by S. H. Kolee
"Hi, Drew, it's good to see you again," I replied, straightening as I took Drew's outstretched hand in mine. Despite being about forty now, Drew didn't look much different from when we had both been at Mass Comm.
"Celeste mentioned that you were working at Forrester now. Let me know if you ever need anything." Drew's smile was genuine and his hand was warm and firm in mine. I felt a little jolt when we touched, realizing that I was acutely aware of him as a man. I laughed to cover up my awkwardness.
"Thanks, Drew. I have a feeling I'll be taking you up on that offer."
"Anytime." Drew continued smiling as he gazed at me and I became aware that his hand was still grasping mine. I pulled away gently, relieved when his hand released mine. I felt confused, not sure if I was misreading his look of interest.
"Do you need anything before I leave for the day?" Celeste asked, startling me. I hadn't heard her walking up behind me.
Drew shook his head. "No, have a great weekend." He turned back to me, now looking just merely friendly. "You too, Emma."
He walked past us down the hall and I watched silently as Celeste grabbed her purse and shut down her computer. "Let's go."
Celeste and I went to a lounge around the corner from the office and settled into a table, ordering drinks. Celeste ordered a fruity cocktail with an umbrella and I settled for my usual vodka tonic.
"How was your first week? You got lucky with Marie. She's one of the assistants that actually knows what she's doing at Forrester."
"It's been really good," I said, taking a sip of my drink. "Good, but busy. And you're right, Marie is a gem. I really lucked out with her. At this point, she's teaching me more than I'm teaching her."
Celeste was easy to spend time with, making me laugh often and loudly. She regaled me of tales about her family and I felt the stress of the work week melting away. Even though she probed into my love life, there wasn't much to tell. She knew that I had gone through a bad break-up with Jackson five years ago, but luckily, she had never realized that the man I had been involved with was Jackson Reynard, movie star. I didn't think she could handle the excitement of it so I never disclosed it to her.
I was curious about what my old boss, Janet, was up to and Celeste informed me that she was now a partner at an advertising agency. I was happy to hear that she was doing well, holding no ill regard towards her. She didn't have much of a choice when I ruined her presentation, although to this day I still didn't understood how the fiasco had happened.
The one drink turned into several before the night was over. By the time I stepped out of the cab in front of my building, I was feeling buzzed and happy.
"Hi, Harry," I called out as I passed my doorman.
"Good evening, Ms. Mills," he replied, nodding.
"Emma. Remember, it's Emma," I said with a wave of my hand.
"Have a good night, Emma," he rephrased with a smile.
It was a relief to kick off my heels once I got inside my apartment. I was about to change when I heard my apartment phone ring, the shrill rhythm of the rings signaling that it was Harry. I frowned as I answered it, wondering what he could want since I had just passed him.
"Harry?"
"Emma, you have a guest. Jack Reynolds."
I froze, knowing full well that Jack Reynolds must be Jackson. I had no idea how Jackson knew where I lived and I had no desire to see him, but I didn't know if I had the courage to turn him away.
"Emma, should I send him up?"
I scrambled for a reply, but before I could answer, I heard Jackson's voice.
"I don't want to make a scene down here, Emma, but I will if I have to. And I don't care who takes pictures while I do it, so you'd best let me up."
"Emma?" It was Harry again, and he sounded concerned, clearly having heard Jackson. "I can send him away. Don't worry if you don't want to let him up. I'll take care of it."
I released the breath I had been holding, anxiety making my happy buzz vanish. I felt stone cold sober. The last thing I wanted was more coverage about Jackson Reynard's mystery woman, and I wasn't willing to call his bluff about making a scene.
"It's okay, Harry. He's just an old friend that I got into an argument with. You can let him up."
I paced my living room nervously as I waited for Jackson's arrival, trying to steady my pulse as I told myself that I could handle this. I was glad that I was still in my work clothes. I felt much less vulnerable than if I had been in a pair of shorts and t-shirt, my usual outfit when I was at home. I couldn't help but check my appearance in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed with alcohol and anticipation and I smoothed my hair, not wanting to examine why I wanted to look my best in front of Jackson.
I jumped when my doorbell rang and waited a beat before I walked over to answer it. When I opened my door, my insides clenched. Even though Jackson was wearing a baseball cap low on his head with jeans and a worn t-shirt, it wasn't enough to mask his dazzling good looks.
"Are we going to just stand here like this all night?"
His sardonic words jolted me out of my reverie and I narrowed my eyes. "What are you doing here? How do you know where I live?"
Jackson sighed and folded his arms across his chest. "Do you really want to do this out here where your neighbors can hear everything?"
I glared at him but opened the door wider and stepped back, letting him in.
"You have five minutes," I said as he walked in. "Then you have to leave."
Jackson didn't answer me as he looked around my apartment. I saw it through his eyes and thought it was probably laughable to him. For a big star like Jackson, my apartment probably looked dinky and underwhelming. It fueled my anger and when I saw him pick up a picture of my father on my bookshelf, I stalked over and snatched it out of his hands.
"Five minutes," I said through gritted teeth.
Jackson didn't seem affected by my demand and simply looked down at me, but I couldn't read his expression, his eyes shadowed by the bill of his cap.
"Aren't you going to offer me anything to drink?" he asked, finally breaking the silence.
"Jackson, I don't know what games you're trying to play. I don't know why you're here, but I don't have time for this. Either say whatever it is you're here to say or leave."
"You're different," he said flatly. "Where's the Emma that was full of life? You used to get ridiculously happy over the simplest things. Remember when I won that plastic bracelet for you at Coney Island and you fell all over yourself, acting like I had just given you the crown jewels?"
I pressed my lips together, pushing the memory aside. I didn't want to think about the good times, the moments of pure happiness that had made me believe life was beautiful. Those memories were now tainted with Jackson's betrayal.
"Are you here to wax nostalgic? If so, you might as well leave."
Jackson's mouth twisted in return. "Fine. I just came here to get some facts straight. Did you marry Sean?"
I sighed in frustration. "I already told you I've never been married. To Sean or anybody else. Not that it matters."
Jackson took his cap off and shoved his hand through his hair, looking confused. Now that I had an unadulterated view of his face, I tensed even more. I was warring against a tide of sadness and regret, reminding myself that our relationship had been a sham.
"I don't understand," Jackson said, shaking his head. "I thought you and Sean got married."
"Now you know that we didn't," I said, speaking slowly as if I were talking to someone who was slow to understand. "Is that all?"
Jackson grimaced, his green eyes piercing into me. "If I had known..."
"If you had known, then what?" I countered when he faltered. "I told you that we didn't belong together." I didn't bring up the fact that I had called a week later to beg for Jackson's forgiveness and for him to take me back. My pride wouldn't let me revisit that moment, even though I knew Jackson was well aware of it. The moment where I realized that Jackson had betrayed me.
Jackson breathed in
deeply, watching me uncertainly. "I guess nothing. If you really thought we didn't belong together, I guess I didn't have a chance. I just - when I heard that you were married, it made everything final. Claire thought-"
"Didn't I tell you not to mention her name?" I spat out. "I don't want to talk about her. In fact, I don't want to talk to you at all. Get out!"
Jackson grabbed my arms roughly, pulling me towards him and making my head fall back as he shook me. "Why do you get so upset when I mention her name?" he demanded.
I laughed humorlessly, feeling as if my heart were breaking again. "I'm sorry, am I supposed to feel kindly towards the bitch you slept with?"
Jackson froze, his expression guilty, and I realized he still had the power to hurt me. Even though I knew he had cheated on me with Claire, the confirmation on his face killed me. I knew that I could never forgive him. It was more than his sleeping with Claire. It was because he had made me believe in a dizzying love that had been false. He had made me believe in soul mates and happily ever after, only to snatch that happiness away.
"How do you know?" he whispered, his voice sounding strained. "How did you find out?"
I pulled out of his grasp and sneered at him, trying to mask the wound that had been ripped open anew. "How do you think? Or is it not important enough for you to remember? She told me herself."
Jackson steeled his expression, the panic in his eyes vanishing behind a mask of coldness. "You can't really blame me, can you? You were the one to reject me."
A haze of fury rose in me and I felt myself start to shake. All the pain and anguish I had buried for years erupted, fueled by his indifferent attitude.
"You bastard," I yelled, striking him with my fists. "I trusted you! I gave you fucking everything and you threw it away! Were you laughing at me? Were the two of you laughing at me behind my back while you fucked each other?!"
I didn't care that I was openly sobbing as I frantically beat against his chest. All reason left me and I was just left with raw emotion. I felt like a wild animal that had been hurt and was expending my last bit of strength to retaliate.
"Stop it!" Jackson grabbed my wrists in a vise-like grip, stopping my assault on him. His expression was like ice, at odds with the pain I saw in his eyes. I was heaving with emotion, trapped by his grasp as sanity came back. I was disgusted that I had let myself be so affected by him.
"Let me go," I said in a low voice, unable to break free from his iron grip. Jackson tentatively let go of my wrists and instead of continuing my assault, I stepped back, needing to get some space between us.
"Why are you here, Jackson?" I continued in an emotionless voice. "What possible reason could you have to be here? What's the point of revisiting the past?"
"It's because I need to know the truth," Jackson replied, his face hard. "Don't I deserve it?"
I laughed mirthlessly. "Do you? All that matters is the truth now. And the truth now is that I never want to see you again."
Jackson stepped towards me, his face flashing with anger. "Just answer my questions and I'll be gone from your life forever. I have my own life to get back to. I just want to put this to rest."
I scrubbed my face with my hands, feeling exhausted from the intense emotions that had gone through me. I just felt resigned now, so I nodded my head. "Fine. Anything to make you leave."
Jackson's eyes flared at my statement but he spoke in an even voice. "Were you telling me the truth when you told me that you wanted to be with Sean?"
The importance of this question confused me. I didn't understand why it mattered, especially since he had been screwing Claire the entire time we had been together. And the fact that I had called a week later to beg him to take me back should have been indication enough. I paused, not sure how to answer his question.
"You said you would answer my questions," Jackson demanded, his face tense as if my answer was of paramount importance.
"No, it was just an excuse. I felt too guilty. Guilty about Sean's condition that I had caused. Guilty about you giving up your opportunity. I thought it was best for everyone involved if I lied," I answered flatly. "Next question."
I wasn't prepared for Jackson's reaction. His mask slipped and his face was ravaged with pain. "Why, Emma. Why did you do it? You were my life. I would have given up everything for you."
"That was the problem," I said dully. "I didn't want you to give up everything for me." I didn't mention his betrayal. I didn't think I could take his matter-of-fact attitude about it again.
"What happened with Sean?" Jackson's face was remote again, the pain I had seen earlier having vanished.
"He got better through a lot of rehabilitation. He can walk, although he'll always have to use a cane."
"You never thought about starting again with him?"
I shook my head, wanting this conversation to be over. "No. He and my best friend fell in love and got married."
"You mean Trisha?"
I was surprised that Jackson remembered her name, but I just nodded. He stalked away from me, his back towards me as he stared out the window of my living room. I didn't know what to do so I just stayed silent.
When he finally turned back to me, he looked lost. "All these years I thought you were with Sean."
"Does it matter?" I asked sadly. Jackson walked towards me and I tensed when he gently grasped my cheek with one hand, lifting my head up to look at him.
"Of course it matters," he said softly. "If I had the slightest inkling that you wanted to be with me, that you didn't want to be with Sean, I wouldn't have let anything get between us." He hesitated before continuing. "The thing with Claire-"
"Stop," I said, my voice trembling. "Please, just stop. I can't talk about what you did with Claire. I realized long after we broke up that we weren't right for each other. I was young and naive. I'm not that person anymore. You said it yourself. I've changed."
"But I haven't," Jackson whispered, lowering his head. "I still want you."
My mind reeled when Jackson's lips touched mine. I wanted to push him away but I couldn't seem to control my body's reaction to him. Instead of being tentative, his kiss was demanding as his lips slanted over mine, insisting on a reaction. And my traitorous body gave it to him. My mouth opened, admitting him entry inside, and his tongue immediately entered, stroking mine frantically. I felt a desperation in both of us as Jackson pushed me against the wall, pressing his body against mine, his erection rock hard. Our kiss was wild and I felt out of control, but I couldn't seem to put a stop to it.
His hands seemed to be everywhere and I was vaguely aware of them at the front of my shirt, hearing buttons pop and roll on the floor as he ripped my blouse open. Our lovemaking had been intense in the past, but there was now a violence in his urgency that I had never felt before. He roughly pushed up my bra and broke our kiss, moving his head down to draw a nipple into his mouth, sucking painfully hard as his hands lowered to my belt, scrambling to unbuckle it.
I couldn't deny the pleasure I felt, my body hungering for his. But I was also frightened by the savagery of his touch. I didn't know this man that seemed intent on consuming me.
"Jackson, stop!" I pushed his hands from my belt, shocked when his hands slammed mine against the wall, imprisoning them while he continued his assault on my nipple. He then moved to the other nipple, suckling hard, and I watched him immobilized, not knowing what to do.
"You're hurting me," I finally whispered, even though a part of me wanted him to continue his rough treatment of my breasts. I couldn't deny the pool of wetness that was between my legs.
Jackson froze at my words and then released my nipple, lifting his head. His eyes looked wild as he stared at me, his gaze unfocused. He closed his eyes and took a deep uneven breath. He looked ashamed when he opened his eyes again, his gaze traveling down my body. The tips of my breasts were red and abraded from his mouth and my wrists were still trapped against the wall by his hands.
He stepped back, releasing my hands, and I hurriedly pushed
my bra down and pulled together the edges of my gaping blouse. I looked down at the loose buttons on the floor, not knowing what to say.
"I'm sorry," he choked out. "I'm sorry, Emma."
I didn't look up as I heard him walk out and slam the door behind him. I couldn't move for a while as I just sagged against the wall, unable to believe what had just happened.
When I was finally able to move, I slowly made my way to my bedroom, feeling as if I were in a dream. I threw my ruined blouse in the trashcan and quickly shed the rest of my clothes, pulling on shorts and a t-shirt. My nipples were sore from Jackson's harsh treatment as they brushed against my t-shirt. But instead of angering me, the constant reminder was insidiously arousing. My fear had stopped Jackson, but I realized I was more afraid of what Jackson re-entering my life could do to me.
I couldn't stop thinking about him that night as I tried to sleep. I didn't think about what it meant when I got up and rummaged in my jewelry box, taking out the diamond pendant Jackson had once given me with love in his eyes. I didn't ponder the consequences of my emotional state of mind when I clasped it around my neck before returning to bed. I didn't make excuses when my hands drifted down underneath the waistband of my shorts, beneath my panties. I just wanted to feel. My fingers found my cleft slick with arousal and I imagined Jackson's mouth between my legs, suckling on my tight bud. One hand drifted back up to my nipples that were extra sensitized by their soreness. My hand was wet with my arousal and I imagined it was Jackson's mouth as my other hand rubbed my clit faster and faster, my hips rising from the bed as I felt tension mounting. I didn't hold back my cries when I found my release, calling out Jackson's name. I spent the rest of the night pretending that he was beside me, loving me.
Chapter Fifteen
