Restoring Us

by Fabiola Francisco

  “Katie, he said to dress comfortably.”

  “Comfortably? What is he going to do? Take you hiking or something? He needs to make sure he plans the perfect date.”

  “I’m sure he has. Now help me choose something to wear without judging his date plans.”

  After rummaging around through my closet, we put together the perfect outfit: a pair of ripped designer cuffed jeans, an ivory loose knit sweater, a brown leather jacket, and leopard print flats.

  Ethan and I aren’t strangers. We’ve seen each other at our strongest and our weakest. I don’t feel like I need to wear a million dollar dress and make myself up like a doll to impress him, but I want to look good for him and feel sexy. My outfit may seem simple, but I know what he likes.

  I keep my makeup to a minimum—neutral eye shadow accentuating the golden specks in my hazel eyes, eyeliner and mascara, and nude lip gloss. Katie loosely curls my hair to add some volume to my straight tresses. I finish off my outfit with my diamond studs, a crystal and gold statement necklace, and my gold oversized Kate Spade watch. I put on Ethan’s infinity necklace under my sweater. Just because the statement necklace goes better with my outfit, doesn’t mean I can’t wear his underneath.

  “You look great!” Katie takes a step back and looks at me with approval. “And you still have five minutes to spare. I think that’s the fastest you’ve ever gotten ready.”

  I nod, fidgeting with my hands. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about the date. Although I’m excited about the idea of being with Ethan and confident this is what I want, I still feel wild butterflies trying to free themselves from my stomach.

  Noticing my impending nerves, Katie wraps her arm around my shoulder, saying, “Relax, sweetie, you know this date is going to be perfect. It’s about damn time you two made up. Take a deep breath and have fun.”

  I don’t know what I’d do without Katie. She is my rock. I smile at her, knowing very well that she’s right. I grab my wine red clutch, sneaking the photos in along with my wallet, and we walk out of my bedroom.

  The doorbell rings as soon as we enter the kitchen. “Show time, babes.” Katie smiles widely. I make my way to the door, leaving Katie behind to nosily spy from afar, and open it to one hot looking Ethan.

  “Hi beautiful.” My heart begins to race with excitement as I take him in.

  He’s wearing dark jeans, a light blue button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up just below the elbows, and gray Nikes. His hair is tamed compared to how he left here this morning–combed to the side in that signature way he has that seems effortless and perfect all at the same time.

  “Hey,” I respond, smiling.

  He leans down and gives me a sweet kiss on the lips, whispering in my ear, “Did you bring the pictures?” He winks at me, causing heat to travel up and down my spine.

  Keeping a straight face, I say, “I did. Depending on how you behave, I’ll let you see them or not.”

  Before I know what’s happening, he has an arm wrapped around my waist and is pulling me into him. “You know I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

  I smell the fresh mint on his breath, and I want to indulge in his sweetness a little bit. I lean in to kiss him, but he pulls back, releasing my waist, and shakes his head. “Nope. I’m saving that for later.” He knows damn well what I want.

  “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Bye, Katie,” I yell from the door.

  “Bye! Behave and have her home by midnight,” I hear Katie’s voice traveling towards us from the kitchen.

  “No promises,” Ethan responds, smiling devilishly, and enticing thoughts enter my mind at the possibility of tonight.

  We walk out into the parking lot of my apartment building, Ethan leading the way to his car, his fingers intertwined with mine. Opening the door for me, I see how his muscles flex and move under his shirt, and I want nothing more than to see them flex without any barriers.

  The leather seats of his Audi mold into my body perfectly, and I wait for him to start the car and drive us to our destination. I have no idea where we’re going, but I’m content sitting with him in his car watching the streets pass by.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see. I promise you’ll love it.” His right hand is holding my left one, his thumb brushing mine seductively. Ethan’s eyes are focused on the road, but I know better than to think he isn’t completely aware of my movements, my breathing, my being in his car. Our seductive teasing with just our hands has filled the car with heady tension and desire.

  I see the lake near us, and he finally parks not too far from the shore. “Now will you tell me where we’re going?” I step out of the car to the sunshine. The weather has been cooperative lately, which is a nice change from the cold wind that rips through you on a normal day.

  “We’re going to have a picnic on the shore.” He opens the trunk and pulls out a picnic basket. I notice white hydrangeas in his other hand. “These are for you.” His dimpled smile appears as he gives them to me. They are absolutely beautiful.

  I bring them up to my face and inhale their sweet aroma. “Thank you. They’re gorgeous.” The bundle is abundant, with small white petals tickling my nose as I smell them. He puts on a charcoal military jacket while I enjoy the scent exuding from the flowers. Another layer to separate us—great.

  “A picnic?” I am suddenly aware of what he’s planned. “We’re in Chicago, not Miami.”

  “The weather is nice, why not take advantage? If it rains, you’ll just get a little wet.” I hear the double meaning, his eyes glimmering with delight.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I pat his chest and walk away from him, swaying my hips with purpose.

  He catches up to me effortlessly and grabs hold of my hand with his free one, pulling me into him, forcing my hand around the back of his waist and wrapping his around my shoulder so we’re holding each other as we walk towards the shore of the beach.

  “I figured we’d take a chance on the weather.” He kisses my temple, and we make our way down to the sand. I notice a few people staring in confusion as Ethan lays out the blanket he’s brought. No one picnics in Chicago in April.

  I stretch my still sore body out on the blanket, supporting myself on my elbows, looking out to the water. Ethan is sitting beside me, his legs stretched out in front of him. My white flowers resting beside the basket.

  I sigh in contentment. I know we still have things to talk about, but I want this date to be about us, right now. I don’t want to ruin it with accusations or doubts. I want to enjoy him and give him the time he wants from me. He’s put a lot of thought into this and he’s been a persistent ass at times, but the way my heart accelerates when I hear his name, how my breathing hitches at the sight of him, and the love that swells me are not false emotions. I love him with all my being. I always have.

  He finally opens up the basket and brings out a bottle of Moet and two champagne flutes. “I believe a toast is in order.” The popping sound of the cork resonates all around us, golden bubbles fizzling to the top of the bottle and disappearing back down, preventing a cascade of my favorite drink over the top.

  “I thought the beach was an alcohol-free zone.”

  Ethan shrugs coolly, “No one’s around to check.”

  I take hold of the champagne flute he’s handing me, the bubbles seductively inviting me to indulge in its fruity and sumptuous nectar.

  “Cheers.”

  “Cheers,” I repeat, taking a sip of the delicious drink cooling and warming me in a contradicting flow of sensations.

  Ethan continues to bring things out of the basket and places them on the blanket in their containers. I see olives… cheese—looks like goat cheese… prosciutto… some kind of salad… crackers. These are some of my favorite foods. He really did put thought into making this perfect. Along with the food, Ethan has packed toothpicks, a small spreader knife for the cheese, and two appetizer plates. Nothing plastic for this picnic—it’s all real silverwa
re and plates.

  “Well, aren’t we fancy,” I tease Ethan, until I see the look in his eyes, the same look that drives me wild.

  “Only the best for you.” He’s leaned into me, his breath mingling with mine, heat radiating from him. I just want to throw him back on the blanket and climb on top of him, feeling his hard body beneath mine.

  Before I can inch closer, he moves back to begin opening the containers. “Let’s eat. I also have macaroons for dessert.”

  “I know what I’d like to eat…” I mumble under my breath and hear Ethan chuckle beside me. God, he hears everything I say.

  “Yeah, yeah, you want a piece of me.” Ethan smiles mockingly, wiggling his eyebrows. I lightly hit his shoulder in annoyance and grab an olive, the delicious saltiness coating my mouth as I devour it. I continue to indulge in the food. The creamy tanginess of the goat cheese spreading perfectly on the cracker, balancing the flavors, reminds me of my days in Europe.

  Actually, all of these foods remind me of Europe; roaming the streets of Spain as I hopped into bars before lunchtime and had a quick tapa with a glass of wine, or spending hours sitting outside an Italian café drinking Prosecco and snacking on prosciutto and bread. This is the Europe he and I were supposed to discover together, but circumstances got in the way of that.

  Feeling nostalgic, I lie down on the blanket and place my head on his lap, enjoying the rhythmic movement of this breathing soothing my mind. “Are you okay?” Ethan interrupts my thoughts.

  “Yes, just thinking.”

  “What’s going on in there?” He taps my forehead, signaling at the thoughts he knows are running wild in my mind.

  “Just remembering Europe.” His hand is caressing my hair, calming and seducing me at the same time. Why is such a simple motion so enticing?

  “Tell me about it.” His voice grows serious, combination between guilt and not wanting to know how much fun I had without him. If he only knew.

  “It was great. I already told you.”

  “Tell me everything. Every detail, every path you took. Make me a part of it, please.”

  I tell him everything, from the plane ride out to the first outing in England. I tell him about Michelle and Ireland, walking the different streets in different cities. I sheepishly confess how I imagined him in every corner, every street, every crack. The truth escapes me unexpectedly but honestly.

  With each word I release, his hold on me tightens. I feel the heaviness of his emotions with each stroke of my hair, and his breathing is jagged.

  “Ava…”

  “Shhh… I’m still talking.” I try to soothe him, show him that I’m okay, but I feel the tension surround him. It’s like a tornado pulling me into it uncontrollably. Something is up. I continue with my story, detailing every part of Europe, ignoring the gnawing feeling building in my stomach. I also want to make sure Ethan is happy and safe. I want him to understand that I really do love him, despite what we went through.

  “Ava, listen to me—”

  “Ethan, this is perfect, don’t worry about what happened.” The last thing I want is his guilt to ruin our date.

  “Just listen to me.” The authority in his voice calls my attention, and I look up to sad, green eyes. “I love you. I always have. Nothing has ever changed that or will ever do so, but you need to know that I never meant to abandon you. I never meant to break your heart. It was just so much for me to handle. I saw the life I imagined living with you slipping away. Not being able to move forward like I so desperately wanted to.”

  “I know this, Ethan. Can’t we just enjoy this date?” I inhale deeply, allowing my breath to flow through my body and filling my lungs. I just want to relax and enjoy each other tonight.

  Ignoring me, he continues to talk, “I met with a cancer support group. Mostly family and friends of people going through cancer or had lost loved ones because of it. It was so hard to hear their stories. The pain that surrounded them. That surrounded me. I never told anyone I went. I would just sneak off for an hour a week. There was this one girl who had lost her boyfriend to Leukemia. The devastation in her broke me. I saw myself reflected in her, and I couldn’t stand to feel what she was feeling.”

  “What? Why? You never told me.” I’m shocked and unable to form proper sentences.

  “I thought it would help me. I never told anyone.” The pain in his voice is evident.

  “But me. You could’ve told me.” I’m hurt to think he didn’t trust me enough to confess this sooner. I would’ve helped him. I would’ve understood.

  “I didn’t want to admit I needed help to deal with it. I felt like I was betraying you, and if I told you, it would seem like I was too weak. You needed me to be strong and in control.”

  “No, I just needed you. I would’ve understood. I would’ve helped you, too. Yes, I was sick and physically weak, but I was fighting. I was damned if I would let the cancer kill me.”

  “I know.” His hand continues to comb through my hair, but now I’m confused as to why he wouldn’t tell me. Did he feel I would look at him differently? Did he think I’d judge him for seeking help?

  He continues to talk, looking straight ahead to the water. “I was afraid if you got sick again later on in life that I wouldn’t be able to handle that. Many people were dealing with relapses. I had seen you suffering and fighting, but you were young. What if that happened when we were older? What if the cancer came back if you ever did heal? It was too much. I know this sounds horrible, but it’s what I was scared of then. Now, I’ve lived with you and I’ve lived without you.” He looks down at me making eye contact.

  “There’s no question in my mind that I would stay and fight with you. Because no matter how hard life was watching you fall apart and almost die, it was worse without you in it. Knowing you did heal. Knowing you were off doing something you’ve always dreamed of, and I was here alone, hating myself for not being with you.”

  His thumb wipes a tear rolling down my cheek. I’ve had the same fear. What if the cancer does come back? Will he truly be able to stay by my side, or is it just failure waiting to happen? This was the constant battle I had with myself when I realized I would always love him.

  Love is one thing, but trusting life to not throw you into the storm again is another. He says he’d rather live through it with me, but who really knows. He made the same promises years ago, too. “Ethan, maybe—”

  “Nope. Don’t say what you’re thinking. I already know. I won’t run again. I promise. I’d rather have a full life with you, whether it’s five years or fifty, and I’m betting on the fifty, than no life at all. Besides, this is a what if scenario. I bet you never get sick again.” He’s so sure of it. Things are different, and he knows what it would be like, but I still fear the what if.

  “And what happens if you win that bet?”

  “I spend my entire life loving you until we’re old and gray and we both die together in our bed sleeping.”

  “You’re so morbid.”

  “Well, I am not spending another day without you, and I won’t be able to leave you, so we die together,” he states his solution so obviously. I don’t like to think about death, even if I’m old and wrinkled.

  “Sometimes I wonder what thoughts pass your mind.” I shake my head and look out into the water, listening to the serenade of the waves on the soft blanket of sand. The sun is playing hide and seek along the horizon, slowly dipping lower into the water, painting the sky with reds and oranges.

  “Right now I’m thinking of how much I want to see those pictures from last night.” His voice is raw and seductive.

  “Do you now? And what do I get in return for showing them to you?” I look back up at him, my head still on his lap, and I feel his cock stiffen under me.

  “We’ll see what you get. Now give me those pictures.” I purposely move my head over his length before sitting up to get the pictures.

  “Stop,” he warns. I look back at him innocently.

  “I’m just sitting up to grab
the pictures from my purse.”

  “Sure.”

  I pull them out, and we begin to look through them, laughing and talking about last night; seeing people I hadn’t seen in years, the different eccentric outfits, dancing, and Stacy’s indifference towards Aiden.

  “I love this picture.” Ethan is holding the picture right after he and Dan walked into the booth. I’m looking up at him behind me, and he’s looking down at me. There are three other people in that photo booth, but it seems like we are alone in that picture, lost in each other.

  Then we come across the pictures of us alone in the booth, the passionate embrace, and the full-blown make-out session. The pictures become darker, silhouettes caught in their lustful affair.

  We can make out what is happening behind the darkness covering us, and it almost looks like a flipbook as we pass each picture; our bodies tangled together, me stripping my leggings, my leg raised on the bench, Ethan kneeled in front of me, his head lost between my legs, my body reacting to his mouth on my most intimate part, and me sitting on the bench as Ethan stands in front of me after his mouth devoured me.

  I squirm at the memory we’re reliving. “They’re hot.” Ethan brings me back from my thoughts. I nod in acknowledgement. They are sexy and secretive. If someone sees them quickly, they would probably just seem like dark photos, not worth giving a second look at, but we know what’s documented in them. Our first intimate encounter in years.

  His fingers have somehow found mine and intertwined in them. He kisses the inside of my wrist, and then leans in to place a kiss on my neck, slowly inching closer to my mouth. He wraps our interlocked hands around my back to pull me near him. Our lips touch and electric sparks run down my body, igniting me with fiery passion. This man consumes me completely.

  Our tongues dance to their own beat, my pulse races, and I move to straddle him. We don’t break away from each other, and I’m sure we’re putting on quite a show for passersby, but we’re far enough from the sidewalk to be seen by many. Deepening the kiss, my body begins to rock over his with primal desire. My hand, now free of his, wraps around his neck crushing our bodies together, and I let out a small moan that reverberates in his mouth. The only noises are a far away whistle from a passerby and the waves crashing more fiercely into the shore.