8. Uncharted Territory
eight
Uncharted Territory
Dean
We arrived at home after Helen had retired to her residence in the attached villa across the garden. Since we were all alone, there was no need for pretenses. Going upstairs, we wished each other a good night, and Emma thanked me for indulging her father. As she spoke, her eyes were in a daze, as if she were somewhere else entirely.
In my bedroom, I took off my clothes, welcoming the fatigue that would promise me some uninterrupted shuteye. I heard movement outside and went to check, only to catch a glimpse of Emma from the back in a long silk robe. She was walking barefoot with a full bottle of whiskey in one hand and a glass in the other. She didn’t see me, and went straight into the guest living room, closing the door behind her.
Climbing into bed, I felt a sting of sympathy for the woman who never seemed to complain. The evening with her father had revealed hints of a strained relationship, and the unexpected exchange with her ex must have taken its toll on her.
As I lied there on my back, surrounded by darkness, my eyes began to acclimate, and I began to see the familiar shadows on the ceiling. Outlines of the trees in my garden. The silver glow of the moon.
And my solitude .
For an hour, I tossed and turned between the sheets with no hope of sleep. Finally, I decided to get up and check on Emma. In the hallway, I could still see the dim, warm light glowing through from under the door. Thinking that she might have fallen asleep on the sofa, I carefully opened the door, peeking in. My eyes immediately met hers when she turned to me, and her tired smile greeted my gaze. She was curled up in the corner of the sofa with her legs bent underneath her. Her robe was slightly open, revealing parts of her lacey nightgown in pale cream. “Come on in,” she said, pulling the silk fabric to cover herself. “Can’t sleep?”
I shook my head before eyeing the bottle next to her, now nearly a quarter of it gone. “Want to share that?”
Her giggle came as frail as her eyelids seemed as they resisted gravity. “It’s yours.” Leaning forward, she was readying to get up.
“No, no.” I quickly stepped in, rushing toward the cabinet. “I’ll get a glass.”
She leaned back, pulling her legs under her once again. Without any makeup on, she looked almost heavenly, like she had hailed from another dimension—a purer, more serene existence. Although I knew that nothing about her mind carried that sort of tranquility tonight.
After pouring myself a drink, I sat in the armchair at an angle from the sofa, facing her. “What’s with the drowning-my-sorrows vibe?
She smirked, staring at the half empty glass between her fingers. “Such a cliché, huh?”
“Who am I to judge?” I gave her a boyish look, shaking my own glass in the air. “Seriously, though. What’s wrong? I’m guessing seeing your ex brought back bad memories.”
“Oh,” she drew it out with a sigh, throwing back her head until it rested on the backrest. “Bad is an understatement.” She then flung her head back down, looking at me. “But we don’t need to talk about that.”
“Come on, Emma. Everybody needs to vent sometimes.”
“Look who’s talking!” She let out a sharp, snappy laugh before taking a sip of her plain whiskey.
“You’ve experienced your fair share of gloom out of me without the need to speak. Now it’s your turn.”
Gazing ahead, she fixed her eyes on a painting on the wall in front of her and slowly licked her lips, as if contemplating whether or not she should divulge her feelings to me. A moment later, she scratched the side of her head and clicked her tongue. “Okay, so, uh—Kyle is a sex addict. Well…” She waved a hand and a lock of her hair flew about with it. “Used to be, if we can assume he’s telling the truth about recovering.”
“Oh.” I sat back, my eyes paying close attention to the expression on her face. “That must’ve been difficult.”
She shrugged, flashing a girlish grin. “At first, I thought he was fun. So fun, so in love that he couldn’t keep his hands off me.” Her smile soon faded. “But then it all got far too ugly way too fast.” She took another sip, furrowing her eyebrows as if that one burned her throat. “Late nights when he would return to find me sleeping… he had no qualms starting before I could even open my eyes.”
My eyes, on the other hand, began to grow wider.
“Soon enough, I wasn’t even allowed to say no. To say no simply meant that he had to do it himself.”
“My God, Emma.”
“Oh, not to me… not at first, at least. But he would make it clear that he was about to leave and find someone else who’d agree at a moment’s notice, and he did.”
“And… you left him, right?”
“Which time?” She bitterly chortled and then again, another big sip. While she leaned forward for a refill, she added, “I broke up with Kyle three times in a year. One year. It was all it took for him to break me with promises of getting better… seeking help… joining the program and ditching at a glance from a hot blonde.”
“I’m… sorry you had to go through that. Nobody deserves to be treated like that, least of all you.”
“Me?” She looked at me with a sad smile. “It’s on me, you know. I enabled it. I allowed him.”
“You loved him. And a man who has a love like that—so forgiving, so… generous—should have treated you like a queen!”
She let out a little whine, and I wasn’t sure if it was a laugh or a cry, since she quickly leaned sideways against the backrest and curved her hand over her eyes, shaking her head. “I don’t want to be treated like a queen, Dean. I’m just a woman. A good woman. And I wanted to be treated as just that.” She paused, gesturing aimlessly with her hand. “But I guess that was too much to ask of Kyle.”
And she took another sip.
Leaning forward, I held out my arm and whispered, “Don’t you think you’ve had enough of that?”
“Not even remotely,” she objected. “You know what the pathetic part is? Is that he’s out there, getting the help he needs… while I’m stuck.” Narrowing her eyes, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m so stuck. It’s not fair.”
“Y—You still have feelings for him?”
“Oh, I’m not that pathetic,” she snickered. Looking away, she put down the glass on the floor between her feet and leaned forward, placing her face in both her hands. With a muffled voice, she confessed, “I haven’t been able to let anyone touch me since I left Kyle.”
And that was when she began to quietly sob .
“Isn’t that sad?” She continued to cry, shielding her face from me with her hands. “I’m so broken I can’t help but feel sorry for myself. Therapy—it only helped with the panic attacks. But I couldn’t afford to continue, and the worst part is… people take sex for granted.” Snuffling, she added, “Everyone around me seems to think of it as that thing they do to blow off steam on a Friday night. And me? In this endless loop of fear and disgust ? How can I ever get back what he stole from me?”
Normally, I would take a woman out on a few dates and see her naked before I got to see her cry. But then again, Emma and I started by working together and jumped straight into counterfeit nuptials. I wasn’t going to pretend that anything about our relationship was normal.
And all of that logical nonsense aside, my heart was breaking for her.
Without further thought, I went over to sit next to her, close enough to be able to wrap my arm around her back. All it took from me was a gentle push, and she let herself into my embrace, weeping against my chest. “My God, I’m sorry,” she murmured into my shirt. “I’m so drunk.”
She tried to pull away, so I held on tighter, patting her back with both my hands. “Shhh, it’s okay. It’s alright,” I whispered, and she stopped resisting for a moment.
But it wasn’t long before she planted her palms onto my shoulders and pushed herself away with determination I didn’t know she could have at this moment. “I’m—” her tears continued to cascade down her face, as if the demolished dam was too far gone. “I’m drunk. I’m clearly so drunk.” With one hand, she began wiping one of her cheeks. “This is so embarrassing,” she breathed, looking away.
Without taking my hand off her back, I leaned closer, whispering, “Emma, you shouldn’t be embarrassed. And you’re not broken. And there’s nothing shameful about your pain or those tears.” Gazing down at her hands, she didn’t respond. “Emma, do you understand?”
She wouldn’t even nod.
I didn’t know what it was, but clearly, something about her… something that had rendered Kyle unable to control his urges. It must have been the same thing that prevented me now from curbing my desire to comfort her. Up until that moment, my protective side had only let itself be seen a few times. It would show with my mother; with an old girlfriend when she’d broken her leg. It also shone through when my father was dying, and the doctors were clueless about how to help him.
But never had it ever manifested itself in the way I was feeling right now. Never had I ever yearned to engulf another human being inside of me physically, in order to consume their pain.
My mind was at a loss at how to handle my emotions, and God only knew I had exhausted all of my energy at hiding them lately. Everything around me stood still, and nothing moved other than that tear slowly descending along the soft curve of Emma’s reddened cheek.
And I wanted nothing more than to wipe it from existence.
And my body claimed a life of its own, away from my consciousness and better judgment.
Inching closer, I saw her eyes rise up to meet mine, questioning if I was about to inflict another wound that would be too much to bear. But that wasn’t my intention.
Letting my fingers make their way up to her trembling chin, I touched it with as much tenderness as I could muster, fixing her head in place.
And then I did the last thing either one of us saw coming .
I allowed my lips to land on that salty drop at the bottom of her jaw, smudging it across her smooth skin. And I didn’t stop there. Moving my lips ever so slowly, I traced up the wet line left in the wake of her regret. My heart was about to implode, so I closed my eyes, fully aware of the fact that she remained calm and accepting under the tenderness of my touch.
When my mouth reached her eyelid, I felt her prickly little lashes against my sensitive lips, and my heart raced faster.
I wished kisses could reach a person’s soul, sucking out all the remorse and agony inside. I wished I could free this gentle being from the demons Kyle had recklessly left inside of her. The seed of his thoughtlessness and self-indulgence had had all the time in the world to grow, sprouting their haunted branches around the essence of Emma’s womanhood.
And here I was, helpless and engrossed in an uncharted territory that drew me deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole.
No words were exchanged in this frozen moment, hanging alone in a dark vacuum of space and time.
And when I opened my eyes, I knew that the words to describe this moment hadn’t yet been invented.