So Many Reasons Why (16 page)

“Emma!” Mom gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Tears
sprung in her eyes. “You're turning into your grandmother!” I stared at her
shocked, then I began to laugh. Soon I was laughing hysterically, then I was
crying. Or laughing. I'm not sure. Mom sat, shell shocked by my behaviour. She
was not the least bit amused.

She was speechless.

She stood up abruptly, gathering her bag and jacket. “I will
talk to you when you have some more sense.” She spoke harshly, then marched to
the door.

“Okay, but bring gran next time!” I called out to the
slamming door. I couldn't resist. Gran would be on my side. I'd have to keep
Simon away from her though. I wouldn't put it past her to try something. I
texted Simon. We had unfinished business to attend to.

Two hundred and fifty seven. That was the number of little
roses that ran around the trim on the ceiling of my bedroom. I knew this
because I'd spent the past two hours counting them. I hadn't slept well. Too
many thoughts racing through my mind. Too many thoughts to try and process.
Today was the parole hearing.

I glanced at Simon, asleep next to me. The cream sheet was
draped over his lower back, his leg exposed. The blankets were pooled at the
foot of the bed, a sea of blue and green.

Sex with Simon was just wonderful. Simon was wonderful. He
rolled over beside me. I watched his chest rise and fall in rhythm with his
breathing. Even sleeping, this man was amazing. His face looked much younger in
the morning light, his chiselled jaw covered in stubble. He hadn't shaved in a
few days. I'd kept him too busy for that. He was biting his lip in his sleep. I
leaned in to kiss him. He kissed back me, surprised.

“What was that for?” He asked, half awake, amused by my
spontaneity. I shrugged, and kissed him again. This time I didn't pull away.
His mouth met mine in a long intense kiss. I snuggled up next to him, running
my fingers over his ribbed stomach, over his dark chest hair. God I loved his
chest hair. I put my nose to his chest and breathed deeply.

“What are you doing, you freak.” He mumbled laughing. His
eyes twinkled.

“Smelling you.” I answered matter of factly. “I love the way
you smell.” I breathed him in again, loving the scent of his sweat mixed with
aftershave and fresh sex.

“You are a strange girl.”

“A strange girl in love with a wonderful man.” I responded.
We kissed again. This time, his arm reached behind my back, pulling the covers
down.

“So, do you want kids of your own?” Simon raised an eyebrow
at my surprised expression. We were lying in each overs arms. We should have
gotten up hours ago. Lying like this together was too wonderful for either of
us to ruin. Now he had gone asking this. If the moment wasn't already ruined,
it would be in a minute. “Not now. I mean someday.” He added hurriedly.

My heart began to pound. I'd been waiting for this
conversation. In my head I'd gone over approach after approach. What to say,
how to say it.

Do I be completely honest, or answer vaguely, and work the
rest out later? I mean, this, whatever it was, was still so new. Who knew if
we'd still be together in a year, much less ten? What if he couldn't get past
this?

My life was so complicated, and he had been amazing through
everything. How much could I expect him to take?

Honesty.

I'd want that from him, so I owed him the same in return at
least.

“I can't have kids.” There. It was said. It was out there,
floating above me like a bad smell.

Simon looked confused. Then he seemed to get it. “The
attack.” He said softly. I couldn't help but notice the pained look on his
face. “My god the injuries you must have suffered.” He whispered hoarsely.

“Yes, the attack. I had some really severe internal injuries
which messed up much of my reproductive system. Even with fertility assistance,
there is next to no chance.”

“Are you okay, with that?”

“What's the difference?” I said. “Nothing I do will change
it. No matter how badly I want kids of my own, biologically, anyway, it's just
not going to happen. So no, I'm not okay with it, but what's the point?” I
repeated.

People were so quick to feel sorry for me, but that wasn't
going to change shit about the situation. It had taken me a long time to accept
I wouldn't have kids, but I'd never be okay with it. The best part was when
people tried to point out the positives, like 'oh well there's always adoption,
or surrogacy'.

What they truly didn't get was I'd never get to experience
the wonders of pregnancy. Adoption and surrogacy were certainly options I'd
look into with the right person, but I didn't need people telling me what the
upsides of my situation were. I couldn't bear my own children. There was no
upside to that. I glanced at Simon.

“Do you want more kids?” I asked. Only fair he should have
to answer too. He hesitated for the briefest of moments.

“I do.” He said honestly. “But it would take much more than
that for me to not want to be with you.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me
toward him. I resisted, annoyed at my body.

At myself.

Most of all I was angry that I would never be able to fully move
on from the attack. There was always something to remind me of what I could
have had. What was taken from me.

“I've researched your attack.” Simon said quietly. I glanced
at him, surprised. I thought I'd been pretty open with everything. It hadn’t
occurred to me that he might want to know more. “There were things I needed to
know, things you shouldn't have to relive.” I nodded. I could understand his
curiosity. I would have been too.

       “I have a friend in
parole. I know today is the hearing.” I nodded numbly. Of course he knew. I was
stupid to think I could hide that from him.  “I love you so much, Em. You
are such a strong girl. What you've been through-” His voice broke off. I saw
tears.

The hearing was set for 11:00am. In fifty minutes I'd know.

“Please don't pity me, Simon.” I begged. “I need your love,
and your support. I don't need your pity.” I was crying too now. “I don't want
you feeling sorry for me. A bad thing happened. But I can’t move on if people
won’t let me get past it.” My voice was rising. Years of anger was beginning to
surface, and poor Simon was in the firing line. He hugged me to his chest,
resisting my struggles to pull away.

“I fucking hate that cunt for what he did to you. But I
don't pity you. I envy you and your strength Emma. I just love you so
much.”  I relented, allowing him to hug me. In his arms I felt protected,
and loved. The oven buzzer went off. I reluctantly removed myself from his arms
and went to save my cake. Cooking always made me feel better.

“Simon?” I had a question. I focused on icing my cake as he
waited for me to speak. “How long. How long until he is out?” I didn't take my
eyes off the cake. If I looked at him, I'd cry. I didn't want to cry right now.

“Possibly a day or two. It usually isn't long until the
release. Could be as long as a couple of weeks though.” He came up behind me
and hugged me.

He had been the one to call Grant this time. Not me. As soon
as I saw his face I knew. I didn’t have to ask. The bastard had been granted
parole. It felt as though all of a sudden what happened to me didn't matter.
How could that kind of pain inflicted on a ten year old only mean ten years?
I'd never move on. And here he was, free to start his life over.

“Em, you can get through this. You know you can.” He held my
hands, his eyes steadily staring into mine, as if he was trying will strength
into me. Managing a small smile, I pulled him into my arms. Kissing him softly
on the neck, I began to believe for the first time that I would get through
this

Simon stood gazing out of the window as I loaded the dishes
into the dishwasher. I loved having a dishwasher. As much as I loved cooking,
I'd avoid it a lot more if it meant I would have to wash dishes by hand. We had
just finished eating a chicken casserole. Simon had stayed with me the entire
day.

“You have such a stunning view.” I looked up and smiled.
“Come over here.”

“No thanks. I am fine right here.”

“You don't go out?” He looked surprised. I shook my head.

“Never.” I admitted. I saw the look in his eyes. A challenge.
“The whole agoraphobia thing. The furthest I’ve made it is sitting with the
door open, on the inside” I added. Simon, now in front of me, grabbed hold of
my hands and guided me toward the balcony.

“We will stay right up against the window, and leave the
door open.” He promised, inching me toward the open air. My heart began to
pound in that familiar way.

“I can't.” I shook my head desperately, glancing around for
a way to get out of this. I tried to breathe deeply, knowing that is what my
therapist would say.

“Yes you can. Look at me.” I looked into his eyes. Focusing
only on him, I let him lead me outside. “You are so sexy Em.” He mumbled,
fiddling with my shirt buttons. His eyes didn't leave mine. I let him kiss me,
barely noticing my silk shirt glide past my shoulders. I felt the clasp of my
bra break free.

“Here?” I asked, alarmed. The touch of his fingers over my
breasts forced me to relax. His eyes still had not let my own.

“Em, it's nearly midnight. The only lights are those of the
city. I am trying to distract you.” His hand motioned to the sea of lights in
the distance behind him. “I want to be inside you. Now.” He rubbed my breasts
harder. God it felt good. I let him prop me against the wall. I undid his fly
and reached into his pants. He was so hard I could feel the blood throbbing
through his hardness. I stroked him, loving the way he looked at me when I had
him in such a vulnerable position.

“Not yet.” I whispered. His confusion cleared as I kneeled
in front of him.

“Oh god Emma.” He groaned as I took his length in my mouth.
I had become quite the little tart where Simon was concerned. I took his
length in my mouth, causing him to jolt back. The table scraped forward,
causing both of us to jump. I smiled up at him.

“I hope I'm doing it right.” I said innocently, batting my
eyelashes.

“Oh god Em. Don't look at me like that.” He gasped.

“Like what?” Again, blinking my eyes innocently, watching
him watch me suck on his girth.

“Fuck, oh god!” He yelled. He gripped the back of my head,
jamming his length as far down my throat as he could. I felt him convulse,
again and again, until my mouth was full of his juice. I flicked his tip until
he could take no more.

“Stop.” He begged, pushing me away. He slumped to the ground.
“Holy shit. You are such a little tease” He gasped. He wiped the sweat
beginning to drip down his temples away.

“So I did okay then.” I was unable to keep the smile off my
face. He raised his eyebrows and leaned in to kiss me.

“You know how much I liked that.” He pulled me over to him
so I straddled his body. My god he was still hard. He gently lifted me onto his
hardness. I gasped as my sex engulfed him. He groaned and rubbed my breasts. He
gently rocked me back and forth as I ground myself into him. He felt so good
inside me.

“Jesus Emma, what the hell are you doing to me?” He gasped,
rocking harder and harder. I felt the pressure inside of me build up with each
movement. I could feel he was close to blowing inside me, which made me all the
more worked up. “Fuck Em. Shit!” He cried. I gasped, my body spasming in sync
with his.

“Simon!” I cried, clenching my sex over his hardness, every
move creating a landslide of orgasmic pleasure. I collapsed beside him on the
ground, only my skirt still on. Simon still fully dressed.

“Hey, I'm outside.”  I whispered in wonder. I stared up
at the twinkling stars. “At least I can cross exhibitionist sex off my list
now.” Simon laughed loudly at my joke.

“You have a list?” He asked, amused.

“No.” I replied hotly. “I was joking.” I rolled my eyes,
knowing I was indeed not joking. I vowed to find a new hiding place for my
little pink notebook.

Maddie sat on the other side of the bench watching me
intently. Her eyes followed my every move as I layered the lasagne. Her pretty
little features screwed up as she pointed to the eggplant.

“Ew, what's that?”

“Eggplant. It's yummy, especially in lasagne.” I held a
little piece out for her to try. She stared at me for a long time, before
finally reaching out and grasping the piece in her little hand. Simon looked on
from the couch, amused.

“Mmm.” Maddie said, nodding her head.

“I can never get her to try new things.” Commented Simon
dryly. Maddie turned around and glared at him.

“That's because you're not pretty like Emma, daddy.” She
announced. Both Simon and I burst out laughing. “Emma says if I eat new things
it will make me pretty like her.”

How great would it be to be five years old again? I thought
back to when I used to stuff my sprouts in my socks during dinner when mom
wasn't looking so I didn't have to eat them. To this day, I'd never told her
that. I think even now she would freak out. I put the lasagne in the oven and
went to sit with Simon. I slid onto the edge of the couch, throwing my legs
over his. I put my feet in his face, wiggling my toes. I didn't care if they
smelt.

“Hint much?” He smiled, grabbing hold of my left foot. He
began to massage it.

“Oh god that is so good.” I groaned, closing my eyes. When I
opened them, Maddie was standing in front of me looking at me curiously.

“You look really happy.” She finally commented.

“That's because your daddy has magic fingers.” Maddie
giggled and danced around the room, wiggling her fingers. Simon glanced over at
me and raised an eyebrow.

“I'll show you magic fingers.” He mumbled under his breath,
loud enough for only me to hear. I believed it too, after what he'd shown me
last night and the night before. He started on the other foot, which of course
had me groaning all over again. Maddie continued to giggle.