with you?"
"But I...." He felt a stinging blow across his face before Naoto could utter another word. One hand gingerly touched the rapidly appearing bruise on his cheek; she had hit him before he even have time to realize it. He didn’t know what to think much less what to say; there was someone else who knew exactly what to say.
"Maria!" At the sound of the voice, both Naoto and Maria turned to find Ken standing in the doorway; behind him and in the hallway peeked four of the neighbors, wondering what all the shouting was about. His face looked angry, almost as if he had been the one slapped. When she saw him, Maria’s face seemed to brighten. The angry glare she had maintained when she was with Naoto disappeared to be replaced with a look of joy, almost relief. Her bright smile only served to make Ken’s frown deepen.
"What are you doing here, Maria?" he asked, slowly closing the door behind him. Naoto shuttered; he had never heard Ken speak in such a cold, calculating tone before.
"I came to see you," she said, barely containing the elation in her voice. "I wanted to ask you to come back with me."
"Come back with you? To New York?"
"Yes. Come back with me, Ken. I missed you. Dad misses you too, he was talking about you the other day. He asked if I had spoken with you recently and wanted to know if you were ever coming back." The silence that followed her words was unnerving.
"Maria, I spoke to your father before I left. I told him I wouldn’t ever come back to work for him, that I may never come back to America."
"But..."
"Why did you come here, Maria?" he interrupted. "I want to know the exact reason you came here." She stopped short, gazing down at the white carpet as she entwined her fingers together behind her back. She looked like a little girl trying to work up the courage to tell a boy that she liked him.
"I came because I really do miss you. I miss having you around. And, because I love you."
"And Tim?" Maria flinched at the name of her love affair.
"I know it was wrong of me. I shouldn’t have seen Tim while I was married to you. But, Ken, believe me, I really do love you. I want you to come back with me. Things can be like they were." Her smile started to fade as Ken slowly shook his head.
"Things can’t ever be like they were because I don’t want it to be that way. I like it here, Maria. I love my present life more than my past. You have no right to interfer, not after what you put me through." Tears started to well up in the corner of her blue eyes. She didn’t bother to stop them but let them flow down her pretty face, her shoulders just starting to shake with sobs.
"Why?" she said, choking back sobs. "Why Ken? What did I ever do? Is it the affair?"
"It’s more than the affair, Maria. It was everything."
"But I thought everything was perfect! I thought together we had everything!" Again he shook his head.
"No, you had everything. I thought I had everything but I didn’t. We went everywhere you wanted to go, did everything you wanted to do. If I wanted to stay home, you persuaded me to go out. If I wanted to go one place, you begged to go to another. Everything was your way, never mine."
"I can change, Ken. We can compromise." He sighed, a long sigh coming from deep within his chest.
"No. It’s too late for compromises between us. You aren’t what I want anymore. I don’t love the type of person you are."
"Then what type of person do you love?" Her question stopped him. What was he going to tell her? That he was still searching? That he still hadn’t found what he was looking for yet? He couldn’t tell her that. As his mind worked, Ken’s eyes flew around the room, gazing at anything to avoid looking into her tear stained face. Finally, they settled on Naoto. His roommate stood off from them, letting them have their conversation without feeling his presence interferring. His face was expressionless, but his eyes watched them intently. Gazing into Naoto’s dark pools for eyes, Ken suddenly remembered the weekend in Yokohama. Watching him now, Ken finally knew.
"Him," he simply said. Maria’s face paled as she turned towards Naoto. The writer’s face, on the otherhand, turned scarlet, hiding the red bruise forming on his cheek. "I love the type of person he is. Someone who’s considerate of others, always thinks of them first. Someone you feel comfortable with and can talk to about anything. Someone who can compromise and won’t argue when he doesn’t get his way. That’s the type of person Naoto is, and that’s the type of person I love."
Nothing more was said. It was clear by the look on his face that Naoto hadn’t expected Ken to say what he had. But, judging by the look in his eyes, Ken was serious. Maria knew this and, before either of them could utter a word, left the room, fresh tears flowing down her face. She slammed the door behind her as she left, leaving the two of them in silence, staring at each other.

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