“Brandon?” I asked tentatively. I knew I needed to tread lightly.
He looked up from his thoughts. His eyes were filled with a mixture of emotions. He took a sharp intake of breath and shifted in his chair. “Des, I’m not sure what to say right now. I think I need time to digest all this.”
“Will you be there for me at least?” I kept my voice soft.
“Of course, Des. I’ll be there for you and the baby. I’ll own up to my responsibilities here. I’m just in shock right now and need to figure out what this all means.” I could hear the panic in his voice and my heart went out to him.
“Do you want to hear about my plans?” I smiled at him.
“Plans?” He looked confused. “I thought you just said you’re keeping it.”
“Yes, I am. I meant my plans generally. Since I have family here in SF and you’re here …” I paused and looked into his warm, brown eyes—those eyes that I feel in love with so many years ago. “Well, I decided that I’m going to move back to SF. Los Angeles is not a great place to raise a child, and I want the child to be close to you and my family,” I paused before I continued, “Will you help me move?” I braced myself for his answer. After so many years with him in my life, I knew Brandon better than I knew myself. I was pretty sure of his answer, but the anticipation still made me uneasy.
“Moving back?” I could hear the terror in his voice. “When?”
“Next week,” I said softly.
“When did you decide all this?” His eyes were wild with confusion and shock.
“Actually, just this weekend. After talking to my family about it, I decided that it was the right decision, and I wanted to move now when I’m still able to. Plus, one of my friends just closed on a condo, so she’s going to sign over the lease to her apartment to me.”
“Next week?” He asked again, as if he didn’t hear me correctly when I said it.
I nodded. “Brandon, will you really be there for me and the baby?”
“Yes, of course.” There was a sadness in his eyes that I didn’t understand.
“I love you, Brandon. I really do.” There were tears in my eyes. I was not going to give up on us. I knew that there was something here.
He looked at me, and I saw the pained look on his face that I never liked to see—the look he had when he needed to give someone some bad news. “Des … believe me when I say that I will be there for you and the baby.” He paused. “But, that’s it. This doesn’t change anything between us. I’m with Emma. I love Emma.”
I cringed. Her name out of his mouth was like nails on a chalkboard for me. His words felt like a cold dagger to my heart. I looked away from him, but kept my face free of emotions. “You may think that now, but I know you love me, Brandon.”
He sighed. “Des, I care about you and I do love you, but as a friend.” His last word was like a hard slap to my face.
“You don’t have to admit it, Brandon, but I know how you feel. You wouldn’t have made love to me just four months ago if you didn’t feel something for me. That’s just not you.”
“Des, that night was a mistake.” I could hear the anger in his voice, which made me flinch. He noticed my pained reaction and his expression softened. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I don’t want hurt you. But I also don’t want to lead you on. We shouldn’t have had sex that night. You had just lost your father, and I was there trying to comfort you. I knew you were vulnerable. I shouldn’t have let you convince me to take so many shots with you that night. I knew you were trying to numb out the pain. And watching you go through that pain brought back the old painful memories of when I lost my mom, and when you were there for me. In a way, I was trying to numb out my own pain.”
He lowered his face and rubbed his temples with his hand and sighed. “I know that’s not an excuse for what we did. It’s my fault. We shouldn’t have slept together.”
“It’s no one’s fault.” My voice was strained as I reached over to touch his free hand and squeezed it. “You didn’t take advantage of me. I wanted you to make love to me that night,” I admitted.
He moved his hand away from me and looked at me. “I’m sorry for hurting you. You don’t deserve that, especially not from me. I wish I could give you what you want, but I can’t. I just don’t have those feelings for you anymore. I’m sorry.”
“Okay,” I pulled my hand back onto my lap and looked away from him. I knew he remembered the night when he told me he loved me, when he told me he would never love another woman the way he loved me. We just needed some time to reconnect, to rekindle the love we had. He needed to be reminded of how much he had loved me. I would be patient. I would wait until he came around.
Chapter Six
Emma
I looked at the time on my cell phone and wondered where Brandon was. He was 30 minutes late.
It was Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, and Brandon and I have dinner plans. Tomorrow I was driving north to Sacramento to have Thanksgiving with my mom. The girls were driving into SF Saturday afternoon and staying until Sunday morning. I was really excited to see them. I wish they could stay longer, but Steph and Glo had flights to catch Sunday.
I also really wished that Brandon would be around to meet them too, but he said he had some last minute family thing he had to help out with in Sausalito, a small waterfront town just north of SF, and wouldn’t be around all weekend.
My phone beeped. It was Brandon. “Hey, where are you?” I asked.
“Sorry, I got held up. I’m around the corner from your place. Meet me out front in a minute.”
“Okay.” I grabbed my purse and headed out the door. I was excited to see Brandon. It had been a whole week since we made up, but we haven’t spent too much time together. The new projects at work has kept me busy, and when I was free, Brandon seemed to be busy with his projects.
I didn’t want to believe it, but sometimes I felt like something was bothering him, like he was preoccupied and always deep in thought in his own world.
I opened the door to Brandon’s black Audi S7 and got in. Brandon leaned over and gave me a hug. “Hi babe. Sorry for being late.” I inhaled the intoxicating smell of his cologne and felt myself melt into his arms.
“It’s okay, but I’m starving. Are we going to make our dinner reservations?”
“Probably,” he said, “but I was thinking we can just do something casual, like walk around Fisherman’s Wharf and get some clam chowder at one of the vendor at Pier 39. I know it’s a bit touristy, but I’d like some fresh air. Is that okay?”
“Sure. I actually haven’t been to Fisherman’s Wharf since I’ve moved here, so I’m game,” I said cheerfully. I looked at him and felt like something was wrong. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Why do you ask?” He looked at me with concern. He looked tired and stressed, which worried me.
“I don’t know. You’ve just been a little distant since last Wednesday, and I’m not sure why.”
“Oh, sorry. I’ve just been really busy,” he said, and immediately added, “With work.” He turned away from my gaze and started the engine.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Don’t worry, Emma. There’s nothing wrong.” He gave me a quick glance of reassurance before returning to the road. “So I’m sorry again for not being around to meet your friends this weekend. I hope they won’t be too upset with me.”
I looked at him, trying to study the expression on his face and wondering if he was just tired from work, or whether it was something else.
“It’s okay.” I felt like I was saying that a lot lately. “I told them that something came up with your family.” I don’t know why, but I had a feeling there was something more to the story that he wasn’t telling me.”
“Well I’m glad I can at least house you guys for the weekend. I’m glad my absence was at least useful.” He gave me a faint smile, and I tried to return it. Since Brandon would be away all weekend, he offered up his place for the girls to stay during their visit.
>
“Thanks for offering again. I know we’ll be more comfortable there than mine. No one will have to draw straws to see who gets the floor,” I joked.
He gave me a smile and turned back to the road.
“So what are your plans for the weekend?” I asked, hoping to get some comfort from his answer.
He remained silent for a few seconds, and then he turned to me with a look of confusion, “Sorry, did you just ask me something?”
“I … I was just wondering what you were doing this weekend?” Something was wrong. I just knew it. His heart’s not really in this conversation.
“Oh, I’m just helping out a family member.”
“What’s wrong? Are they okay?” Please tell me something.
“No, nothing like that. Just some last minute family crisis, and I promised I would be around to help out.”
“Oh.” I didn’t hide the disappointment and confusion in my voice as I looked out my passenger side window.
Brandon pulled the car over, stopped the engine, and turned to me. “I’m sorry, Emma.”
“Sorry for what?” I prompted.
“I know it feels like things have been strained between us lately. I’m sorry I’ve been a little preoccupied with some other things.”
“So something is going on?” So I was right.
“Yes,” I said tentatively, “But it has nothing to do with us, and you have nothing to worry about.”
“Oh. What is it? Are you okay?” I asked, trying to get him to tell me more.
“It’s nothing you have to worry about. I promise I’ll tell you when I know for sure.”
His cryptic words confused me, and left me with more questions than answers. “But what—”
“—please, Emma,” he interrupted. “Can we just enjoy our night together?”
“Sure.” I gave him a small smile, but I was crying and I was screaming at him inside. Something was wrong in Brandon’s life and he was shutting me out.
Chapter Seven
Brandon
After dinner, we took a walk down the pier. The dark, ominous sky stretched across the distant horizon, and a bitter evening breeze blew in from the bay. I put my arm around Emma to keep her warm, but she shrugged it off.
I saw the hurt in Emma’s eyes, and my stomach twisted with unease. I held her hand, yet it was limp in my grasp. She had been distant at dinner, deep in her thoughts. Guilt consumed me as the air between us became more tense and uncomfortable. I wanted to make things better, but I just couldn’t. I knew she was upset with me, and I hated myself for that.
I wanted and needed to tell her about Des and the pregnancy, but I wasn’t ready for that. At least not until after this weekend. This weekend, I wasn’t going to be in Sausalito with the family. Instead, I was flying to Los Angeles to help Des move. I promised Des that I would be there for her and our unborn child, and I couldn’t back out of that promise.
That was the only lie I’ve told Emma. Everything else had been true. Des’s pregnancy would not affect my relationship with Emma—I would not let it. Even though I was going to have a child with Des, Emma was who I wanted to be with. Emma was who I saw in my future.
“Brandon,” she finally said, her voice shaky. “What is going on between us?”
I stopped and pulled her towards me. She avoided my gaze and I knew she was in tears. I held her face with my hands and tilted her face up to look at me. My stomach twisted in agony when I saw the pain in her eyes and my thumb brushed away a tear that was rolling down her cheek.
“Emma, please don’t be sad. There’s nothing wrong between us. Something just came up recently that I need to deal with this weekend. I can’t really talk about it right now, but I promise to tell you all about it next week. Okay?”
She nodded, and I felt her body relax a little in my arms. There was a mixture of hope and fear in her eyes. “You promise?”
“Yes. I promise. But again, you have nothing to worry about. Nothing will change the way I feel about you.”
I lowered my lips onto hers and kissed her tenderly. “You must know how I feel about you, right?”
“I think so,” she whispered and I heard the doubt in her voice.
I gazed deeply in her eyes and instantly felt the undeniable connection between us, “Well, in case there is any doubt: I love you, Emma. Nothing has and nothing will change that.”
***
“The Chinese food is here,” I heard Des’s voice from the living room.
“Great. I’m starving,” I replied as I taped up the last box of clothes in her bedroom. It was 8:15 p.m. on Saturday and I have spent the last two days helping Des pack up her things into boxes and moving them into the U-Haul truck.
I had agreed to drive the U-Haul to San Francisco for her. I knew Des was an awful driver and I didn’t trust her behind the wheel of a large U-Haul truck with our child, especially not a six to seven-hour drive from Los Angeles to San Francisco.
I walked into the living room and a delicious waft of smells hit my nostrils. Des was moving the contents from paper bags. “General Tso’s chicken, that’s mine. Beef and broccoli, that’s yours. And the chow mein and fried egg rolls to share.”
I grabbed one of the egg rolls and scoped some of the chow mein and beef and broccoli onto a paper plate. “Well the bedroom is done. Looks like we won’t have too much stuff to do in the morning before we take off.”
“That’s awesome. Thanks for being here.” Des smiled at me and handed me a cold bottle of Corona, “Here’s a beer.”
“I wasn’t planning on drinking.” That’s what got us into this mess to begin with, I thought.
“God, Brandon. Live a little,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “It’s just a beer. I have a couple of leftovers in the fridge, and well, as we both know, I can’t drink now, so I need someone to finish them off for me. Don’t tell me you’re okay with wasting beer?”
“Sorry. Thanks,” I said as I took the beer from Des. My eyes darted to the growing bump on her stomach, and a bolt of fear and excitement shot through me. Competing thoughts crossed my mind: I’m going to be a father. How will Emma react to the news? Will I be ready for all this?
“Stop staring at me like that.” Des’s voice broke through my thoughts. I blinked and looked up at her.
“What?”
“You were staring at my stomach like you were in a trance. It’s creeping me out.” I can tell from her voice that she was more amused than serious.
“Sorry, I just spaced out for a second there.” Then a thought came to me. “Hey, how come you didn’t tell me sooner about you being pregnant?”
Her expression stiffened and a few seconds passed before she responded, “Well, things were a little awkward after we slept together. I could tell you were avoiding me, so I wanted to give you some space. I wasn’t sure until I took a pregnancy test two months later, in September. After that, I was still trying to decide whether I wanted to keep it, to even tell you.” She avoided my eye contact, and I wasn’t sure if she was crying.
“What made you decide that you wanted to keep it?”
“Because it was your child—our child. I would never intentionally destroy a part of you that’s inside me.”
“Oh.” I grappled with the meaning behind Des’s words. “Des, I’m … I’m sorry. I wish I could give you what you want and what you deserve …” My words trailed off.
“You can,” she whispered. My heart ached for her because we both knew that it wasn’t true.
About an hour later, I had finished off most of my beef and broccoli, half of the chow mien, and three beers. We ate mostly in silence as I checked and responded to some work emails. I felt myself relax a little from the beers as my muscles began to ache from the long day of heavy-lifting. I stretched and rubbed my neck with my arms.
“Do you need a back massage over there?” Des asked from a few feet away.
“Come on, Des. I’m here to help you move. Nothing else. We’ve gone over this already. Don’t push you
r luck.” I knew I needed to make it clear to Des where I stood with her. I needed there to be no doubt in her mind.
“Alright, alright,” she said with her arms in the air. “I was just joking. You used to have a sense of humor, Brandon. What happened to you?”
“Sorry, Des. I just have a lot of on my mind. I know we both made the mistake that night when we slept together. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
“Brandon, it wasn’t a mistake for me.” I heard the hurt in her voice.
“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
I heard her sigh as she rubbed her tired eyes with her hand. “I’m tired, Brandon. I’m going to go take a shower and get ready for bed.”
As she walked away, I was filled with guilt at my harsh words. I knew that I was more at fault than Des was.
I thought back to July when everything happened. Des had called me in the middle of the night in hysterics. She told me that her father had suffered a cardiac arrest earlier that week. They had rushed him to the ER, but attempts to resuscitate him had failed, and he had died en route to the ER. When she called, it was the night of her father’s funeral. She was really drunk and was talking irrationally about the meaning of life. Worried that she would hurt herself, I went out and found her roaming around on the beach by herself and brought her back to my place. When we got to my place, she wanted more alcohol and threatened to leave or scream if I didn’t give her some. She said she needed to numb the pain. It was a feeling that hit close to home. I had offered her some beer, hoping to keep her calm. The rest of the night was a blur, and the next thing I remembered was waking up with her naked in my arms in my bed.
Just then, my phone went off. It was Emma, and I instantly smiled at the sight of her name.
“Hey babe, how’s it going? Shouldn’t you be out?” I asked.
“Hiiii ba-by,” came Emma’s slurred voice from the other end of the line. I could hear loud music and people on her end of the line.
The Day to Remember (Emma's Story) Page 6
