Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The drive to my house takes an eternity. I turn on the radio and listen to whatever is playing. I choose a station for their emphasis on love songs. I listen with a heavy heart to songs like “Bound to You” by Christina Aguilera and “Somewhere Only We Know” by Lily Allen. I completely lose my shit as I pull my car up to the curb in front of my house, just as John Mayer’s “Dreaming with a Broken Heart” plays.
The words of the song crush my heart and strip my soul. How could I have been so wrong? How does a man hold back your hair while you puke your insides out and then call you a whore less than eight hours later?
I slip slowly from the driver’s seat and walk up the cement walkway. I’m going to have to remember that the only person I can count on is me. I put my key in the lock and open the door. The house smells musty from being closed up for so long. There must be fifty pieces of mail on the floor. I’m supposed to do a change of address, but I never get around to it. In the end, it’s a good thing I didn’t find the time.
I shut the door behind me and walk over to the couch, and collapse. I allow myself fifteen minutes to wallow in my sorrows. Once I finish, I pull my phone out of my pocket.
There are over twenty missed calls from Anthony. I delete without listening to any of the voicemails. There are many texts, but I don’t have the energy to read them. There is nothing he can say at this point. The last call on my phone is Kat. I go to the kitchen to get a Diet Coke from the refrigerator, then back to curl into a ball on the couch.
I look at my phone for a minute. Avoiding the compulsion to read Anthony’s messages, I type a quick text to Kat.
Hey, Kat, it’s Emma.
Oh, sweetie, are you okay? Where are you?
I’m home. My home. Please don’t tell Anthony.
He knows, honey. He called us and asked us to check on you. He said you wouldn’t answer your phone or his texts. He guessed that you went to your house. What happened?
I don’t want to talk about it. Can we talk tomorrow? I just want to go to sleep.
I’m on my way. Hang in there. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.
Please don’t come. I’m going straight to bed. Let’s meet at Java Joes for breakfast around ten o’clock tomorrow morning.
All right, but I’m worried about you.
I’m okay. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you!
You’re full of shit, Emma, but I’ll respect your decision. I’ll meet you at Joe’s. Love you!
Night
I end my text and turn off my phone. I’ll have to get another charger tomorrow, because I left mine at Anthony’s. It’s hard to get all the things you need in a few minutes. You just run. It’s the classic fight-or-flight response, and I was trained for flight because I saw what happened when you stayed to fight.
I spend the next two hours deep cleaning the house. Roxy is coming tomorrow to see the space, and I want it to show well. I have always used cleaning as therapy. If the house is spotless, then my life is not going so well.
I throw my sheets in the washing machine and make a cup of tea. My stomach is still upset, and I’m hoping the chamomile has a soothing effect. I sit on the couch and run the day through my head again.
Everything was going well. Granted, I was sick this morning, but he was so sweet. What person cares for you so well, then turns on you like a rabid dog? Who would’ve thought we’d be where we are now, given how fabulous we came together in the shower this morning? It was beautiful, and I have no idea how I’m going to get through this.
I sit in a daze—thoughtless and zoned for hours. When I finally pull myself back to reality, it’s past midnight. I drag my tired, depressed self to my room. I quickly put fresh sheets on the bed and climb under my down-filled duvet, trying to find comfort in something.
I toss and turn for hours. The last few months of Anthony’s and my relationship play over and over in my head. I don’t know where his aggressive behavior came from. He has been more possessive lately; however, I’ve never seen him respond with violence.
Blake Havers was a complete idiot today. We’ve only had a platonic relationship. I went to a restaurant opening with him once, and I attended the last food and wine festival with him, but that was six months ago.
I toss my body around, trying to find a comfortable position to be in. I’m used to sleeping with Anthony’s body next to mine, his arms cradled around me. My head fit perfectly under his chin. His hips tucked up close to my bottom.
Rolling to my side, I stare at the only picture I have of my mom. We are leaning against a tree in the park. I’m eleven in the photo. I had a disposable camera that had one shot left, and I asked a stranger to take the picture. I stood behind her because I was taller and wrapped my arms around her neck, with my chin rested on her shoulder.
My dad had been gone for weeks, and things were happy and carefree. It was a warm summer’s day. We went for an ice cream cone before we went to the park to swing. My mom loved to swing. We would sit side by side and see who could go higher. I loved jumping from the swing as I propelled it forward. My mom would never jump; she said she was afraid of breaking something. In hindsight, that strikes me as funny. She avoided something that had little risk of hurting her, yet she stayed in the place that would eventually kill her.
I drift off to sleep with the thoughts of sunshine, ice cream, and my mom’s smile on my mind.
I wake up to the sound of the doorbell. I look at the bedside clock and see the time is 8:30. The doorbell continues to ring, and I’m disoriented from lack of sleep. I slip on my fuzzy pink slippers and slowly make my way to the door. I unchain it and unlock both deadbolts before I throw it open. Whoever is behind this door better back off because I’m in no mood to deal with people today.
“What?” I yell. I find Anthony standing in front of me. He has two cups of coffee and is several feet back from the door. His posture is nonthreatening, and I imagine he stepped back from the door as soon as he heard the locks being thrown.
“Emma, please don’t close the door. I’ll stand here, so you’re not afraid. ”
I look behind him at the taxi idling by the curb. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to see you. It took everything in me not to come over last night.”
“Shouldn’t you be at the airport? You really shouldn’t be here.”
“My flight is leaving in a few hours. Please don’t push me away. I came to apologize.”
“Okay, have a pleasant flight.” I close the door but hear his plea through the door. He sounds like a wounded animal.
“Please, baby, I love you. My heart is in your hands. You can crush it or make it soar,” he pleads.
“I can’t do this right now. I didn’t sleep well last night, and I have to meet Kat in a little while. Thanks for coming by, Anthony, but I don’t have room in my life for this.”
“Please, Emma, I’m begging you. Sit on the porch and drink coffee with me. I brought your favorite. I’m not asking for you to let me in. I’m begging for a few minutes of your time. I’m leaving for four days, and I don’t want to leave things like they are.” I open the door, and he looks at me with soft, pleading eyes. I waiver long enough for him to approach me. He sets the coffee down and pulls my stiffened body into his arms. His lips are on my hair and I relax slightly before I push him away.
He steps back and looks at me with sadness. I sit on the top step and wait for him to sit next to me.
“Say what you need to, and then you should go to the airport.” My eyes are blurry as I fight the tears that threaten to spill. I swipe at the lone tear that escapes. Before I can reach it, Anthony’s thumb softly brushes it away.
“I’m sorry. I know I scared the hell out of you yesterday. I scared myself, too. I’ve never reacted like that. My only excuse is that I’m so in love with you I can’t think clearly.” He leans his head to each side of his shoulder as if trying to crack his neck. “I wasn’t mad at you. I was mad at myself for blurting out something I knew I shouldn’t have. I know you, and you’re a loyal, honest woman. When I saw Blake touch you, I saw red. He spewed his ugly words, and I couldn’t stand for him to say those things about the woman I love.”
“Are you referring to the same things you said when we got home? You’re just as bad as he is—worse because you had all the power to hurt me, and you used it.” I reach down and pick at the pink fur on my slippers.
“I know, and I’ll never forgive myself. I’ll give myself no excuse. I’m a thirty-four-year-old child. I got jealous, and I misbehaved. Please don’t throw away what we have because I was an idiot.”
“What did you break?” I watch him cringe as I ask the question.
“I threw a glass, but it wasn’t at you. I was mad at myself. As soon as the words came out, and I couldn’t take them back, I was furious with myself. I threw it in the sink, and it shattered. I can only imagine where that took you. I’m so sorry. You know I’d never hurt you.” He reaches for my hands, but I pull them away. His shoulders visibly sag.
“You hurt me, Anthony. You scarred my heart, which will take some time to heal. You damaged the trust we built together.”
“I understand that. I’ll do whatever it takes to build your trust in me. I told you already you’re the only one for me. I knew it the day I saw you, and I know it now. There will be no others.”
I look out at the waiting cab and giggle. “That’s going to be one hell of an expensive taxi ride.”
“I don’t care about the cost of the taxi. I care about you, and I don’t want to leave you.”
“Why are you going to Dallas, anyway? You seem stressed, and you aren’t sharing any information with me.”
“I didn’t want you to get stressed. I have to check out the two stores in Dallas because there have been some discrepancies in the books. A lot of money is unaccounted for. Then the incident at Ahz happened, and now, this. It’s been a shitty week.”
“We used to live together. I was supposed to be your partner,” I tell him. I can’t look into his eyes because if I do my heart will break. Maybe I judged him too harshly.
“We still live together, baby. Come home. I need you with me. I screwed up, but I promise it won’t happen again.”
“Let’s talk more when you get back. I don’t want to add to your burdens.”
“Why do I feel like you’re not coming home?”
“I need some time to think. This morning, I was never going to talk to you again. See how far I’ve come.” I smile up at him.
“Please come home, baby. I have to go, but it’s going to be so hard to leave you. I haven’t spent more than a day without you in my arms or my bed. Can I kiss you goodbye?”
I lean into him; he draws me like a magnet to metal. His lips brush gently against mine. His kiss is tentative like he’s testing the waters. I melt into him, burying my nose in his chest. His fingers gently lift my chin as his lips fuse with mine. My heart is pounding out of my chest, and I don’t know if it’s from love, hope, or something else. I open my mouth to inhale and feel his tongue enter. His kiss is slow and passionate. There are a million words said in this kiss. My hands slide up his chest to wrap around his neck. He deepens the kiss, our tongues dancing. It’s a sexy dance, like the Samba or the Tango. The world around me disappears, and only he and I exist. We linger in the abyss for several more minutes before he pulls away.
“I want to take you into your room and make love to you. I can’t right now because I have a plane to catch, but I want to. You don’t know how much I want you.” He looks down at his pants. My eyes follow to his crotch.
“Hold that thought until Wednesday,” I say. We both stand. He grabs my head and pulls me in for another mind-bending kiss.
“Are you coming home, baby?”
“I’ll think about it. We have a lot of unresolved issues. Keep kissing me like that, and I can’t think of anything but how nice that feels.”
“Go back to bed. I’ll text you from the airport. I have to run. I love you.”
“I have to meet Kat for coffee soon, and then Roxy is coming to see my house.”
“She’s coming to your Malibu house? Wow, I didn’t know we were subletting rooms. I said that we were having problems with money in Texas, but we are far from destitute,” he teases.
I give him a playful punch before I reply. “That’s your house. I’m talking about this house.”
“We’ll talk about what’s mine and what’s yours when I get back. I have to go. I’ll miss you. Emma, and I’m so sorry.” He holds my hand until the distance he travels pulls us apart. I watch from the porch as he enters the cab and pulls away.