My phone beeped. It was Damian: Meet you at the steps of Union Square Park in 15?
I responded: Yup! See you there.
It was the week before Christmas, and Damian and I were meeting up and helping each other with some last minute Christmas shopping around Union Square.
On my way out of my building, I checked the mail. There was a small package for me. It was from Jill’s parents. They’re too sweet. I excitedly opened the package and found an infinity dream necklace in a light blue, velvet pouch. Scrawled on a holiday card accompanying the necklace was a note from Gary and Sue, Jill’s parents:
Merry Christmas, Emma!
We hope this year has brought you much success and happiness in your life—in your career, in your health, and most importantly, in love. We saw this infinity dream necklace in a small shop in Verona, Italy—Italy’s “City of Love.” We immediately thought of you. You have always been a dreamer. So with this necklace, may all your dreams come true. We wish you a warm holiday season with lots of love and laughter.
Love always,
Gary & Sue
Tears rolled down my face as I finished reading the note. Jill was just like her parents: kind, generous, and loving. I put on the round infinity dream necklace around my neck, and I smiled and felt a little more hopeful for the future.
I walked the six blocks down to Union Square from my place. It was a brisk December afternoon and the streets were bustling with shoppers. I sat on the steps of Union Square Park and smiled to myself as I took in the holiday decorations, festive music, and people all around me. The Christmas season always cheered me up.
“Hey gorgeous,” came a husky voice from behind me. Damian pulled me in for a hug and kissed me on the cheek.
“Hey. Ready for some shopping?” I asked brightly.
He groaned. “No, but let’s get it over with. Thanks for forcing me to do this.”
“Of course. I need a distraction.” I laughed.
Damian rolled his eyes. “I’m your go-to distraction.”
“Well, most of my other distractions usually cost money. You’re free,” I teased.
“Right. Hm. I should start charging.” He made a face at me and I laughed.
As we walked, I noticed all the girls we passed gaze lustfully at Damian. I turned and looked at him, and even though I saw the appeal, I did not feel the fast palpitations in my heart that I had felt with Brandon.
“Come on, let’s go inside. It’s getting a little chilly,” I said as I pulled my trench coat tighter around me.
Damian put his arm around me and rubbed my arms.
“Thanks,” I said, smiling at him warmly. “Why are you so nice to me?”
“Because you’re like an innocent, lost puppy. I feel sorry for you,” he teased.
“Hey! Don’t be mean.” I tried to playfully hit him, but before I knew it, my heels caught on a crack on the pavement, and I was falling forwards. Damian caught me just in time and helped me hop back two feet to where my shoe was trapped in the pavement. Damian pulled out the shoe and helped me put it on.
“Thanks,” I beamed at him.
“No problem.”
Just as I was straightening up, my breath caught when I saw him. Walking towards us half a block away was Brandon. He wasn’t alone. Walking besides him was none other than Desiree. They both spotted me.
God, I hope they didn’t see me trip. Why am I such a klutz at the worst moments? I want to look elegant and hot in front of him—in front of her. Why did I have to trip now? I sensed my face grow hot as they approached.
My eyes immediately spotted the bump on Des’s stomach, and all my cheerfulness from minutes ago disappeared. I wanted to be anywhere else but here.
Chapter Thirteen
Brandon
I spotted her from a block away, before Des pointed her out. I saw her trip and wanted to be there to catch her. But I wasn’t there. Instead, another guy was there to catch her. I saw him moments earlier with his arms around Emma, rubbing her arms with his hand. Was this the Damian she mentioned the other night? A jealous rage grew in the pit of my stomach. That should be me with her.
Then, as if she sensed me looking at her, she glanced over at me, and our eyes met. As we approached her and the guy, I could hear the rapid drumming of my heart beat against my chest. God, I’ve missed her, I thought as I looked at her. She took my breath away. I shifted my eyes and looked at the tall, built guy standing next to her, and a sharp pain twists in my chest. She was no longer mine, I thought. She was no longer mine, and I had no one to blame but myself.
When we were in front of them, we all gave each other fake, friendly smiles, as if we were greeting old friends.
“Hi. How are you?” I asked Emma.
“Good. You?” Her voice was overly cheerful as she looked between Des and then back to me. I saw the pain in her eyes that she tried so desperately to hide.
“Same.” I resisted an overwhelming need to wrap my arms around her, to feel her, to kiss her, to smell her, to connect with her. I wanted a moment, however temporary, to hold her in my arms and imagine the perfect life we could have had together. My chest tightened at that thought—that wish that would never be fulfilled.
“Um. Well, this is Damian,” she said, gesturing to the guy. I shook his hand and introduced myself, squeezing his hand harder than my normal handshakes. He responded by tightening his grip.
“Hey, man,” Damian said to me. He looked at my coolly, like there was not a care in the world. He is acting smug, I thought. He must know about me, and know that he got the woman that I want, but can’t have.
“I’m Des,” came Des’s cheerful voice besides me and she reached out and shook Emma’s hand. I saw a gleam in her smile.
“Well,” Emma said meekly as her eyes darted nervously around, focusing on everything—everything but me. There was a few seconds of silence as the awkward tension in the air made it hard to breathe. Emma then looked to her side at Damian. I noticed that his arm was around her again, which enraged me. “Well we should get going,” she said as she turned away from me.
“Emma.” I wanted her to look at me, to look into my eyes, to see—to know—how much I still loved her. She finally looked at me.
“Take care of yourself.” I ended up saying. I wanted to tell her so much more, to go to her and hold her, to never let her go. Yet, something stopped me. Maybe the sadness that still lingered in her eyes when she looked at me, the sadness that I put there. It would have been selfish of me to keep pulling her into my life when I was going to have a child with Des. It was a mistake that I had to live with, but it wasn’t one that Emma had to live with.
I loved her, more than I loved myself, and I knew I had to let her go. She would have a happier, uncomplicated life without me in it. She deserved to be happy—free from pain.
***
Anger, jealousy, and pain consumed me as I watched Emma walk away with that guy, his arms around her like she belonged to him. How did she move on so quickly? What did she see in him? The guy looked like bad news. He was not someone I wanted Emma to hang out with, let alone date. My chest tightened at the thought of them in bed together, of him inside her.
By the time I got to my car, I was fuming. Images of Emma happy with Damian flashed through my thoughts, images of him making her laugh, of him kissing her, of him making love to her, of her screaming his name. My hands gripped forcefully onto the steering wheel as I drove out of the parking garage. I felt sick to my stomach as jealousy took ahold of me.
Somewhere in the midst of my self-torment, I realized how quiet it was in the car. I looked over at Des, who was sitting in the passenger seat, staring blankly. She was looking out the window and I could only make out her profile. Her hands were gently rubbing the bump on her stomach. I realized something was wrong. She wasn’t talking—not going on and on about plans for the baby and planning parenting classes for us. She sat there in complete silence.
“Des?”
She didn’t respond.
“Des? What’s wrong?” my voice more forceful.
Finally, she turned her face towards me, an ominous expression on her face. “Brandon we need to talk.”
My stomach lurched at her words. What now?
Chapter Fourteen
Desiree
Panic coursed through me as we walked to the car. Did that bartender recognize me? I thought I saw a spark of recognition in his eyes.
Shit! He was going to tell her everything. She would know my secret.
I knew sooner or later this would happen, sooner or later I would get caught, sooner or later I would have to tell Brandon before he found out. And yet, at this moment, when my lies were bursting at the seams, threatening their way out into the open, I was still taken by surprise. I was still unprepared for this moment.
I looked over at Brandon, who was walking a few steps in front of me, immersed in thought. He was thinking about her again. He was always thinking about her. I felt the all too familiar stench of jealousy flow through me.
Who have I been fucking kidding? It would always be thoughts of her. It has been almost a month and things have not changed. A sharp pang of sadness and loss washed through me.
Thoughts raced through my mind as I agonized over whether to tell Brandon, whether I was willing to lose everything I had worked so hard and so long for, everything that should have been rightfully mine.
For the last six months, guilt gripped my soul when I began down this path of lies. There were many moments of regret, moments where I wished I could have turn back time and changed what I had done, what I had said, and who I had hurt. I wished I could turn back time so I wouldn’t hurt anymore—a hurt that was masked by this make-believe world I had created for myself, a world I created to shield myself from reality, a world where Brandon loved me and our unborn child.
What was the point? I sighed. The heaviness that had taken resident in my heart made it hard to feel any joy. I rubbed my stomach, and tears instantly filled my eyes.
I was exhausted. Mentally and emotionally. Exhausted in my efforts to try to win Brandon’s love. It was a fool’s errand. There was nothing for me to win.
Brandon may have been with me, spending time with me, taking care of me, but he wasn’t the same Brandon I feel in love with when I was 16. He had changed into a man who was a stranger to me. A man who I had no feelings for.
I’ve changed too. My heart broke as the cold reality hit me: we weren’t the same people we were when we loved each other. Those two people—that love—died with those memories long ago. My heart felt heavy as I mourned over my loss.
I saw the way he looked at Emma, and the way Emma looked at him. That was love—undeniable, heart-wrenching love. My heart ached at the realization that not only did Brandon no longer love me, but I no longer loved him. I had been holding onto something that wasn’t love. I was just holding onto the past, a past where I felt safe, where I felt like I knew who I was and who loved me, where a whole future laid before me. But now, I had nothing, and I was desperate to fill that empty void.
“Des? What’s wrong?” Brandon’s voice broke through my thoughts.
I turned to him and realized that I had to come clean. “Brandon we need to talk.”
I saw the panic in his eyes. Is this how he sees me now? A bearer of bad news?
“I need to tell you some things, but let’s wait until we get back to your place. I want you to focus on your driving.”
“Okay,” he said hesitantly.
I knew he would never look at me the same after this conversation. It may very well be our last.
***
“So what is it that you want to talk about,” Brandon asked me as he handed me a glass of water.
We were seated on the couch. I felt my heart race as I thought through how I was going to tell him everything.
I took a deep breath, trying to lessen the anxious energy that coursed through me. My hands nervously played with the fringes of the throw that laid next to me on the couch. Brandon eyed me nervously, patiently waiting for me to say something.
“So, do you remember when you called me last April on my birthday? It was after you came back from your business trip in Cancun.”
“Yeah, of course,” he said with a nod. “What about it?”
“You had mentioned that you met a girl there. You said she was sweet and silly, and you thought there was something there.”
“I told you that?”
“Yes, you did,” I paused before continuing. “Well, I knew just by the way you talked about her that she was something special, different from the other girls you’ve mentioned before.” I felt the familiar ache in my chest at the memory.
“Oh,” he said slowly. I could see his thoughts racing to her, remembering his time with her in Cancun.
“I was jealous, and … I was afraid to lose you …” my voice trailed off.
“Des, what are you trying to tell me?” He looked at me nervously.
“When my dad passed away this summer, I felt like I had lost everything. I felt like I had lost everyone who loved me. I just couldn’t bear the idea that I was losing you too.” I quickly brushed away a tear that rolled down my cheek.
“Okay,” he said anxiously.
“When I called you that night after his funeral, I was in a bad place. I felt self-destructive and got really drunk.”
“Yeah, I remember. You were a mess,” he said sympathetically.
I sighed. “Yeah, I was. Well, I bought a pill off someone to numb the pain, a pill to help me black out. …” I looked up at him and saw the worry in his eyes.
“Des, you can’t do that to yourself,” he said.
“I know. I was very grateful that I had the sense to call you before I took the pill and hurt myself. You rescued me that night. You were gentle and loving, and … and in my drunken state, I wanted you back. I wanted you to love me the way you had before—the way no one else has since. I … I slipped you the pill instead.” I looked away from him in shame.
“What?” Shock covered Brandon’s face as he processed what I just said. “Des! What are you saying? What kind of pill did you give me? How come I don’t remember this?” he asked me incredulously.
“I roofied you,” I admitted softly.
“You what?” his voice was sharp, causing me to flinch.
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t in a good place and I was drunk.”
“Des, that’s not an excuse!”
“I know. I know. But while you were taking care of me, I convinced myself that it was a good idea to roofie you and to get you to sleep with me. I … I thought that once we made love, you would realize how much you actually still loved me. I thought we would be able to rekindle our relationship, and be happy again. … I wanted desperately to be happy again.” My voice was shaky and tears streamed down my face.
“Fuck. I don’t believe it,” he said in a whisper. “You’re pregnant because you roofied me?” his voice increasing in volume. “How could you, Des?” There was no anger in his voice, only disappointment and disbelief. This tore at my heart. I knew I had lost him forever—not just his love, but his friendship.
“There’s more,” I whispered.
“What more can there be?” His eyes became more alert as he waited for me to continue.
“We … we didn’t have sex that night.”
“What?” His voice was loud and harsh, and I flinched. “But—”
“When I roofied you, you blacked out pretty quickly. I undressed you and got you to your bed. But … but when I tried to get you hard, it didn’t work.” I felt ashamed of myself.
I saw Brandon’s mouth open and close a few times as he tried to say something. Finally, he asked, “Why didn’t you say something? Why did you let me believe we had sex?”
I looked away in shame. “I don’t know. I think part of me hoped that, even if we didn’t have sex, if you thought we did, you would rethink your feelings for me, and maybe you would realize that you still loved me.”
He remained silent and I could tell he was struggling between a number of emotions. “So … I’m not the father of the baby,” he said as he looked at the bump on my stomach.
My heart was beating violently against my chest. Could he handle yet another confession? I drew in a deep breath and said, “I’m … I’m not pregnant.” I reached behind my back and pulled against the hook that held the belly-support belt and padding against my stomach. Brandon’s eyes went wide with shock as he saw me remove the padding and belt from under my shirt.
“Holy shit,” he muttered as he brushed his hand through his hair in shock.
“I’m so sorry, Brandon. I—”
“Why?” he yelled, cutting me off. “Why, Des?”
Shame washed through me. “I didn’t want to lose you,” I whispered.
“That doesn’t make sense.” He looked at me in disbelief.
“When I dropped by your place a few months ago, I was in town and wanted to surprise you. I was also hoping that we could spend some time together. But when I saw Emma at the door wearing nothing but your shirt and boxers, I was in shock. I don’t know what came over me, but I blurted out that you were my boyfriend. And once she ran off, I realized there was no turning back. I didn’t want to tell you what I said to her. I didn’t want you to look at me like you’re looking at me now.”
There was a moment of silence before Brandon finally spoke. “How long were you planning on holding onto this lie, Des? What were you going to do when nine months passed and you had no baby to show for?”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead at the time. I … I thought that maybe you would fall back in love with me, and then I could say that I lost the child,” I murmured.
“That’s just nuts, Des.” Brandon shook his head as he tried to take everything in.
“I’m so sorry, Brandon. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I’m … I’m just sorry. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but I know I did.”
He remained silent at my words, whether it was in shock or in deep thought, I couldn’t tell.
“Please say something!” I begged. “Please yell at me! Please talk to me!”
The Day to Remember (Emma's Story) Page 10
