After we got back from lunch Chris and I were lying on the couch together, kind of making out. Mostly just tangled together, touching each other while we talked. We'd been going over what had happened with the nude photo being put out there. I'd told him it was Richard. He assured me that it was still not my fault it had happened. I had cried through my retelling of how this whole thing made me feel,. He'd held me, letting me get it all out. When I had, we moved on to our line of attack.
"So, here's the thing, Em." Chris said, his fingers walking up my spine. "I couldn't give a shit what people think of us. They'd move on. But there is a morality clause in my Marvel contract."
I groaned pressing my face against his chest. "I'm sorry, Chris."
"Stop saying sorry, ya meatball. It's not your fault. How many times do I have to say that already." He scolded. "Brad has been talking them down, you know, that we've been violated, that that was a private thing in our own home. Blah blah. Molly is now pushing for us to be seen out together, doing wholesome, in love, sweet, couple things."
I laughed. "Well that's new."
"I know, right?" He chuckled. "So, we need to figure out some cute things to do that we invite paps along to. Are you okay with that?"
I started kissing him again. The need to just suddenly swept over me. He stroked my hair as out lips caressed each others. "Yeah. That's fine." I sighed when I finally pulled away again. "What were you thinking?"
He shook his head. "What were we talking about again? Oh, wholesome activities. Right."
I laughed.
"I thought Disney. Disney is always a winner right?" He said.
"Oh yeah! Any excuse for Disney is fine with me." I chirped.
"We could also do something that kind of makes my skin crawl. We tell them where and when we'll be grocery shopping or going for a jog." He suggested.
I scrunched up my nose. "Ew, that does sound gross. I guess if you think it will help."
He shrugged. "It was something that was strongly suggested we do." He said. "And we could probably go to a sports game."
I groaned loudly. "Please don't tell me I have to sit through fucking American football."
He pinched my side and I squawked.
"I will get you to like it one day."
I rolled my eyes. "Unlikely, but if that does happen, I'm supporting the Colts."
He pinched me again. "I'd tell you to get out of this house, but I'm impressed you paid enough attention to say the Pat's rival team." He laughed. "We could do Baseball instead."
I groaned even louder than before. "That's even worse! How about we go see the fucking world championship paint drying contest."
"Coming from the woman who likes cricket." He scoffed.
"Come close for a second, I have a secret to tell you." I said gesturing with my finger for him to come closer. When his ear was pressed up to my mouth I whispered in it. "I fucking hate cricket."
Chris burst out laughing, rocking back and falling off the couch, dragging me onto the floor with him so we were lying in a tangled pile on the ground. "Why do you keep making my family play it at Christmas then?"
I pulled myself free from him and crawled back onto the sofa. "That's backyard cricket. It's not the same. Watching cricket is torture."
As Chris climbed back on the couch my phone chirped and I went to see who had texted me. It was Tom. He'd seen a fox in his garden and sent me a photo of it.
"Oh my god! Tom has a fox in his yard. Look!" I showed my phone to Chris.
He didn't take it, just looked at me confused. "Why is Tom texting you?"
"Tom always texts me. Probably eight times a day." I answered still holding my phone out to him.
"But why?"
"I don't know, just random shit. We're friends."
He scowled at me. "You can't be friends with him, Emily. You slept with him."
I looked at him perplexed. I thought he knew we were friends. He'd encouraged it even. What was happening? "Can't like: people who have had sex with each other are unable to maintain friendships? Or can't like: you won't let me?"
"You can't. Emily. You've had sex. You can't be friends with him."
"What are you talking about, Chris? We've been friends for ages now."
"I don't want you to be friends with him. You fucked him. More than once."
I stood up. I was furious with him. "Because you told me to!" I yelled. "If I'd known there was a condition that I couldn't be friends with him after I would have told you no."
He raked his hands through his hair. "How can you think I'd be okay with you talking to him behind my back, Em?"
I shook my head. "We weren't talking behind your back. We're just talking. You can read them if you want. There's a massive percentage of him telling me how obvious it is that you love me, for fuck's sake. It's not like you aren't friends with people you've had sex with."
"Oh yeah? Who? Who have I had sex with who I still hang out with?" He yelled.
I rolled my eyes. Did he think I was a fucking idiot? "Uh, Minka. You hang out with Minka."
He stared at me, jaw clenched. "That's different. We dated. We broke up. It's over. Tom agreed to fuck you because he was attracted to you. You agreed to fuck him, because you're attracted to him. So what, now you guys are just friends? I'm supposed to think nothing's ever going to happen between you? That he isn't just waiting around for us to have a fight and swoop in?"
I was near rage levels of anger now. Just ready to explode molten fury on him. "It doesn't matter what you think he might do. It matters what you think I might do. You're supposed to trust me, Chris. You expect me to trust you. You always have women all over you. You flirt with them all the time. Yet I trust you implicitly. If he hit on me, I'd stop being friends with him. He does almost the opposite of hit on me. He loves you and I. Why can't you trust me?"
He stopped pacing and his shoulders slumped. "Emily, you spending time with Tom has already caused problems for us. Maybe I am being irrational. But it makes me jealous. I can't have you being friends with him."
"Chris! I barely have any friends at all! You can't tell me who I can be friends with. How much am I supposed to give up for you before you're happy?"
He groaned. "Not this shit again! What? What have I told you to give up?"
"Chris! I am giving up my work, my citizenship, my fucking dream wedding, the place I want to live, and what? Now I can't have friends?" I shook myself. "Fuck this! I'm going out. You stay here and fucking think about what you're asking of me. You want me to choose you over him. I'll do it. How much more before I have nothing else left of who I am to give up for you?"
I started marching towards the door. He grabbed my arm. "Don't you dare fucking touch me!" I screamed at him. He dropped his hand like he'd been burnt.
"Where are you going?" He whispered.
"I don't know! I have no friends here, and apparently I can't have any according to you." I stormed out the door, slamming it behind me.
I got in the car and drove. I had no idea where I should go. I didn't want him to find me, so the office was out. I ended up driving up to Griffith Park Observatory and just parked in their parking lot. As soon as I stopped the car I broke down in tears. How could he be doing this to me? All my friends are on other fucking continents. And even that isn't good enough.
My phone had been ringing constantly since I left. I scrolled through the list. It was all Chris. He seemed to have given up calling just before I parked my car. I put the phone down, and just sat, fuming.
After a while my phone rang again. I picked it up and looked at it. It was Lisa. I felt terrible, but I hit ignore. I hated doing that, but I wasn't up for being guilt tripped by Chris' mum into talking to him right now.
I cried myself out in the car, and then got out and went for a walk. My phone rang while I was wandering around aimlessly. I picked it up and looked at it, expecting to want to hit ignore again. It was Tom. I picked up.
"Emmy? Are you okay?" His voice sounded deeply troubled.
"No. I'm not okay at all." I sniffed.
"Chris just called me. He told me what happened."
"He told you that he said it was him or you?"
"Not in those words. You need to talk to him."
"He told me I couldn't be friends with you, Tom!" I cried. "I thought he trusted me."
"There's been a lot going on in your lives. Please let him talk to you."
I leaned up against a light pole. I was crying again, and my head hurt. "Are you taking his side?"
"I'm firmly taking the side of not wanting to be responsible for you two breaking up." There was a pause. "Why didn't you tell him we'd been talking to each other?"
"I didn't not tell him. I thought he knew. We were hanging out all the time when I visited. I didn't realise he didn't know we'd become friends."
"Do you see why he might have been upset? He thought you were going behind his back."
I groaned. "I guess. If he keeps telling me who I can talk to, I don't know what I'll do. I need him to trust me."
Tom sighed. "Go home, Emmy. Please. If not for him, do it for me. Let him talk to you."
I started slowly walking back to my car. "Okay. I still feel so angry and hurt though. I'm not sure I can promise I will be rational."
He laughed. "Do your best. You love him. Try and hear him out."
* * * * *
I got home feeling defeated before I'd even seen Chris. I slouched through the house. Chris was up on his feet running to me as soon as he heard the front door close.
"Em. Thank god. I'm sorry." He said going to hug me. I ducked under his arms, and turned on him.
"I am still furious at you. Tom called me. Say what you have to say." I went and slumped on the couch. He crouched in front of me.
"I cancelled the wedding venue."
The room spun, and my stomach lurched. I gulped down air, not sure if I was trying to hold back tears or trying to will myself not to vomit. This was it. We were over. This morning I was nothing except excited to see him, and now we were done. I started to pull my engagement ring from my finger, but I couldn't quite coordinate my movements.
"So we're done? You can't even fight for me?"