by L. D. Davis
"If you are going to just propose, why are we doing this?"
"I love you. You love me. We want to be together, and I didn't say I was going to propose."
"What we have isn't togetherness. It's sneakiness," I hissed.
"Well, if you break up with Luke, that will be one less person to worry about."
"Why should I break up with him?" I put my hands on my hips. "Am I supposed to just sit at home alone on the nights you're fucking Jessyca?"
"You have nothing to lose by breaking up with him." He said, and I could hear Kyle the Dick under his tone.
"I would actually lose a lot. He's a good man and cares about me, which is another reason this is so fucked up. He doesn't deserve this."
"Then let him go."
"You're so selfish, Kyle. Maybe I should let you go."
His eyes flashed with anger and he crossed his arms, looking like a real tough guy, but said nothing. He only glared at me.
"And I'm tired of coming to you after being with him, staying up so late. My work - your work - is suffering."
"What do you mean being with him? You're sleeping with him? You told me you weren't."
I bit my bottom lip and watched a young couple a few yards away, holding hands and totally carefree.
"Emmy." He said my name in a way that made me take a startled step back. He was seething with anger and I had not said anything yet.
"I never said I wasn't," I said quietly. "For some stupid reason, you assumed I wasn't sleeping with him and I didn't correct you."
"So if you love me, why would you sleep with him?" That tone again. It was low, but firm, strong, and so infuriated.
"He doesn't know that I have another boyfriend, Kyle. So I can see why he thinks it's okay to sleep with his girlfriend."
"But you know differently." He opened and closed his fists.
I never thought that he was going to hit me, but his anger was unsettling nonetheless. My own anger was about to boil over, though.
"You don't have to make me feel any dirtier than I already feel." Tears threatened to spill out of my eyes.
Stupid tears.
"You're still sleeping with Jessyca, I know you are, and I know you love her. I know it's more than 'just business' like you say. Until you are ready to choose, don't you dare judge me or tell me who I can and cannot see."
I walked away from him.
"Where are you going?" He said from a few feet behind me.
"I'm going home." I glanced over my shoulder at him. "Alone."
"I'm not ready to leave." He said it as if that gave him some kind of control, which made me angrier.
"Stop following me."
"How are you going to get home?" He didn't ask out of concern. He was taunting me.
I stopped and turned around. He almost ran into me.
"I know you think I'm inferior, Kyle, but I'm not incompetent. Dick."
He looked surprised, started to speak, but I walked away. This time he didn't follow.
It was well over an hour before my phone started blowing up. I sent each of his calls straight to voicemail. He texted several times, too, but I didn't answer them either.
I was lucky enough to find a train to Philly. I didn't care if Kyle was angry or worried. We have had disagreements in the past, and once at work when he was in a sour mood, I told him off in front of Eliza. It was a work related situation, but it's not something I would have done before we started our affair.
I refused to cry, even though I had a strong urge to do so. I intended to stay angry so that I could break this shit off. I really did have strong feelings for Kyle but I couldn't continue down this path. It wasn't going to end well for me.
In a cab back in Jersey, I finally answered one of thirty-three of Kyle's text messages (he called forty-seven times, I shit you not. Who does that! ).
I'm in Jerze for now. I don't want to see you or talk to you right now.
Whether or not he answered, I don't know. I turned my phone off. When I got home, I quickly packed a bag and left before Kyle could show up. I couldn't just lock him out since I was stupid enough to give him a key.
Stupid Emmy.
***
"What is that?" Donya pointed at my duffel bag.
I decided that I needed to get a lot of stuff off of my chest. I turned my phone on long enough to again lie to Luke.
Having phone issues. Will call you soon. Xoxo
"I need to stay here for a night, maybe two." I said, walking past her into her house.
"Is your crazy mom in town already? There should be posters up across the county to warn people she's coming."
"It's not my mom, but if it helps you and the rest of the county to know, she will be here the first week of June."
"That's good to know. What are you doing here?" She wasn't being mean. Donya was always straight forward.
"I have proverbial skeletons in my proverbial closet." I said with a heavy sigh.
We sat down on her couch. I propped my feet up on her coffee table and sighed again.
"I'm sleeping with Kyle."
"Your boss? The dick?" She gaped at me. "Shut up!"
"Okay. Reactions like that...not helping."
"I'm sorry, but...damn, Emmy!"
"Not helping!"
"Okay, okay. I will try to contain myself through your story." She stared at me expectantly.
"Okay. It all started the Thursday night before that big storm, in December."
"That far back? Shut up!"
I glared at her. She quickly apologized.
"It started that Thursday, at the bar..."
It took me awhile to sort through the sordid details aloud, and even though D didn't yell "shut up" anymore, she still asked a lot of questions.
"Wow." She said, when I had finished.
"I feel like such a dirty whore," I said, unable to keep the tremble out of my voice. I didn't stop myself from crying this time.
D rubbed my back for a few minutes, letting me cry.
"Emmy, you're not a whore," she said softly. "Whores get paid."
"Kyle's my boss. Technically, he's paying me."
She looked thoughtful. "You're right. You are a dirty whore."
Chapter Nineteen
"I love how Lafayette is always calling someone a bitch." I said, with a mouthful of ice-cream.
Donya was doing homework on the living room floor while I had myself a True Blood marathon.
"Bitch, shut up. I'm doing my homework."
"Sookie's a pussy though. She's always screaming. Stop screaming, bitch!"
Donya gave me a death stare, so I didn't say anymore. She was in her final semester of school, majoring in business. Before starting college three years before, she was a model. Not a small time model, but a world class model. She's modeled for Versace, Oscar De Lorenta, Dior, Dolce and Gabanna, Marc Jacobs, and more. She's been in all of the top magazines and even graced the cover of a few. D has been in movies and on various television shows. She's been all over the world, has met and befriended all sorts of influential people and celebrities. She was the most beautiful person I knew with her long legs, perfect, yet unusual face and chocolate brown skin.
An agent had found her on the boardwalk as she walked beside her ordinary, plain friend (me), eating cotton candy when we were only 15. The agent said she even ate her cotton candy like a model.
I was lucky enough to go with her to Paris, London, or meet her in Italy or Australia, and of course at a few locations in the U.S like Hawaii or L.A. She didn't always have time to actually hang with me, and she was often overwhelmed, stressed out and frazzled or even down right depressed. The designers were hella picky and obnoxious a lot of the time, although they deserve to be. Their fashion was their art and it should be displayed how they wanted it. One time a designer not to be named told her she looked bloated and fat and sent her off of the set. I had felt so bad for her, but she shrugged it off and said it wasn't the worse thing that's been said to her.
On her 28th birthday, Do
nya stopped taking work. She finished any contracts and followed through on prior commitments, but hung up her runway shoes when all was done.
"I want to quit while I'm still good at what I do. I don't want to be a washed up has been." She explained on the phone to me from Japan.
"You lead such a fabulous life, though," I said.
"I lead a lonely life, E. I want to have a somewhat normal life. I want a family, a permanent home and a minivan."
I gasped. "Now you're going too far. A minivan? Unbelievable."
"I knew that would hit you hard. Anyway, I gotta go, but in a few months I will be free and I get to spend more time with you and my family. Girl, I even miss your nutty mama."
"Now I know that job is making you crazy. Call me when you get to India."
That was three years ago. D had earned enough money to take care of herself for a very long time, but she was frugal with it, and still worked part time. She found the man of her dreams, Jerry who happened to be a major league baseball player. They lived well below their means, stayed under the radar, which was admirable. They agreed that when they started having kids, they would buy the big house and big cars. They lived a fairy tale life, like my parents and siblings.
There was a knock at the door. Donya looked at the door as if just by looking at it the person on the other side would go away. When the knock came again, I said "I don't think they can feel your death stare through the door."
She threw down her pencil and got up to open the door. "Get your boots off my table," she told me before opening the door.
I was wearing a black skirt and a pair of Louis Vuitton boots, taken from D's closet. So technically, she wanted her boots off of her table. I wanted to live another day, so I didn't argue the particulars.
"Hi, Donya?" I heard Kyle's voice. I froze with the spoon in my mouth. "I'm Kyle. Is Em here?" He sounded really hopeful.
I was hoping that she would say no and slam the door in his face. Instead she said "How did you get my address?"
"Samantha Grayne."
"Son of a bitch." Donya stomped away from the door, but left it wide open. She snatched her cell off of the coffee table and quickly found the number she was looking for. "Sam! Why are you giving my address out to complete strangers?" She yelled at my mom. "I don't care if he's the pope! I don't know him!"
She walked out of the living room, arguing with my mom like I would. Donya was an extension of my family, so there was nothing disturbing about her behavior towards my mom. If circumstances were different I would have laughed, but as it was, Kyle was standing before me. I still had the stupid spoon in my mouth.
He didn't say anything, but he sat down on the couch next to me. He took the spoon from my mouth, put it in the bowl I was holding and put them on the coffee table. Before I could object, he kissed me. I jerked away before I could fall under his spell.
"You can't hurt me like that and then make it up by kissing me." I said bitterly.
"I'm sorry." He whispered and kissed me again. I pulled away again.
"No, Kyle! Go home. Go back to Jess."
He winced, but didn't back away.
"Fine. I'll leave." I jumped off of the couch before he could stop me. "D I'm leaving!" I called out.
She came out of her room, still holding the phone. She and Kyle both watched me as I cursed trying to get into my jacket and dug out my keys.
"I'll get my stuff later." I told her.
As I opened the door, I heard her ask Kyle "Where the hell is she going?"
"I don't know."
I slammed the door and ran to my car. As I pulled away, I was surprised that Kyle had not come out behind me. I sped through Cherry Hill, intent on going home but reconsidered and took a detour.
I was feeling so angry and the pain from our argument also felt fresh. I was feeling such a broad range of emotions, I thought I was losing my sanity.
How dare he think he can make up with me so easily! What made him think that I would just let it go and fall back into his arms? And to track me down and come to Donya's door - what balls!
Life would be so much easier if I just let him go.
I didn't have to wait for him as long as I thought I would. He must have known that I wouldn't go home, because he walked through the door of his apartment only a few minutes after me.
I had parked in the visitor's area, not far from his parking space, but he would never think to look for my car here. I have had a key to his apartment since soon after I started working for him. He had left his briefcase at home and was in an important meeting. I had to go get it for him. After that, he made sure I had a key and every now and then I would have to use it.
He didn't notice me right away. He put his keys down on the table by the door and took his coat off. I came out of the dark kitchen and into the light of the living room.
"Shit." He said, when he saw me.
"I'm rarely allowed to be here incase Jess comes by. You invade my life on every level and I can't even spend the afternoon in your home." I sniffed and quickly wiped away a tear. "That makes me feel like trash. I let you into my home whenever you feel like it, and the circumstances are the same. Luke could show up anytime and I take that risk. You're hardly risking anything. You're so careful that you don't get caught, but have no concerns about me getting caught."
He sighed and looked at the floor, but said nothing.
"That's what I thought." I said after a minute. I wiped my tears and I took his key off of my key ring and threw it on the coffee table.
He was standing in front of the door and once he realized I was going to leave he stood up a little straighter. I boldly walked over, but he put his hands on my shoulders when I tried to go around him.
"Kyle, let me go."
"No way. If you leave now I know you won't ever come back to me."
"If Jess shows up you're going to have a problem. That's why I'm not allowed to be here."
"I want you to be here." He held onto me tighter when I again tried to leave.
"I can't be here, because of Jess." I said lamely.
"I don't give a fuck about Jess right now!" He roared.
I stared at him, startled. He put his hands on my face and apologized.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. I just don't care about that right now. I really don't want you to go."
I took a few steps back, out of his reach, and crossed my arms.
"Kyle, let me go."
"I don't want you to leave." He said pathetically.
"I mean...let me go."
He stared at me and shook his head.
"I can't." He took a step towards me.
"You have to, because I am letting you go." I said softly.
"No." He shook his head.
"Yes." I started around him for the door again.
"No!" He grabbed me by my wrists.
"Kyle, let go!" He did and I looked at him as if he were crazy. Maybe he was and I trapped myself here with him.
"Emmy, please." He pleaded, stepping towards me again. He again cradled my face in his hands and then kissed me. I pulled away.
"Kyle! You can't make everything okay with a fucking kiss!"
As if he didn't hear me, he tried to kiss me again. I slapped him hard across the face. My hand hurt from hitting him and I wasn't sure how he was going to react but I stood my ground. He looked a little stunned for a few seconds but shook it off.
Too quick for me to react, he threw me over his shoulder. I yelled at him and punched him in the back as I tried to get down, but he didn't put me down until we reached his bedroom. He threw me on the bed and pinned me down.
I started to scream, but he quickly covered my mouth. He didn't say anything, he just stared at me. He held me down easily and I fought for a long time before I relented and went slack.
He waited until he knew I wasn't going to scream and uncovered my mouth.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," he said. "You're not trash and I don't want to let you go. I will try ha
rder to find a way to make things right, but I don't want you to go."
I didn't speak right away. I wasn't sure what to say or how to feel. Part of me wanted to leave and never come back and another part of me wanted to believe him.
When I still didn't say anything after a while, he gave me a closed mouth kiss while keeping his eyes locked with mine. When he tried for a more serious kiss, I turned my head. Aggravated, he forced my head back and kissed me more aggressively than he's ever kissed me.
I really fought it at first, but the truth is, he knew what he was doing. I was a huge sucker for his kisses. From day one, whenever he kissed me he would disarm me completely. No one has ever kissed me the way that Kyle kisses me. Not Luke, not anyone. That's why I kept trying to get away every time he would try.
The more I relented, the harder he kissed me. I involuntarily moaned a little and pushed my body into his. He took my arms and pinned them above my head without ever taking his lips from mine. He pressed himself against me and moaned into my mouth.
I struggled against him as he got more aggressive, but I didn't want him to stop. He used one hand to hold my wrists down and with the other he tore open my shirt. I heard buttons hitting the bed, the wall, and who knew what else. I cried out in pain when he initially grabbed at my breast but then I sighed with pleasure.
He slid his hand down my stomach and then between my legs. He went around my panties and sent me into a frenzy. He was being so rough, but I was enjoying it.
He started to fumble around with his belt and jeans, never releasing my wrists with his other hand. Once he freed himself, he again reached between my legs and tore my panties off of me. He entered me with such force I was pushed half a foot across the bed. He released my hands long enough to pull me back to the edge of the bed and again pinned me down as he slid into me again.
I really thought we were going to break the bed because we were going at it so hard. He used both hands to pin my arms now and the harder he squeezed my wrists, the closer I knew he was getting. Just when I thought he was about to break my wrists, he moaned my name and it was over.
