The Way Home

by Simpson, Stefanie

  “What do you want?”

  “You. For you to forgive me.”

  “Ah.” She nodded and sucked a breath and slowly let it out. “Sucks for you then.” She offered him a trite smile and went back in. Em went to her table and sat.

  “Are you all right?” one of the girls asked.

  “Fuck. No.” She scrubbed her face of makeup and tried to make her brain work again.

  She put her hand over her mouth to stem the sobs that would come; allowing herself to feel the pain now he was here to catch her.

  His voice had faltered when he spoke, and the pain in his eyes was the same as hers. She couldn’t hold it back, and she cried, and then he was there, right by her side. She wondered if it was real.

  He picked her up, but she didn’t look at him or hold onto him, he was carrying her somewhere, but she didn’t care, all that mattered was that she was in his arms.

  They were in the small cold props room. They sat on a little couch and held her to his chest as she sobbed. She was curled up, hand fisting his shirt, and he smoothed her hair and kissed it.

  She went quiet and still, she was so tired, and her eyes closed.

  “Em, I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot.” She shivered and tried to wipe her face. He took off his jacket and put it on her. It buried her, but the satin lining was warm, and it smelt of him.

  He shifted her so that she faced him. She was miserable.

  “I was so wrong. I never really thought you had been with anyone. It was just hard to see. You’re with me and seeing other men with you like that, made me so angry. I fucked up again, and I want to ask for your forgiveness, to let me try to make it up to you. I’ll understand if you can’t. I don’t expect it to be at once, but I’d like to try, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “You made me feel like I was a piece of shit. I’d come so far, but you just undid it. I'm not sure if I should give someone that power over me again. I don’t think I’m strong enough.”

  He swallowed. “We said we would support each other, that we would forgive each other. I’m asking you to do that.”

  “I don’t know anymore. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

  “I saw you dance, and I know what you feel because you showed me. I saw your tears, your pain, and my betrayal. I saw how you hate what this makes you, how you have fought against it.” His voice was thick. “I know you like no one else, I know who you are, who you pretend to be for others. Em, who you are in your heart is everything that I want, and you love her too, you can be her with me.”

  She set her jaw when she looked at him. He had tears in his eyes. His hands held her face, and she pulled them away. He slumped, defeated.

  “Are you staying here?” his voice was barely a whisper.

  “No. I hate this now. I need to go home.”

  “And us?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Em, please, please, I love you, I need you, I miss you so much, and I’m so sorry. Let me try.”

  “I need to think about it.”

  He couldn’t read her, and she was shuttered. She took off his jacket and handed it back to him as she stood, and he followed her to the dressing room door.

  “I’m not letting you go without a fight. I won’t.”

  “Perhaps then, you shouldn’t have thrown me away so hastily, like you always do. Sometimes it’s not worth the pain.”

  “You don’t think what we have is worth it?”

  “Christmas, I would have said yes. Now, though, I can’t feel anything anymore. That was the first time I’ve cried. I’ve been carrying so much responsibility, so much worry; it’s like when dad was ill. They’re all the same feelings, the same pain, and I thought that through it I’d have you, your love, your support, and the things you promised me. But instead, you made me feel cheap and disgusting. You should go, I have to get up early, and I want to go.”

  She went in the dressing room with the security guard watching Ryan. The crowd had gone, and people were leaving. She was right, about all of it. If he left it would prove her right; he had to be there for her, even if she hated him, she had clung to him, and trusted in his support, even when she was sobbing.

  He wasn’t going anywhere, not yet. He’d let her see he was serious, and hope she changed her mind, but wouldn’t crowd her, well, he’d try.

  She was wearing a parka and sweats when she came out. The others were off for a night out.

  “I’ll see you out.”

  She was quiet for a moment and shrugged. “Like I could stop you doing anything you wanted.”

  They were silent in the taxi to Angie’s place. When they pulled up, he took her hand.

  “Em, can I see you tomorrow?”

  Blinking incredulously, she snapped. “I have to see to Angie, wait for Mark - the dickhead - to not fucking well turn up and chase him down and retrieve the boys. Then do some housework, get some shopping in, go to rehearsal, do a show, maybe if I’m lucky, eat, and I might get some sleep.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Nothing. Not your problem.” She slammed the taxi door a little harder than she needed to. The taxi driver looked at Ryan through the rear view mirror, and they made their way back into town.

  Ryan was waiting for her the next night, arms folded on his chest, stern scowl on his face, outside the dressing room door. It was hard not to watch her as she came off stage and down the corridor. She was wearing the peach latex outfit, and after blinking off that vision, he felt her exhaustion.

  “Shit off. Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  Someone wolf whistled at him. “Well, if you don’t want him, I’ll have him.” The others laughed. Ryan didn’t flinch but stared at Em. He was intense, and she saw the want he radiated.

  Em stood on one hip.

  “I spoke with Clara. I’m surprised you persuaded her.”

  “She understands that I love you, and I will fight for you. I know I’m a dick, and will do whatever you need to put this right.” He stepped forward into her personal space. She nodded.

  Even though she was busy, with her time occupied, he was on her mind. He came for her, apologised. Was it that simple? Could she shrug off the hurt, swallow her pride?

  In her bones, she knew it would, what was her life without him? A bag of crap, that’s what.

  He searched her eyes, she was tired, exhausted, he didn’t want to wear her down, he wanted her to choose him because she wanted them to be together, yet at the same time, she needed strength to support her, and he knew he could give that to her.

  “Em, please, let me try, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You said that before, and you left me.”

  “Enough Em, I’m sorry, please, I was wrong. I know it. Let me try. Let me show you.”

  “Fine.” Her defeated made him wince, she nodded her head, and he followed her into the dressing room. He sat in her chair as she pulled her fake eyelashes off, stripping away the veneer, the armour.

  She undressed right in front of him, and he nervously glanced around seeing the others do the same. He swore and cleared his throat, finding the floor and ceiling fascinating.

  She put on a short tight black velvet dress, opaque tights, and very high heels. After a light layer of makeup, she was ready.

  “It’s Saturday night, and I need a drink. The kids are with their dad, seeing as my threats finally paid off, and I’m fucked off enough to get shitfaced. You’re up hot stuff. Show me what you got.”

  She bent over and looked him in the face. He swallowed, and he thought back to when they first kissed. He smiled in her challenge, she was angry, she wanted to push him, fine, he could hold his own.

  “You’re on.” He gave her his best and widest grin.

  Surprised, she raised her brows and tilted her head, shrugged, but nodded. He followed her out, and they went to the pub. Shots were lined up on the bar, all the girls together, a few men with them, and Ryan. T
he music turned up a notch, and the heavy behind the bar smiled at the girls.

  One leant over and kissed him, and he laughed as he served the others.

  “A toast,” the blue haired tattooed fire breather cried. “To Hot Stuff.”

  The women screamed and whistled. Em leant over to Ryan. “You sure you’re up for this?”

  “Bring. It.” He winked as he tapped his glass and downed the shot.

  She couldn’t help but smile. “Okay.” She drank hers.

  Two hours later, Ryan wondered what the fuck had happened, but the pub was spinning, and he was tied to a chair.

  A pretty blonde was straddling his lap, he could see Em in the corner of his vision, a little blurred, swaying a bit.

  His eyes didn’t focus on the woman giving him a lap dance but on Em’s smile. He blinked, Em split into two, and then back to one again.

  He smiled. “Ladies, this is all well and good, but baby,” he looked at the blonde, “my heart belongs to another.”

  Everyone laughed, and she gave a kiss on the cheek, and then slapped him lightly.

  “Em?” he looked pleadingly at her, as he struggled a little, still tied to the chair.

  She laughed and strutted over to him. “Yes?” she asked archly as she straddled his lap. He moaned and felt his dick twitch upward.

  Em undulated and felt him up and down until he swore. She moved over him, rolling, teasing him in a dance to the music. Ryan’s eyes were intense, making her look at him. The look on her face softened his.

  “I love you Em.”

  She hesitated.

  “You can punish me any way you like, do whatever you need, I’m with you, I deserve it.”

  She moved over him, and he moaned, wetting his lips. She pulled back his hair, jerking his head back, and he gritted his teeth.

  “As long as you don’t shut me out, don’t push me away, I’ll do anything.” He moaned. Her mouth hovered over his. Their breaths mingled, but she didn’t move. “My love, don’t leave me alone. Please. I’m yours.”

  Her eyes fluttered, and she put her forehead on his. Someone yelled, “Kiss him.” She smiled, her lips met his, then when her mouth opened, he kissed her with everything he had, he kissed away all his mistakes, gave her everything he had.

  She untied his hands, still kissing him. He held fast to her, picking her up in his arms.

  “Jesus Christ, get a room.” Laughter.

  He growled at her when she pulled away. “Persuade me.” She said it into his mouth, and he put her down and grabbed their coats. She tottered along behind him and flagged a cab. He pulled her back to him and kissed her again when they moved off.

  He pulled her behind him into the hotel he was staying at, if she changed her mind, if she pulled away from him, he’d be devastated.

  “Ryan.” She pulled her hand back, and he stopped, along with his heart.

  He closed his eyes.

  “I can’t feel my hand.”

  He relaxed his grip. She turned to him, her eyes were large, and they looked darker in the dim light.

  “It’s okay.” She gave him a little smile.

  He walked on, he tried to open his door a few times, and she took the card from him and swiped the lock.

  It clicked open as she smiled. They stood in the room, the quiet weighted the moment, thick tension pressing in on them.

  “Em.”

  She cut him off and pulled him down to her. Her hands went under his shirt.

  “Wait, are you sure, perhaps we shouldn’t rush into,” his words slowed as she pulled off her dress, her bra followed, shoes, tights and knickers.

  He fell to his knees with his hands encircling her waist, his breath hot on her skin, humming as he kissed her, his tongue finding its way, and his hands remembering her body.

  He was where he should be, and she came crying out his name, still moaning as he picked her up, and took her to the bed.

  He kissed her body, as he undressed, pushing into her, making her scream out. He stilled, loving her, holding her close.

  He took a deep breath.

  “I’m here now, I’m here.” He moved so slowly as he looked down at her, and ran his thumb over her full, sweet bottom lip. She gave him a little smile, her face flushing as he went, and the tight heat of her was too good to hold back, it had been so long. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her feet urged him on.

  She ran her hands through his hair. Her hips lifted up, and he held her tightly as he gained speed as her desperate breaths grew louder. He felt her come as she whispered words to him, begging him, needing him to come inside her, be hers again.

  He tensed, lost to the tense pleasure she gave him as he came. He collapsed in her arms, struggling for breath. She soothed him and held tight.

  She was his.

  Ryan turned over and grunted as the light grew bright, and then he saw her. Her dark, thick hair tangled around her face, a smudge of mascara under one eye. He watched her for a bit as he grinned.

  She stirred and opened her eyes, and the surprise as last night came back to her.

  “What time is it?”

  “Nearly ten.”

  Her contented reflection vanished, and she whirled out of bed, frantically searching for her phone. She cradled it on her shoulder as she frantically dressed. Ryan set about putting his feet on.

  “Ang, you okay?” Ryan went to the bathroom as Em furiously put her tights back on.

  Ryan dressed as Em hung up.

  “Sorry, I’m so tired, and I slept so well, normally I’m there when she gets up.”

  “It’s okay. You need to get back?”

  “No, she says I have to stop mothering her now, she has to start doing things for herself.”

  “Good, coffee?”

  He gave her a warm jumper of his to wear. She sipped the insipid instant coffee. “What are your plans?”

  “They depend on you, how you feel, what you want.”

  She nodded. “Last night.”

  He looked up as she paused. “Do you regret it?”

  “No.” She smiled almost shyly. “I don’t. I think it’s time to go home.”

  He grinned.

  They lazed for a little while on the bed talking and catching up.

  “There’s something I want to do before I go home.”

  “Oh?”

  “I should go and see my mother. I talked a little about her with Portlock, and I keep thinking about her since I’ve been back. I feel like I should at least try to have some sort of relationship with her. It’s been more than a year since I’ve seen her.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?”

  Her frown vanished. “Would you?”

  “I’d do anything for you.”

  She pulled him in for a kiss.

  Eighteen. Settled

  The drive out to Essex went too quickly. Em was nervous and uncomfortable, her heart hammered and she felt sick. Ringing Rosemary Riley made her heart sink, the ten seconds of consideration at the other end of the line was telling enough, and Em knew how it would go.

  They followed the GPS directions as Ryan drove, rather than Em’s directions as her throat had ceased working. As the flat country passed into farmland, and then urban sprawl, Em felt a strange sense of the past, and it came with that hateful creep of unhappiness and disappointment.

  The semi-nostalgic sense of her childhood - not that it had been happy - lapped at the back of her mind. Long forgotten summers of riding her bike in the park, the time when she had friends before she hit puberty, and the rush of humiliation and isolation through it all tempered her memory. As she let herself remember it, she finally understood that she had never really had the love of her mother through it. There were other things there, things that had nothing to do with Em, but were entirely her mother’s problems, and they had become hers, though she couldn’t have named them.

  The dormer bungalow had neatly clipped conifers and an immac
ulate lawn. There was no colour, just greens. It was exactly the same as it had been in her childhood. She eyed the leaded UPVC windows with the same disdain she always had.

  Her mother opened the door after an obnoxious length of time.

  The dated and immaculate house held the same scent, and Em was twelve years old again, crying in the hallway because she got her first period at school.

  Em closed her eyes as her mother’s face held the disappointment it had for most of her life. Rosemary Riley looked waxy and sallow, her grey hair and dour face had only worsened. She looked at Em and Ryan, and with the barest of greetings, welcomed them inside.

  They sat, not in the front room, which was for best, but in the large kitchen at the back. It had dated units with a built in benched table. They sat at the table in silence as her mother made tea. Em offered to help, but it was declined.

  Ryan observed the women in curiosity.

  They looked nothing alike, except that Em had the same colour eyes as her mother.

  “Why are you here, you told me you weren’t coming back.”

  “You said you didn’t want me here, but dad’s dead, and it’s been a long time since we spoke, I thought maybe it was time. Neither of us has been right or wrong, we have only seen it from our own perspective. Can we try?”

  Rosemary was silent, her short fingernails ran up and down the delicate china mug that she held.

  “Emily, you made your choices, you have to live with them.”

  “Which choices?”

  “You chose anyone else but me.” Restrained malice lay in her eyes. “You chose that miserable shit of a boyfriend.”

  Em couldn’t remember hearing her mother swear. She sat back and watched the fury and years of repression spill forth. “Nothing I could say or do could make you see reason. Then you dropped out of sixth form and took up with those sex worker friends of yours. They drew you into their seedy little life, and you became just like them. Then you upped and went to Chadford, and chose your father over me.” Her lips trembled and her waxy face flushed.

  Em didn’t know what to say. Her mother was a selfish and petty woman. She wondered if she had ever understood that she had pushed her away first. Em was calm, she purposefully disengaged her emotion, and Ryan took her hand.