33
Jeremy’s P.O.V.
They say everything happens for a reason. I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but I know it’s said: There’s a reason for everything.
Three years ago, I might have disagreed, but as I crouched down in front of Deana, as her mom was wheeled off to the OR, I couldn't help but understand the saying.
When Lauren died, I was completely and utterly devastated and, I concluded that life wasn't worth living anymore if I couldn't be with her. That’s when I began my uncontrollable speeding suicide attempts. The adrenaline, the speed, the risk, the longing, they all kept me going, until I crashed. And then, I’d wake up, but not to a bright white light, as I’d hoped. I kept failing, and that just kept me hoping. I hoped everyday that I could at least get to see her one more time. And every time, hope failed.
Just when I'd given up on everything – hope, longing and life, in general – Deana came along.
Now, I'd heard about the Santa Barbara creative director at D.B.&Co. – they were our biggest rivals, after all – and her many extremely pleased customers, but I had certainly not pictured the gorgeous blue-eyed blonde, with the killer smile. I was instantly enthralled. But, it felt wrong and insensitive to feel something deeper than sexual feelings for someone so soon after Lauren, so I brushed it off. Well, I tried. And boy, did I try. The only problem was, she was completely burned into my mind, and even constantly drinking my thoughts away proved futile. And, kind of painful – that is, the hangovers.
Anyway, back to my point. There’s a reason for everything.
I lost Lauren.
Deana got dumped.
We met.
And then started, what was a covert yet, absolutely passionate relationship.
Coincidence? I don’t really believe in those.
My point is, maybe I had to lose Lauren, because I had to meet Deana, and I had to be able to help her through this. ‘This’ being her mom’s near-death experience, and hopefully, in her case, her mom wasn't going to die. But, right at that moment, Deana had the same look on her face that I did as they wheeled Lauren into the OR, on that fateful day – confusion, fear, worry and the tiniest hint of hope.
And maybe I was wrong, but it was nice to think that things don't 'just' happen.
I sat next to her on the window ledge, taking her hand and holding on tight. She looked up and gave me a worried look, to which I replied, "She's going to be fine", hoping with all my might that I was right.
Not knowing what else to say, I just sat there with her, for a long while, as she came to terms with what was happening.
"Maybe you should go be with your family", I said softly. At that point, I think what she might have needed the most, was to be with someone or people who were feeling the exact same things she was feeling. I don’t want to seem like the expert on closeness to death, or that ‘waiting’ period, but I just wanted her to have everything I didn’t, but wouldn’t have minded.
“Yeah”, she whispered, not making any attempts to move, or let go of my hand.
I couldn’t help the small smile that broke across my face, as she absentmindedly held on tighter.
“Or we could just stay here for a while”, I said, in a softer whisper.
“Yeah”, she repeated, still staring at the floor.
I could understand her state of shock. She'd only just started building a relationship with her mom, and I doubted that there was any way that she'd get over it, if things went south.
In my case, the whole "hospital" situation was bringing back thoughts of Lauren, but at a new perspective. Maybe it was Deana, or maybe it was the feeling of being back in a hospital, waiting for news, but it was like my mind was opening up.
While I had sat in the waiting room, three years ago, I’d thought back to a time when I’d thought Lauren and I would be together forever. A pretty naïve viewpoint, but I was too in love to think otherwise. But in three years, my mind had developed much more realistically.
Truly, forever’s a really long time, and no one actually ever gets to be together forever. Some people, for a long time, yes. But others – like Lauren and I – have a breaking point, and fate’s fate. There is no changing it. That realism was something that Deana had from the moment I’d met her and that quality was one of the things that made her so special, to me anyway, and what I think made what we have so . . . . . . real.
There was a time when I was so sure that I'd never feel anything for anyone, the way I had with Lauren, but the way I felt about Deana was just so different, so passionate, so electrifying and refreshing and so – well, for lack of a better word – real.
We’re similar – we want exactly the same things and have similar opinions – yet, so very different. Her view of the world was one of a dark place, completely black and white, with no shades of grey. And although, my view wasn't that different, I liked to think that it at least brightened hers up a little. The thing about it is, we sort of complement each other, in the littlest ways, but with the largest implications, and that's one thing Lauren and I never had. We were perfect together, and that didn't leave much room for complementing.
I didn't completely understand my feelings for Deana, I just knew that the times we spent apart, I could never get her out of my head or even, aside just for a moment.
A week ago, I'd had a partner's meeting and I remember zoning out on her, for pretty much the whole meeting; I still don't even remember what it is we were talking about. She was like a permanent illness and at the same time, my cure. Excuse the medical terminology, we were at a hospital. My point is, I needed her and I couldn't really do without her. What that meant, I was yet to put my finger on, but it was what it was.
Brad strolled in, holding two Styrofoam cups. He handed us one each and said, “Deana, your dad’s asking for you.”
She looked up at him, and with what she probably thought was a feigned smile – it was actually more of a cringe – she nodded, and slowly let go of my hand.
“Thank you . . . for being here”, she whispered, looking back and forth between Brad and I.
Brad nodded; I smiled and replied, "Anytime", watching her head out, for the waiting area, as he plopped next to me.
"You okay?" he asked.
“Yeah”, I murmured. I knew he was referring to his assumption of my stirred-up thoughts of Lauren. It was inevitable. Hospital. Surgery. Lauren.
Brad had actually met her first. We were at a party in the Hamptons and I was being the crazy overprotective brother, warding off all the douche bags hitting on my sister, with Greg helping. Brad had come over with Lauren and we’d all hit it off. She was beautiful and I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, but she’d hardly even paid an ounce of attention to me – which I found out later, was only a strategy – so I’d left the party with some other girl, erasing her from my mind. But then, Lauren and Savannah became really close, and then we started hanging out – all five of us. One night, when everyone else had cancelled on a night out, except for Lauren and I, we’d ended up all alone. She turned out to be even more amazing than I’d thought, and in a month, we were dating. I can’t really go into the fairy tale that my life had become, but I would never give it up – getting to have that – for the world.
"You know . . . if it all gets too much to handle, I’m sure Deana would understand", he said.
Yeah, she would, because it was in her nature; she was a very understanding person. But, in order to fully wrap my head around my thoughts, I kind of needed to go through it again. Or, something close enough. Like I said, we complement each other.
“I know, but . . . I’m fine”, I replied, sincerely.
“Well, that’s good, cause she needs you right now”, he said, giving me a serious look.
“I know”, I repeated.
Brad loved Deana, completely platonically, but he did. He didn’t really have to say it; he just showed it. The first time they’d met, when Brad had walked into my office, Deana in tow; when she left, he’d said, ‘That girl is so hot!’ And I’d mentally agreed, but just replied, ‘So, I take it you’re going to be “hitting that”?’ He’d laughed at my use of the phrase, with air quotes, because I was imitating him and answered, ‘No way. She doesn’t seem like the kind of girl you don’t call back. We’re probably just going to be like . . . really close friends or something.’ And they were.
“Okay. So, I’m going to go . . . do . . . I don’t know, something”, he said, standing up.
“Don’t go looking for any . . . distractions”, I said, referring to his wont for frolicking with nurses.
He grinned, “I wouldn’t. Not right now, at least.”
I nodded and watched him leave, picturing the look on Tory from Dermatology’s face, if she ran into Brad at that moment, and he turned her down. It would literally, be epic.
I was just about to leave the room when Dr. Wu walked in. She'd been one of my mom's best friends in college, and they’d been friends ever since, constantly taking time out of their busy schedules – well, my mom’s just sort of involves fundraisers, brunches, galas and the works – to visit each other. You know that extremely cool aunt, who never forgets your birthday, and whose visits you anticipate, well that was Megan Wu for Savannah and I.
"Jeremy! What are you doing here?" she asked, with a half-smile, half confused frown.
I had made sure that my mom didn't tell her about Deana and I – it was still quite blissful keeping it to ourselves – so I figured she’d probably assume I’d just rolled in for a quickie. I cringed at the thought; I couldn’t believe I actually ever used to do that; it just seemed kind of lonely. But then again, a couple months ago, that’s what I was.
"I'm here with . . . um . . . Brad", I replied.
She gave me a small knowing smile and nodded, “Brad, huh?”
“Um . . . we had to . . . he’s here visiting”, I said quickly.
She chuckled, “Well, you boys have fun. Visiting”, she said, and turned to leave.
"So, how's she doing?" I asked, stopping her.
“Mrs. Carter? You know her?” she asked, turning back to me.
“Yeah, we . . . we met.”
She sighed, "Well, there’s been a . . . a complication and we have to do a coronary bypass. Things don’t look very good, though. All we can do is hope."
I let out a breath as she walked off. Hope springs, eternal.
I headed off to one of the courtyards in the right wing of the hospital.
The nurses’ station much calmer than it had been a half hour ago and the waiting area was completely silent, even with the added members - Stacey, Sheila and Jerry. Deana was curled up in a chair next to Sheila – we’d never actually met, but I’d seen pictures, so I knew it was her – staring at the floor. It would have been a complete invasion of privacy to go over, so I turned around and walked in the other direction.
I don’t know who exactly thought up the idea to have a courtyard in the hospital, but I personally thought it was genius. The hospital halls are so completely tension-filled and could pretty much rob you of every ounce of joy inside of you. Having a getaway spot, well that’s just healing. There was hardly anyone there; just a very old lady in a wheelchair, and a redhead nurse who was re-filling the lady’s IV bag.
“Hey kitten! Want to come join me?” the old lady called, from across the yard.
I chuckled and strolled over, “Hi. My name’s actually Jeremy”, I said.
“Nah, I like kitten. Suits you better.” She looked pale and really frail. Excuse the rhyme.
I laughed, “And you are?”
“Martha. Ovarian cancer. Terminal”, she replied casually, as the nurse left. So much for healing.
I felt my smile wipe off my face; I wasn’t sure what exactly to say to that. I’d never met any of my grandparents, and my dad had died suddenly, so I didn’t have any experience with terminally ill people.
“Aw, don’t look so glum, kitten!” she said, cocking her head.
I couldn’t help grinning again; she seemed to have that effect. I sat on the sturdy bench across from her and said, “How long you got?”
“A month. Maybe two. I don’t like to know the details”, she said, waving her hand dismissively.
“I’m sorry” I said, not knowing what else to say.
“What for? These things happen, honey. Besides, I’m old and I’ve lived”, she said, with a grin, staring into space reminiscent.
“Really?” I asked, as the redhead nurse came back to give Martha her pills.
“I’ve done everything. You name it, I’ve done it. The Eiffel Tower, Bungee jumping, dinner with the president – not Obama, Clinton – blowing up a store, learning foreign languages – eight actually – Empire State Building, led a strike, dated a celebrity, crashed a wedding, crashed a bar mitzvah, hot-wired a car, jumped the turnstile, gotten arrested . . . and that’s only a quarter of a quarter. I’ve done everything.” She finished with a sigh, grinning widely.
I raised my brows, “Wow . . . . . wow. That is some life you’ve had.”
“You’ve only got the one.”
“That’s really great” I said, still trying to wrap my head around her escapades. “There’s got to be something you haven’t done”, I said.
“Well . . . . . I’ve never had a conversation with a very attractive man in a courtyard”, she replied, with a wink.
I laughed, “You should do that sometime; I bet there’s lots of guys here dying to hang out with you.”
“Oh, they’re dying alright”, she said, laughing.
I looked up to see Deana strolling over, hair all frazzled and hands stuck in her pockets. And she still got my heart racing; it was the norm.
"Hi", she said, as she got closer. She had a nervous look on her face, but she managed to conjure a proper smile.
“Hey”, I said to her and then introduced them, “Deana, Martha. Martha, Deana.”
“Hi”, she said to Martha.
“Hello there”, she replied pleasantly, “Go on, take a seat.”
She hesitated for a second, but then, plopped next to me on the bench. The nurse was still hanging around, fiddling with the tubes.
“So, I hear you two are doing the nasty. That true?” Martha asked, looking back and forth between us.
“Ugh!” Deana exclaimed, and turned to me and whined, with her teeth grit together, “Jeremy!”
“I didn’t tell her anything!” I said, shooting Martha a glare.
She was chuckling under her breath, “Reverse psychology. Always works.”
Deana frowned slightly and said, “That was a mean trick.”
“Well, at least it answers the question on Greta’s mind”, Martha replied and gave the nurse a knowing look, “He’s taken, honey.” Greta went a deep shade of red, and with a glare at Martha, she shot out of the courtyard.
Deana let out a giggle, and I smiled. Martha had that warm, crazy old lady, hilarious personality that kind of just made you forget everything else, for the moment.
“So, what are you doing here? I take it you two don’t normally spend your Friday afternoons at a hospital”, Martha asked.
I glanced at Deana, who sighed and shook her head, “My mom’s in surgery.”
“Oh, that sucks”, Martha replied, “Well, you’re going to be just fine.”
“Me?” Deana said, with a frown.
“Well, everyone’s probably saying she’s going to be fine. Reality is, she might not be, but you will.”
She was silent for a while, and then asked quietly, “What if I’m not?”
Martha looked at her analytically for a second. “Then, that’d probably just be because your mother is . . . and she’s hounding you about something”, she joked.
“That’s kind of . . . twisted”, Deana replied, after a minute of thought.
“What can I say? I’m a twisted old broad”, she replied.
“You’re alright”, she said, with an actual grin.
“Well, thank you”, Martha replied, beaming, as Deana stood up, “Um . . . I have to go talk to the doctor right now.”
I sincerely hoped she’d have much better news than I had. My ‘she’s-going-to-be-fine’ line was beginning to spread a little thin.
“See you later, Martha. You too, Jeremy”, she said, with a wink at me.
I watched her leave, with what I imagined was a dreamy or lust-filled look in my eyes. I kept staring, even after she’d disappeared, thoughts of her running through my head. I’d almost forgotten Martha was still there, until she cleared her throat loudly, breaking my string of thoughts.
“Sorry” I said, turning to her.
“That’s okay. I remember what it was like to be young and in love”, she replied, with a dreamy sigh.
I chuckled, “Um . . . I’m not . . . in love with her”, I said, slowly.
She cocked an eyebrow, “I’ve lived for more than eighty years, Kitten. You think I wouldn’t know love from a million miles away?”
I furrowed my brow in thought. I couldn’t be in love, could I? I mean, I knew I liked Deana a whole lot, but that wasn’t exactly love, was it?
“Okay, tell me how you feel about her”, she said, with a nod.
I didn’t really like talking about feelings, but I knew Martha wouldn’t back down. “I . . . I don’t know. I guess I like her a lot”, I said, with a shrug.
“You’re going to have to go a lot deeper than that, Jeremy.” She put an emphasis on my name, probably to indicate her seriousness.
‘Deep’ was really not my thing.
I smiled and shrugged again, letting out a sigh, “Well, I like her . . . a lot. Like, I can’t . . . stand being away from her; she’s always on my mind . . . . 24/7, I can’t not hold or . . . touch her, every time she’s around me; and, I would do literally anything to make her happy; she’s . . . I . . . I’m . . . I think I’m in love”, I finished under my breath, pretty much talking to myself, my face back to its initial frown. I dropped my head into my hands, “How did this happen?” I groaned.
“In my book, that’s not such a bad thing”, Martha said softly.
“Yeah, but . . . Deana’s a very complicated person, and together . . . we’re just one unsolvable mess. Love just . . . . . kind of . . . complicates things.”
She gasped in response and said, “I never would have pegged you for a wuss.”
“I’m not . . . I’m just . . . I ---”
She cut me off, “Scared.”
“I’m not scared”, I said defensively.
“I think thou doth protest too much”, she said, with a smirk.
“It’s just, being in love is a commitment on its own, and . . . I know Deana’s not ready for any of that. I don’t even know if I am.”
“Kitten, listen to me. You can’t go through life with one foot in and the other out, just because you’re worried things won’t work out! Like I said earlier, you’ve pretty much got only one shot at an amazing life. Nobody knows what’s going to happen tomorrow! We could all die in a huge earthquake; you could sleep and never wake up; the world could end . . . . . but, the question is, where do you want be when that happens?”
Before I could even begin to put together a response, Greta came back and said to Martha, “Your family’s here”, completely averting her gaze. Not that I cared; I was trying to wrap my head around my epiphany.
Martha grinned and then, wheeled herself over to my side and said, “Tell her how you feel, kitten. You won’t regret it. I promise.”
And with that, Greta wheeled her away, and out of the courtyard.
I sat on the table, putting my thoughts together. It completely made sense; the feeling was familiar and quite unfamiliar at the same time. Familiar, because I’d once felt it with Lauren, and unfamiliar, because it was Deana. It was a great feeling; I’m not sure how, but it felt great, and then, the thought of Deana not feeling the same way just sort of extinguished it. That was where my head was at when Deana strolled in.
"Hey", she said.
I straightened out my confused expression and said, "You talked to Dr. Wu?" Her expression was the same, making it hard for me to tell whether it had been good or bad news.
"First part of the surgery went well", she said, shrugging.
“So, what’s wrong?” I asked. She still looked very worried.
She climbed up onto the bench under my feet, and knelt on it, facing me.
"Jeremy . . . . --", she began, a nervous look on her face.
"What is it?"
She shut her eyes tight for a second, and then opening them, said, "I don't want you to be here."
My brows went up. "What?"
She sighed, "I mean I don't want you to be around talks of death . . . in a hospital, you know . . . . . cause of . . . Lauren." Her selflessness was amazingly unnatural, I could barely understand it. That was her one flaw; she was selfless to a fault.
"Please let me worry about you today, okay?"
She moved in closer, resting her arms on my knees. "What if I don't want you to?" she said, quietly.
I wrapped my hands around her waist, and leaned my forehead against hers.
"I'm sorry baby, you don't really have a choice on that one", I answered.
She winced slightly with a frown, "Jeremy . . . . I want . . . I need you to be okay", she said.
"And I am. I promise", I replied. I needed to be okay too. I felt less conflicted and unburdened which, in my book, is the definition of 'okay'. Well, as okay as I could be, whilst pondering my thoughts of being ‘in-love’.
"But, just . . . if you can't take all of this anymore, just leave. I promise I won't mind." Somehow, I had a feeling we weren't talking about only Lauren anymore.
"I'm not going anywhere", I said firmly. I don’t think I could have meant it any more than if I’d sang it on top of the world. However off-key I might sound.
She gave me a small hint of a smile and nodded. "Me neither", trailing her finger across my jaw line.
How could I not even be in love with her? If I wasn’t, it would be odd, seeing as she was pure, unadulterated perfection. Thinking back to where we’d been three months ago, I couldn’t really remember feeling any different. Maybe less exaggerated, but definitely the same. It was the little things; her personality, her expressions, her feel, her features, her strength. She was just perfect, and she was mine. Well, as long as I didn’t blurt out my feelings, and send her running.
“So, um . . . Matt’s here”, she said slowly, breaking my line of thought.
“Matt, your ex?”
Matthew Stewart had to be the biggest asshole and douche bag I had ever met, and it wasn’t just because of what he did to Deana. He just had an awful personality, and I could bet a million dollars that even if he had no connection to her, I’d still have detested him.
“Yeah. I totally forgot he’s friends with my mom.”
“Are you okay with that?” I asked. It couldn’t be easy to keep running into the man who’d abandoned you on the most important day of your life. Well, one of.
“I don’t care”, she answered, with a shrug, “Are you?” she asked.
“As long as you are”, I answered.
“I am.”
I ran my hand across her cheek, “You know, when this is all over, we should go away for a little while”, I said softly.
“Where to?”
I shrugged, “I don’t know. Somewhere far away; just you and me.” I missed the feeling of being away from drama, worry, fear; there was nothing like it.
“I’d like that”, she replied, with a smile.
“Good”, I whispered, pulling her closer, and pressing my lips to hers with as much intensity as I could muster. I couldn’t help wishing that that kiss could completely relay my feelings for her to her. I pulled her even closer, somehow managing to deepen the kiss, until I completely forgot where we were, and all that I could think about was her. Her hair entwined in my fingers; her hands slipped under my t-shirt; her soft moan as I slipped my hands into her back pockets and her back arched as she leaned towards me.
Her face was flushed as we broke apart, and her breathing was quickened.
Maybe it was the wistful look in her eye, or maybe it was the intensity of our kiss, or it could have been my racing heart, I really don’t know, but the next thing I knew, I was saying, “I love you.”
Oh, Jeremy. You just had to, didn’t you? I thought to myself.
Her expression changed from longing to shock to confusion to fear and then back to shock, so fast, I’d barely caught the change. I grit my teeth and cringed, shutting my eyes tight.
“What?” she asked, slipping off the bench, and onto her feet.
Honestly, I could have knocked myself out right then, if I knew how. I opened my eyes to see her staring at me warily, in confusion, her mouth open slightly.
“Um . . . you . . . I wasn’t . . . It’s . . . I . . . ---”, I trailed off, aware that I wasn’t making any sense. Who blurts out ‘I love you’ like that; with her mom in surgery, life hanging in the balance, in the courtyard of a hospital? Stupid doesn’t even begin to cut it.
“Did you just ---” she began, but I cut her off.
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to come out like that”, I said, feeling slightly foolish. Scratch that. Not slightly.
“You . . . you . . . ---”
“Okay, it wasn’t supposed to come out like that, but . . . I did mean it. I’m . . . I . . . . . am in love with you.”
She stared at me dumfounded for a second and then said, “No, you’re not.”
“Excuse me?” I asked. I’d expected her to mumble something about having to leave, but not that.
“You can’t be”, she said, in a whisper.
“Deana, I’m not going to justify my feelings for you because, honestly, we might be here a while. But . . . . I am in love with you. And . . . I’m okay with you not feeling the same way, but . . . . I don’t think I could have kept that in . . . I just . . . I just needed you to know”, I said slowly.
“Wh--- . . . I . . . ---”, she opened her mouth to say something else, but somebody cut her off.
“Deana?” Fran called.
We both turned, and I saw her stare back and forth between us, confused, but then, she beamed at Deana, “She’s going to be fine!”
“Really?” Deana asked, relief flooding across her face.
“Yeah. They’re bringing her up soon. It might take a while for her to wake up, but she’s . . . she’s going to be okay.”
“Oh, wow”, she said to herself, and then looked up at Fran, “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay”, she replied, and stalked off.
I looked back at Deana, with a grin, almost forgetting about the elephant in the room. “I told you!”
She had a pained expression on her face, “I have to go”, she said quietly.
“Yeah, of course! Go be with your family”, I replied.
“Jeremy”, she began, but I cut her off.
It was kind of like a stabbing pain in my chest, and even if I said I was okay with my feelings unreciprocated, it was a bit painful actually seeing solid proof.
“Go on, Deana. Really. I’ll see you later”, I said, with a nod and a feigned smile.
She let out a sigh, wincing slightly. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it and shook her head. “Please don’t go anywhere”, she pled.
I gave her a small smile and nodded, “Okay.”
“Okay”, she repeated, and hurried out of the courtyard, with a final glance back at me.
Like an idiot, I stood in the same spot for a few minutes, reliving the last few minutes, and when I really couldn’t take the earth-shattering pain anymore, I decided to go for a walk. It was just as I’d expected – her reaction – but that didn’t make it any easier to experience. But honestly, what did I expect? It had come out of nowhere, and if she had said anything, she wouldn’t be the girl I fell in love with.
I sighed as I walked down a hallway, in the opposite direction of Deana’s mom’s room. I had no idea where I was going, but I just needed something to distract me from my wish to rewind time, back about a month.
“Kitten? That you?” I knew who it was before I spotted Martha in her ward. I had to make sure Brad never got wind of my new nickname.
“Hey Martha”, I said, walking in.
“Uh-oh. What is it?” she asked, her face straight.
“Am I that transparent?” I asked, settling into the armchair by her bed.
“Just to an old bat. That look tells me you told her, but . . . things didn’t go very well.”
“Well, it was as I expected. But, on a happier note, her mom’s going to be okay”, I said.
“That’s great”, she said, and then sighed, “She’ll come around.”
I groaned, “I’m an idiot. I just . . . I just blurted it out. Who does that?”
“Love makes you . . . less smart”, she said.
“It’s embarrassing. I just want to forget it”, I said, leaning back in the chair.
“Well, that Hitchcock movie’s on; strangers on a train”, she said, picking up her remote.
“Oh, that’s a good one”, I said, and she smiled, turning up the volume on the TV.
I don’t think I saw a single scene, though; my mind just wouldn’t stay put.
A few hours later, I left Martha’s room, because she needed to rest. I wasn’t sure where exactly I was going, but I figured at some point, I’d see the red ‘EXIT’ sign. Or any sign really. I was just turning a corner, when I spotted Deana’s family standing by the nurses’ station; Matt, Sheila, Jerry and Stacey were hanging around too. Good news was, I’d found the entrance. Bad news was . . . well, there wasn’t really any, more like ‘awkward’ news.
“Mr. Harrington”, Stacey said beaming, drawing everyone’s attention to me. Attention was one of the things I detested the most, which was why all my gala, fundraiser, red carpet invitations were all in junk mail.
“Hi”, I said to no one in particular. Brad chuckled at my awkward expression.
“Hello”, they said, not exactly in unison; more at random. Deana’s gaze was fixed on mine, as I glanced at her. Her dad was filling out paperwork, Willow was asleep in her mom’s arms, Rosie was settled in a chair by the desk, Matt was glaring at me – well, I had punched the guy out, we weren’t exactly going to be sharing war stories – and the rest of them were all really just milling around.
“I’m . . . I have to go; it was nice meeting you all”, I said, as they gave me pleasant smiles, and stalked off, without a glance back. I had to stalk slowly, so it wasn’t like I was running, but I could practically feel their gazes burned into my back.
“Jeremy?” I heard Deana call from behind.
I spun around to find her heading over, her family staring at her in confusion. Obviously, the first-name basis we were on was a surprise to them; if only they knew.
“What are you doing?” I asked, as she stood about a foot or two away from me.
“I . . . I don’t not.”
I frowned at her, completely befuddled. “Huh?”
“You know . . . I . . . I don’t not”, she repeated. I stared at her in amusement, chuckling slightly; I was seriously considering the fact that she might have caught some contagious mental illness from being in the hospital too long.
“Baby, I wish I knew what you were saying, but I guess my level of intelligence isn’t quite that high”, I joked.
She had a pleading look on her face, as she sighed. And then, it dawned on me – ‘I don’t not feel the same way’. I would have burst out laughing, if it wasn’t for the fact that I was in disbelief. Her complete inability to voice out feelings was both fascinating and amusing. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions though, I mean, this is Deana we’re talking about.
“What exactly are you saying?” I asked.
She shut her eyes for a second. “I’m saying . . . I . . . I . . . I love you too”, she said slowly.
You know how you drink a glass of cold water on a very hot day, that cold feeling spreading through your insides, that's how I felt as she said those words. Only, a million times better. It wasn’t relief, and it wasn’t exhilaration. It was just . . . a feeling. Indescribable, but heart-wrenchingly amazing. And that’s still an understatement.
“What?”
“You . . . ugh! You’re going to make me say it again?” she said, with an embarrassed smile.
“Until it doesn’t feel like I’m dreaming”, I replied.
“Would you like me to pinch you?”
“No thanks. Just say it again”, I said a smile making its way across my face, still in slight disbelief.
She sighed, “Jeremy, I’m so in love with you, that it literally hurts”, she said slowly.
“Again”, I said, with a hint of a grin.
“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. For every letter of your name”, she said, cocking her head.
“If there’s something that doubles love, I that you”, I said, gesturing with my hand and grinning.
“We’re kind of irritating me right now”, she said laughing slightly.
I chuckled, “See? Everything you do makes me want to say it”, I said sincerely.
She smiled and said, “Are they still watching?” ‘They’, being her family. I looked over her shoulder; except for her dad and Dave, everyone’s eyes were on us. They averted their gazes when I looked, but I could see the confusion spread on their faces. Well, except for Brad and Sheila’s – I figured Deana had probably already told Sheila about us.
“Um, yeah.”
“Good. Kiss me”, she said.
“What? What about your family?”
“That’s the point. It’s now or never”, she replied.
I took a step closer and said, “You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
And with a smile on the corner of my lips, I took a step closer, bridging the gap between us and leaned down, pressing my lips to hers. If I’d ever felt any metaphorical sparks with Deana, nothing compared to that kiss. It might have been the ‘I love yous’ or it could have been the room full of people. All I know is, I felt like I was floating, or gliding or maybe, flying. Her lips moving in a rhythmic motion with mine, her hands tugging at my hair, every inch of my body yearning for her and yearning for more, as she smiled against my lips; it was one of those moments that no words were even close to good enough to describe. Even ‘indescribable’.
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I know the wait was kinda long, I've just got a lot going on, at the moment.
I really don't know when the next chapter's going to be up, but I'll try to get it out as soon as I can.
Thanks for reading.