On the way home, Eve was silent. Michael, contemplative. And I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. Well, Eve got her wish. I told Michael, and now he hates me. Earlier, as we loaded up Eve's vehicle and waved farewell to the happy new parents, he said not a word to me. Once, I thought he might, but no...he clamped his mouth shut and shrugged.
Eve whispered, "It'll be fine. You'll see. Everything will work out."
I couldn't share her faith. I just lost my best friend. Proverbial karma bug chomping at the bit again.
Once inside the city limits proper, Eve's cell phone rang. "Mom, calm down. What's wrong?"
I cocked an eye opened and listened. "No...no, I'll be right there. I promise. Give me ten minutes."
"What's going on?" I asked when she exited off the interstate immediately.
"It's Carey again," she said, heavy in tone. "He relapsed. It doesn't look good." Carey was Eve's younger brother. He'd been battling bone cancer since a teenager. His past remission lasted three years.
"Oh, Eve, I'm sorry. What do you need?"
"I'm meeting Mom and Dad at the hospital. You'll have to take the car and drive Michael home. Is that okay?"
"Of course," I said, grasping her hand. "I'll come back for you afterward."
"No, no," she said. "I don't know how long I'll be there. Mom can take me home later."
She parked outside the front entrance of the Baptist Hospital, gave me a quick hug as we parted and dashed inside. Michael took the front seat. "She going to be okay?"
"Yeah," I said, maneuvering out of the parking lot. "This is nothing new to her. I just hate that I can't be there with her."
"We can go back," he said. "I'll call a cab."
I gave him an appreciative smile. "It's not that. Eve doesn't want me there," I explained. "Her family is kind of close knit. Carey's illness has always been closed off from everyone else. They don't want to deal with well-wishers when he relapses."
"I see," he said. "That must be hard on Eve. She's too social of a person to have to worry alone."
"We all have our quirks," I commented and eased the SUV onto the freeway. Soon, I pulled into Michael's neighborhood and stopped outside his home.
"You want to come in for a minute?" he asked, not making any obvious motion to leave the car.
My lungs filled with false bravery as I inhaled deeply. "I think we should say good-bye here."
"No," he said after a moment. "No good-byes."
My lips curved up in a weak smile. "I'm sorry, Michael. I'm scum, soiled, a bad person. And I can't bear it that you know these things about me. I wish things were different, but they aren't."
"We'll always be friends, Emma," he said gently. "Nothing will ever change that."
I nodded. "Friends." I reached behind his seat and grabbed his bag. "But sometimes, friends need some time apart." Thrusting his bag into his hands, I focused on a point outside the windshield, waiting for him to leave so I could go home and drown myself in a vat of chocolate ice cream.
He didn't move. "We've had five years apart," he pointed out.
A small laugh escaped my constricted throat. "Which is kind of the reason we're in this situation."
"Come inside," he insisted. "We can talk about this."
Talking was not what I wanted to do. If I were honest with myself - and strong enough - I'd admit that I really wanted to haul his cute, tight butt to the backseat and make some new memories that I'd only have to chase away again later. I groaned. Did I not just tell him that I've been the embodiment of copulation these past few years? In reality, Michael had always been the only man I've ever wanted. But knowing that, and still sleeping with all those men...well, my conscience would never be clear. It was as dingy and grimy as my welcome mat, if that weren't ironically descriptive enough. Pond scum had a clearer reflection.
"Emma? What do you say?"
"Michael, really... I think-What are you doing?"
He grabbed the keys from the ignition and palmed them. "No more excuses. Out of the car. I'll buy you a drink."
"You don't have a liquor license to sell out of your house," I cheeked him. He grinned and said, "I won't tell, if you don't."
I sighed and exited the car. Inside the house, I let out a slow whistle. "Nice place. Yours?"
"No," he replied, dumping his bag on a chair. "Subletting 'til the end of the month so I can search for my own place. This is Aunt Jo's house."
"Oh, yeah? Where's she at?"
"Extended honeymoon in Italy with husband number four. Rodney something or another."
"And she's making you pay rent?"
"Just the bills," he laughed. "Beer okay? It's all I have."
"That's fine." I looked around Aunt Jo's house. Furnished in pure white décor with accents of bright red, I was a little bit glad that Michael moved to Alaska after his mom died. His Aunt Jo was anal-retentive on a good day. I couldn't imagine him going through his teenage years in a place like this. Not a speck of dust could be seen anywhere.
"I hope she doesn't make you clean this place," I said, when he handed over a beer bottle.
"Are you kidding? If I so much as leave a dirty dish in the sink, she'd have my hide. I did, actually, and she called all the way from Naples to bitch at me. I've been looking for the hidden cameras ever since. She has a maid service, and I have to be elsewhere when they're here, or she calls again."
"Must be torture," I murmured into my beer.
He grinned. "Come on outside. We can sit on the deck. Just in case..." He darted a glance around the room, still scanning for cameras, I guessed.
His aunt's backyard was as pristine as the inside of the house. I almost didn't want to sit on the furniture out there either. Michael patted the seat next to him. "Sit."
I sat. And I drank my beer. He watched me curiously. "I'm sorry," he said after a few minutes of us listening to the spring wind buffet the evening air.
"For what?"
"For breaking your heart. I didn't mean to."
"Oh, that," I shrugged. "Done and over with."
He swallowed the last of his bottle in one giant gulp and set it aside. "Listen, Emmie. I think I need to explain some things...about that morning."
"Which morning would that be again?"
He huffed. "Emmie, I'm being serious here. At least, try to act your age."
I sneered at him. "I'll give it my best shot."
His lopsided grin fell into place. "Good. Now about that morning, after we...you know..."
"Had the best sex ever experienced this side of the moon?"
He quirked an eyebrow at me. "The best, huh?"
"Did you not hear anything I said earlier? You set the grading curve, and I've been testing others for the past few years. So far, no one's passed a single class."
He chuckled. "Is that the reason you're still in college? Looking for the valedictorian of the class?"
"Ha, ha. No."
He shook his head and sobered. "Anyway...I have a confession to make. Will you at least let me tell you with any more interruptions?"
"I'm all ears," I said, "Stalks and silk included."
His lips twitched at my phrase. "So, I wanted to tell you...Well, shit...I don't know where to begin." He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. I made the action of zipping my mouth to show him that I wouldn't butt in like I said, and he laughed.
"Okay, I guess I'll start at the beginning..."
Always the best place to start, I thought sarcastically.
"I was engaged, but you already knew that... Then I found out that Dixie was cheating on me..."
I tried to not snort out a giggle at the name of his ex-fiance, but I guess I'm just not that disciplined. Michael shot me a warning look. "So, when I found out, I cancelled our engagement and told her that I never wanted to see her again. But then I had to fly down here for my cousin's wedding, and she posted the engagement anyway to get even with me. I had a hell of a time fixing that mess when I got home..."
What's this got to do with us? I wondered, and Michael said, "I guess you're wondering what's this got to do with us and that morning..."
How does he do that?
"Well, at the wedding, my grandmother called me and told me what Dixie did..."
I snorted again. His eyebrow went up again. I smiled, tight-lipped.
"...and I was pissed. But I haven't seen you in so long, that I decided to drop in on your doorstep and maybe seeing you could make the anger go away for a little while. You've done that before, you know. Whenever I get so mad I want to tear things apart, all I have to do is look at one of your pictures, and I'm better again. You know the one with you and your Dad on your thirtieth birthday? Where the two of you went on that cruise together because he wanted to prove to you that there was garbage being dumped into the sea? That's my favorite. You, smiling so happily into the camera, your arm around your dad's waist and he's gazing down at you with so much pride and love... I look at that and see myself standing there with you...gazing at you with the same honor of just being next to you."
Oh, god, don't start crying now...
Michael took a deep breath. "So, I came to see you, and there you were, looking just like you did in that picture, happy and carefree, and then you kissed me, and...the whole damn world melted away. There you were, in my arms, and I couldn't think of a better place for you to be."
He paused and breathed again. With a shaky laugh, he said, "I, never in my wildest dreams, think that you were still untouched... It scared the living crap out of me that I was the one...I was the first to ever love you like you should be loved."
He looked me square in the eye. "Like you, I haven't been all that innocent in my relationships, but that's where the similarity ends. I wasn't trying to match the curve...I was trying to find it. And until that night, and into the next morning, I didn't think I'd ever find a woman that could love me with more than just her body. I was the dirty one. I took from you the one thing you could never get back. And I'm not worth that kind of honor. Running out on you wasn't my best moment. I should have stayed, but I just couldn't look you in the eye and see your heart shining, and know that I - a man that's seen the awkward morning after more times than I dared count - I put that glimmer of hope and happiness on your face...and I just didn't want you to get hurt."
He paused and waited.
"Can I talk now?" I asked. He nodded, warily. "Good," I said. "Let me clarify...you let me make love to you...uh, four times?...and then got a conscience and ran out?"
His eyelids slid shut and he nodded again.
"All because you were afraid of me finding out that you were promiscuous?"
"Up until I got engaged," he said. "I didn't cheat on Dixie."
Another giggle rumbled in my throat. That name will never cease to be hilarious. Dixie? Really? Michael laughed, too. "I know..." he said, "What was I thinking, right?"
"It crossed my mind."
"I'm really sorry, Emmie. I know that me leaving wasn't the best idea, but I had to. I needed to go back to Alaska, straighten out the mess with...her, and sort out my own feelings. It took me a while. And I thought that if you didn't say anything about that morning, then neither would I. Friends forever, right? No matter what? That was my thought. We were still friends. We still talked and kept in contact and you didn't seem all that bothered with what I did. I thought everything was fine."
"You were wrong," I said hotly. "I was anything but fine."
His cheeks flushed. "I know. I'm so sorry. I can't tell you how sorry I am. When I got home, I took a good look at my life, and at the person I became, and I hated myself. I spent the last few years diving into my work and trying to make a name for myself in my career field so that I could go anywhere in the country and be able to support myself. I did that. And once it became clear that my life was finally in order, I knew where I wanted to be."
I held my breath. "Oh?"
"Yes," he smiled at me, "I knew exactly where I wanted to spend the rest of my life. With you...forever with you. I just hoped I wasn't too late. You never said anything about settling down, and I prayed that when I saw you next that I wouldn't have to stand in line. I would have though. I would have pushed, fought, and killed to be the first man in line for you. I would have done anything. I still would."
He moved closer to me and took my hands between his. My heart was pounding painfully against my ribcage. "Somehow, I always knew you loved me," he said. "As I love you."
Oh, man...
"I love you, Emma Jane. I love you so much. Please forgive me."
I stood up so fast my brain swam dizzily inside my skull. "You mean...After all these years...Five years! For five years, I've wasted on..." The faces of all the men - and woman - in my past flitted across my vision. All the positions, and locations, and...
"Oh, god, I'm going to be sick," I moaned and dashed to the nearest bathroom.
"Emma!" Michael called behind me.
Thankfully, I didn't sick up. But how I wanted to! My stomach rolled, and my body ached from the shivers of repulsion.
He loves me. Michael loves me.
What the hell?
Five long, freaking years! I could have waited that long. If only I knew...
"Emma," he called through the closed door. "Darling, speak to me. Are you okay?"
Five. Freaking. Years!!!!
"Darling, please be okay... Emma...Emmie? I'm so sorry. I didn't know... I just didn't know you went through hell because of me... Please speak to me... Please... Open the door..."
There was that time on the stairwell outside of my accounting class -- with the drama major. And the one upside a tombstone on Halloween -- she'd never forget that one. And the night Buster Bowling laid me across the back of his motorcycle in clear daylight...next to a playground!
Oh, god, not to mention Jennifer...in her hot tub...
"Please, Emma," Michael begged through the wooden barrier.
I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing on his voice. Michael... The first time with him, against my living room wall... Then on the living room floor... Then in the shower... And again, finally, in my bed, slowly, perfectly, lovingly, hands clasped together, hearts sounding a parallel beat, chest to chest, mouth to mouth, whispering sweet nothings, gazing into each other's eyes, slowly...smoothly...rocking concurrently as our bodies synchronized in meticulous rhythm, coming as one...
"Emma?"
I smiled as the memory washed over me. Michael... The one... The first... The one and only... From here on out.
His tone became worried. "Emma, please, open the door. Aunt Jo will murder me if I break it down." At that, I laughed. I heard him sigh heavily. "Oh, Emma, you worried me there for a minute. Won't you please open up so we can talk about this?"
I stood, straightened my hair and swiped a hand across my cheeks. I unlocked the handle, and he pushed it open. A muscle ticked along his jaw, and his eyes were laden with regret. I launched myself at him. "No more talking," I said and kissed him.
He took it from there...straight over to the couch.
Then again on Persian rug, and at the top of the stairs...oh, and finally, in his bed.
*****
Aunt Jo called. Michael hung up on her, winked at me, and went outside to turn the power off for the entire house. "I still can't find those damn cameras," he said, coming back to bed. "No electricity, no internet service."
I laughed, and crawled up his chest to experience love in total darkness. A first for me, actually.
*****
THE END
*****
All stories in this series here on Wattpad:
Michael and Emma: Friends and Lovers Series #1 (Emma's story.)
Drink From Me: Friends and Lovers Series #2 (Eve's story.)
Take the Risk: Friends and Lovers Series #3 (Sage's story.)
Autumn Storms: Friends and Lovers Series #4 (Sally's story.)
Read My Lips: Friends and Lovers Series #5 (Linc's story.)