Don't You Remember

by Lana Davison

  “And I love you. I’m just not looking forward to having to explain this to Sean.”

  “I can try and explain it to him. Do you want me to come with you when you speak to him?”

  “No. That would be inappropriate. That would be like me being with you when you tell Eliza? Assuming you’re intending to tell her.”

  “I have to tell her. I think she’s expecting a marriage proposal and instead she’s going to get the complete opposite. I’ll tell her on my own.”

  “When?” I asked curiously trying to work out how much time we had left.

  “She will be back tomorrow evening, but I won’t see her until the next day. When will you tell Sean?”

  “Tomorrow; as soon as possible. Get it over and done with. I feel sick even thinking about it but it’s something I have to do. I owe him that much.”

  “So you love this guy?”

  “Yes I do,” I said stroking Johnny’s cheek. “He’s a good man, the best. He treated me so well and wanted to give me everything, but my heart belongs to you as you well know. We have something going on between us that is so strong, I can’t even begin to describe it.”

  “I know.” He paused deep in thought rolling over onto his back. “I know exactly what you mean.”

  “What are we like?” I said.

  We laughed, cuddled up together and fell back to sleep.

  I woke up confused for one second as my surroundings registered. I turned to look at the body lying next to me and pinched myself, realizing Johnny was actually there and what had happened last night was not a dream. I got up, found the ensuite bathroom and turned the shower on. I looked at myself in the mirror and thought about the day I had ahead and the awful moment when I would have to explain my relationship with Johnny to Sean.

  Under the shower I let the water drop onto my body and began to wash myself and my hair. The shower cubicle filled with steam so I didn’t see Johnny when he approached me. He kissed my shoulder.

  “I’m so glad finding you wasn’t just a dream.”

  “No this is me; I’m right here, right now.” I put my arms around him.

  Like the two teenagers we once were, we were unable to keep our hands off each other, starting our foreplay in the shower, our hearts pumping with adrenaline. We began kissing each other. He picked me up by my thighs and pressed me against the shower cubicle wall. The spontaneity and the passion mixed together equaled explosive lovemaking. My back and neck arched back slightly revealing my full frontal chest to Johnny. While I remained balanced on his perfectly muscled thighs he took one hand and touched both my breasts then manoeuvred his head forward so he could play with my nipples with his tongue. With my nipples fully aroused he took my whole breast in his hand and massaged it as he continued to sex me up. The shower water continued to pound down onto us. He turned me on like a time bomb about to explode at a set time. I howled and moaned knowing my climax was close. Johnny was in sync with me. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

  “OK, OK,” I said, breathing heavily through my words. I pulled and grabbed at his back pushing him in harder, if that was at all possible. He knew where I was and he knew the volcano was about to erupt. “Now… now,” I yelled.

  He pushed me back into the wall holding me there as he came inside me, breathing heavily, breathing through the steam and the heat the two of us seemed to have no trouble making.

  We both sat on the floor of the shower and talked about the day ahead. It had occurred to me that we hadn’t talked about what I was doing these days. I told him I was a writer working for The Times New York. He was impressed but never doubted I’d do something creative and important to me. Still naked, wet and still sitting on the floor with steam and water splashing onto us, he reminded me that being with him would not be easy, what with the paparazzi that continued to following him most days.

  I knew what I was getting myself into. For heaven’s sake, I once dreamed about it and now that dream was a reality. But first I needed to see Sean and Johnny needed to see Eliza. We had to explain everything, and the sooner we did it the sooner we could get on with our lives. I turned the shower off, wrapped a towel around myself while I searched for my clothes from last night. I knew they were in the lounge, where I had left them. I picked up my dress, huffing because it was still wet and then put my underwear back on.

  “Johnny my dress is wet,” I shouted to him as he was still in the bedroom. “Can I borrow a shirt?”

  “Yes, but it will be way too big for you.”

  “I’ve got an idea.”

  “Help yourself,” he stated, showing me his never-ending walk in wardrobe.

  “I would kill for a wardrobe this size,” I said collecting a chambray shirt off a hanger and putting it on.

  “It’s yours then.”

  I laughed thinking no more of it then scanned his wardrobe for something to wrap around my waist finding a long metal chain that might have been used for a performance. I fastened the chain with a loop through key ring from my set of keys still in my little black bag and rolled up the sleeve. I probably looked like a sack of potatoes with a band tied in the middle, but I didn’t overly mind. I was only going to wear this until I got home and change into something from my own wardrobe.

  “Right, I’m done,” I said. “I know it’s nothing fantastic, but it’s the best I can do.”

  “Well, stay then,” Johnny said, approaching me and putting his hands around my waist.

  “I can’t, I’ve got to get home, get changed, I’ll call work and tell them I’m not coming in and I really have to see Sean,” I pleaded with my eyes.

  “OK. What can I do?”

  “Nothing. Actually you could call a taxi.”

  “No I’ll call my security vehicle; they will be here in ten minutes.”

  When I arrived home I got changed into jeans and a t-shirt then phoned work and explained that I wouldn’t be coming in. It was already midday on a Friday and unusual for me to be irresponsible with work. I was your typical workaholic journalist, usually working longer hours through choice, and always handing my work in on time or before deadline. Work didn’t question my intentions but did tell me Sean had left four messages at the office to call him as soon as possible.

  I wasn’t going to call Sean, I needed to talk to him face to face about what had happened last night. I felt awful; he must have been going out of his mind. I called his office but told the receptionist not to put my call through to him; instead I asked if she could leave him a message asking him to meet me at two o’clock in the afternoon at Jaspers, a little café close to his office that we often frequented.

  There weren’t very many people sitting outside at Jaspers, so I ordered two coffees and chose a secluded place away from the majority of customers. I could see Sean in the distance. I felt nervous, awful, even sick, but I told myself I couldn’t escape the inevitable and I owed it to him to be upfront. I would never be anything but upfront, but I had no intention of telling Sean I spent the night with Johnny, even though I had every intention of spending the rest of my days with him. I held a paper cup up above my head in the air as if I was putting up my hand to get noticed. Sean saw me and walked over looking concerned and somewhat stern. Oh boy, the next few minutes would prove to be grim.

  “Hi,” I smiled, trying to make light of the situation.

  “Should I be worried?” were the first words he spoke.

  “Um, come and sit down first because I need to talk to you, I need to tell you something about myself; something about my past that you didn’t know.”

  “You used to sleep with Johnny Cromwell?”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions. There’s a story you need to hear; you need to understand everything before you go judging,” I said as I handed him his coffee.

  “Do I want to know?”

  “Yes, you need to know. It’s important, otherwise you won’t understand what happened last night.”

  “Yes, what did happen last night? Where did you go? Why didn’t yo
u come back?”

  “All your questions will be answered. Can I just tell you my story first?”

  “OK,” he replied, putting his hands up, to indicate he would speak no more.

  “You’re right, I do know Johnny. I’ve known him since I was a little girl. We used to live next door to each other and we were the best of friends. When we grew up we became lovers, even though we were teenagers. We loved each other so much Sean; so, so much. I cannot begin to explain the intensity of our relationship. I took a brief pause to gauge the puzzled look on Sean’s face and carried on. “Johnny is two years older than me, so when he finished school he went off to try and make a life as a musician. He worked hard traveling around the country eventually ending up in New York. We kept in contact via letters and phone calls because there was no such thing as email or mobile phones in those days.”

  “Right,” he said, trying to understand where I was going with this.

  “Right. Well, we both come from families who have a lot of issues, and neither of us could wait to get out of Rushton. Johnny always promised me I could come and join him as soon as I’d finished school and we would make a life together. It was always my intention to be with him. Then one day my house caught fire, my mother was inside and she died and the house burnt to the ground – there was nothing left, absolutely nothing. My father and grandmother decided the best thing to do would be to relocate, so my father and I moved in with my grandmother in Pittsburgh and I started a new life. I left a letter with Johnny’s mother which she swore she gave to him but never did. That letter had all my contact details but I never heard from him. Undeterred, I waited for him to contact me but he never did. I was a little annoyed by his lack of contact but I always gave Johnny the benefit of the doubt and when he became famous I contacted his management company and left my contact details. I told them I knew him and they promised to pass on the message. I called to make sure they did pass on the message and they said they did, but he didn’t do anything about it, because they never passed on the message, Sean. I was devastated, I thought he didn’t care and then my worst nightmare became a reality. Johnny was seen in every teenage tabloid magazine with some new girl on his arm every other week. I couldn’t believe it, I was crushed, hurt beyond repair, but slowly I began to get over him, realizing he wasn’t worth it, but every guy I ever met or have been with since, I have compared with him. He was my first love, he was my everything.”

  “And now?“ he asked, listening to my pleading voice wanting to understand.

  “And last night, you saw Johnny come over and we had those few words. He really made me feel like our break up was my fault and I chased him to give him a piece of my mind. When I caught up with him, I told him as much, but he told me he had been living the last ten years believing I was dead. His mother told him I was dead, instead of giving him the letter I left for him. My previous school told him I died in the fire and his management company never passed on any messages. I believed that if I meant anything to him he would have called me, but he didn’t know I was alive. I believed he had rejected me. What I didn’t know was that he never got any message. It’s a crazy, sad, diabolical cock up of a story.”

  “But why didn’t his mother give him the message? Sean asked, baffled.

  “Because she’s an alcoholic and she didn’t remember I gave her the letter. She’s been like that for years, for as long as I knew her and her memory is useless, completely gone.”

  “I see,” he nodded. “So last night is the first night the two of you have seen each other for ten years?”

  “Yes, well actually a little bit longer than ten years if we’re counting exactly.”

  “I thought he was just trying it on.”

  “He was the love of my life, Sean.”

  “And now?” he looked deep into my eyes and answered the question for himself “And now it’s over between you and me?”

  I looked down at my knees then back up again into his eyes pleading with him to understand the complexity of the situation.

  “I understand,” he said, being brave. “I mean how can I compete with Johnny Cromwell?”

  “Don’t be like that Sean. You can compete with anyone, you’re amazing.”

  “But it’s not enough, is it?”

  “No,” I said softly. “No because if I married you and went to Dubai I would always wonder what would have happened with Johnny and me had I given us a chance.”

  He nodded again. This time he understood. He got up from the table and walked over to me sitting on the other side. “Come here,” he suggested lightly. “If I’m going to say goodbye, I want to do it properly.”

  I got up from my chair and put my arms around the man I loved, but not enough to leave the man I was in love with. “I really do love you,” I said. “Really I do.” I said, reconfirming.

  “I know you do,” he said, being thoughtful and sympathetic. “Now I will always wonder what would have happened had I not taken you to that party last night.”

  I rubbed his back, “Sean, you won’t when you meet someone who defines who you are.”

  “Perhaps I already have, but it’s too late.”

  “Its never too late,” I said.

  Sean kissed me on the forehead, turned and wandered off back in the direction of his office. In some way I was thankful he was leaving New York for a new, demanding, high pressured job; a job he could get his teeth into – essentially a new life to distract him from me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  I spent the night with Johnny again, knowing without question that I was here to stay. My new life would be complicated I knew that for sure, but it would be worth it knowing that I was with the man I was in love with. Nothing would get between us now. Nothing.

  Johnny called Eliza the next night, as soon as she returned from her flight. It wouldn’t have been nice for her had she walked into Johnny’s place with me being there. That would be too cruel and Johnny and I weren’t cruel people. He left me that evening and took his security car to Eliza’s.

  When Johnny arrived at Eliza’s address he got out of the vehicle at the same time as Eliza got out of her limousine. She ran to him wheeling her suitcase behind her. She looked amazing, even after her flight, her long golden hair bouncy, fresh and airborne as she ran towards him. Eliza threw her arms around Johnny and kissed him with force. “I missed you.”

  “Let me take that?” he suggested, taking her bag and wheeling it.

  “You must have something important to tell me because we said we would see each other tomorrow morning,” she beamed with excitement.

  Johnny realized Eliza was referring to a marriage proposal. He had given her every indication to think that was his intention. She was going to be hit with one hell of a hurricane tonight, but he had to do it. He knew it was the right thing to do.

  “Come on, let’s get inside.”

  They entered the building, walking pasted the doorman who knew them both not just as a famous couple, but as someone who frequented the building and bothered with polite conversation from time to time. In the lift, Eliza clapped her hands together with excitement. She knew something big was about to happen and she couldn’t wait to find out.

  Eliza opened her apartment door and insisted Johnny drop the bags and led him to the living room. “I can’t contain myself anymore, you need to do it now, get it over and done with now.”

  “OK. Well, sit down.”

  “You want me to sit down? Shall I sit here?“ she asked, sitting on a wing back chair.

  “Yes, that’s fine.”

  Eliza squealed closing her eyes tight. “I’m ready.”

  “Eliza,” Johnny said calmly. “Open your eyes. It’s not what you think.”

  She opened her eyes and frowned, saddened by his negative words. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I have something to tell you. It’s important and I need you to understand.”

  “What? What is it?“ she asked anxiously.

  “Eliza, do you remem
ber that girl I told you about? The one that I said was the love of my life; the one that I said had died?”

  “Yes,” she nodded nervously.

  “Well, Eliza, I saw her two nights ago. It’s a long story but it seems I was given a whole lot of false information about her. She never died but my mother had me believing otherwise. Even the school she went to got their wires crossed and told me she had died.”

  “OK. But why didn’t she get in contact with you then?”

  “She tried. She left a message with my mother and my mother promised her that the message was passed on to me, but it wasn’t. She contacted my management company and left a message and they never gave it to me because they thought she was some kind of groupie. Given I never got in contact with her she thought success had changed me and I didn’t want her anymore. Then when she saw my photos in magazines with lots of different girls and then you, she was convinced I had moved on.”

  “Why would your mother lie?”

  “My mother’s an alcoholic, always intoxicated. She doesn’t know if she’s Arthur or Martha. She probably believed she gave me the letter; she told Jen she had, but I never got it. Instead, my mother looked out the window intoxicated and told me the house next door had burnt down and that people had died. I tried to find out if that were true but everywhere I turned I kept getting the same answer – Jen had died in the fire. I was heart broken, really heart broken, I felt snapped in two, quite unlike myself for a long time, and then I met you. And you have been wonderful, you’ve helped me in so many ways, but you know more than anyone how scarred I am. You’ve helped mend me. But can you imagine when I saw her? Can you imagine what it was like when we both realized for ten years we have been living our lives with false information which tore us apart? We never wanted to be apart, we wanted to be together forever and we made that promise to each other.”

  “What are you saying, Johnny?” Eliza asked, as tears started to well up in her eyes.

  “Lize, Lize,” he said, taking her in his arms. “Lize, I love you dearly, but you know I have to be with Jen. It wouldn’t be fair on you if I stayed with you always knowing I wanted to be with her. Lize, you’re wonderful, beautiful, talented, funny, smart – you are everything any man could want.”