32. Jemma
Chapter 32
Jemma
I t was late when Braxton dropped me off last night, so I told him I wouldn’t make our breakfast date this morning. I’m now regretting that decision; I had such an amazing time with him yesterday, and I desperately want to see him again.
When I don’t find my mum in the kitchen, I go in search of her. It’s not lost on me that I now think of her as my mother and no longer Christine.
I’m surprised to find her curled up on the sofa with a box of tissues beside her. My first thought is that she is sick, but then I notice Ma’s diary in her hand. It brings an instant smile to my face.
This is progress and I love this for her. She’s been stuck in the past for way too long.
“Morning,” I say as I walk into the room and sit down beside her.
Instinctively, I snuggle into her side. It doesn’t feel weird or forced, it feels like a natural thing a mother and daughter would do.
“Morning, sweetheart,” she replies, placing a soft kiss on the side of my head.
“You’re reading Ma’s diary?”
“I am. I’m so grateful you encouraged me to do this. I’m learning so much about my parents. It’s helping …” She pauses briefly before finishing her sentence. “It’s helping me forget the terrible memories and focus more on the good ones.”
“I’m glad. I’m sorry for what you had to go through, but Ma wouldn’t want you to remember her in that way. She loved Pa and just wanted to be with him. I can understand that.”
“You’re right. They loved each other very much.”
I slide my arm through hers, resting my head on her shoulder. “Just like you and Dad once did … and me and Braxton.”
“It’s sad how life’s circumstances can change.”
“It is. As long as you don’t lose hope, I believe anything is possible.”
“It’s been wonderful having you here,” she says, placing her hand on my leg. “When you first had your accident, I thought I’d lose you, just like I’d lost everyone else—my parents, my husband. I don’t think I could have gone on if that happened. But I should never have underestimated you. You were always so strong. You fought hard to not only live again, but to find some kind of normality. I’m so proud of you for not giving up.”
“There were times I wanted to do that,” I admit.
“But you didn’t. Witnessing your strength has helped me in ways I could never have even imagined.”
A lump rises to my throat and, without even thinking, the words just fall from my mouth. “I love you, Mum.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” she says as tears fill her eyes. “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get to hear those words again. I love you too.”
I sit there for the longest time, just enjoying being near her.
“Do you want a cuppa?” I ask eventually.
“I’d love one. Oh, I almost forgot, a letter came for you earlier.”
She points to the envelope sitting on the coffee table, and I snatch it up on my way to the kitchen.
Letter fourteen …
Dearest Jemma,
The thirteenth of January 2007. It’s hard for me to forget this day, I was so nervous. It was the day I had to ask your father if I could take his little girl away for the weekend.
I’d been saving hard, and I just needed your parents’ blessing so I could book the flights.
It was a Saturday, you were at work, but both your parents were home. My stomach churned as I walked across your front lawn.
“Braxton,” your mum said with surprise when she opened the front door.
“I was wondering if you and Mr Robinson had a few minutes. There’s something I’d like to ask you.”
“Of course, sweetheart, come in.” I followed her into the lounge room. “Stephen’s out the back. I’ll get him.”
“Thank you.” I rubbed my hands together nervously as I sat on the sofa.
“Are you okay?” she asked, frowning.
“Yes,” I lied.
A few minutes later, she came back into the room, your dad by her side. I stood and shook his hand before we all sat. They were on the sofa opposite me, and I was grateful for the distance.
“Christine said you want to talk to us about something,” he said, opening up the lines of communication.
“Yes … I umm … want to take Jemma away next weekend.”
“Just the two of you?”
“Yes. I’ve been saving for the past few months. I’d like to surprise her and take her to Queensland.”
“Will you be staying in the same room?”
“Yes,” I replied, swallowing hard. I wasn’t going to lie to him.
“Not happening,” your father said abruptly as he stood. “She’s only seventeen and too young to go away … alone … with you.”
“Hold on,” your mother chimed in as he turned to leave.
“I said no, Christine,” he snapped. “I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
“She’s my daughter as well, or have you forgotten that?”
“No, I haven’t forgotten that,” he answered, turning to face her, but his shoulders slumped a little. “She’s just a baby.”
“She’s almost eighteen,” she retorted, rolling her eyes. “We knew this was going to come eventually. We were their age once too.”
Your mother had taken you to the doctor a month prior and got you started on birth control, so I already knew how she felt about this.
He shook his head as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “I can’t … she’s my little girl.”
“And I was my father’s little girl when you and I …”
Her eyes darted to me, and I was thankful she didn’t finish that sentence. As much as I loved your parents, there were certain things I didn’t want, or need, to know about them.
With that, your dad turned and stormed from the room, and my heart sank. There was no way I was going to defy him and go through with this without his blessing.
I stood. “Thanks for trying, Mrs Robinson.”
“Leave it with me,” she replied, walking me to the front door.
I felt like all hope was lost as I flopped down onto my sofa, burying my head in my hands. I sat there for the longest time, trying to come up with another way; I wanted so badly to do this for you.
I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard my name. When I looked up, I was both surprised and a little worried to see your father standing at my front door.
“Mr Robinson. Come in.” I opened the screen to let him in, even though I wasn’t sure if that was a wise move.
“I’m not staying. What I need to say can be said from out here.”
“Okay.” That didn’t sound good.
He cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets before he spoke again. “You have my blessing.” With that, he turned and walked down the front stairs.
“Thank you,” I called out as he stalked back to your place, but he didn’t reply.
Although I rushed out and booked everything straightaway in case your father changed his mind, it would still be another five days before I told you. I hated keeping secrets from you, but your reaction was worth it.
It was a Wednesday afternoon, and I’d just picked you up from work. “I have to work again tomorrow,” you said with a huge sigh, as you climbed into the passenger seat of my dad’s car. “That makes six days in a row.”
I’d spoken with your boss, Mr Jefferies, the previous Saturday while you were in the staffroom retrieving your bag. He’d swapped your shifts around so you could have the end of the week off.
“At least you don’t have work Friday, Saturday and Sunday,” I replied. “We’ll have three whole days together.”
“That’s if he doesn’t call me in at the last minute.”
I was grinning to myself because I knew that wasn’t going to happen. “We can do something nice if he doesn’t,” I said, reaching for your hand.
“I’d like that.” You looked over at me and smiled. “Can we go to the lookout for a little while? I’m not ready to go home yet.”
“Sure.”
“I just want to kiss you for a couple of hours … or maybe forever.”
“Okay,” I chuckled. You were always great for my ego. “You’ll get no complaints from me. I don’t have to pick my dad up until six.”
“We have five days to make up for. Five long days. That’s a lot of kisses, you know.”
I’d barely put the car into park before your lips were on me.
“Can we move into the back seat?” you asked a few minutes later.
“Why?”
I was waiting for you to bring up sex again. It had become a touchy subject. You’d been mentioning it a lot, and I’d been avoiding it like the plague. In your defence, you didn’t know the plans I’d been working towards.
“Don’t worry, I won’t pressure you into having sex. I just want to kiss you without the gearstick digging into my side.”
“Jem, you don’t need to pressure me to have sex with you. You know I want this as much as you do, if not more. I just want it?—”
“To be perfect,” you said, finishing my sentence. “As much as I want this, I love that you care enough about me to want it to be special.”
You leaned forward and brushed your lips against mine, before climbing between the seats into the back of the car.
Once I joined you, I lifted you onto my lap so you were straddling me. “Now, where were we?”
“Right here,” you answered, placing your lips against mine.
It didn’t take long for our kiss to become heated. Even the windows in my father’s car had fogged up. You were grinding yourself against me. Usually, I wouldn’t let it go this far, because it was getting tougher for us both to deny ourselves, but we were only a few days away from going all the way, so this time I didn’t fight it.
Your movements quickened, and you moaned into my mouth. Although, like you, I was a virgin; I was far from na?ve about what was happening. I had friends who’d had sex, and they talked about their conquests a lot, and in great detail.
Your fingers were digging into my shoulders when you pulled out of the kiss. Your bottom lip was captured between your teeth, and I saw your eyes roll back in your head as you tilted your face towards the roof of the car.
“Oh god, Braxton,” you whimpered. “This feels so good.” You released a long, drawn-out moan before stilling. Your cheeks were flushed and there was a glazed look in your eyes when they finally met mine again. “I don’t know what just happened, but I want to do that again.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “If I’m not mistaken, I’m pretty sure you just orgasmed.”
Your face was lit up with amazement. “Wow … just wow. That was incredible. I’ve never felt anything like it before. If sex feels that good, I want to do it right now.”
I lifted you off my lap. Two more days, I kept telling myself. Two more days.
Leaning forward, I reached across the passenger seat and took the plane tickets from the glovebox. I’d planned to surprise you the following day when I picked you up from work, but this moment seemed like the perfect time.
“What’s that?” you asked when I passed you the envelope.
“A surprise.”
A huge smile broke out on your face as you tore it open, revealing the tickets inside. “Oh, my god! We’re going on a plane?”
Even the mere mention of that word made me feel sick to the stomach. I could have easily taken you somewhere within driving distance, but your dream was to fly to an exotic beachside location, so I wanted this for you.
“Yes, we leave Friday, just the two of us. We’re flying to the Gold Coast and staying in a hotel on the beach until Sunday.”
Squealing, you threw yourself into my arms and squeezed me tight. “I can’t believe I’m finally going to get to go on a plane!” You drew back so you could see me, and the look on your face turned serious. “We’re going to have sex, right?”
I smiled. “Yes, we’re going to have sex.”
The nineteenth of January 2007. Eleven years to the day since we first met.
“You look nervous,” you said on the elevator ride to our room. It surprised me that you could tell now, yet you failed to see it on the flight.
“I am.”
Thankfully, I was now of legal drinking age, so I ordered a beer before boarding, and another one on the flight. It helped calm me somewhat.
The night before we left, my father had given me a man-to-man talk before presenting me with a box of condoms and a lecture on safe sex. The next morning, your father had done the same thing. I found out on the plane that your mother had given you a box of condoms as well. As awkward as all three conversations had been, we both found it amusing that we now had three boxes of condoms between us. How much sex did they think we were going to have?
“I’m nervous too, Brax, but I’m so ready for this … we’re ready for this. Aren’t we?”
“I want this more than I’ve wanted anything in my life.” And that was the truth. I wanted to show you how much I loved you, since I was incapable of expressing it with words.
“It’s going to be beautiful,” you said, reaching for my hand and lacing your fingers through mine. I knew it would be, but there was still a part of me that worried I’d let you down.
I brought our linked hands up towards my face, placing a kiss on your fingers.
We arrived on our floor and I let go of your hand, picking up both our suitcases. I’d called the hotel during the week and organised a surprise to be waiting for you in the room. I also made sure that we had a room with a view of the ocean.
“Oh my god! You can see the ocean from here,” were your first words when we entered our suite. I placed the bags down just inside the door and watched you as you rushed towards the floor-to-ceiling windows to take in the view. “I love it here already.”
As I crossed the room, I smiled when I saw the surprise awaiting you on the bed. You’d been so preoccupied with the view, you hadn’t even noticed.
Opening the glass sliding doors, we both stepped out onto the small balcony. You could smell the sea from where we stood.
When you turned to face me, I could see tears glistening in your eyes. “I love you so much, Braxton Spencer,” you said as you slid your arms around my waist. I wanted to tell you how much I loved you too, but again, the words failed me.
“Let’s check out the room.” I reached for your hand as we walked back inside.
You froze just inside the doorway, and I heard you gasp the moment you saw the bed. “Braxton,” you whispered. “Did you organise this?”
“I wanted it to be special … something you’d always remember.”
You walked towards the king-size bed and picked up one of the blood-red rose petals that were spread over the white linen. The hotel staff had placed lit candles on the bedside tables, and on the rich dark brown ottoman at the foot of the bed sat a rectangular white ceramic plate holding chocolate-dipped strawberries.
Your eyes met mine, and you smiled. “I’m glad we waited now. Thank you for going to so much trouble to make my first time everything a girl could wish for.” I watched in silence as you picked up one of the strawberries. “Mmm,” you moaned as you took a bite.
Walking towards me, you held the other half up to my mouth. I took a bite before drawing your body flush with mine and placing my lips on yours. Our kiss tasted of chocolate and strawberries.
“Do you want to go for a walk along the beach, or maybe get some lunch?” I asked.
“Later,” you replied. “Right now, I want to get naked.”
My aspirations for this trip were huge—it was all I’d thought about in the previous weeks—but now that the big moment had arrived, I was frozen with fear. I didn’t want to disappoint you.
I stood there as you took a step back and unbuttoned your blouse, one agonising button at a time. When you were done, you pushed it over your shoulders and down your arms. It fell to the floor, pooling around your feet. My eyes moved down to the swell of your breasts that were covered by the pink lace of your bra. I swallowed hard when your hands moved around to your back as you unclasped it.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you said, dropping it to the floor beside your shirt. I had to swallow down my groan as I took in the sight of your naked breasts. They were perfect, just how I imagined they would be.
Reaching up, I undid the buttons on my shirt. I moved a little faster than you. My movements were more desperate because I was now itching to touch you.
When you moved your hands to your waist, popping the button on your jeans, I followed suit. A few seconds later, I was standing there in my boxer shorts, and the only thing you were wearing was your pink lace panties.
We stood there and stared at each other for a few moments before you hooked your thumbs into the sides of your underwear. This time I couldn’t hide the groan as you dragged them down your long, lean legs.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whispered as my eyes drank you in.
When your gaze moved down to my boxers, and one of your eyebrows raised, I chuckled. You were always impatient when you wanted something.
I bent over slightly as I removed them, and the smile on your pretty face grew when I stood to full height. The gig was up. My lie had been revealed. There wasn’t a pocket in sight, yet here I was with my torch shining brighter that it ever had before.
I wasn’t the always-prepared Boy Scout I claimed to be. I was simply a young man who was utterly besotted by the exquisite beauty that stood before him. My forever girl. The person who completely owned my body, my heart, and soul.
I took a few steps towards you, closing the distance between us. I lightly ran my trembling fingertips down the side of your face, across your collarbone, and down your arm, before lacing my fingers through yours.
You sucked in a sharp breath as your eyes fluttered shut. “Braxton,” you whimpered as my lips softly connected with yours. I slid my other hand around your waist, pulling your body flush with mine. Skin against skin.
Deepening the kiss, I slowly walked you backwards towards the bed, never once taking my lips from yours.
When the back of your legs connected with the mattress, I gently laid you down before settling over the top of you. As I gazed deeply into your big brown eyes, all my indecision vanished.
“I love you, Jemma Isabella Rosalie Robinson.”
“I love you too,” you replied as tears filled your eyes. “I love you so much sometimes my heart aches.”
That day, we gave ourselves to each other completely. Our bodies and hearts became one.
What we had is far too beautiful to be forgotten.
Yours always,
Braxton
I release a contented sigh as I refold the letter. I’m grateful that he was my first, and for all the trouble he went to making it so special. These letters make me see just how lucky I’ve been to have his love.
Taking the charms out of the envelope, I lay them out in the palm of my hand. Two hearts linked together, and a tiny plane. A smile forms on my lips as I stare down at them. Although we no longer live together as husband and wife, there’s a part of me that knows my heart still belongs to him.