“Hey, I’m really glad I ran into you,” he said, pushing his asymmetrical, dyed-black hair back off his face. The man seemed to live in black. He was also sporting a new lip piercing today, and it looked painful. “I heard from Jannie that Ivy went into full-bitch mode at that gallery show. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry that happened.”
The gallery show felt like forever ago to me. Any irritation or hurt was nothing compared to what I was feeling now. It was water under the bridge at this point. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t need to apologize for Ivy.” Karma would find her eventually. Or not. I really didn’t care.
He shook his head at me, and his expression was amused. “Emma, you’re too nice. She didn’t have any right to talk to you like that. If someone had said that shit to me, I’d have slapped them into next week.”
I shrugged. “I’m not much of a slapper. I’ve never slapped anyone in my life.”
“I can teach you if you want.” He grinned. “I’m something of an expert.”
I believed it. Somehow, I managed to smile. The one good thing about waitressing was that it had taught me how to wear a smile at all times. “I appreciate the offer, but it’s just not really my style. I prefer my violence to be emotional.”
He giggled. “I suppose I can respect that. Hey, do you want to grab some lunch? I was just on my way to meet Jannie.”
I paused. If it was just Simon, I probably could have managed. But Jannie could be a bit…
“Don’t worry,” Simon said, anticipating my refusal. “Jannie is a lot nicer when she doesn’t have Ivy egging her on. We’ve both realized we don’t need that drama anymore. She’s an energy vampire. I know Jannie wants to see you, too. I feel like none of us have seen you in months.”
He wasn’t wrong. I’d seriously withdrawn from the department’s grad student community this semester. Since Ward. I found myself nodding.
“Ok. Let me go drop off these books and I’ll meet you.”
Simon grinned. “Cool. We’ll be in the union, facing Guadalupe street.”
When I met up with the two of them fifteen minutes later with my lunch in hand, I was glad I’d agreed. They were both funny and smart people when they weren’t under Ivy’s control. Catching up on the department gossip felt pretty good.
“So, are you still seeing that guy you were with the last time we saw you?” Jannie asked me eventually.
Oh no, she wants to talk about Ward.
I shook my head. “I haven’t seen him lately.”
“He was super-hot. I’m not even into dudes and I thought he was super-hot.” Jannie’s wife, Cameron, had just finished up her nursing degree. The two of them were due to move in a few months when Jannie graduated with her master’s.
I wasn’t sure how long I could talk about Ward without getting emotional. I shrugged casually. “He is, but we weren’t really seeing each other.”
“You know that’s why Ivy was such a capital letter B, right?” Jannie asked. “She had a huge lady boner for your man. It was all she talked about for like the next three weeks.”
“He isn’t my man.” Not now, not then, not ever.
“I’m just saying.” Jannie shrugged. “She was jealous is all.”
I shook my head. “She’s welcome to give him a call. It’s not like I own him.”
“Yeah, don’t tell her that unless you want to share STD’s with her.”
“We don’t exactly talk on the phone every night.” My voice was tart. “You seem to have really changed your mind about Ivy.”
Jannie and Simon exchanged a glance before she answered. “I just got tired of feeling like I’d been in a fistfight every time we hung out,” Jannie sighed. “I feel like she just kept me around so she’d have an accomplice. I’m nobody’s pet, and honestly, I don’t enjoy tearing other people down all the time. It’s fucked up.”
I nodded. “I had a friend like that in middle school.” Fuck you, Becky.
“Right?! But we’re old now. We need to get past that petty shit.” Jannie looked embarrassed. I decided I liked her. She reminded me a bit of Kate, only short and butch. “Anyway, I thought you should know about Ivy’s thing for your guy. I’m working on being honest as part of my post-Ivy life plan.”
Our conversation moved on after that, but the idea of someone else being with Ward stuck with me for the rest of the day. Like some sort of awful wound, the idea festered and grew. It turned gangrenous in my mind, rotting away at any competing thoughts. Soon it was all I could think of. Was he with someone right now? Who? What did she look like? Was she prettier than me? Smarter? It just wouldn’t go away.
No matter what I seemed to do for the rest of the afternoon, jealously of Ward’s next girl seemed to be the only feeling I was capable of. I’d told myself that I was protecting myself by breaking things off with Ward, but now that I’d removed myself from the picture, he was free. He’d been free before, technically, but he was spending so much time with me that I knew there was no one else. But now… he could be on top of someone at that very moment. Touching her. Fucking her. Making her say his name while he pounded into her until she couldn’t even speak. And it could have been me, instead. It would have been me, if I’d just kept my stupid mouth shut.
Lily was over at Ivan’s for the night, so I was alone in the apartment. Being alone wasn’t a good thing. I paced back and forth like a caged animal, imagining Ward with this fictional other woman. Hating her. In my fantasies, the woman looked an awful lot like Jessie, his former fiancé.
I’d found her Instagram after a little digging. She was gorgeous, even more beautiful than I’d imagined. She had tan skin, legs for miles, inky black eyes, long eyelashes, and the full, puffy lips of a Kardashian. She dressed like money was no object and seemed to subsist entirely on a diet of beautiful, expensive food served in exotic, luxurious locations. In comparison I felt like a tiny little freak living a tiny little life. Ward had said I reminded him of Tinkerbell when we first met. I was really more of Keebler elf.
Self-loathing, regret, and jealousy were swimming around my gut like sharks circling. They were going to eat my heart. The realization that I was in love with Ward had prompted me to end things, but the thought that he could be with someone else made me wonder if I’d been wrong to do so. Maybe I should have just prolonged things as long as possible, pushed back the inevitable, even though it would hurt me more when he got sick of me. I flopped down heavily on the couch, exhausted from pacing, only to jump in surprise when someone knocked on the door. I had to look through the peephole three times before I believed my eyes.
Ward was at my front door.
41
Ward
I came over with a really great plan, but when Emma opened the door, I forgot what it was. She looked at me like she was expecting bad news. Her shining eyes were huge in her face and she had her arms wrapped around herself protectively. She was wearing a pale blue set of pajamas and it made her look even sweeter and more innocent than usual, although I knew the body under the fabric was perfectly designed for sin. Desire and fear fought inside me without a clear winner. I was either making a huge mistake or the most brilliant decision of my entire life. I guessed it was time to find out.
“Hi,” I managed to stutter out. She blinked up at me and her soft, pink lips parted in surprise.
“Ward?” Her voice was soft, but I got the feeling that what she wanted to say was ‘Ward, what are you doing here?’. I took a deep breath to steady myself. There was a reason I’d come here. It had taken me hours and hours, plus two shots of espresso, to work up the courage to drive over. Then I’d sat outside for a good twenty minutes like the coward I was. Now that I was finally here, finally in front of Emma, I wasn’t going to chicken out.
“Can I come in for a minute?” My voice came out steady, but my heart was pounding.
She deliberated for a second before opening the door and retreating into the space to let me in.
Translation: Please make it quick.
/> Her apartment looked the same as it always had, but it felt foreign to me now. My brain noted all the little changes, a few bed pillows on the ground, glasses and plates piled next to the sink, a full trashcan, a backpack on the counter, and books strewn across the coffee table. It wasn’t nearly as neat as usual. Seeing the clutter made me feel slightly better. My apartment was a disaster zone at the moment. I also hadn’t shaved lately or combed my hair, and I could only assume I looked homeless. I also hadn’t slept properly in two days and was essentially running on caffeine and desperation. So, I probably looked homeless and crazy.
“I’m sorry about the mess,” Emma said. “I haven’t had a chance to clean up lately.” Her voice was empty. Almost monotone.
Translation: I didn’t expect you here.
I shrugged. “I didn’t tell you I was coming over. Plus, you never need to clean for me.”
Emma nodded, sitting down on one of the tall kitchen stools. “What’s up Ward?”
Translation: Get to the point, Ward.
“I brought over the stuff that was at my apartment.” The paper bag was in my hand, and I placed it next to Emma on the counter before retreating three feet in the opposite direction.
Emma raised a manicured, golden eyebrow.
Translation: That’s it?
“Thanks.” She didn’t sound that excited about it. I could hardly blame her. It would have been easier for me to simply leave it for her when she wasn’t home.
“I also wanted to talk to you,” I said. I shook my head in frustration. I had no idea what I was doing. I guess I just had to wing it. “Emma, are you in love with me?”
That got her attention in a hurry. Her eyes widened until there was no way they could possibly get any bigger. There was white showing all the way around her pupils. She looked like one of those Japanese cartoons where the women have the eyes that take up half their faces. Since she didn’t look capable of replying yet, I kept talking.
“I need to know. Emma. Please.” I’d never needed anything as much as I needed for Emma to tell me if I was out of my mind coming here to confess my love to her. I wasn’t sure I was capable of doing it without knowing what she felt.
“Ward, why would you come here and ask me that?” She looked frightened, or angry. Or maybe it was both. I wasn’t sure. Her voice was small and unsure. Perhaps she thought I was playing games with her, or just trying to get her back into bed. Her little hands had balled up into little fists.
“Can you answer the question first?” I seemed suddenly incapable of simply getting to the point. I wanted to tell her what I’d come here to say, but something was keeping me from just doing it.
Emma shook her head, realized that her hair was sticking out at weird angles and then tried to aggressively pat it down. “No. Because it doesn’t matter.” She paused and then repeated her question in a stronger voice. “Why are you here?” She was getting irritated with me, and that was making her more confident. I needed to get to the point before she threw me out.
“I know you said that you wanted to focus on the things that were important to you—the things you loved, and you thought that I wasn’t serious about you. I mean, I know that I said that I wasn’t. Serious, that is. We both did. Except I am…once you left, I realized…”
Christ, I was just rambling like a crazy person.
This was so not what I’d planned. I really was smooth most of the time, except when I needed it most, apparently. Maybe if I could touch her, I’d work up the courage to tell her the truth. I stepped closer to her, and when she didn’t flinch or run, closer again. I placed my hand over hers on the dated, mustard linoleum countertop of her kitchen. Her little hand felt warm beneath mine, but only for a moment, because she pulled her hand out from beneath mine and hid it in her lap. She didn’t want to touch me.
“What did you realize, Ward?” Her voice was steady now. She looked at me like she was on the verge of figuring something out.
“I made a mistake.” I swallowed hard. “I let you leave. I didn’t tell you the truth about what I wanted from you.”
She looked down at her hands. “What do you want from me?”
I wanted to admit it, but I couldn’t quite spit it out. I wanted to, but my throat wouldn’t let me. I shifted uncomfortably in my shoes. “Can I show you something really quick?”
She frowned, making a little line appear between her eyes. “Sure. I guess so.” She was obviously confused by the sudden change of subject.
I pulled the literary magazine out of my back pocket and laid it on the counter in front of her. The one I’d annotated. Yeah, I’d looked up the definition of annotated. I wasn’t ashamed to say the entire exercise had taken me hours.
Emma looked at it, then up at me. She pulled it closer to her and read through it, silently. While she did, I watched on anxiously, feeling the seconds tick by like they were hours. When she finally looked up, she was smiling a confused little smile.
“Did you like it?” she asked me. Her head was cocked to the side like she was trying to decode me.
I nodded. “Yes. Not the annotation part so much. But I tried, and I liked reading your work. It was like I was talking to you, even though you weren’t there. It made me feel closer to you.”
She smiled at that, too. The quick slip of white teeth gave me hope.
“Why did you bring this over to show me?” Her voice was still guarded.
“I wanted you to know that I care about you.” I frowned. “When you left, you said that you needed to focus on the things that were real and important to you. I got the feeling that you thought I didn’t think you were important to me. I just wanted you to know that you are important to me. Very important.”
She smiled again, but close-lipped. Her smile was smaller this time and didn’t reach her eyes. That wasn’t enough of an answer. Why couldn’t I just spit it out? I was trying, but my self-preservation seemed to have kicked in and pressed the mute button. Once again, the situation was spinning out of control.
“That was very sweet, Ward. It means a lot to me. Thank you for bringing this over. And the things I forgot.” She sounded tired now. She pushed her hair back from her forehead and glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall.
Translation: Ok, you can go now. We’re done.
“I’m not doing a good job with this conversation,” I confessed. “I had this whole thing planned out that I was going to say to you.” I shook my head in frustration. This was all going completely, ridiculously wrong.
She shrugged. “Don’t worry. You did just fine. It was bound to be a bit weird after the last time we saw each other. I’m glad you came by.”
Translation: I forgive you. Time to leave.
“I’m saying everything all wrong. I should have led with this: I love you.” It all came out in one continuous word-stream, leaving me feeling cold and frightened.
Finally. Thank you, Jesus. But I hope it’s not too late.
Emma’s eyes, which I thought were at their max size, somehow got even wider. They were two sea-green pools in the suddenly very pale backdrop of her face. She took a deep, unsteady breath.
“What?” Her voice was a tiny, whisper. I reclaimed her hand from her lap, holding it tightly in both of mine.
“Emma, I’m in love with you.”
What I was not expecting, and had not even imagined as a possibility, was that Emma would start crying when I told her that I loved her.
42
Emma
He loved me? The tears were running down my face within one breath, and I was pouncing on him a bare second later. He made a little ‘oomph’ of surprise, stumbling backwards two steps before laughing in obvious confusion and holding me to him. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, holding him as close to me as I could, and wishing I could keep this moment forever.
“You love me?” I repeated, staring up into his eyes when I broke away enough to see him. I was still crying, but it was a pure catharsis. I felt like I was finally releasing the tens
ion of the past few days. Every tear felt like it was healing the void that had been growing inside me like a cancer.
He nodded, but his expression was anxious. Those stunning sapphire eyes that I adored looked pained—afraid I would reject him. “Are you going to say it back?”
“That I love you? Of course, I love you!” Like he didn’t already know. What a stubborn man. He really was ridiculous sometimes. Lucky for both of us, he was also ridiculously sexy. And ridiculously kind. And ridiculously good. And now… ridiculously mine.
I held onto him for dear life, and he stroked my back while I sobbed like a baby. When my tears gave no sign of stopping, he stooped down to put an arm under my knees and scooped me up. He sat us both down on the couch and cradled me against his chest. I burrowed into his neck and soaked in his smell, his warmth, and his comfort. He felt like home.
“Emma why are you crying?” he finally asked me. His beautiful eyes were so confused and although I’d told Simon earlier in the day that I was not the slapping type, he could honestly use a good slapping at the moment.
“I’m happy!” I told him petulantly.
“This is you being happy?” His voice was skeptical.
I nodded. He still looked confused, but less than he had before. “Ok.”
“Ward, why didn’t you just tell me you wanted me from the start of this conversation?” I finally whispered against his ear. “Why did you let me go in the first place?”
He shook his head. The hands that were holding me close, shook slightly. “I don’t know. I’m an idiot. I was afraid to admit what I wanted.”
I sighed. He really did seem to be convinced that he wasn’t very smart. At the moment, I was inclined to agree. But the way he was stroking the exposed slice of skin between the waistband of my pants and where my shirt had been hitched up was so… distracting. I wriggled in closer to him, enjoying the feeling of his body next to mine again. At the moment I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted to feel.
Admit You Want Me Page 22
