by A B Turner
“Why the hell not?” I gasped, unable to conceal my incredulity at this last statement.
“I got hurt, Carrie, here,” she tapped her chest, “I don’t look like I did anymore.”
I leapt up from the sofa,
“Let me get this straight, Ryan said he didn’t want you because of a scar?” I asked, struggling to stop myself from losing it completely.
“No, you’re not listening, I broke off the engagement, not him !” she yelled back. I turned away from her, temporarily unable to make sense of what I was hearing,
“He’s a really good guy, I know he would have stayed, but because he felt sorry for me not because he wanted me, and I knew I couldn’t stand that, so I told him to go,” her voice trembled, even standing where I was, I could hear she was trying not to cry. I suddenly felt terrible, here I was shouting, when I should be saying something brilliant and wise to make her feel better. I sighed heavily, before turning back to face her, her large eyes had given up their fight to keep the tears back, which now trickled down her cheeks, unrestrained. Every fibre of my being wanted to walk straight over to her, hold her and tell her everything was going to be fine, but I knew, this was not what she needed, so I chose not to move,
“Does he love you?” I asked quietly.
“I really think he does,” she replied.
“So how do you know he wouldn’t want you?” I asked, hating myself for sounding so cold when faced with such raw emotion, but knowing it was the only right thing to do, “You didn’t give him a chance.”
Vanessa looked completely confused, sensing she was unable to answer, despite my growing self-hatred, I continued,
“Did you even ask him how he felt?”
She shook her head slowly, wiping away a stray tear,
“So how do you know what he would have done?” I asked.
“Because, if he’d seen me...” she began, but I interrupted, seizing on the word, ‘if’,
“You mean to say, he hasn’t actually seen this scar?”
Vanessa looked back at me now completely baffled by what must have appeared as my attack on her,
“No,” she stammered, her lips trembling as the word emerged.
“Why?” I shot back,“Why Vanessa?”
“Because I was scared ! Alright Carrie? Is that what you want to hear? I was fucking terrified, if he saw it, he would look at me, maybe like you are right now, so it was easier to tell him to go !” she yelled back, before sinking to her knees and breaking down completely. Unable to maintain my approach any longer, I half-ran to her, fell on my knees and took her tightly in my arms,
“I’m so sorry,” I said, she buried her face in my shoulder and clung on to me for several heart-breaking moments, tears were now streaming down my face as I felt like the worst person in the world, it was only when I sniffed loudly, Vanessa pulled back and looked at me.
“Why are you crying?” she asked, wiping my cheek with her hand.
“Because I’m a horrible person and I made you cry,” I replied, still sniffing, despite everything, my pathetic tone made us both smile. Still on the floor, we shifted back until we were leaning against the sofa, we sat, side-by-side, in silence until we managed to get ourselves back to some semblance of normal, Vanessa spoke first,
“Thank you.”
I turned to her in amazement, unable to understand what possible reason she had to be grateful, when she noted my surprise, she wiped the last tear off her cheek and explained,
“You brought up the crap I didn’t want to hear,and, well, most people don’t do that, so thank you,” she patted my hand, but I was uncomfortable in accepting the gratitude.
“I should have done it better, been kinder,” I said sadly.
“We both know I generally don’t respond to ‘kind’ ,” she smiled, “You should know that, after all, the first time we met , you tried to be kind and I slapped you.”
I reached up to the table and passed her some wine before taking a long drink from my own glass, hoping the soothing liquid would ease the last of the tension away, but I noticed a slight frown creep its way across her brow as she drank,
“What’s wrong?” I asked gently, without speaking, she put her glass down and knelt up in front of me,
“I want you to see it,” she said, her hands gripped the edge of her jumper, “I have to know,” before I could reply, she pulled her top over her head and tossed it on to the floor, “So tell me, Carrie, tell me the truth.”
Despite the fact I had seen her naked before, at first, I felt deeply uncomfortable, fully aware, she was watching me intently and I had no desire to hurt her obviously-fragile emotions any more than I had already done. But equally, I knew she expected me to be honest, so reluctantly, I looked up from the floor and allowed my gaze to drift up her body, starting at her navel. There were no obvious marks, to begin with, other than a few slight scratches, but when my eyes reached her breasts, I saw an angry-looking red line, cross over the top of the right and ending just under the left. As I continued, I saw a similar line scrawled along her right shoulder, but this was shorter and looked somehow less violent than the first, on her left arm were the purplish-yellow marks where bruising was obviously healing slightly. Although I had no idea what I had expected to see, what was now in front of me, was not as bad as I had obviously feared on some level. As I was unsure how to convey this feeling properly, I took a moment to compose my thoughts,
“So?” she asked quietly, but with a distinct hint of urgency, when I still hesitated, she finally lost her last vestige of patience,
“Carrie? For fuck’s sake, am I ugly?” she asked desperately.
“No, for a start, you could never be ugly, Vanessa,” I began reassuringly, “It looks incredibly sore just now, but that will probably fade in time, and I can see there’s some swelling, but that should go down too,” I glanced back at her, “It’s not as bad as maybe you think.”
Vanessa looked doubtfully down at her chest, for several moments, before back at me,
“Really?” she asked, she glanced down again, only this time with much more intensity, tracing the line intently with one finger, after several more minutes, she asked me to pass her the discarded jumper which she quickly put back on before sitting back down next to me, I wanted to say more, but this time, be more careful with my choice of words, so I stalled for time, by reaching up to the table, grabbing the wine and pouring us both another drink. After several moments, I put down my now-empty glass and turned to face her,
“ Vanessa, would you say it’s fair to say we’ve both had an amount of sexual experience in our lives?”
She nodded.
“When you’ve met someone you’re really attracted to, you know what I mean, when even just looking at them is enough to make you feel a little nuts..”
She nodded again, but this time sat a little further forward, now clearly wondering where this was going,
“Well, I don’t know about you, but when I’ve felt that way, they could have a wooden leg and a parrot and it wouldn’t make any difference, because it’s the person I find attractive, not what they look like,” I paused to pour some wine, to give her time to speak, but she was clearly waiting for me to finish my theory.
“So it seems to me, if you really think there is anyone, with a pulse,who will be able look at you and not find you unbelievably attractive, well, I can tell you with total certainty, you’re so wrong , aside from me, of course."
I smiled broadly, but Vanessa just arched an eyebrow to show her disbelief,
“You don’t find me attractive?Really ?” she asked.
“OK, if I’m being honest, I have managed to overlooked the lack of a wooden leg, but you not having a parrot ? Well, I’m not so sure,” I replied apologetically, “What can I say?”
This time it was Vanessa's turn to play this game,
“I’m so sorry to hear you say that, because I find you really hot !”
She leant over and kissed me deeply, before sitting back and
looking steadily at me, clearly enjoying the fact, the force and passion of the unexpected kiss had taken me completely by surprise,
“Are you sure you won’t change your mind?” she asked mischievously.
“I’ll let you know,” I answered, vaguely bemused, while attempting to regain some level of composure. We sipped our wine, in silence, perhaps both a little lost in our own thoughts,
“ So do you feel a bit better ?” I asked gently.
She nodded and took another large mouthful of wine,
“Do you want to know something stupid? That’s the first time I’ve actually looked at it myself.”
We clinked glasses in a silent toast and, just for a moment, enjoyed the peace.
We stayed chatting on the floor for a long time, Vanessa resolved to think about calling Ryan in the morning, with my encouragement, she talked about her latest movie and the places around the world she had visited. I was more than happy to be the audience, prompting her every so often with a question which, I knew, would lead to her sharing another part of her life with me. Our two worlds were so undeniably different, the opportunity to hear more about hers, was one I was reluctant to miss, however, after over an hour, suddenly Vanessa stopped and looked at me,
“You’re very good at that, aren’t you?” she said smiling.
“What do you mean?” I asked, attempting nonchalance.
“Getting me to talk about my stuff, so you don’t have to tell me about yours,” she replied, I felt myself blush slightly, which she also didn’t fail to notice,
“Ha ! See it’s true, come on, Carrie, no more, what’s really been going on with you ? And none of that, ‘nothing really’ crap either, you said you went to a counsellor, what was that about?” she plonked herself directly in front of me, leaving me with no escape from the intensity of her searching eyes. Despite this, I had one last move left, which I hoped might make it possible for me to avoid talking about myself,
“You don’t want to hear about my problems,” I said dismissively, I looked hopefully back at her,
“I’ve got all night Carrie ,” she replied firmly, her eyebrow arched slightly, a sure sign, there was to be no escape, “So why the counsellor?”
I sighed heavily, not really knowing where to start or what to say, when I told her of my confusion, she simply replied to start at the beginning, and stop stalling for time. So I began telling her about how I had felt so out of control with Jay, how I had always wanted to feel more somehow, but now I could, it wasn’t what I’d imagined,
“Truth is, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, so I went to find out,” I finished sadly, Vanessa took my hands in hers,
“Look at me, Carrie,” she insisted, at first, I didn’t move, I suddenly felt embarrassed, but when she repeated the instruction, I reluctantly looked up,
“There’s nothing wrong with you, sex is just easier when there are no emotions involved, there’s nothing more or less to it, than pure physical pleasure ...when it is that way, it frees you up somehow, to just do what you want, do you see?”
“But why does it have to be so violent?” I asked.
Vanessa thought for a moment,
“Maybe you kept those feelings down for so long, when they finally got to come out, they just kinda took over.”
Her words did seem to make some sense, in every way, except one, when I raised this point, she insisted I share it with her ,as she was now clearly quite enjoying her new-found role as my therapist.
“But what about when I was with you? That was different again?” I asked, hoping she would have the definitive answer, I felt her cool hand on my cheek,
“Oh Carrie, you know, no two people are the same when it comes to sex, there are people who do nothing for you but keep the bed warm, whereas others blow your fucking mind !” she laughed gently and even though I felt decidedly awkward, I couldn’t help but smile at her directness, but she wasn’t finished,
“So really the only important question is, which one was I?”
I turned to face her, pretending to be puzzled,
“You know, I’m not sure I remember.”
“Oh really?” she replied somewhat doubtfully, “Perhaps I can jog your memory.”
“Well don’t be offended if it doesn’t work,” I teased.
She took my face in her hands and kissed me, at first, her lips barely brushed mine but when her tongue gently eased into my mouth, I was lost, suddenly nothing mattered more than just being in that moment. Every part of her sensuous mouth seemed to envelop mine with breath-taking ease, as her tongue lingered, gently caressing mine, it felt as if time had been brought to an abrupt halt forcing everything around us to fall silent and still. When she finally pulled back, I could barely breathe,
“So, do you remember now?” she asked quietly, a slight smile seemingly at odds with the hint of a frown which crossed her forehead.
“I remember kissing you once was never enough,” I replied resignedly, knowing I had lost the game we had been playing, but not caring, before she had a chance to speak, I leant forward and we kissed again, this time with more force and urgency than the first. I threaded my fingers through her hair and pulled her closer to me, as the need to explore every part of her mouth became overwhelming. Every cell in my body seemed to be charged with some kind of divine electricity, it wasn’t the pure drive I had felt with Jay, but it was equally powerful and infinitely more magical, with the exquisite tenderness of each gesture and touch. At that moment, nothing else mattered, in truth, nothing else existed, my mind seemed to have made a conscious decision to block everything else out, it was only when I reached for Vanessa's jumper, she suddenly backed away. The sharpness of her movement instantly snapped me out of the dreamlike state, I looked at her, bemused but also concerned I had hurt her in some way,
“Are you alright?” I asked, Vanessa looked away, she was obviously embarrassed, but I was still at a loss as to why, I took her hand,
“Please, tell me what’s wrong?” I pressed, she sighed heavily before looking back at me,
“I don’t know if I will still feel anything,” she answered quietly, “You know, after the accident.”
I sat back, still with her hand in mine,
“What did the doctors say?” I asked carefully.
“They said everything should be fine, but, sex has always come naturally to me, I’ve always known what I’m doing, but now, maybe it’ll be different, maybe I won’t feel anything at all and I’m.....I don’t know...” her voice trailed away, she shook her head slightly, as if trying to make the thought leave her troubled mind without having to say the word. But, it seemed to me, it had to be said,
“Scared?”
“More like fucking pertified,” she answered, her large eyes seeming even bigger as they looked back at me, I felt her hand grip mine even tighter than before.
“I want to help you, you know that, but I don’t know how,” I admitted, wishing I was wiser, just knew more somehow. For a moment, we sat in silence, our hands locked together, as if this contact alone would force an answer to make itself known to at least one of us, at last, Vanessa spoke, her voice barely audible, with her eyes fixed on our hands,
“Carrie?”
“Yes.”
“If you could do anything right now, at this moment, what would you do?”
The question was obviously loaded, but the answer was surprisingly simple,
“I’d be with you.”
Vanessa finally looked up at me, she looked serious as she studied my face, as if looking for some hint there was even the remotest chance I might be saying what I believed she wanted to hear, rather than what I was truly feeling.
“There might occasionally be other people in my life, Vanessa” I continued, “But no-one like you.”
I hoped this simple but undeniably truthful statement might somehow find a way through both her understandable fear and suspicion, although it wasn’t as insightful as I would have wished, it was completely sincere. When she d
idn’t answer straightaway, a small knot of disappointment began to take hold of me, but just as I was convinced I had said completely the wrong thing and had only made matters worse, I noticed a slow smile creep across her face,
“Can I see you?” she asked, echoing her words from when we had first met,
“Only if I can see you,” I answered firmly, she laughed and pulled me to her, we kissed deeply, both relieved some of the tension had been eased. When we parted, I took the hem of her jumper in my hands and slowly lifted it over her head, for some reason, I half-expected her to stop me, but instead she remained motionless. After I carefully laid the jumper over the edge of the sofa, I turned back to face her, her left arm was now crossing her breasts, making it clear she was, despite her words, feeling self-conscious. I gently took her hand and lifted it away, before I leant forward and gently kissed the top of the scar as lightly as possible, I glanced up at her face to see if I was causing her any pain, her eyes were closed but there was no sign of any discomfort. I turned my focus back to the scar, sliding my tongue along it, punctuating each moment with a butterfly kiss, while my mouth explored one breast, I allowed my hand to caress the other, every so often brushing the nipple with my fingertips. I felt Vanessa sigh, before I felt her hands slip inside my blouse and deftly remove it, as the material slid down my shoulders, she leant forward and softly kissed them, pausing only to remove my bra. As we continued slowly exploring each other, I became aware, being with her was unlike any other time in my life, there was no frantic rush, no pounding heart, no breathless drive to achieve some goal, but for all that, it was so intensely beautiful, I never wanted it to end.
I watched as she cupped my soft breasts in her hand and allowed her tongue to drift across them, circling and tasting, when her lips finally came to rest on one, I felt my whole body shiver. She must have felt this, as she glanced up at me, half-smiling, before moving her incredible mouth to the other breast, sucking and licking my warm flesh, causing gentle ripples of pleasure to course through my body. I slid my hands down to her waist, release the button of her jeans and slipped them down over her slim hips, she rested back which allowed me to take them down her toned legs and drop them carelessly to the floor. As she watched intently, I began gently kissing my way back up her soft skin until I reached her thighs, I eased them slightly apart, before moving ever closer to her. Vanessa shifted slightly, she heaved a large cushion down from the sofa and rested her head, before reaching behind my head , her slender fingers entwined in my hair, pulled me towards her. When my lips touched, her grip tightened slightly, pushing me closer, until there was nothing between my searching tongue and the yielding fold of her body. I had wanted to be gentle and unhurried, but the sheer desire to taste every part of her quickly overwhelmed me, I felt her thighs open further, allowing me to explore even further. She began rhythmically thrusting slightly upward,
