It had been a few weeks since Jeffrey and I became physically involved with one another, and it has been an experience I couldn't even begin to describe. It was so much more despite the fact that neither of us has expressed our emotional feelings for one another, nor have we determined what it actually was that we were, whether we were just flirtatious friends with benefits or in an actual legit relationship.
I was pulled away from the endless circle of thoughts running through my head when I felt a scruff tingle across my neck. Jeffrey showered my neck with tender kisses.
"What got you so into your head?" He asked softly.
"You" I giggled, taking ahold of his face and pressing our lips together.
We were so wrapped up in each other that we failed to realize that the bedroom door had been swung open.
"Jeff, Emma" Two different voices said.
"Norman?" Jeffrey exclaimed.
"Mom! What uh, what are you doing here?" I exclaimed awkwardly, covering ourselves with Jeffrey's bedsheets.
The last thing I had ever expected was my mother to show up again so soon, let alone in Jeffrey's apartment.
She just stood there in shock. Jeffrey scrambled out of bed, pulling on his sweatpants and quickly grabbing the man he called Norman.
"I was standing outside your apartment and you didn't answer, that nice man I was with said he was a friend of the landlord. He said he might know where you were. I guess I figured that out a lot easier than expected" She said softly, still in disbelief that she just found me in bed with a man.
My landlord.
"Mom I —" I exclaimed before she cut me off.
"Sleeping with your landlord?" She asked me.
"No, No mom... Jeffrey is my boyfriend!" I replied loudly.
"Your boyfriend huh," She said uncertainly.
"He looks kind of old, how old is he? He has an awful lot of tattoos" She rambled.
"Mom, please," I begged just wanting her to stop talking.
"I'm really disappointed in you Emma, I wanted more for you than this, " She said somberly before starting to walk away.
"Mom! Mom!" I shouted, scrambling for any kind of clothing I could grab, which happened to be my underwear and one of Jeffrey's t-shirts.
"Mom, where are you going?" I asked
"I'm gonna go home now" She replied.
"Mom please let me explain" I begged, but she just continued her walk of disappointment to the elevator, not giving me a second glance.
"Damn it" I sighed, before turning back and closing Jeffrey's door.
"Are you ok?" Jeffrey asked, lifting my chin to look him in the eyes.
"She's really upset with me ... She grilled me with questions, she only does that when she is really emotionally disturbed by something, I did that to her" I explained.
"I'm so sorry" I apologized.
"Don't... it's ok Emma" He said, cupping my cheeks in his hands.
"She told me that you look old and have a lot of tattoos" I playfully pouted.
"I don't care" Jeffrey chuckled.
All of a sudden, I was slapped with the reality that Jeffrey actually never told me his age.
"What?" He asked.
"How old are you? I've never asked you" I said.
"I'm 45" He sighed, dropping his hands from my face, looking away, waiting for my reaction.
"God" I sighed.
"Emma, what's wrong?" He asked.
"I need to go now" I replied frazzled, gathering my stuff while I tried to gather my thoughts.
"Emma, please can we talk?" He pleaded.
I couldn't even formulate words. I couldn't think straight and I didn't know what I was doing or what I had gotten myself into.
---
Jeffrey's POV
Hours had passed and she wouldn't even answer any of my phone calls, and especially wouldn't answer her door no matter how many times I knocked.
After a while, I finally gave up. I decided to leave the building since she clearly didn't want to talk to me.
I stepped out into the cool Brooklyn air and made my way to the Irish pub on the corner, hoping I could ease my troubles with a drink or two ... or twelve.
"Hey, Jeff! how ya doing?" The bartender Joe asked me.
"Not to hot Joe... give me something strong," I replied
"What's got you so blue man?" He asked kindly.
"Lady trouble" I simply stated.
"Aw man, hardest kind of troubles" He exclaimed sliding me a glass of single malt whiskey.
While sitting there in my state of self-loathing, I heard some woman's voice from beside me.
"Hey? aren't you Jeffrey Dean Morgan?" The women asked as she analyzed my face intently.
"I am" I replied.
"Would it be too much to ask for an autograph?" She asked nervously.
"Not at all" I smiled weakly, signing her napkin.
After a few more hours and definitely a few more drinks, I was drunk, and I mean shit-faced drunk, stumbling over.
"Y-y-you know Joe, I-I-I'm gonna go ho-o-ome," I slurred. My vision was blurry.
"Aye Jeff, slow ya roll, I close in 5, I'm gonna take you home" Joe stated.
"B-but" I began to protest.
"Sitcha ass down Morgan or I'll force you to" Joe demanded and I complied with his demands.
After a very intensely fuzzy excursion from the bar back to my apartment building, I couldn't even remember Joe walking me back, only him helping me into my apartment and into my bed. The alcohol made me so exhausted I succumbed to it quickly, conking out faster than I could think.