by B. L. Berry
Jason groans in discomfort, but he takes the abuse because we both know he deserves it. I get a sick satisfaction in his physical pain.
“I’m serious. Get the fuck out, Jason.”
“Jesus Christ, Elyse! You just crushed my nuts. I couldn’t walk even if I wanted to.” Tears spring from his eyes and he rolls onto his side pulling his knees into his chest tightly.
I know he didn’t come here to hurt me but if I’m being honest, I feel a little bad about jacking him right in the junk. We’ve never physically hurt one another. And as much emotional pain as he’s capable of unleashing, I know he would never deliberately hurt me on a physical level.
“Yeah. Sorry about that,” I say with a little too much delight. He continues to roll around on my floor like an animal and whines like the little titty baby he truly is. “So did you have something to say or were you curious to see if I wanted a cheap fuck? Because let me tell you, I am not the same woman you left high and dry three days before our wedding.” I’m so angry that he’s here in my home, I’m practically spitting on him as I speak.
“Just hear me out, Elyse. Just listen and I’ll walk out the door and never come back unless you want me to.”
His eyes plead with me and I feel my hard exterior soften ever so slightly for him. I hate that through all the shit he still has the power to pull on those few remaining heartstrings that will always love some tiny piece of him.
I learned long ago that no matter how much you loathe a past love, some small piece of you will always belong to them.
“Fine. But only if you’re willing to hear me out when you’re done spitting bullshit.”
I move to the couch and tuck my legs underneath me, staring down at the man I once thought was my future.
Jason is silent for a while, probably trying to stop the room from spinning or bracing himself from my wretched blow to his manhood. I grow impatient from waiting, so I jump start the conversation. I want this over and I want him out.
“So how’s my favorite cousin? I love that you kept it in the family.”
“Stop. Just stop it and listen.” He pushes his body up and props his back against the wall.
“Oh? This should be good.” I fold my arms and raise my eyebrows. “Go on. I’m listening.”
“Don’t be like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I don’t know? A bitch! You’re not being yourself, Elyse.”
I snort, finding amusement in his revelation of just how much I’ve changed. “No, that’s where you’re wrong, Jason. Just because I’m no longer the Elyse you once knew doesn’t mean I’m not being myself. The Elyse that you knew died the day you ran off with Aimee,” I bite back.
His face contorts and he looks away, avoiding eye contact because he knows that I’ve changed and I now have the life and the kind of love he could only wish for.
“And this Elyse?” I say, pointing to myself for emphasis. “This Elyse doesn’t have time for your pathetic bullshit. So say whatever it is you need to say so you can feel better about your sorry ass and get the fuck out.”
This newfound confidence gives me a rush. I never would have stood up to Jason like this before. And I know that I have Simon’s presence in my life to thank for this moment of strength.
Jason’s shoulders slump and he looks at the floor. When he finally speaks again, his voice is soft and slurred. “I … I didn’t realize how good I had it with you. I’m sorry. I’m so, so fucking sorry.”
Good. “You should be sorry. But I want you to know that I will never forgive you. You can’t unsay words. You can’t undo actions — you can’t unfuck her. We are irreparable.”
“I know. And you’re right. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I don’t deserve you. And I hate that it took me so fucking long to realize it, but it’s you that I love, Elyse. I love you. I never stopped loving you. And I want the chance to make things right. I want you back.”
The maniacal laugh that escapes my lips is downright terrifying. It’s deep and comes from the depths of my belly. I laugh so hard it hurts, and it shatters whatever convoluted hope that Jason had coming into my home to try and take back something that was never his to begin with.
“You know, Jason, it took a long time to undo the damage you did. I loved you unapologetically. I loved you enough to look beyond your flaws and fuck ups. And when you delivered the final blow just days before we were supposed to get married, I stupidly still loved you.” I stand up and walk next to him, glaring down at his pathetic ass as he closes his glossy eyes and breathes slowly. “But I’ve grown up a lot since then. The reality you gave me forced me to grow up in a way I never imagined possible. And I’ve realized that what we had wasn’t love at all.
“Now I know that love is a two-way street. I gave you everything I had and it was never enough for you. The love you gave me in return was empty and meaningless and convenient. I hope you find that exact kind of love because that is the only relationship you are worthy of.”
Jason’s eyes turn red and I can tell he’s trying to control his breathing. He opens his mouth to speak, but I don’t let him get a word in.
“But me? I’ve found something worth fighting for, someone worth fighting for. Someone who I’m worthy of and who’s worthy of my love. And I’m not about to spend another moment of my life wasting it on you. See your ass out, Jason.”
I step over his body and storm into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. With my back pressed against the back side of my bedroom door, I pant realizing that I’ve just admitted aloud something I’ve been hell bent on keeping inside.
I’m in love with Simon.
Fourteen
Pulp and Ink
Olivia has been talking nonstop since she arrived an hour ago. She’s easily polished off the bottle of red single-handedly considering I’ve barely sipped half of my glass. I love my best friend, but I haven’t been following anything she’s been saying. I’m too tired and my mind is beyond preoccupied.
“So yeah, the guy I met last weekend? He bangs too hard. Definitely not going to see him again. If Nathan is anything like his brother, he’s probably worth waiting around for. I wonder what kind of lay Nathan is. Do you think he likes it rough and raunchy? I mean, I can only assume that’s how Simon likes it based on how you blush every time I ask about your sex life. Maybe it runs in the family?”
“Uh huh …” I rest my fist against my chin and swirl the wine in my glass. Out of the corner of my eye, Olivia shifts her weight and puts her glass down on the coffee table.
“What the hell, Elyse? Did you hear what I said?”
I shake my head, rattling my thoughts. “I’m sorry … what?”
“I say the dude fucks too hard and you give a lackluster ‘uh huh.’ What has gotten into you, El?”
“I’m exhausted. I didn’t really sleep last night.” No sense hiding it from Olivia. I know if I don’t tell her she’ll just badger it out of me. I take a deep breath and keep my eyes focused on a faded red wine stain on my couch cushion. “I’m late.”
“Like … late late? Or late for your waxing appointment because your best friend won’t shut up late?”
Slowly, I exhale all of the air from my lungs, look Olivia square in the eye and whisper, “Late late.”
“Fuck,” Olivia says in an incredulous exhale. “Haven’t you been careful?”
“Of course. We used a condom every time. But nothing is ever failsafe.” Well, nothing except abstinence, and let’s be honest, from the moment I first saw him I was doomed — no way was I not going to experience a body like that just once.
“Wait … you’re not on the pill?”
“No. After Jason left I stopped taking it. The hormones made me feel like shit.” In hindsight, that was probably one of the stupidest decisions I’ve made in a long time, given the revolving door of gentlemen callers I engaged with.
She gnaws at her thumbnail for a moment before springing up off the couch to grab her purse. “Well! There is o
nly one way to find out and there is absolutely no sense in sitting here not knowing whether or not you’re knocked up. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
And just like that, my best friend disappears and I close my eyes, sitting in a comfortable, numbing silence. I must have dozed off because when I open my eyes, Olivia is shaking my shoulders.
“Enough beauty sleep, Elyse. We’ve got work to do.” Olivia shoves the plastic bag in my hand and I reach in to see examine the purchase that will determine my fate. My hand wraps around a freezing cold package and I pull out a pint of Breyer’s mint chocolate chip.
“Ice cream. Really?” I’m questioning Olivia’s sanity right now.
“What? It’s a logical purchase. If it’s positive, we purge our sorrows because you can’t have booze. If it’s negative, we celebrate. Besides, it’s your favorite flavor. So quit your bitching. Chug and go pee.” She pulls out the pregnancy test from the bottom of the bag and pushes a bottle of water into my hand. I bring the cool liquid up to my lips, draining the bottle in a few fast gulps.
Then I wait. And because waiting is not something I do gracefully, I anxiously burn a hole in the carpet, pacing back and forth.
When I finally feel like I need to pee, I hesitate. I honestly don’t want to take it because once I know, there’s no going back. I can’t un-know things if I turn out to be pregnant.
“Stop procrastinating. Get in there and take care of business.” Olivia practically pushes me into the bathroom.
“Come with me?”
“Ew! I am not holding your hand while you pee. I’ll wait with you, but for now you’re on your own.”
On my own. Could I really end up being on my own with this? What if I am. What if Simon isn’t ready for kids again and leaves me?
I open up the box and spread its contents on the bathroom vanity. My hands quiver and I drop the plastic wrapping of the little stick and I watch it bobble down into the sink basin.
You can do this, Elyse.
After I finish, I wash my hands, rest the test on the counter, set a timer on my cell phone and walk out of the bathroom.
“I can’t … I don’t want to watch it.”
Olivia nods and opens her arms for a hug. I let her swallow me whole in a bear hug of monstrous proportions. “Everything is going to be okay. No matter what happens, no matter what the test says. I’m here for you.” I love Olivia’s reassurance. I wipe a tear away from my eye and nod my head, thankful to have a friend so wonderful.
“I’ll look. Okay?”
I turn to sit down on the couch and send a silent prayer up to the heavens. I am in no way prepared for two little blue lines to come to fruition. I’m too young. I’m not married. There is no way any doctor in their right mind would allow me to take a baby out of the hospital. I can’t even keep a cactus alive and they don’t need water!
I know Simon wants children, and based on how our relationship is unfolding, I’m fairly certain he wants them with me, but we’ve only started dating. We both share the opinion that we’re not in any rush. I want to get settled. Experience life with him for a while. Travel the world together.
Even with all of our grand plans, surely he’ll be receptive to the news should we be expecting.
Holy shit. This is the longest two minutes of my entire life.
As if she read my thoughts, Olivia pops her head out of the bathroom door. Her smile perks me up instantly. “Grab the spoons, you lucky slut. It’s time to celebrate!”
All of the anxiety I had been harboring escapes my body in one giant exhale. Relief washes over me and I instantly feel lighter.
Thank you, sweet baby Jesus.
“Are you going to tell him about the scare?” Olivia asks after we’ve killed off the carton of ice cream and moved onto a bottle of red.
“No. He’s under a lot of stress with work lately. They have him traveling too much and I don’t want to add any unnecessary baggage.”
Olivia scolds me with a single glance.
“I know, I know. I’ll tell him when the timing is right.” I roll my eyes at her and top of her glass.
“Based on your avid sex life, I take it things are going well between you two?”
I feel my face flush scarlet and my heart swells at the thought of how things are going between us. It’s strange thinking about the fact that I started this as a fling.
“You could say that,” I say, not bothering to hide the stupid smile taking over my face. “But it’s not just about the sex. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the sex is beyond phenomenal. I just never imagined that my one night stand would turn into my one and only.”
“You’re crazy.”
“And that’s exactly the kind of love I have for Simon. Crazy, soul-searing love.” My cheeks hurt from smiling. Being with Simon is like dreaming with my eyes open. All I see is possibility and limitless love in front of me. And it’s absolutely wild. “He’s nothing like Jason. Jason never made me feel like this.”
Olivia squeals and claps her hands together like a giddy schoolgirl in excitement. I love how she’s supportive of me and never jealous.
“You’re in deep, girl. Have you told him that you love him?”
“Not yet, though I’m certain he knows. He’s done everything short of saying the words aloud to me. But with the way he looks at me, he doesn’t need to say a word.”
“You should really let him know.”
“I know. I just can’t come out and say it though.”
“Why not? You’re a copywriter. Words are sort of your thing.”
“Emphasis on the writer. I can’t just spit out ‘I love you, now pass the butter,’ as we have dinner.” It takes me time to articulate my thoughts, hand-picking the perfect words because you only get one chance to say it the first time. So it’s beyond important to say it the right way. Words simply don’t do this emotion justice.
“So write him. Tell him in a letter. Give him a piece of you that he can hold onto and share with your grandchildren in forty years.” I smile at the thought of a dozen kids circled around our feet as we share the story of how we fell in love. “You have to admit, that’s sweet. And hella romantic.”
“Maybe,” I muse.
“No. Definitely.” Olivia grabs her phone and orders us a Chicago-style pizza for delivery.
After indulging in a delivery from the world’s greatest pizzeria, Lou Malnati’s, Olivia takes off and I pour myself another healthy glass of pinot noir to help put myself at ease.
I grab my favorite pen and a piece of paper, then settle on the couch, trying to resurrect the long lost art of letter writing, a piece of me that he can have for keeps. The words flow as freely as the wine. And by the time I sign my name in my standard script at the bottom of the paper, I have a delightful buzz coursing my veins. Admittedly, it’s not just from the alcohol. It was far easier to bleed my heart out onto the page than I imagined. Writing little love notes for Jason was always a challenge and I felt like he never took them to heart. But Simon? My love for him is as natural as breathing and I know that these words are going to touch him in the deepest of places.
I fold the page over and over again until the letter is in a small square. A love letter for when we’re apart. A small token to let him know I’m there with him, at least in spirit.
Fifteen
Negative
“Good morning, beautiful.” Simon softly kisses my eyelids and my body responds to his touch with a hum as I stretch my arms. This man has brought me to life in every way imaginable.
I’m surprised that he’s up this early considering how late we were up last night … or rather, this morning.
“Would you like any coffee, hun? I think I’m going to run down the block and grab some.”
I hum softly to myself. “Coffee would be divine.”
“Divine? What’s divine is when I get back and make you breakfast in bed. Then perhaps I’ll dine on you for second breakfast … and brunch …and maybe lunch, too.” He throws a wink my direction a
nd my body catches fire from his words. Staying in bed with him all day is exactly what I want to do.
“You are so bad!”
“Judging from the things you screamed as you clawed my back last night, I’d say I’m actually pretty good.”
I laugh and playfully swat his arm with the back of my hand. Simon lays his head next to mine on my pillow and gives a sincere smile before kissing me on the tip of my nose. I wish I could crawl into his mind and piece together his thoughts. Experience what this feels like from his point of view. Because I’d give anything to know that what he feels is just as real.
“Seriously though, would you likes pancakes or an omelette?”
“Nobody has ever made me breakfast in bed before. But I like that you want to spoil me,” I admit with a sleepy yawn.
“No, I’m not spoiling you. I’m treating you precisely as my girl deserves to be treated.” He crawls out of bed then leans over me to give me a kiss, stopping a mere whisper away from my mouth. “So what’ll it be?”
“You,” I say, stretching up to kiss him, but he pulls back before I can catch his mouth.
“Nuh uh, I’m making you breakfast first.”
Translation: I need coffee.
“Fine. I’ll take an egg white omelette with cheese and peppers.”
“And for your coffee? Your usual?”
“Yep. My usual, please.” I smile, loving that he knows me so well.
Simon reaches out and runs his fingers through my hair. “I like a woman who knows exactly what she wants.” A devilish grin crosses his face as we both know he’s not talking about breakfast. Simon lowers his mouth back down to mine and when our lips finally come crashing together, it’s the kind of kiss that’s laced with promise and hope. It’s slow like honey and overflowing with passion. The kind that is so perfect it leaves you hot, bothered, breathless and wanting … no, needing more.
