Maybe Later

by Claudia Burgoa

  Jack takes me in his arms.

  “It was the summer after sophomore year,” I explain,

  I cry as I remember the last days I spent with her, holding her hand, begging her not to give up and to stay with me.

  “She left me behind.” I continue crying, not caring that my head is about to explode.

  Not having her here hit me so hard today. I’m missing a part of my heart. No one will ever understand what it’s like to live without the person you came into the world with. We fought, and our relationship was terrible in the end, but she was the yang to my yin.

  “What happened?”

  “It was a plane crash.” I snort at the irony. “She hated flying. It was one of her biggest fears. The pilot, her fiancé, is still alive.”

  Amy always tried to be like me because she swore our parents loved me more. They didn’t. They just demanded and expected more from me than her.

  I let out another sob. “I couldn’t save her.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Jack

  Sunday, June 5th, 9:01 a.m.

  My sleep is short and dreamless. I’m not even sure that I slept at all. I’m both tired and wired up since I drank several cups of coffee. Since I brought Emmeline home, I’ve been checking on her every two hours. The only time she woke up for more than a few minutes was when she talked about Amy. Nothing makes sense, but at the same time, I kind of get it. When she works as an assistant, she uses her sister’s name and also channels her personality to some extent.

  From everything she says, Amy wasn’t anything like Emmeline—yet the woman who has been busting my balls from day one is the exact same woman sleeping beside me—pseudonym or not. I don’t understand why she’s so afraid of letting people into her life.

  I approach my bedroom, holding a glass of orange juice and her medicine. She’s still sleeping, in my bed. Any other day, this would be a fantasy. Right now, I just want her to be okay.

  “Em,” I whisper, setting everything on the nightstand. “How are you feeling today?”

  “Like a truck ran over me,” she says with a sleepy voice. “When do you think I’ll be able to sleep for more than two hours at a time?”

  “Let’s make a deal, take your medicine, come with me to the dining room for some breakfast, and afterwards you can go back to sleep. I won’t wake you up until noon,” I promise.

  She glances at me and says, “You’re too perfect.”

  The words catch me unexpectedly because she doesn’t say them as a compliment, her tone is laced with disapproval. It’s not something I’d ever expect from her. She’s one of the people I believe knows me best. Or at least, I thought knew me best. She calls me out on my shit every fucking day.

  This is the first time in my life that I feel like I fit perfectly with someone. We work in harmony, and when we’re out on a date, we have so much fun.

  “What’s going on, Em?”

  She shrugs, stands up and looks around the room. “This room is the size of my entire apartment. Do you have a bathroom?”

  I shake my head and laugh.

  “Second door, right past the walk-in closet,” I say. “Once you’re done, the kitchen is downstairs. Follow the bacon scent.” I point her in the direction of the ensuite bathroom. “Follow the scent of bacon to the kitchen. I’ll be downstairs.”

  I take my time preparing eggs, pancakes, and bacon. I should’ve asked her what she likes, but it didn’t occur to me. I was too busy thinking about her long legs and how fucking amazing she looks in my shirt.

  “You own too many suits for a computer geek,” she says, walking toward me. “I was going to take a shower but remembered that I can’t get the cast wet. This is going to be a pain in the ass.”

  “How’s your head?”

  “I have a slight headache, but it’s manageable.” She rubs her face. “Thank you for everything. Seriously, I was just planning on going home.”

  “Em, what’s happening?”

  She looks around the house and gawks. “You do well for yourself, don’t you?”

  “Does that change things?”

  “I guess I never asked you much about your life,” she says absently. “You’re a great guy.”

  “I just rescued you, took care of you, and I’m about to get the ‘you’re a great guy’ speech? No good deed goes unpunished, does it?” I ask bitterly.

  She shakes her head.

  “You’re like a mail-order boyfriend,” she says. “Too good to be true.”

  She exhales harshly.

  “The house I grew up in was pretty similar to yours,” she explains. “Marble floors, clean lines, leather furniture, and no color.”

  “I paid someone to furnish it. I didn’t have time to make it a home,” I explain to her coldly.

  “My parents were old when they had us. They own one of the most prestigious law firms in Boston,” she continues. “Mom tried to get pregnant for a long time. She was forty-two, and he was fifty when they finally did. Twins. That was their first disappointment. They only wanted one child. Mom didn’t have the patience for children. She wanted us to be perfect.”

  “You hate perfect,” I conclude. “But you try to achieve it.”

  “It was hard to keep up with their standards.” She looks around the house. “I couldn’t live in a place like this again. I love color and all the books and antiques I have around the house. I plan to travel someday and find new treasures.”

  The passion in her voice is accelerating. I’m taken by her plans even though I know exactly where this is going.

  “Mom liked to be the best, and so she wanted to have the best children. We had to excel at everything.”

  She laughs. “Amy always thought I was my parent’s favorite.”

  “What did you think?”

  “Their love was conditional to how we behaved and performed. We were nothing but show dogs to them.”

  I flinch at the comparison.

  “For Amy, it was a competition for their love. It strained our relationship. We didn’t get to choose our own colleges. We had to go to their alma mater, where my dad taught a class each semester. I was going to be a lawyer and Amy wanted to become a teacher.”

  I plate the eggs, set them on the kitchen island, and offer her more orange juice.

  “Everything was cut and dry,” I offer, she nods. “What happened to your sister?”

  “I interned for them from since high school. Twice a week I had to go and help at the law firm. During my sophomore year, they hired a third-year law school student. He was bright and old money. Mom wanted me to date him.”

  She eats some of her egg, drinks orange juice and continues. “He was good looking but too perfect—one of those people who hide their flaws behind their perfectionism. My parents were obsessed with him. My sister and I had a big fight where she called me childish and immature. I had my future planned—with the career and the man she wanted. She was just going to be a teacher. I yelled at her because she should’ve chosen whatever she desired and stopped following what my parents wanted.”

  She claps her hands hard. “Then it hit me, I was doing exactly the same. I began researching colleges, tuition, and eventually told Brian to go fuck my parents and forget about me.”

  “And you began to create your own future.”

  Her eyes find mine. “Because of my selfishness, my sister died.”

  “My parents wanted to marry into his family. Who cared which daughter Brian took home?” she explains. “But that’s the thing about men like him. They’re dangerous.”

  “Did you change schools before or after they got married?”

  “They never got married. He had a pilot’s license, took her flying, which she hated, on a cold, windy morning, and he was drunk.”

  I remember the first emails we exchanged. How she confessed her fear of flying.

  “Do you still fly?

  She nods a couple of times. “I do, and I think about her every time I’m up in the air and wave at her hopi
ng she’s not mad at me. The craziest part is that I keep her alive as Amy Walker. That was her dream, to become Amelia Paige Walker—that was his last name.”

  “How do you keep her alive?”

  “I use her name as an alias when I work.”

  “So, you become Amy?”

  She closes her eyes briefly and sighs. “Usually, except the last time I couldn’t.”

  “I’m sorry about what happened to your sister.”

  I sympathize imagining how hard it’d be to lose one of my siblings, but knowing that if Jeannette loses June or vice versa, they would be lost.

  “This is hard,” she says, standing up from her seat and placing her empty plate in the sink. “You’re a great guy.”

  “Oh boy, I’m getting the ‘you’re a great guy’ speech for being too nice. That’d teach me,” I groan.

  “Hold on to your seat because it’s followed by an, ‘it’s not you, it’s me.’”

  “You just made my morning, Emmeline,” I say grunting.

  “I’m not going out with anyone else, but my heart is splitting into two,” she argues. “I can’t fully commit to you because there is someone else. A guy from work, who I’ve never even met. Yet I feel comfortable with him, as if we fit, and he understands me in ways I don’t even understand myself. You always say and do the right thing, but I don’t feel like you really know me.”

  She’s not making any sense, and my chest is hurting so much that I really don’t care about telling her the truth.

  “Laura needs me,” she explains. “I’m heading to Boston this Wednesday.”

  “That’s it?” I growl. I’m trying not to hate her or myself with all the pain I’m feeling.

  “It’d be unfair to ask you to wait until I figure my life out,” she says looking around. “If I ever do. And you are single and stopped hating me for what I’m saying.”

  “There are too many variables don’t you think?” I ask. “What if you are throwing away the love of a lifetime?”

  “If it is,” she pauses. “It will it still be there when I’m ready. But I don’t think you and I are meant to be together. If we were, I wouldn’t be feeling like something is missing when I’m with you.”

  She lowers her head.

  “Sometimes, goodbye means I need to disappear before we hurt each other,” she mumbles.

  I want to tell her that what she’s missing is me—that I am the same fucking guy she’s leaving me for. That I love her, and we could make it work. There’s nothing perfect about me. Most days I’m an asshole—but she sets me straight and reminds me who I should be. I’m hurting too much to even want to fight this. I feel annoyed, uneasy, and like I want to jump out of my skin. Is this what unrequited love feels like?

  “Stay for as long as you need. It’s been almost twenty-four hours. You don’t have to wake up every two hours anymore.”

  “Jack,” she calls after me.

  As I open the main door, I look over my shoulder and say, “I’m far from perfect, Em. I just tried to be the guy you needed when you were having a shitty day. That’s what you do for your loved ones.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Jack

  Thursday, June 9th, 9:39 a.m.

  Last Sunday night, I arrived home to find it empty with a note from Emmeline.

  I wanted to say sorry. I just can’t do this to you or to myself. You deserve everything, not only half of a heart.

  Those words were perfect, fitting, but there was more going on behind those words. She’s afraid to be left behind, so she leaves when the feelings get real. I wouldn’t doubt that she’s about to dump Jackson Spearman too. Our contract ends tomorrow.

  Today, I’ve barely had any contact with her. I hurt too much to act casual. For a change, I begin my day by visiting Carla who stares at me with an open mouth and an astonished expression.

  “This is a surprise,” Carla, my assistant says as she lets me inside her home. “What can I do for you?”

  “If I say I was just in the neighborhood and decided to visit you, would you believe me?” I look around her tidy house. There’s no indication that she has a baby around.

  “What can I do for you?” She waves toward the living room.

  “You’re due back tomorrow,” I explain, taking a seat on her leather couch. “I should’ve come sooner, but I’ve been dealing with other issues. However, we’re expanding the team. Jason is now working full time with us, and Amy suggested we hire an assistant so you can have more free time.”

  “VAES is a great company,” she offers. “If it weren’t for the benefits, I’d be applying for a job there.”

  “Why would you say that?” I ask confused.

  “Ms. Lancaster sent a cleaning crew yesterday to make sure I had everything ready for my first day of work,” she explains. “She swears it was your idea, but we know better, don’t we?”

  I laugh along with her. “Where is your daughter?”

  “In daycare,” she answers. Carla reaches out for a picture to show me. “Ms. Lancaster found me a great place, and she suggested I begin the transition last week. Every day, I’m taking Dahlia there for a couple of hours, so she gets used to the new environment.”

  I hand her a manila envelope.

  “The human resources department is waiting for you to fill out the requirements for your assistant.”

  She gives me an incredulous glare. “You want me to find a replacement for myself and then you’ll fire me? I assure you my husband and I have someone qualified to take care of my daughter while I’m working. I cannot lose this job, sir.”

  “You’re not losing your job,” I assure her. “Would you like my lawyer to draw up a contract? Because you’re an essential asset to me. I don’t want to lose you, Carla.”

  She studies me carefully. “I’m going to need that contract if you don’t mind. This is so unlike you.”

  I laugh, nodding.

  “What happened to you?” She looks at me closer with worry etched in her face.

  Got my ass handed to me by a woman a foot shorter than me. Not to mention my heart ripped out of my chest and shred into a million pieces.

  “Emmeline Lancaster,” I answer and stand up from my seat. “I’ll see you on Monday, Carla.”

  “I’m supposed to come back tomorrow,” she clarifies.

  “Take the day off, on me,” I say before leaving.

  * * *

  From: E. Lancaster

  To: J. Spearman

  Subject: Contract

  Friday, June 10th, 3:00 pm

  Mr. Spearman,

  Thank you for allowing us to assist you over the past few months. If you need anything from VAES, please make sure to contact us. It was a pleasure working with your company.

  Regards,

  E. Lancaster

  * * *

  Friday, June 10th, 3:19 p.m.

  AWalk90: Is it true that you’re following my recommendation and hiring an assistant for your assistant?

  I stare at the chocolate statue she sent me that says, Award for the Not So Soulless boss.

  JSpear84: You got to be kidding. You sent me a fucking award?

  AWalk90: I think it’s fitting.

  JSpear84: Where do you find time to do this kind of stuff?

  AWalk90: I have an assistant.

  JSpear84: How have you been? You disappeared on me.

  AWalk90: I’m in Boston. Taking some time off while packing my best friend’s things. Visiting my sister …

  My mind explodes as I read that. What does that mean?

  JSpear84: Your sister lives in Boston?

  AWalk90: Visiting my sister’s grave, did I tell you she died?

  JSpear84: I’m sorry for your loss. I thought you were an only child.

  AWalk90: No, I wasn’t. My sister always wanted to be. Sometimes I wish it had been me and not her.

  Fuck, baby, don’t say that. I’d die if you weren’t here. I touch the monitor hating that she’s going through this while so far away. But
I’m glad that she’s finally stepping up and doing something for herself.

  JSpear84: Have you seen your parents?

  AWalk90: No.

  JSpear84: Are you okay?

  AWalk90: I’m dealing. Having a lot of emotional baggage is heavy on the soul.

  JSpear84: Thank you for completing your assignment.

  AWalk90: You are very welcome, sir.

  JSpear84: How long are you staying in Boston?

  AWalk90: I’m helping my best friend pack—with one hand. She’s moving closer to me.

  JSpear84: What happened to Steamboat?

  AWalk90: I never learned his last name.

  JSpear84: It’s over then?

  AWalk90: Yes, sadly. He’s perfect, but I’m not going to spend a lifetime trying to meet his expectations. We never talked about serious stuff, like you and I do. And, If I’m being honest, he doesn’t challenge me. He doesn’t challenge me, and honestly, I don’t see how I can get close to him, when he barely speaks about his work and family. Maybe he’s too perfect because he’s got something to hide.

  AWalk90: I’m not taking all the blame nor am I blaming him for everything.

  JSpear84: Relationships are crap, keep yourself away from them. That’s the secret to a better life.

  * * *

  Friday, June 10th, 9:27 p.m.

  AWalk90: You’re wrong. One day, I’ll find my soulmate. I’ve seen people happy together for years. I introduced Alistair to Laura, and I swear the moment they saw each other that was it. I witnessed it. I want that same kind of connection with another person. Maybe that’s why I’m trying to change my life I thought I had it with him, but perhaps it was only superficial.

  AWalk90: I wish I could fuse two people into one. He’d be the perfect guy for me.

  JSpear84: Find yourself first. If it’s meant to happen, he’ll wait for you. Maybe it’s not supposed to happen now, but later.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Emmeline

  Saturday, June 11th, 12:02 a.m.

  Jackson’s response hurts more than the lack of emotion that Jack showed when I was breaking up with him. They both can be so fucking contained. The pain is so unbearable that I want to slink into a dark corner and stay there until the hurt disappears.