Emerge into Forever

by Andrea Michelle

  My mind is a cluster-fuck. I hadn’t drunk a thing tonight, watching her warily as she drank herself into oblivion.

  I leave the room. It’s not safe for me to be in there. In the kitchen I rummage for something to kill this desire. To make me forget how badly I want her. To remove the urge. Make me sleep.

  I grab the Jägermeister and skip the glass altogether. I sit at the kitchen table immersed in images of her, memories we’ve shared together. Drinking straight from the bottle until my vision blurs, and the warmth in my chest is enough to burn away the coldness from losing her, if I ever had her at all. Mission accomplished. I’m more than drunk.

  I stumble my way to the bathroom. Shit. I trip and catch my fall against the wall. Where the fuck did the bathroom move to? God, I don’t remember it being so far from the kitchen. Finally, I find it. Whoa...I look like hell. My head is a jumbled mess as I stare at this stranger with my eyes.

  I pull off my shirt and stare at the scar that sits on my rib cage—the one that my dad left when I was younger after he threw a punch at me with a belt buckle wrapped around his fist. I stare at the tattooed words that cover it—lasciarlo andare, Let it go in Italian. I trace the letters and wish I could do just that. I never can, though.

  “You are a fuck up, a nobody worth loving. Even your own mother left you.” My mouth tells my mirror image. Words my father told me over and over until I believed them enough. Until he left me, too.

  I fall back against the wall as tears burn my eyes. Defeated, I slide down to the floor with my hands on my forehead. The room is spinning. I’ve lost everything. Her to him, my baby to death, my mom to bruises, my dad to booze and me to HELL!

  I have no idea how long I sat there stuck inside of my misery until I succumbed to sleep right there on the cold hard tiles of my bathroom floor. Broken and empty. At least I left the razor out of it this time.

  I was having the best dream. The fact that I thought it was amazing scared the living shit out of me.

  I climbed into bed where I knew she was sleeping soundly. Careful to not make a sound, I cuddled next to her side, until she made a whimper that made me crave her. Her warm skin against my bare chest invited my hands to explore her. She had no idea how much I needed her—how badly I wanted to lose myself in her forever. I lowered her panties down her legs and crawled up her body feeling every inch along the way. She opened her eyes, a strangled gasp escaping her beautiful lips—lips I needed to taste. I smothered her cry with my mouth. I invaded her mouth with my tongue and created my own wicked dance I couldn’t stop.

  Her hands pushed against my chest, her body resisting me. Not this time. It’s my fucking dream. I get what I want. I didn’t care that I was hurting her. I didn’t give a damn that this was wrong. It was too late to stop this dream. It had invaded my brain in such a real way. Everything about her despair, her fear, the shiver that shook her had my head spinning in want.

  I pinned her hands painfully above her head with one of my own. I was sure to leave bruises from my tight grip. I had already removed the barriers between us; nothing was keeping me from taking what should be mine. I said awful dirty things to her.

  “Please, stop!”

  “No, Dean. God, stop. I don’t want this.”

  “No, no, no”

  Her words pleaded with me over and over as I pushed my fingers into her sweet warmth. I ignored her cries for me to stop. It’s just a dream. All I had to do was act like it was real. Tomorrow, I would wake up and know she would never let me have her. Take it—take what she should have given you years ago, my demons demanded of me. She tried to fight me, she wasn’t making this easy, but it’s to no avail. I was stronger than her.

  She felt amazing, tight and delicious just like I knew she would. Thrust after thrust with my fingers made me groan and want to bury my cock so deep into her, relishing in the feel of her body beneath mine. She got really still, her eyes dripping with wetness and squeezed shut as she hummed a melody, no longer fighting me, surrendering. I removed my fingers and brushed her entrance with myself, ready to take what should have been mine. The phone on the bedside table rang—her phone. The realness of that sound slammed into my dream state.

  I took a deep stilted breath, letting my forehead rest against hers. I hated the feeling that I loved this dream where I hurt her. I froze when she had begun to tremble and sob.

  I lifted my head to look down into her eyes that were wide with fear and shock.

  What the fuck?

  My skin prickled. My stomach sank when I tried to shake my head to wake myself. My insides were coiling tight in revulsion. No, no, no! WAKE UP! I didn’t want this part of the dream—the part where her eyes climbed into my soul and made me hate myself for hurting her. Wake up.

  I looked over at her phone and saw Josh’s name on the screen as her phone continued to sing, All of Me. This wasn’t a dream. This was—I almost. OH, DEAR GOD.

  I jumped off of her like she burned me and scrambled to the trashcan by my desk as I emptied my stomach. Oh, fuck!

  I turned to look at her practically naked form in my bed. What did I do? She’s curled up in the fetal position and crying. No longer a dream. It’s no longer a dream.

  “Riley? I’m so sorry. I...fuck! I...”

  I what? Don’t remember what just happened? Thought I was dreaming? Didn’t mean to almost rape you. Oh, God! I don’t even remember coming in here with her. Why did I come in here? Why did I bring her here?

  CHAPTER 2

  Tainted touches that can’t be removed were what I was left with. My heart broken into unrecognizable pieces. Dean, God—why did I ever go with him? I never should have trusted the devil.

  I was so sleepy—so very sleepy. I don’t even remember leaving the party. But then like most memories when you’re that drunk, bits float into your mind like little glimpses—fragments you try to grasp, but aren’t quite sure what you are grabbing at, or if you want to. Glimpses I wasn’t sure were real. Everything was black with pops of color in between.

  Lips touching mine in the car. I felt lips on mine. Josh’s lips, I thought? Except they weren’t, they couldn’t have been, because he wasn’t there, because he left me. He promised to never leave me, to always be there, but he broke his promise to me.

  Dean’s voice, I remember his voice.

  Preslee? A camera. A feeling that she took our picture—Dean’s and mine, but why?

  I was freezing—so cold.

  Dean’s lips. His lips against mine, his voice telling me he was, Josh. Confusing me. I was so confused.

  Stumbling around in his room as he watched, but he was protecting me—taking care of me. He was sweet.

  Dean, he had me in his arms, the look in his eyes when he woke me. His breath and the disgusting vulgar things he said to me. He was no longer sweet.

  I was sleeping so soundly having the sweetest dream of a different life than the one that had consumed me for months. I was unaware that Dean’s hands would wake me into a nightmare. I felt his warmth beside me and I moved away—he moved closer. His hands were touching my skin and waking me from my drunken slumber. His lips were on my neck and then other places. I pushed him back as my eyes fluttered open to find him naked and all over me. He had my panties removed and was—Oh, God. This can’t be real. This can’t be real. I thought it over and over, but it didn’t change—he never disappeared.

  “I’ve always wanted to be inside of you, baby. To climb inside of you and rip you apart—fucking ruin you like you have ruined me. This is your fault, you tempting bitch. This is what you do to me—tease me and then tell me, NO. Well, I’m done playing tit for tat. You make me fucking crazy mad. I love you. I hate you. I love you. You’re mine.”

  I begged him to stop. I hit him until he grabbed my wrists painfully and pinned them above my head with one of his hands. His grip so tight, I was sure he’d leave bruises. I tried to fight, to push against him and away from him. He was just too strong. He wasn’t being gentle. He wasn’t being sweet. I squeeze
d my eyes shut and pleaded with him to stop. He didn’t. He wouldn’t. He kept saying horrible things to me. I knew he was going to ruin me and take from me something I would never give him willingly.

  Eventually I gave in, feeling so tired and weak. I began to hum to block out his sounds as he touched between my legs with his fingers. I went to a place in my head that’s special to survive the pain. I remembered moments at the lake with, Josh. Me on the swing with him laughing at something I said. I imagined the look in his eyes when he was mine and I was his. The touch of his lips on mine, the first time he made love to me. I remembered every memory like flashes of my life before my eyes. Josh was my life. A life I lost somehow, but still loved and wanted so much more than anything in this world.

  My phone rang next to us just in time. Dean was so close to claiming more than he already had. It seemed to startle him and he looked at me confused. He blinked his eyes rapidly and climbed off of me as I choked back on the sob and softly gasped when he released my wrist. I don’t know how long it had been, several minutes, an hour, an eternity—but he ruined me without even fully touching me. Any touch was too much. This would become a scar. His hands never belonged there.

  He looked over at my phone and then down at me like I disgusted him. He left me there, a shell of who I used to be. He threw up nearby as I cried. Then he took my phone and left me in fear alone in his bed. I searched the room for my clothes and found none of my garments. I hurriedly threw on the panties that had been on my body and were discarded to the floor. My head felt foggy still from all of the alcohol. I had no idea where my clothes had gone, or what time it was. I just knew I had to leave. It was dark outside. I stood from the bed and was ready to bolt when a sudden wave of dizziness hit me. Black spots clouded the corners of my eyes and colors swirled in and out of focus until I saw nothing but dark.

  “Riley?” I hear his voice next to me, pulling me out of the darkness. Could it all have been a nightmare? Please, let that be the truth.

  I flutter open my eyes to find Dean sitting in a chair next to the bed—watching me—twirling a knife in his hands by the handle. “Confused?” he asks in a foreign voice with lost, desolate black eyes that are so unlike his normal chocolate brown ones. “Me, too.”

  My eyes must be wide like saucers as I see the knife. I look up into his eyes as a tear falls down my cheek onto the pillow. My chest is squeezing too tight. It’s hard to breathe. I grab the blanket and pull it over my body as I press my back into the corner of his bed, as far away from him as I can get. How did I end up back in his bed? I was running away. I—

  “I didn’t plan this, you know? Bringing you here.” His voice interrupts my muffled memories. “I thought I’d just bring you home, do the right thing. Fuck it up a little more for you and Josh, but then I kissed you in my car, and you passed out. Something shifted inside my head, and I changed my mind.”

  He takes the knife and touches the tip of it to the palm of his hand. He seethes as he pushes down just enough to draw a trickle of blood. I gasp again, pressing my hand to my chest. My pulse is racing.

  “It would be so easy to inch this further down and end this. End me, right here in front of you, maybe end you, too—take you with me. Even in death, we wouldn’t be together, though. Angels go to heaven and I’m no angel, but you are…at least to me.”

  I choke on a sob that is soon to overtake me. I’m beginning to panic. My hands feel clammy. I’m staring at him, but can’t seem to really see him.

  “I won’t hurt you, not like this. That’s too easy. I deserve to feel this pain and so do you.” He places the knife on the nightstand. “I didn’t mean to almost,” he clears his throat and looks away, “hurt you last night.”

  Almost? Doesn’t he know that even what he did hurt me?

  He meets my eyes again. “The thing is I watched you fall asleep in my bed and it made me feel crazy, so I left you alone. I drank a lot in hopes of sleeping, to not think of you in here, in my bed wearing nothing but your bra and panties. I don’t know why or how I even came in here. I didn’t realize what I was doing, but it doesn’t matter because I did it. I almost raped you, and saying sorry doesn’t change that.”

  He takes many deep breaths looking anywhere but at my eyes. I don’t understand.

  I shake my head to erase the memory of last night. I am trying to remember how I went from running away to waking up in his bed. I realize he’s talking to me, and I attempt to focus on his words again. “I found you on the floor and put you in my bed.” He answers my unasked question. “I wasn’t sure if you passed out, or fell asleep. Either way, I sat here staring at you, wishing it were just a nightmare. It never is for us, though. It’s always real. It’s always a hell to live in when you’re involved.”

  He opens the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out an envelope. He places it in his lap, staring at it, touching it while frowning. “I gotta say, I didn’t expect Josh to give up on you so easy, and then I read this and realized he didn’t.”

  What? Read, what?

  My eyes widen and I tilt my head to the side, surprised and confused. “It’s no surprise you don’t know. I’m sure you thought he forgot how much Valentine’s meant to both of you.” His eyes were cast down, looking at the envelope in his hands. “He didn’t,” he says, locking eyes with my scared ones.

  “He left it for you, but I intercepted it. Do you want to know what it says? How you’ve ruined us both?”

  I look away from him as more tears fall. I can’t even speak. The lump in my throat is too thick.

  “No?” he whispers with a raised brow. “Well, that’s a shame. He really poured his heart out on these pages.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut as I hear him open the envelope—the crackle of the paper causing my heart to skip beats. The realization that he’s about to read Josh’s words to me become a noose around my neck strangling the air from my lungs.

  Dean, the one I hate more than anything is going to taunt me with words from the one I love more than my own life. This is my penance. I deserve this pain. I did ruin them both. I ruined me. I feel the bile burning the back of my throat.

  I’ve had my eyes squeezed shut this entire time, but that opens them. I look to Dean and he nods his head. “It’s true. I did.”

  Josh never trusted me to be here alone without him. I know that now. He doubted me the entire time he was gone. That realization stabs me in the heart painfully. I was his. Just his. Why didn’t he know that?

  I am a sobbing mess, tears blurring my eyes. The words so beautiful—coming out of a mouth so hateful—so cruel, it’s too much. I’m choking on the tears. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.

  Dean stands and stares down at me coming undone and he laughs. He fucking laughs. Both cruel and bitter. “Hurts, doesn’t it? When the one you love can’t see your pain. I loved you, too. I love you, too. I hate you more, but I fucking love you.” This isn’t love. This isn’t love.

  The bed indents as he sits down in front of me. Eyes locked with mine, he says, “I figured out that I must have a cold spot, or something. Because for a moment I had empathy for your pain, but now I just blame you for mine.” My mouth falls open. “Just like you to be shocked that someone else feels things, huh?”

  He puts a photo in front of my face, and I blink away the tears to see it. It’s Josh and I as little kids. I’m wearing my Tink costume. Sitting in the grass with a shaggy hair little boy, eating a chocolate pudding cup, a melted ice cream sandwich to the side of us. Our first moment together captured. I knew that day he was my best friend.

  Breathe. Just breathe.

  His hand drops it like it’s nothing; then he touches my lips.

  Please, god. Please save me. Not again.

  Josh! Josh! I love you. I love you.

  Scream, dammit. Say something. I can’t move. My eyes are frozen in fear with his. His index finger traces my bottom lip. I’ve clamped my mouth shut so tight my teeth ache. His gaze bounces from my eyes to my lips and back again a few time
s before his hand falls away.

  He takes a deep breath that makes his nostrils flair and puffs it out. I squeeze my eyes shut when he speaks. I hate what I see in his eyes. “I wondered how you would feel—all of you against me. I knew if you and I had just one moment together, that you would see how good we could be together. I didn’t expect it to be the way it almost happened. I was wrong anyway. We will never be good together, because I am no good and you are just—broken. You took everything from me. All I wanted was someone to love me. I almost had it with Preslee until our baby died.”

  My eyes slowly open and blink rapidly. I find his glassed over.

  “The one thing that could’ve been mine died, a piece that never would have even existed if it weren’t for my constant hatred and love for you. It always comes back to you. That baby wouldn’t have cared I was a fuck up. He or she would have unconditionally loved me. I can’t even have that. Why can’t I even have that?” he asks softly in a watery voice.

  He runs his hand into his hair, pulling on the ends and looking up at the ceiling. He slowly turns his head and casts his sad eyes down on me. “Is he right? Did a part of you ever care for me? Did a part of you love me at all? Because a part of me loved you, loves you, I think.” He looks into my eyes that I know are swollen and red, searching for something. I don’t know what answer I should say. What will save me? Nothing will save me.

  I shake my head, no and wipe at the tears on my cheeks. “I cared about you, but I never loved you, not like that.”

  His eyes squeeze shut and a tear falls from his eyes. “Because you love him?” His voice so soft hurts me. Why is it that seeing him hurt me makes me feel pain?

  When he opens his eyes, the bleakness has returned along with the hatred he has for me. “Well, maybe now you won’t be able to forget me, the way I can’t ever seem to forget you,” he says in one deep breath. “I hate myself for hurting you, but I realized it’s your fault. You make me this crazy. You put yourself in this position.”