by Mason, Dana
“Oh God, Drew, what are you doing to me?” She starts moving with the motion and her legs tighten behind my head as her fingers snake through my hair and grip it.
Jesus, she tastes good. What am I going to do when she’s out of my life and I’m alone again? I dread that day. I dread the day I can’t hear her voice or taste her skin or smell her sweet scent.
* * *
I’m all packed and what I haven’t shipped home already is loaded into the trunk of my rental car. As much as I miss the kids, it’s hard to leave Maui. It’s fucking killing me that I still don’t know anything about Emily. But that’s not true. I know a lot about Emily, about her likes, dislikes, I can tell when she’s holding something back, and I know when she’s totally over-the-moon happy. I know what heartbreak she’s been through. I just don’t know things like where she’s from, or what she does for a living. What her family is like or her actual phone number. I even feel like I know her better than a lot of people might, but that hasn’t gotten me closer to being able to contact her once I leave this island. Leaving her and knowing I have no way of reaching her is just torturous.
I’ve fought hard not to get too attached over the last few days but some things are inevitable. I’ve lightly touched on the idea of staying in contact a couple of times, but she’s steadfast. I get it too. She doesn’t want to be in a long-distance relationship. It’s too hard. She needs time to adjust to being a single woman. She needs to date and experience life without strong attachments. She needs time to come to grips with her grief and with the guilt she’s going to experience now that she’s dating again and moving on with her life. I understand because I’ve been there.
But, what if…
What if keeps repeating in my head. What if it’s not long distance? What if we live close? What if she and I together are right? What if this is what we both need?
Unfortunately, it’s the what ifs that keep her from continuing this relationship. What if it is long distance? What if she never comes to grips with her grief? What if we try to stay in contact and it ends up ruining our relationship?
Like I said, I get it. I slam the trunk closed with a little extra force. It doesn’t help release the frustration I’m feeling. I ran six miles this morning, hoping to work through it, but that didn’t make a difference either.
Tonight, we’re having dinner and spending the evening together before I have to leave for the airport. When I planned my trip, I purposely booked a red-eye so I could sleep on the plane and arrive at my in-laws in time for lunch. After lunch, I’ll take a nap and then leave in the evening for my ride home with the kids. With traffic, it’s usually an eight-hour drive home, and the kids withstand it a lot better when they’re sleeping. Monday morning, it’s back to the grindstone. But tonight, tonight, I get her all to myself.
I make my way back into the resort and stop at the floral gift shop. I ordered a lei… well, several leis, for Emily. I wanted to leave her with something. She can dry them and keep them forever if she wants. And if she doesn’t, she can toss them. I also grabbed a greeting card.
If Emily won’t let me tell her where I live, I’ll stash the information in her suitcase. That way, if she changes her mind, she’ll have the option. Of course, I won’t have the option, but what else can I do?
In addition to feeling like shit for having to leave her, I’m riding a wave of guilt over my lies, but it’s a double-edged sword. She didn’t want me to tell her anything personal about me, but she wanted to know about Hannah. I did what I had to do. Emily might have ended this days ago if I’d told her the truth. If not because I have children, she would for telling her that about myself and breaking the rule. Now I’m torn between wanting her to cave and agree to see me again and fear that she’ll find out I’ve been lying all week about my kids.
I’d risk her finding out the truth if I could just have a chance with her. Honestly, I’m leaving this island with a very heavy heart. I want her. I want her every day. I take the bag from the clerk and step out of the gift shop, following the path to our building.
Stopping at a table near the outdoor bar, I ask the waiter for a pen. I pull the greeting card from the bag and smile wryly at the I miss you printed in script on the cover. The card has a beautiful image of a Hawaiian beach, complete with a setting sun and palm trees. Maybe it’s corny, but I don’t care. I lift the cover and the inside is blank, which is perfect because I have a lot to say to her.
It takes me half an hour to figure out what I want to write and then to spill my guts inside this card. I start second-guessing myself, but then I remember I have nothing to lose at this point. I might as well put it all out there.
When I’m finished, I slide the card into the envelope. Once it’s sealed, I turn it over and write:
When you’ve decided you can no longer live without me, open this. Love, Drew
I stare at it for a couple of minutes, feeling unsure. I’m trying to respect her wishes…I’m trying not to feel hurt that she doesn’t want me, but it’s hard—even when I understand why.
Finally, I walk back to our building. When I enter my suite, swinging the door wide, I’m surprised to find her smiling. It’s a grin, really. Like she’s keeping a secret. My gaze travels down her body, and that’s all it takes for my dick to jerk in my pants. She’s in flip-flops and a knee-length red dress that hugs her curves perfectly.
“Hello, beautiful.”
“Hi.” She does a quick little twirl. Her hair is down, and it sprays out when she spins. “What do you think?”
“The question is, what do you think?”
“I love it. Thank you, again, for buying it for me.”
“You’re welcome. I’m happy to see you wearing something that makes you happy.”
“It does… very much. Especially the flip-flops.”
The difference between her now and the first time I laid eyes on her is striking. She’s beautiful, without a doubt, but now she looks so much happier and more relaxed, with none of that buttoned-up, stressful air about her. I motion for her to come closer. “Come here.” She steps forward and slips into my embrace. When her arms circle my waist, I pull her toward me and take her mouth with mine. She tastes sweet, and she feels comfortable in my arms. She feels right. I take a moment to breathe her in. I know this is coming to an end, and I’m trying really hard not to dwell, but I can’t help it.
“Dog person or cat person?” I ask.
“Dog,” she answers with a smile. “But I don’t have anything against cats. I like them too.” Then she inclines away, her eyes meeting mine, and she frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?”
“You’re lying.”
“Yep, I’m lying.” I take a step back and fight to shrug it off.
“Drew, don’t be like this.”
“I’m trying, Emily. I’m trying really hard to be a good sport about this.”
I walk over to the bag that’s holding the leis I bought for her. Taking the box out, I remove them one strand at a time and hold them up.
“What are those?”
“These are from me to you.” I step toward her and gently rest a lei around her neck: “Monday.” I drape another around her neck: “Tuesday.” Another: “Wednesday.” And then: “Thursday and Friday. It’s a lei for every day I’ve known you.”
“Drew…” She lifts one to her nose and closes her eyes as she breathes in their beautiful sweet floral scent. “They’re so beautiful. Thank you, but you don’t have to keep buying me gifts.”
“I know that, but I like seeing you smile.”
Her eyes lock on mine. “You make me smile.” She lifts the leis again and looks down to examine the flowers.
“That’s a pikake lei.”
“The scent is incredible. Is pikake the name of the flower?”
“It’s some sort of jasmine. The scent is supposed to be relaxing… and it’s also rumored to be an aphrodisiac. They’re supposed to be a sure way to a woman’s he
art. According to tradition…”
“I absolutely love them. Thank you so much.”
“I’m glad you like them.” I give her another quick kiss. “So, what are we doing this evening?”
“I thought we’d have a picnic on the beach and watch the sunset. Is that okay with you?” She glances over at my carry-on bag. “I’m just not in the mood for being around a bunch of people.”
“I can’t think of anything better.”
* * *
She’s thought of everything. I’m not sure why I’m surprised. If I’ve learned anything about Emily this week, it’s that her attention to detail is impeccable. The grilled chicken skewers, fruit, and the white wine are perfect for our beach picnic. Being with her on the shore and watching the sunset together makes me so thankful to have been able to spend the week with her.
When she sits up to pour herself another glass of wine, I’m pulled from my thoughts. The sun hasn’t completely set yet, and the sky is streaked beautifully with orange, red, and pink. Emily’s silhouette against the sun is just as stunning. I take the chance to pull out my phone and snap a photo.
“Thank you for the picnic. It really was a great idea,” I say after getting my shot.
“You’re welcome! I slaved all day to prepare this meal for you.”
I snicker and say, “I bet you picked the grapes for the wine too. How are your feet after all that stomping?”
She laughs and winks at me. “The café offers packed dinner just for this type of occasion. Pretty smart marketing on their part. And I’m so happy we got such a beautiful sunset.” She turns toward me and says, “I have something for you.”
I sit up to face her. “You do?”
“Yeah, but I left it in my room. I thought we could stop by there on the way to the airport.”
“What do you mean? You can’t go with me to the airport. I have to return my car to the rental company.”
“I’m spending every minute I can with you and that means I’m riding with you to the airport.” She lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “I can Uber back to the resort.”
I want to argue with her, but I can’t––I’m happy to get every second I can with her too. We’re staring at each other as the sky darkens and once the sun has completely dipped into the ocean, I slant forward and kiss her bare shoulder.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Drew. This is hard for me too.”
I lift my head to look at her. “Then why are we doing it?” I sit up straight. “Seriously, Emily, let’s talk about this.”
When her eyes close, I know she’s going to refuse again.
“I’m sorry.”
Now I feel bad for bringing it up. The look on her face breaks my heart. I reach over and grab her hand. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I just don’t want to say goodbye.” I squeeze her hand and say, “I hate it, but I understand. I really do.”
Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her into my lap.
“Thanksgiving or Christmas?”
“Thanksgiving.”
With my chin resting on her shoulder, I hold her. That’s all I want right now. This moment, on this beach, with her in my arms.
Thirteen
Emily
The ride to the airport is quiet––very quiet. Drew is holding my hand in a tight grip, and I know it’s because he doesn’t want to let go. I can’t ignore his desire to continue whatever we have, but I just don’t want to ruin the experience. I’m afraid I’ll hear something that will kill it.
He’s given me so much this week. I’ll never be able to thank him enough and I feel like walking away now is the best way to preserve this time and these feelings. I don’t want things to get messy with Drew and I believe if we try to continue this, it will get messy––I like him too much for that.
The truth is, I need this right now. I need fun without strings. I want to preserve these moments forever in my memory as new and exciting and uncomplicated. I don’t want real life or… what was it that killed Drew’s last relationship… reality… to ruin it for us. Maybe it’s stupid, but I don’t care.
After dropping Drew’s rental car keys in the provided drop box, we head into the airport. He has ninety minutes until his flight leaves and the time is flying by way too fast. I’m fighting to keep the sadness from my expression.
After he checks in, we walk toward security. I can’t walk through there, so we sit in nearby chairs. Once we’re seated, Drew sets his ticket on his knee and I spare a glance. When the letters LAX jump out at me, I gasp.
“Do you live in Los Angeles?” I ask before I can stop myself.
He glances at me, and I can see the dejected expression on his face.
“Stop. Don’t tell me where you live, just say yes or no.”
He shakes his head. “LA is just a stopover. I don’t live there.”
I feel disappointed. Why, I’m not totally sure––LA is too far from Sacramento anyway.
“Emily, do you live in LA?”
“No. I don’t live in LA either… or even in Southern California, if it helps.”
“If it helps? Emily, please.” He shifts in his seat to face me. “We’re running out of time. Let’s just… Let’s just do this, okay? Please, just give me your phone number. Please.”
My heart aches. He looks so disappointed. Just like I’m disappointed.
“Drew, think about this, okay? We tell each other where we live, okay, and what if we’re not actually far—maybe three hundred miles?”
“That wouldn’t be so bad,” he says. “We could make that work.”
“Could we though? Really?” I give him an earnest look. “Driving back and forth while also working full-time? Trying to have social lives and relationships with our families and commuting to see each other?” I grab his hand and say, “What if it’s four hundred miles? Would you be okay with driving a round trip six or eight hundred miles every other weekend to make this work?”
“What if it’s only one hundred miles?” he asks.
“The problem is, if I tell you where I live and it’s not a hundred miles, if it’s four hundred miles, we’re still going to want to try. That’s not far enough to say no, but it is far enough for us to try and make it work… But it won’t work. We’ll end up hating each other in a few months. I really don’t want to hate you.” I close my eyes, trying to find a way to make him understand. “I’m afraid if I tell you, it will either be much too far away or not far enough away for us to keep from trying.”
He taps my chin so that I open my eyes again. “I understand. I get it… But, Emily, once I walk through that security line, it’ll be too late—it’s now or never.”
“Why don’t you stay until Sunday?” I blurt, without really considering what I’m asking for.
“That’s not fair. You know I can’t. We’ve talked about this.”
I close my eyes and fight the tears that are desperate to break free. I hate myself for this, but it doesn’t change my mind. Once he’s through that security line, I’m going to have so many regrets that I’m not sure I’ll be able to live with my decision, but those regrets won’t be as bad as the ones I’d have after a few months of trying to make a doomed relationship work.
“Movies or TV?” I ask as I open my eyes.
“Movies.”
“Action or drama?”
“Action.”
“Hmm… Sports or theatre?”
He laughs and his hold on my hand tightens.
“Sports.”
When both our smiles fade, I say, “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too. I wish more than anything I’d never suggested that stupid deal in the first place. That first night when you got falling-down drunk, and I had to put you to bed.” He draws me into a kiss and says, “Please don’t do that after I leave. Promise me you’ll look after yourself.”
I nod and feel the heat of embarrassment warm my cheeks.
“I promise.”
He stands and pulls
me into a tight hug. I don’t want to let go, and he’s made it clear that he doesn’t want to let go either. I’m not sure how long we stand there, holding each other, but I have to hold my breath to keep from crying.
“One more question… Milk chocolate or dark chocolate?”
My chest bounces up and down with my silent laugh.
“Dark.”
He nods against me approvingly. “Good. Me too.” Then he whispers, “I’ll never forget this week, Emily. I already miss you. Please take care of yourself and…” He doesn’t finish, but I understand.
“I miss you already too. I’m not sure how I’m going to spend the next two days without you.”
“Take the time to enjoy your own company, you know, like you were planning before I came along.” We both laugh at that and then I remember I have a gift for him.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” I untangle myself from the hug and pull an envelope from my purse. “Here.”
He takes it with a furrowed brow. “What’s this?” He tears the flap and takes out a picture we took minutes before our helicopter tour of the island. “Oh, wow! When did you pick this up?”
“I had a brief window when you weren’t paying attention. I got us both one. Now you have something to remember me by.”
“I love it. Thank you so much.” He reaches out, wraps an arm around me and holds me close again. “I hate to go.”
“I know, Drew.” When he steps back to look into my eyes, I can see the sadness lingering there. “Thank you for such a fun week and thank you for respecting my wishes. I really do appreciate it. You’re such a gentleman, and I hope someone finds you and sees you for the wonderful person you are.”
When his lips touch mine, I squeeze my eyes closed and fight the emotions building in my chest. His kiss is gentle and long and achingly familiar. I never thought I’d want to kiss a man again after losing Tuck, but thanks to Drew, I’ve figured out that I have a long life ahead of me, with lots of frogs and princes to kiss along the way. He ends the kiss, meeting my eyes.
