Authors: Karen-Anne Stewart
Chewing the edge of my lip, I nod. He grabs his jeans, reaching for his wallet. I hear the rip and watch as he rolls the condom over what’s getting ready to be inside of where I’ve never allowed anyone to be. Closing my eyes, the poignancy of the moment hits me.
“I want you to look at me, Emma,” he demands, his voice softening.
Obeying, I look up at him staring down at me with such intensity, I feel like I might cry.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks one last time.
“Shut up and just make love to me already,” I breathe, finding him again and sliding my finger down his magnificent length.
“I’ll go slow. I swear I’ll be gentle with you.”
Those darn tears threaten to fill my eyes again and I wonder what the hell is wrong with me as I bite my lip and nod. His fierceness is gone, replaced by a gentleness that is every bit as passionate and full of hunger as before when he presses his swollen tip against the entryway of both gain and loss, carefully easing inside. His eyes never leave mine and he immediately stops when I tense, knowing that I feel the burn of all of him trying to fit into me. I tangle my hand in his hair, pulling his mouth flush to mine, “Make me yours,
now
, please
.”
A soft gasp escapes as he eases the rest of the way inside and begins to slowly slide in and out, his hand cupping my cheek. I watch as he studies my body’s responses until he lets go, his mouth trailing tender kisses up my neck and across my chin and mouth while his body collides against mine. My body builds and he thrusts harder, pulling in and out until I’m writhing underneath him. His mouth leaves a trail of fire on my skin, down my neck, over my heaving breasts, down my sides and across the soft flesh above my navel. My skin is on fire. I dig my fingers into his shoulder and he wraps his right arm underneath my back, pulling me flush to his hard chest while he balances us with his left arm, his fingers digging into the sheets.
I feel his breath hot against my neck, his breathing ragged as he takes me higher. My heart pounds and my skin moistens as he continues to hold me against him, thrusting harder and harder inside of me. He fills all of me to the core with each thrust, expanding my tightness, and I am utterly lost with how
good
it feels to have him inside of me. Being so close to him as I build into a delirious high feels like heaven and I explode, my body arching violently into his as my body shudders, shattering exhaustedly in his arms.
His hand cups the back of my head as his movements intensify, going deeper, harder, as he thrusts inside of me. His fingers tangle in my hair and his mouth falls against mine when his body tremors just as violently with his own release. We’re breathless as we fall against the bed, the weight of his body gloriously crushing me. I feel his heart pounding against mine and I kiss him with everything I have, giving him all that I am.
“Happy birthday, Emma,” his lips curve into a smile before he collapses next to me, pulling my body against him until I’m cradled in his arms.
I snuggle my head between his chin and chest and breathe him in deeply, never wanting this moment to end. “That was the best damn present, ever.”
His shoulders shake softly when he laughs. He brushes his lips against my forehead and exhaustion takes me while I wrap my arm under his, over his side, and press my hand against his back as I drift into the most exquisite oblivion.
“I have to
go, Emma,” Breck’s voice pulls me from my dreams of what we did last night.
I reach for him, but he’s not next to me. Blinking against the harsh morning light, I open my eyes to see him standing next to the bed, fully clothed, with his keys in his hand. “What time is it?”
“7:15,” he answers in a hurry, sounding agitated.
“Where are you going so early?” I sit up, panic bubbling inside as he avoids my gaze.
His voice is cold and detached as he rushes, “I just have to go.” He finally looks at me with that damn dark guarded look he had the day we met, and my chest caves. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
Catch up with me later? No. No. No. This can’t be happening.
My fingers grip the sheet until my knuckles are white, “Breck, wait!”
He stops at the bedroom door, hesitating before he turns around, “Happy birthday.” He doesn’t wait on a response before he’s gone.
I don’t have one anyway; I can’t even breathe. The door slams and my head falls against the headboard. Panic pricks my skin as I replay last night over and over in my mind. Everything seemed perfect, and I refuse to jump to conclusions. Throwing the covers back, I storm into the kitchen to find my cell phone, intent on calling Breck and finding out what is going on. My heart drops to my stomach when I see the door to the hall closet open, the two angel paintings I purposely didn’t show him in full view. He can’t handle the beliefs I’m failing miserably at keeping right now.
A soft rap against my door echoes through the hall. Wrapping the sheet around my body, I rush to answer it, praying Breck’s going to tell me his reaction to me a few minutes ago was just a misunderstanding. The warm Spring morning breeze blows the sheet as I open the door but I feel nothing but cold when I see Justin standing outside. The look in his eyes reduces me to nothing. “W-what are you doing here, Justin?”
He pushes me inside and slams the door behind him. “I came here to see you on your birthday but I just saw a hell of a lot more than I ever wanted to. Who was that leaving your apartment at dawn, Emma?” Justin yells at me, the anger in his voice sounding so out of place coming from him.
I want to tell him it’s none of his business but my head is too clouded and preoccupied at the moment.
“What the hell is going on? You came to the door in a sheet! Are you sleeping with him?”
I grip the sheet, pulling it higher, and he knows that I just left the same bed Breck did. He grabs my arm, then stops when he sees the tattoo and he releases me like I burned him, “Get your things, we’re going home.” His rigid body brushes roughly against mine as he storms past me.
Shock stalls my reaction but only for a few seconds. “I’m not going anywhere Justin,” I snap, following him as he yanks open my drawers and starts taking clothes out, throwing them on the bed. “Stop it, Justin!”
Spinning around, he grabs me tightly, jerking me towards him, “I let you leave Pickens. I let you go on this ridiculous dream to move to Boston to try to sell your paintings. I came here to see you, to spend some time with you, and you’re having sex, getting tattoos, and God only knows what else.”
Jerking my arm away from him, I step back, fire blazing in my veins, “You
let
me? You don’t control my actions, Justin. Moving here was my decision. If I have sex with-” I choke back tears not able to say Breck’s name, “someone, or want to get a tattoo or whatever in the hell else I want to do, that’s my decision to make, not yours!”
He grabs a shirt and a pair of shorts and throws them at my face, “Get dressed. We’ll see what your father has to say about your
decisions
.”
Guilt immediately impales me but I push it away. I’m twenty-two, no, twenty-three, dammit, I can make my own decisions, no matter how screwed up and scourging they are. “Leave, Justin.”
“I’m not going anywhere without you. We are going home.”
“There is no ‘we’ anymore, Justin.” The pain in his eyes sends a sharp ache straight to my already damaged heart, “You knew that I was never in love with you. I never said I was, even when you told me that you loved me.” God, the truth of everything that I’m saying to him cuts and burns like venom, knowing that Breck never said he loved me either. “I tried, but I couldn’t, I can’t.” Breck tried, I know he did, I saw it, I just wasn’t enough, like Justin isn’t enough for me. Tears spill from my eyes as I look at him full of regret, “It was never my intent to hurt you.”
Justin’s back straightens, his face contorting in anger and pain as he looks at me, the one girl that I ever knew he loved, and I can’t love him back. The seconds tick by torturously, making the pain so much worse. “Whether or not you love me is irrelevant right now. You’ve made a spectacle of yourself and your father. Look at you, I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
“You never did to begin with, Justin, not really. I tried to tell you but you wouldn’t listen.”
“That’s because all you ever talked about was leaving!” he yells before raking his hands through his hair, struggling to calm down, “I know you want to paint. You didn’t have to come here to do that.” He pauses. His head drops before he turns it away then slowly looks at me, “I would’ve taken care of you. I can give you a good life. You don’t have to work, you can continue your hobby.”
“My
hobby
?” I yell, not able to take anymore right now. I push against Justin’s chest, pushing him backwards through my bedroom door, “Get out!”
“Stop it, Emma!” He grabs my wrists, holding them so I can’t push him away, and I struggle to get free. The sheet falls to the ground, and Justin drops my hands, glaring at me.
I grab the sheet, covering my naked body.
“He’s tainted you, Emma,” he states with pure contempt. “You were always the one telling me to wait, that your beliefs were to be married before you gave yourself away. I waited years on you and you’re already giving it up after mere months here? Who is he? How long have you even known him? Maybe he’s not even your first!”
“That’s none of your damn business, Justin!”
The contempt drips from his words, “Your daddy should’ve checked the color of water before he baptized you in it.”
My hand lands hard against his cheek before it flies to my mouth, red and stinging from the harsh slap. Justin stands there, the veins in his neck bulging as he glares at me, and for a second, I’m a little scared of what he might do. I hear his shallow breathing as he touches his cheek before grabbing my wrist, jerking me towards him, “You’re not the same girl you were when you left. I don’t know who you are!” Letting me go, he pushes me, and I stumble backwards as he walks away, my door slamming for the second time.
Shakily, I reach for the phone. I call Breck, desperate to hear his voice and needing to prove myself wrong. It goes straight to voicemail. Hours pass, and I try a few more times throughout the day, leaving him a message and sending him a couple of texts but he never responds. Jess calls. I don’t answer. I’m supposed to meet her tonight.
We
were supposed to meet her, Jason, and Gavin tonight for my birthday. I try to wait on the time Breck had said he would be here to get me but I can’t stand the waiting, the not knowing, it’s driving me insane. Other than Jess and the message from Dad wishing me a happy birthday, my phone has been silent, and I’m so close to losing it.
My fingers move to my necklace as I play with the charm. Justin’s right, I’m nowhere near the girl I was less than a year ago.
I
don’t know who I am. Grabbing my keys, I drive to Breck’s, my heart pounding in my chest as I stand in the hall outside his door trying to work up the courage to knock and force him tell me where we stand. I raise my hand and make my knuckles rap against the wood. Breck answers, looking like hell.
“I need to talk to you,” my voice is trembling and I cringe.
“I’m sorry I left the way I did,” he immediately apologizes.
He sounds sincere and I feel a spark of relief, “Why did you go?”
He looks away, “I-I have to go out of town for a few days.”
My relief is ripped away. “Please - tell me what’s going on.”
I step towards him and he backs away, holding his hand to prevent me from touching him, “Don’t, Emma!”
My soul just died. “Please, tell me it’s not true. Tell me that everything we had can’t be wiped away so easily now that-” my voice cracks and I want to scream, “now that you’ve had me.”
“No, Emma, it’s not anything like that,” his voice softens and I want to believe him. God, how I want to believe him.
“If it’s not that, then tell me what it is.”
He doesn’t answer.
All the color drains from my face as a strong dose of nausea churns in my stomach, making me dizzy. “I’m not naïve enough to not realize that I was just a curiosity for you at first, but I thought we became more. Is it that, now that you’ve had me, I’ve satisfied that curiosity and I wasn’t enough to keep you wanting more? Or maybe it’s how I’ve proven myself to be a hypocrite, like you think all people who believe what I do are? You’re right, I am. I tried not to be, but I am!”
Silence.
The truth slams into me and I grab my stomach, almost doubling over from the pain, “You think I’m like what happened with Jess. I’m just another mistake.”
His eyes meet mine and they look so foreign to me. His silence fuels the godawful pain slicing my heart.
“Tell me, Breck! Dammit,
please
.”
More soul wrenching, insanity inducing silence, and I know his answer.
“I’m nobody’s damn mistake,” I manage to muster despite feeling every bit of the mistake he and Justin believe me to be. My mind is reeling from everything that has happened as I turn to leave. Pathetically, shamefully, I keep waiting for him to stop me, to call out my name and beg me not to go but he doesn’t, and pure becomes tainted, white turns murky, and innocence is only a fading dream. So it is with him; lines are blurred, gray becomes the norm, and everything I once held as absolute truth begins to wane. I can’t blame it on Breck. It’s my fault. I’m the one who isn’t strong enough, the one whose faith has been shaken. My entire world has been violently uprooted, tossed in the turbulent winds of a hurricane named Breck. I’ve been damaged…broken. Breck’s words come back to haunt me,
There’s a consequence for every choice you make.