Blazed (38 page)

Reluctantly, I sat up and let the blood slowly trickle back into my legs before I headed for my bedroom to find some fresh clothes. Over my shoulder, I watched Blaze gather himself together and comb some order into his hair with his fingers. Knowing he had a real comb in a drawer in the bathroom, thoughts of coming home to all his stuff made me feel weighted like lead, forcing me to sit down. I couldn't stand to see it all there when he'd never use it again, but I couldn't watch him pack it all up now.
 

"Are you going to be, um... busy, for long?"

"What?"

"Your stuff..." That was as far as the conversation went, because he hurtled into the bedroom and rammed back into me with his old sexual aggression until I'd ruined yet another bed set and came violently with a garbled string of expletives. Clearly he hadn't gotten the memo that sex stopped after the break up. Ah well,
 
c'est la vie.

IT WAS LATE when we finally pulled up outside Daniel and Jonathan's place. I'd quickly learned that reminding Blaze that he'd be leaving my flat permanently just got me a good fucking so took full advantage of it. I'd have been a fool not to, since my usual routine was so shot to shit that I was seriously considering his old celibacy habit. Not knowing how I planned to move forward from the moment he drove off, I figured I'd just start playing life by ear, the way I should have been for years. The heartbreak might just have been the best thing that could have happened to me.

Blaze grabbed my hand when I moved to leave the car and crammed the emerald ring into my palm. "This promise still counts."

"Blaze, I don't
—"

"Just the promise, Emmeline. You're not bending to meet my demands and I accept that, like I promised. I respect that you're being true to yourself."
 

"Okay..." I was actually sort of glad that he was giving it back to me. Considering all the truths it had provoked in such a short time, it felt almost like a lucky charm or some kind of talisman.
 

"I want to give you something. But I'll be clear and say that it's not a commitment, just a promise."

It was never about effectively collaring me or territorialism, just the promise. Not that he had a leg to stand on when it came to judging how I lived my life. By his own notion, it carried no responsibility to be permanently tied to him one day, just to honour a promise to accept myself. I could do that. I could wear it and hold my head up proudly, saying that I'd walked away because it was the right thing to do.

"Thank you. I really am humbled by the thought and effort you put into getting this for me last week. Really."
 

"You know, it's still Emmyday." I laughed a little through admiration of his tenacity. The corners of his mouth curved up though his face remained sad. I felt bad for being able to find anything to laugh about when he was so low.
 "It was worth a shot."

"Tell me that you're going to be okay." He looked beyond despair and so dejected it scared me a little. Finally, I could appreciate how it had been for my family when they had to watch me be patched up and tube fed. I could even appreciate why Hunter had been so angry.
 

"I'm going to be fine, Emmeline. I can't have it my way
— I get it. I need to go and do the right thing." 
Good.
 I hoped he'd man up and make his wife's last days happy and comfortable, and realise that she needed him to show her some compassion. She was more than just a bank account or a job, she was a victim who needed his care. "But don't think I've given up on you, Emmeline. Not for one minute. We still have plans for Christmas."

"Of course."
 

I humoured him for the sake of an easy escape and stole one last kiss before I climbed out of the car and watched him drive off. Our paths were no longer entwined, and no matter how brave a face I put on it, I'd be feeling the backlash for a long time. But I was proud of us both for doing the right thing, no matter how wrong it felt in that moment.

IF IT WASN'T obvious that Daniel and Jonathan were gay just from looking at them, it would have been obvious from their super-modern and freakishly sterile looking loft. It had a masculine base despite the men who lived there, decorated in only pale blues, pebble greys and black surfaces, with their top line electronics as a focal point in the lounge and bulky black leather recliners for gaming. But their girly side shone through in the large crackled glass vases holding long stemmed ornamental flowers and powerfully feminine canvases painted with oriental scenes of manga girls and geishas in bluescale.

I recognised the artwork; it was mine. Their home was like a living testament to my talent and I was still so proud to see it hanging up on every wall. The fact that they were there when I arrived unannounced like this was proof that they didn't just put them up for my benefit.

Daniel buzzed me into the building and rushed to greet me when I reached his front door. It was a welcome distraction to see him look so casual— barefoot in loose grey jogging bottoms and a 
University Of London
 sweatshirt when he so loved to suit up.

"I can't believe that still fits you." I took the glass of wine he'd poured for me from his hand and drained it in one mouthful. "Please tell me you have more?"

"Of course. I was warned." He followed me closely when I walked straight into his kitchen to find the rest of the bottle. I was glad to see the usual set up on his granite breakfast bar; several bottles of Chablis cooling in ice buckets, Belgian chocolates and 
Chicago
 on Blu-Ray, my secret shame. Daniel was such a mummy's boy it was disgusting, still receiving an allowance like me but choosing to spend it on little luxuries he stockpiled for occasions like these. They usually came at the hands of Hunter, but a broken heart and wounded ego was what it was and healed the same way however it was damaged. 

"No Jonathan?"

"He's working late, but what the hell happened, Emmy?" Daniel refilled my glass while I held it, shaking his head as the wine reached the rim. "Your boss called Chris just after you left work and he called us all to bollock us for letting our guard down. It's been hours and we— ... Oh." He smirked and sucked on his tongue to stifle a laugh. "You fucked him again, didn't you?"

I hung my head with mock contrition and pouted. "Yes, sir. Yes, I did. A lot."

"Oh Emmy. Never hump and dump."

"I didn't!" Setting my glass down on the breakfast bar, I held up my hands to declare my honesty. "I dumped
 
then
 humped. Every time I tried to remind him that he needed to take his stuff and leave, he countered by trying to lead me back onto the road to hell like Will o' the Wisp. Getting sacked off by a billionaire's daughter is an aphrodisiac, who the hell knew?" And now I was talking about it to an impartial observer, I was aware that the situation fucking sucked. That realisation that the only thing that had really made me happy in years had been a lie, and not even one I could bear to hold on to, finally set in now he was actually gone and the only way I'd see him was to hit a search engine, where I'd likely find all the pictures of us together.

Daniel rubbed my shoulder and pulled me by the wrist back into the lounge, where we plonked down onto the hefty leather couch, which was deceptively comfortable. I had my suspicions he'd put me there because it was waterproof. "Did he explain the wife?"
 

"Sort of..." I left him hanging for a minute, trying to figure out if there was any way to make it sound less awful than it was to, I don't know, defend Blaze's honour a little. There wasn't, so I lifted the glass to my lips and said it quickly before I sipped. "She's rich, dying and he's waiting for the pay out."

Daniel spluttered on his own wine and gaped at me, eyes boggling. "Wow. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I guess. I suppose I'm just being bent over and fucked by Murphy's Law as usual
— 'everything that can go wrong will go wrong'. We were never meant to happen and fate wasn't going to let it. I just know why now." But somehow, I didn't really feel like I'd gotten any closure at all. Blaze would still hang on and I'd still waste myself on 'what if's. What if I'd just stuck it out? What if I'd demanded he leave her? What if he made that choice himself? Would it ever make up for the fact he'd had the ill motive before?

WE sat in a reflective silence for a while. Daniel pulled my legs over his and snuggled into me, letting me rest my head on his shoulder until our glasses were empty again. I could relate to that feeling of having the void filled and watching it slowly drain out again until my purpose was redundant, but unlike that glass, it wasn't as simple as refilling me with any old vintage. Even when I was at the point of suicide, I'd not felt quite so useless. 

"Tell me I've done the right thing, Dan."

"You have, Emmy. I admire you for having the strength to do it. I think if Jonathan had thrown this kind of curve ball in my direction, I would have gone along with it and ended up getting chewed up by resentment."

"So why does it feel like a mistake?"

He saved his legs from underneath mine and padded into the kitchen for an ice bucket. "Because you love to love. It's just your nature. There are lovers, and fighters, and you ain't so hot at the fighting. Your love, once given, is selfless and unconditional, and for once you're doing something that's best for you. It was necessary but unusual." He threw the box of chocolates through to me and curled up on a foot stool with his legs crossed like Buddha. "Don't write off love yet. The world is your oyster, Emmeline Tudor— for that is your real name. And you know, while I may not be a huge fan of seafood, I do like having the option to be a pescatarian."

The metaphor made me smile. Friends and lovers would come and go, but I thanked my lucky stars that I had someone like Daniel as a permanent fixture in my life. Our matching rose quartz bracelets were
 
our
 promises to accept each other and we always had. In a strange totally crazy way, he was my first love before Hunter but I never had the driving inclination to sleep with him, even though we had given each other our virginities because we didn't want it to be too serious or with someone who didn't deserve it. Maybe that explained why my attitude to sex went on to be so cavalier. If it was, I didn't care. I loved Daniel with all my heart and I knew that the fact I was still around to tell him so gave him a lot of faith and hope.

"How did you get so wise, Dan?"

He frowned halfway through his bite into a chocolate and nodded his head towards a picture of him and Jonathan stood next to their unnecessarily large television. "Because I fell for the wrong man too, except the hot road into hell was the lesser evil in my case." That was true. It had been a massive scandal when their relationship was first discovered. The fallout was ugly. A lot of people lost respect for both men— respect that they were both still fighting to earn back. Of course Jonathan didn't have any mystery spouses hidden in the woodwork. He was just an older superior with a big heart. It made me happy to watch them prove everyone wrong when they said it was a mistake.

"I might be out of line in saying it, Emmy, but I'm glad you met Blaze. Like it or not, you've grown massively as a person because of him. I was scared to leave you on your own for a really long time, but I'm not any more. He's been good for you, even if he has turned out to be a massive bastard."

"He has," I agreed, "so what the hell do I do without him?" How was I ever going to keep myself strong enough to not pick up the phone and call him when I was having a bad day? How could I stop myself from thinking about what might have been when I looked at that ring, which I'd stupidly put back on the same finger? Would I ever stop wondering if he was still thinking about me, and what the hell would I do if he really wanted me to honour our plans for Christmas?

"You live, Emmy. You have us to look out for you. Just tell us what you need us to do to go on living."

"Right now?" Daniel nodded, rolling the stem of his wine glass between his palms while he waited for my orders. "Right now, I really want to watch 
Chicago
 and pretend that we don't know all the words."

He grinned. "You got it,
 
Roxy.
"

LIFELESS GREY EYES stared up at me, leaving only the look of dead panic. I was still smiling when I looked down at her and shoved the pillow back underneath her head. Her features still remained a mystery, but her eyes were just so... there, and I got a sense that they'd propelled all kinds of hate at me before.
 

She looked so small in that huge bed. One tiny life
— what did it matter if she was gone? She
 deserved 
to die...

GASPING, I LURCHED out of the bed in Daniel and Jonathan's guest room and staggered across the hallway to the bathroom. It had a been a night of too much wine, too much chocolate and too many musicals to top a day of too much emotional abuse, and consequentially, I looked like shit. My eyes were like huge craters in my pallid face, and my lips were starting to chap again. And so began another cycle of illness.