The Day to Remember (Emma's Story)

by Wood, Jessica

  “I can’t really look at you right now, Des. I trusted you! I believed everything you had told me. We have known you for over 11 years, and we’ve been through so much together. I didn’t think I needed to question anything you said because it was you—the one person who has been there for me at my darkest days.”

  “I know. I didn’t want to lie to you. I shouldn’t have …”

  “I—I don’t know what to think or say right now. I don’t know who you are anymore!”

  “I’m still the same person,” I cried. “I just made a huge mistake.”

  “I don’t know, Des. I’m so angry at you. Do you know how much drama you’ve caused?” I heard the pain in his voice, and my heart ached. He was the last person I wanted to disappoint and upset. The last person I wanted to hurt.

  “I’m really sorry,” I whispered.

  Suddenly, something changed in his expression. “I can’t do this right now,” he said with a flash of urgency. “I need to go.”

  “Go?”

  “Yes. I need to find Emma. I need to tell her everything. I need to tell her everything before she falls for…” His voice trailed off. I felt a stab in my heart when I heard him say her name. His thoughts always go to her.

  Without another word, Brandon ran out the door, leaving me sitting in his condo. I knew that I had lost him forever. I knew that I was again alone.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Emma

  “What do you mean you’ve met Des before?” Shock roared through me as we got to my apartment. I had broken my heel when my shoe got stuck in the pavement, so we had walked to my place a few blocks away so I could switch shoes.

  “Yeah, I’ve seen her at the bar once,” Damian said.

  “How come you didn’t tell me?” I looked at him with disbelief.

  “Shit, Emma. Chill. I didn’t know her name. And even if I did, how the hell would I know it’s the same Desiree you’ve been telling me about?”

  “Oh. Right. Sorry,” I looked at him sheepishly. “Sorry, that woman just seems to have a way of getting under my skin.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, I can see that.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to lash out at you.”

  “It’s cool. No sweat,” he said coolly.

  “What was she doing at the bar?” I asked. Despite the fact that it pained me to think about Desiree, the masochist in me wanted to know every excruciating detail about this woman.

  Damian laughed. “What do people usually do at a bar? Drink, of course.”

  “Are you sure it was her?” I asked skeptically.

  “Yeah, it was her.”

  “But how can you be sure?”

  “I don’t forget a pretty face, and she’s hot.”

  “Hey!” I hit Damian on the arm.

  “What?” he asked innocently.

  “You’re suppose to be on my side,” I said defensively.

  “Who said anything about sides? I’m a man-whore remember? She’s hot. I’d bang her,” he said matter-of-factly.

  I made a face.

  He laughed. “I offered to bang you too, but you rejected me.” He feigned a frown.

  I rolled my eyes, and then asked, “When did you see her at the bar?” I didn’t understand why Des would be drinking when she was pregnant. And if Damian saw her at the bar before she was pregnant, why was she in SF during that time? From what Brandon had told me, she only recently moved here from L.A.

  “Hmm, I think like a month or so ago, about two weeks before you and your friends were at my bar.”

  “But …” My mind raced as I pieced together the timeline, “that’s when she told Brandon she was pregnant …”

  “Yeah, now that you mention it, that sounds familiar. She came into the bar in the late morning that day when we had just opened. I remembered thinking that it wasn’t the typical time of the day for a girl like her to want to get plastered. She was talking about how her ex was with someone else now. She was upset that he had refused to get back together with her, even after she had told him she was pregnant with his child.”

  I tried to absorb this new information Damian just told me. “She wanted him back,” I whispered to myself. Then I looked at Damian, “She was getting drunk? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. It’s not every day you have a pregnant woman getting drunk at the bar. After she mentioned that she was pregnant, I refused to serve her. She then said she really wasn’t pregnant.”

  I looked at him in disbelief. “She’s not pregnant?” I was shell-shocked by this news. “Are you sure she wasn’t lying about that just to get drunk?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I had asked her how she was going to pull off being pregnant, and she mentioned something about a padded baby bump or something that you can buy.”

  “It’s fake,” I whispered as my thoughts raced at the news and what this all meant.

  “Ohmygod, do you know what this means?”

  “Um, that she’s not pregnant?” he asked uncertainly.

  “Yes! It means she’s not pregnant!” I yelled excitedly.

  He laughed. “But I’ve just told you that.”

  “I know. It didn’t sink in when you said it. She’s not pregnant!” I squealed. “Damian, thank you thank you! I got to go!” I cried out as I put on a pair of flats and ran out of my apartment.

  “What? I thought we’re going shopping?” Damian yelled after me.

  “Sorry! Rain check! Call you later!”

  I needed to see Brandon now. I needed to tell him this in person. If this was all true, then we can be together again. I felt an overwhelming rush of joy at that thought. Maybe I haven’t lost Brandon forever after all.

  ***

  Ten minutes later, I was taking the elevator up to Brandon’s condo on the penthouse floor of his building. Anxiety and delirious giddiness built inside me during the cab ride over. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say to Brandon, but I knew I wanted to see him. I knew I wanted to tell him how much I’ve missed him, how much I still loved him.

  When the elevator doors opened, I rushed to his door and pressed the buzzer.

  No answer.

  I pressed it again.

  Nothing.

  I pulled out my phone and decided to call him. I felt an irresistible pull towards him, a desperate need to connect with him in some form. Just as I was about to pull up his number, my phone started peeping. It was Brandon!

  “Hello? Brandon?” I said breathlessly into my phone.

  “Emma. Where you are?” His voice was rush, full of life and urgency.

  “Um. I was actually going to ask you the same thing,” I laughed.

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah! I’m … I’m at your place,” I admitted.

  “You are? Why?”

  “I needed to talk to you. Where are you?” I asked.

  He laughed. “This is going to sound crazy, but I’m at your place. I called you because you didn’t answer your intercom buzzer.”

  “Oh, really?” I felt a surge of happiness overwhelm me.

  “Yeah. Stay where you are! I’ll be right over, okay?” he said in a rush.

  “Okay!” I exclaimed.

  I hung up the phone and squealed with excitement. Did he know something too? Why else was he over at my place?

  “I was going to see him,” I said out loud. As I impatiently waited for him to arrive, I thought about what I wanted to say, how I wanted to tell him.

  As I paced up and down the empty hallway, I began to feel hot. As I took off my trench coat, somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered something Brandon had once said to me: “You’re the only person I would want showing up unannounced at my place, and preferably in a trench coat and nothing else.”

  I looked at the trench coat in my hands, and giggled. I quickly stripped off all my clothes and put my trench coat back on. I managed to fit all my clothes inside my tote bag when I heard the elevator door ping.

  A surge of excitement flooded through me. He’s here!
>
  He came out of the elevator, and he was alone. When I saw the same deliriously-happy look in his eyes, I knew that he somehow also found out. I dropped my tote bag and ran towards him.

  “You know?” he asked with his arms outstretched to greet me.

  “Yes, I know!” I exclaimed as I jumped into his embrace, my legs hugging his waist as he pulled my face down with his hands and kissed me passionately, our mouths greeting each other like old lovers.

  “God, you have no ideas how much I’ve missed you,” he sighed.

  “I’ve missed you, too,” I cried. “It’s been almost unbearable without you.”

  “What about Damian?” he asked. I heard the jealousy in his voice.

  “He’s just a friend. I lied about being with him so that you could move on. I’m sorry,” I whispered. I leaned down and kissed him tenderly, my arms around his neck as his hands moved up and down my back.

  “How did you find out?” I asked.

  “Des told me.”

  I looked at him in surprise. “Really?” I asked doubtfully. “What did she tell you?”

  “That she’s not pregnant, and we didn’t have sex that night.”

  “What? You guys didn’t have sex?”

  “No, we didn’t. I had blacked out and didn’t remember anything from that night. So when I woke up with her in my bed, I thought we did have sex. She said we did. But today, she told me the truth. We never had sex that night.”

  I heard the relief in his voice, and I felt the same relief melt away any remaining worries I had about whether there was still something between them.

  “How did you find out?” he asked.

  “Coincidentally, through Damian. He’s a bartender at a bar, and he remembered seeing Des there recently. She was drinking and said something about faking a pregnancy.”

  “Wow,” he said. For a moment, I saw a sadness in his eyes.

  “Is she okay?” I asked, wondering what kind of state she must be in to tell Brandon the truth.

  “I’m not sure, but I think so.”

  Brandon smiled at me and asked, “So, does this mean we can finally be together again?” His tone was teasing.

  “Do you really need to ask that question?” I giggled.

  He smiled at me widely. God, I forgot how much those dimples affected me. He looked at me affectionately without saying a word.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing. It’s just so nice to hear you laugh,” he said. “I’ve really missed that.”

  “I’ve really missed this,” I whispered as I pulled him down towards me for another kiss, parting my lips and taking his tongue into my mouth. As our lips moved rhythmically together, he lifted me up from the ground and moved me towards his door.

  As we moved, the front of my trench coat shifted to the side, revealing my left breast. Brandon inhaled sharply and looked at me, his eyes were ablaze with lust. “You’re naked.” His voice was ragged, and I knew I wanted him now.

  I gave him a seductive smile as I pulled his body closer against me, “Weren’t you the one who said that if I ever show up unannounced, you’d prefer me to be in a trench coat and nothing else?”

  “There’s nothing under there?” he asked. “God, you’re driving me crazy,” he growled as he fumbled for his keys from his pocket.

  I shook my head as the insatiable need for him overtook me. “No, I need you now.”

  “Let’s me get this door.” I can hear the hunger in his voice.

  “Fuck the door,” I gasped. “We’re on the penthouse floor. You’re the only unit on this floor.”

  Before he could respond, I removed my trench coat, dropping it to the floor, and started grinding my naked body against him. He immediately gave in, and in a blink of an eye, he had me pinned against the wall, anchoring my hands together above my head with one hand. I gasped as his mouth circled the center of my breast, licking and flicking his tongue around my nipples. I curled my right leg around him and pulled him against me, feeling his erection dig into me through his jeans.

  “God, Emma. You’re pushing me to the edge,” he groaned.

  “Good,” I whispered. “Let me undress you,” I purred.

  He released his stronghold on my hands. I pulled his body around, moving his back against the wall. I gave him a wicked smile and whispered, “My turn.”

  As I unbuttoned his jeans, I leaned into him and kissed him violently, biting his lower lip and smoothing each bite with my tongue. I unzipped his jeans and my hands moved inside his boxers. I inhaled sharply when I found him. He was rock hard and ready. I looked at him and saw my frenzy reflected in the gleam in his eyes.

  “I want to taste you,” I whispered as I pulled his jeans down, his erection sprung out from inside his boxers to greet me.

  I traced the outline of his manhood lightly with my fingertips, looking up at him to see his reactions. Without warning, I wrapped my hands around him and moved up and down his length, causing him to throw back his head in pleasure. As his eyes were closed, I took him into my mouth, catching him by surprise. His body spasm and he groaned in the throes of pleasure. He was soft, hard, and long. I looked up at him as my mouth slowly and laboriously explored the entire length of him. His eyes glowed and smoldered with pleasure. I knew he wanted me to go faster, but I didn’t. I wanted to tease him a little longer. I wanted him to want me more. I wanted him to come harder.

  “My God, you feel so fucking incredible.” His voice was strained as he jerked each time I reached the base of his erection. “I can’t hold on much longer,” he groaned.

  I looked up at him and gave him a sinful smile, “How would you like to come?”

  “That’s easy,” he said with a ragged voice as he pulled me up from the ground and pressed my body hard against his. “Inside you.”

  We lowered ourselves on the lush carpeted floor and he climbed on top of me. I stopped him.

  “No,” I resisted. “I want to be on top,” I purred. I wanted to be in control this time.

  His eyes were filled with molten intensity as he laid on his back and looked up at me. I felt all the blood rushing down between my legs as I straddled him. A need built inside of me as I felt his manhood against my wet, sensitive skin. His hands reached out and massaged with my breast, causing moans to escape my lips.

  “God, I could never get tired of this view,” he said as he admired my naked body on top of him. “Move for me, baby.”

  I moved my hips against his erection in slow, long sweeping movements, never allowing him to enter me.

  “You’re such a tease,” he groaned as he moved his pelvis against me. A moan escaped my lips as I felt his erection hard against my inner thigh. My body throbbed in anticipation of him inside me.

  Finally, I guided his entire length deep inside me in one slow and hungry thrust. My back arched in pleasure as I felt my body expand for him.

  “Fuck, Emma. You feel incredible. I can’t take this anymore,” he growled. I gasped when his hands griped tightly around my hips and he pounded upwards inside me. First slow, but with each thrust, he drove into me deeper and harder. My hips rocked against him as he moved me in time with his up-thrusts.

  Then, before I registered what happened, he flipped me around and I was on my back. “Let me take the reins, baby,” he growled. I arched my hips up against him, begging for him to move deeper inside me. He gave me a lust-filled smile as he pounded himself inside me, causing me to gasp with pleasure.

  It didn’t take long before I felt my inner muscles tightened around his hardness. “I’m about to come,” I gasped. I looked up at him and saw the raw hunger in his eyes. He pounded into me harder until I began to spasm. I dug my nails into his muscular back as he entered me one last time before he began to convulse inside me. As if in response to him, my body began to shake uncontrollably as I reached the peak of ecstasy, and as I screamed his name in pleasure, my whole body was consumed with ecstasy as we crash together into the abyss.

  In the afterglow, I sighed
with contentment. I finally had Brandon in my arms and inside me, where he belonged.

  As my breathing slowed our rendezvous with ecstasy, I looked deviously at Brandon. “Let’s do it again,” I purred. “Maybe somewhere a little more comfortable ... and private this time.”

  “Baby, you read my mind,” he groaned. He got up and picked me up from the floor and carried me into his condo.

  And for the rest of the day, we stayed in his bed, and we made love.

  Not once, not twice, but three earthshattering times.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Six Months Later

  Brandon

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” asked Emma warily.

  I quickly glanced from the road to her as I took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “Stop worrying, babe. Of course I want to meet your mom. We’ve been dating for over six months now. You can’t hide me from her forever?” I joked.

  “I’m know. Sorry, I’m just nervous. I’ve never brought a guy home to see her before, and ...” Her voice trailed off.

  “Emma, it’ll be fine,” I reassured her. “I’m sure she’ll love me,” I teased.

  She giggled nervously, “That’s pretty cocky of you, Mr. Fisher.”

  “Well, you know me,” I played along, giving her a wink and a wide smile. “Women love me.”

  She smacked my shoulder, “Hey!”

  I chuckled, “Sorry, sorry. Low blow. You know I didn’t mean that,” I said apologetically. “I ... I know you’re nervous about this, and I just wanted to lighten things up. I—”

  “I know,” she interrupted. “I just want things to go well today.”

  “And it will,” I reassured her. I knew why Emma was nervous, and I was nervous too. From what I knew about Emma’s mom’s past, I had a feeling she didn’t put a great deal of trust with men. I needed her mom to like me and approve of my relationship with Emma. It was important to Emma, and it was important to me.

  I wanted this weekend to go perfectly. It was Friday night after work and we were going to Emma’s mom’s house in Sacramento for dinner. Tomorrow, we were heading up to Napa Valley for the rest of the weekend. We were staying at a villa my family owned, and I have been planning this special weekend for a while now. Because this weekend, I was going to ask Emma to marry me.