“Hey momma-san. What’s shakin’?”
“I wanted to take you to dinner for your birthday.”
Yep. That was tomorrow, and I bet none of my friends would remember. “Sounds good. Where are we going?”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Well, Dad likes Scotch & Sirloin. I can always enjoy a steak.” I could do without the pompous blowhards that frequent it, reliving their glory days, though.
“It’s just you and me, so you pick where you want to go.”
I pull into the driveway and swallow. “Dad isn’t coming?” As shitty as he’s been, he’s never missed a birthday dinner if he wasn’t on deployment.
“No, baby. He said it could just be the girls. Did you want to invite Avery and Saylor?”
I bite back a cackle. “No. How about I just come over after school, and we’ll have tea?” The last thing I want to do is plaster a smile on my face, act like my life isn’t as fucked up as a soup sandwich and pretend that I’m not fucking gutted by this last rejection.
“No. I want to take you to dinner.”
“I don’t want to go. Just forget it, Mom. It’s another day. Another day he can’t be bothered with.”
“Emberlee . . .” I hate the sadness in her tone. I don’t want her pity. I want her to fix it. I want her to make him love me.
“I’m serious, Mom. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I hang up before she can come up with her next argument and throw my head back against the headrest. A scream bubbles up in my chest, but I don’t release it. I pull the envelope I carry from my purse and try to decipher what the fuck it all means. I’m no closer now to understanding it than I was three months ago.
Gerald,
This letter is long overdue. I know I owe you an apology but it seems so inadequate. Insincere after all this time.
Considering the circumstances, the fact you and Natalie took Adriane in and raised her while I was unable to was nothing short of a miracle. You stepped up when you didn’t have to. I know it was hard for you to give Adriane back to me after investing your time and love, having another man be called daddy after you gave her so much more than he did and I applaud you for that.
I know it was a constant reminder to Natalie what she couldn’t have and she was the guiding voice in you giving me my daughter back so thank you to both.
You may never understand the circumstances that led to this decision but I assure you I weighed every angle and I love my daughter.
Please, don’t hold that against Natalie, Adriane, or Mark. I can’t wait until the day we’re able to be a family again and regain the friendship our indiscretions cost us.
All my thanks,
Sophie
It makes no sense. Why don’t I remember Adriane living with us? I pull up my phone and stare at pictures of us together. Are our noses the same? Cheekbones? I look identical to my mom, and she is a younger version of her mom, Sophie. I bang my hand against the steering wheel, overwhelmed trying to dissect this puzzle.
Walking in, I’m greeted by Julie’s squeals, and my heart melts. I stare at her and damn if she isn’t the spitting image of Deacon, but in a weird way she resembles Saylor, too.
“Green beans and apples. Such fine dining.” Saylor’s cooing and talking to her, and I’m frozen. This is what I had— a mom always there. Julie has the best of both worlds, a dad who loves her and a woman willing to parent her. Really parent her.
I’m clutching my phone when she catches sight of me. “Call off your dogs, Emberlee. I’m keeping her busy for Avery.” Speak of the devil . . . Avery comes dashing down the hallway from her room at warp speed as Saylor wipes Julie’s face.
Avery is chucking everything back in the bag, her eyes darting at me. Shit, I’m not supposed to be in Julie’s vicinity, and fuck if that doesn’t hurt. “I have to take her back to the house.” Avery’s face contorts in worry and regret.
“I understand.” Saylor hangs her head, the pain lacing her voice.
“Sorry,” Avery whispers. Both disappear from the room without a care in the world or a second glance at me. Am I that much of a danger to Julie? Loud music startles me, and it’s coming from Saylor’s room. I stomp to her door ready to give her a piece of my mind and stop myself. I have a better game to play.
I make sure she can hear me and fake a call to Adriane. “You need to be careful who you let keep Julie.” Pause for Adriane’s pretend response. “Yeah, I came home to Saylor playing Mommy. I know you wanted to spend some alone time with Deacon, but just be careful.” I hear the slamming of items and instead of being gleeful my plan worked, I’m slammed with shame.
Tossing my backpack down my phone vibrates.
DAD: Quit disappointing your mother. She wants to take you to dinner, allow her.
Back to barking orders via Verizon. How sweet. I slam down the cup I was reaching for, and Saylor appears, her facial expression showing me how much she wishes I wasn’t here. Yeah, feelings mutual. “Hope you enjoyed your time with Julie because it won’t happen again.” I’m talking as condescendingly as I can, and I see it hit the mark.
“I don’t know what I did to you, but you can stop being hateful. I got the memo loud and clear, Emberlee. No reason to keep repeating it.” I roll my eyes.
“You tried to take a place that wasn’t yours.”
“I didn’t take anything that wasn’t offered to me,” she taunts.
“You were just a place holder.” My words slice her, and her eyes fill with tears.
“What do you want from me?” Her voice cracks, and I muster all the fortitude I have.
“To remember your place.” I sneer. Every one has one— we just aren’t sure where they are.
She nods. “Noted.” I know she thinks I’m an evil bitch . . . and maybe I am. Each time I give up my plan, or realize the mistakes I’m making some unseen force causes me to grab hold and lash out. This isn’t healthy— for any of us.
Mason’s voice booms, “Avery! Meeting at our house. Time to fix shit.” He retreats, and I can’t help but notice I wasn’t included in this pow-wow.
I stare at the flower arrangement sitting on my dresser. They were delivered the morning of my birthday— from Brody. I begged off dinner, much to my parents’ disappointment. What’s new?
Me: A— call me. I need help.
Thirty minutes pass, and Adriane still hasn’t texted me. The silence in my house is drowning me.
Me: You home?
Shit. I shouldn’t have sent that.
Brody: Yes
Me: Want company?
Desperation has a new scent— aptly named Emberlee. I haven’t spoken to him since the night I exploded. Other than my birthday flowers, he hasn’t tried to reach me either.
Brody: If it’s you
Well, I wasn’t planning to send Santa Claus. What the fuck does that mean?
Brody: hello
Me: Trying to figure who else I would send . . . a harem for your needs? The Easter Bunny for an egg hunt?
Brody: Okay smartass— just come over.
Trying to bite back my smile, I stand and escape the walls closing in on me. Hurrying to his apartment, I try to calm my nerves. I know I have an ulterior motive of wanting to erase all the pain, but the one place I’m trying to get everyone back to is the time in my life before Brody, so running to him doesn’t make sense. I tell myself it’s just a ploy for me to refocus. I need a clear head to plan my next course of action and what better way to clear my head than with a mind-blowing orgasm . . . I’m not seeking him out for anything else.
And if you believe that you’ll see a pregnant pole-vaulter in the Olympics.
I gave her space. It isn’t that I didn’t want to be with her, but the girl that night . . . the manipulation of her friends . . . I didn’t see a future with that girl. Yet, I put up the picture of Melody and I and made some random photos I had of Emberlee prominent in my living room.
Her light knock has me rushing to let her in. No clue what she wants, but she in
itiated the contact, and it’s enough for me— for the time being. As I open the door, the question of what she wants is answered. My cock . . . not me. Her lips are glistening from either her tongue or lip-gloss. They meet mine, and it’s lip-gloss— cherry to be exact.
I grip her waist with every intention of pushing her back but instead my hands tug her in and I kick my door shut. Her tongue traces my lips as I push her against the door. I should stop this before I’m past the point of return— her tongue pushes past my lips and so do my good intentions. One leg hikes up, pulling my hips close as she rubs her core against my hardening cock. My lips disconnect from hers as I drag my mouth along her jaw, down her neck, across her collarbone. Nipping and soothing with my tongue, her pleasured moan shudders through me.
She pushes back from me, staring into my eyes. Her green globes flame with desire, raking up and down my body. I feel her small hand grab mine as she turns and hastily heads to the couch.
No words are exchanged as she turns, breaking my gaze from her ass and lifting her top, exposing her perky breasts, nipples erect, begging for my mouth. I reach for one, taking it between my fingers and tugging as she gasps. “Is this what you want?” My voice strains with my hunger for her.
“More.” She demands as her hand reaches for the opposite one, telling me I’m not doing my job. I swat her hand down and pull her closer.
Bending my head, I trace one pebbled peak with my tongue and suck it hard and fast into my mouth while kneading and pulling the other until it’s taut and she’s squirming and rubbing her thighs together for friction. Her hands push down her shorts as she shimmies out of her panties, making my throbbing cock tap against my zipper, aching to sink balls deep inside her heat. “Fuck.” I hiss, seeing her naked, ready for me to take her causes me to lose my train of thought. Instead, I want my hands touching every inch of exposed skin, my mouth tasting all she’s offering and feel her squeezing me, milking me of everything I have.
“Exactly what I’m trying to do.” Her saucy remark has me yanking her closer, devouring her mouth like I want to do to her pussy. I feel her hands rest on the button of my jeans freeing my dick as her fingers circle me while she strokes once. Twice, twist her wrist, and a third pass threatens my manhood.
We’re passing the point of no return. “Embe,” my lips murmur as I press kisses against her bare collarbone.
“Shh. No talking. You want me, don’t you?” Her lips lock onto my lower lip as she sucks it into her mouth. Damn, she’s got to stop before I come in my pants. As her fingers trace my dick she smirks as she feels it twitch. Little minx.
Stepping back, I tear my shirt off and toss it to the floor. She sinks to her knees, running her tongue along the base to tip, tracing the vein underneath, forcing me to lock my knees to keep myself standing erect. “Bed,” I stress, needing her horizontal— fast. I attempt to step out of my jeans so I can drag her to my room and she pushes me back triggering me to lose my balance and land ass first on the couch. My jeans are stripped and tossed behind her head as she straddles me. Hovering above me, I feel the heat and her arousal coating my stomach and rock hard dick as she rocks back and forth. She’s searing me from the inside, forcing me to crave her.
Raising off me, my dick becomes a heat-seeking missile and finds her entrance. Wasting no time, she sinks down in one swift motion, filling herself to the hilt. I nip her neck in pleasure as her hands tangle in my hair, tugging my mouth to her nipples. I alternate biting and sucking as she rides me like she’s in the lead for the Kentucky Derby. My thoughts stray to the fucker who taught her to ride cock in my absence, and I’m struggling to stay in the moment.
Her fingers snake down her stomach as she reaches her clit and starts rubbing. That move puts me back in the moment. I feel her thighs grip mine as her breathing comes in pants and her motions become wild and intense. She tosses her head back, screaming my name as she milks my cock. I hold her hips and push up into her twice more as I release into her sweet pussy, twitching and seeing stars.
My hands gravitate to push her hair off her face, and she freezes. She jumps from my lap, and my dick gives insult to injury as it slaps against my stomach. She’s grabbing her clothes with a smug smile in place. Her feet lead her to the door as she dresses, and I’m frozen. She just played me. Gave new meaning to fuck and dump. No thank you, no tip for my services, not even a fuck you . . . in words.
“Embe!” I call. Her steps halt. “What are you playing at?”
I stand, stalking to her like a man on a mission. And I am. To get her to quit fucking retreating after she fucks me. “No game, Brody. Had an itch and you had the tool to scratch it.”
“Bullshit. If that’s what you wanted, there are plenty of frat houses you could hit up.” I cringe, and my jaw ticks in anger with the thought. I can give her the option, but I’ll ensure she doesn’t take it.
“I’ll have to keep that in mind next time. This clingy shit is too much drama.”
“You’re too much drama. I don’t know why you do this? You’re destroying everything good in your life.” Her eyes shut, and her body tremors.
“I know this. We were already destroyed, so no damage here.” I want to shut her sass mouth. Either fucking the defiance from her or shoving my cock in it so she will shut up. I know she sees what she’s doing . . . nobody is that blind.
“Yet you won’t let us be put back together. I’ve told you I’d do all the work. I’ll woo you. I’ll do whatever the fuck you want.” I take her arm and tug her to my chest. “Stop.” I’m exasperated with trying to get her to listen. She drops her head to my chest and inhales. Her hands come to my waist, and she holds tight. For a fucking second. I saw her vulnerability, I saw the girl I fell for . . . for a fucking second.
Stepping back from my space, she looks over my shoulder. Stalking to the pictures of her, she laughs. “This is fixing it? Proving to me after three years you’re ready for me to be visible?”
“You’re all I ever saw.”
The frame hits the wall opposite of me. “Bullshit. You’ve seen your guilt. You’ve seen your truth. You’ve believed the lies you told yourself. I don’t. I can see through it all.”
“What do you see?” I challenge her.
“Betrayal. Indifference. Flaws.” Crack! Another frame against the wall. She needs a damn spanking. “Broken. All I fucking see is broken surrounding me. It’s everywhere.” Thud! Third and fucking final frame.
“Enough! Does it make you feel better?” I clear the shelf in one swipe. “Want to break shit. Break it all. Don’t stop at just you. You won’t be happy until everyone else is just as miserable as you. Get some fucking help, Emberlee.” Reasoning with her isn’t working, and I’ve lost my temper. I won’t regret it; she needs to hear the truth.
“Fuck you, Brody.”
“Isn’t that what you just did?” That was pushing her too hard based on the handprint I’m wearing across my cheek.
The door slams, and I make work of picking shards of glass and shredded pictures off my floor. I wish picking her up was this easy. I wasn’t lying; she needs help. I can’t reach her, her friends refuse, and she sure as shit isn’t going to help herself.
I’m done. As much as I don’t want to be, I can’t reach her when she’s this shut off. I won’t give up, but I can’t chase her when she’s like this. If we keep doing this to each other, there will be nothing left to put together. Lines are being crossed, words being spoken that can’t be taken back. You can apologize for them, but the way they made you feel is a lasting impression that can’t be erased . . . and right now she makes me feel worthless. Like there’s no hope, and I refuse to let her drag me down with her. I’ll be standing there to help her up— when she’s ready, but I won’t follow her down.
Well . . . that was delightful.
I know I brought it on myself with my breakdown at the end. I wanted the upper hand to show him how it felt to be discarded without a second thought. Instead, he pushes and pushes— so I push back.
/> We aren’t healthy— we’re lethal. What we reflect in each another isn’t positive, and it’s not something I’m signing up for . . . again.
I’m done.
I can’t believe he said I needed help. No fucking shit, Captain Obvious. I just don’t know where to begin looking for it.
“Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
“YOUR DAD!” Her wails shock my eardrums.
“Mom, what?”
I hear her struggling for air. “Y-you n-n-need to come h-home. A-a-a-accid-accident. Can’t locate him.”
“I’ll be there.” I hang up and freeze. Her words replay in my head, piercing my heart and seizing my chest. My legs can’t support my weight, and I crumble. I’m a heap, balled into the fetal position gripping the carpet, sobbing and struggling to breathe.
“Hey, what happened?” Saylor rubs my arm as I try and suck in air.
“M-m-my d-d-da-dad.” I manage between wails.
“What’s wrong with your dad?” Her hand freezes, and she’s rigid next to me. Of all people, the girl I’ve been the worst to is the one here to console me.
“He was on some mission. He’s always on some mission. My mom called, and there was an explosion. Nobody can reach him or any of his airmen, his crew that was with him.” I grab her hand, knowing I shouldn’t be selfish, but I can’t be alone.
“I need you to breathe. I’ll drive you to your mom. You need to be with her.” Her voice calming, our green eyes locking— we backpedal to a moment in time when I wasn’t such a vindictive bitch. She helps me stand and grabs her phone, pushing buttons and leading me to her car.
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