“It’s okay, Mama,” she promised. “It’s okay.”
But she was wrong.
It wasn’t okay.
And I wasn’t sure if it ever would be.
That night, it began to rain. For a while I sat in my night robe, just watching the deluge of raindrops hitting hard against the ground. I cried with the rain, unable to hold myself together. Emma was sleeping in the other room, and Tristan allowed Zeus to stay the night with her.
Make it stop, I begged my heart. Make the pain go away, I pleaded.
I crawled out my window and over to Tristan’s. I was soaked within seconds, but I didn’t care. I tapped lightly on his window, and he wandered over, shirtless, staring at me. His arms held the edge of the windowsill, showcasing his toned arms.
“Not tonight,” he said, his voice low. “Go home, Elizabeth.”
My eyes still burned from all the crying. My heart still hurt from all the longing. “Tonight,” I argued.
“No.”
My fingers wrapped around the string holding my robe together and I untied it, dropping the fabric to the ground, standing in the rain in only my bra and panties. “Yes.”
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, sliding his window open. “Get inside.”
I did as he said. A puddle of water formed around my feet, and I shook from the cold. From the hurt. “Ask me how I want it tonight.”
“No.” His voice was stern, and he wouldn’t make eye contact with me.
“I want it like you love me.”
“Elizabeth—”
“You can do it hard, if you want.”
“Stop.”
“Look at me, Tristan.”
“No.”
“Why not?” I asked, walking close to him as he turned his back to me. “Don’t you want me?”
“You know the answer to that.”
I shook my head. “You don’t think I’m beautiful? Am I not as pretty as her? Am I not as good as—”
He shot around and placed his hands on my shoulders. “Don’t do this, Elizabeth.”
“Fuck me, please…” I cried, running my fingers against his chest. “Please make love to me.”
“I can’t.”
I hit his chest. “Why not?!” I cried, my vision becoming blurry. “Why not?! I let you touch me when you wanted her. I let you screw me when you needed it. I let you…” My words faded off, becoming sobs. “I let you… Why not…”
He grabbed my fists, stopping me from pounding all my anger against his chest. “Because, you’re broken. You’re extremely broken tonight.”
“Just make love to me.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because, I can’t.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Yes, it is,” he said.
“No, it’s not. Stop being a coward. Just tell me why not. Why the hell not?!”
“Because I’m not him!” he shouted, my body shaking in his grip. “I’m not Steven, Elizabeth. I’m not what you want.”
“You can be, though. You can be him.”
“No,” he said, sternly. “I can’t.”
I shoved him. “I hate you!” I shouted, my throat burning as tears fell against my lips. “I hate you!” But I wasn’t talking to Tristan. “I hate you for leaving me! I hate you for leaving me. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.” I lost myself in Tristan’s arms.
I fell apart in a way I’d never experienced in my life.
I shook, I screamed, and a part of me died.
But Tristan held me, making sure not all of my soul disappeared that night.
18
Elizabeth
I waited two weeks before I could face Tristan again. I was embarrassed, ashamed of the way I’d broken down in his room, but when he called me over to talk about the possibility of me doing the interior design for his home, I felt as if I had to suck up my fears.
“Are you okay? You seem off,” Tristan said as he walked Emma and me through his house. I was still so extremely uncomfortable with what I’d done, the way I’d fallen apart in front of him.
“No, I’m fine,” I said. “Just taking everything in.” I gave him a fake smile he saw straight through.
“Okay, well, you can do pretty much anything you want with the place. There’s the living room, dining room, bathroom, my bedroom, and the kitchen mainly. And I would love for the study to not look like a complete mess.”
I walked into the study, where boxes were stacked on top of boxes. His desk was covered with items, and as he walked Emma and Zeus out of the room, I stayed paused, staring at a receipt partially hidden under some paperwork. I picked it up and read it.
Five thousand white feathers.
Overnight shipping.
I opened one of the boxes on his desk and my heart skipped as I saw more bags of feathers. He hadn’t found the white feathers at Mr. Henson’s shop. He’d ordered them. He’d ordered thousands of them, just so Emma’s heart wouldn’t be broken.
Tristan…
“You coming, Elizabeth?” I heard him shout. I closed the box and hurried out of the room.
“Yup, I’m here.” I cleared my throat and gave him a smile. “What about your shed? I asked, catching up to Tristan. “I can fix that up for you too.”
“No, the shed is off limits. That’s…” He paused and frowned. “It’s just off limits.”
I narrowed my eyes in understanding. “Okay…well, I think I’ve got everything I need for now. I’ll draw up some different ideas and make some boards with fabrics and colors for us to go over together later on. I better get going.”
“You’re in a hurry.”
“Yeah, well, you know.” I glanced over at Emma, who was playing with Zeus, living in her own world. “Emma has a sleepover tonight that I have to get her ready for.”
Tristan stepped closer to me and spoke softly, “Are you angry with me? For the night you came over?”
“No.” I sighed. “I’m angrier with myself. You did nothing wrong.”
“Are you sure?”
“Truly, Tristan. You held me when I needed you the most.” I smiled. “But maybe it’s best we don’t use each other to remember anymore… Obviously I can’t handle it.”
He frowned and looked at the ground, almost as if he were disappointed, but within a second he held his head up and gave me a small grin. “I want to show you and Emma something.”
He led us to the back of the house and held the back door open. I listened to the nightly crickets chatting amongst themselves. It was a comforting sound…peaceful even.
“Where are we going?” I wondered out loud.
He nodded toward the darkened woods as he picked up a flashlight from the back hallway. I didn’t ask any more questions. I grabbed Emma’s hand and walked beside Tristan. We walked into the night and he led us deeper into the woods.
The skies were star-filled and the sweet, wet spring air greeted us as we stepped in and out of the shadows between the trees. The branches swung back and forth as we pushed our way through the woods. “We’re almost there,” Tristan insisted.
But where?
When we reached it, I knew instantly that it was where he wanted to take us, just based on the beauty. My hands covered my mouth to keep from making any sound. There was this odd fear that if I made a peep, all the beauty would vanish. A small river flowed before us. The stream was quiet, as if all the creatures who traveled by the small waves were resting peacefully. Across the river lay what seemed like an old stone packhorse bridge. Through the cracks of stones flowers were growing, making the view perfect under the moonlight.
“I found this place with Zeus,” Tristan said, walking over to the bridge and taking a seat. “Whenever I need to clear my head, I come here to refocus my mind.”
I sat beside him, took off my shoes, and slipped my feet into the chilled water. Emma and Zeus splashed in the water joyfully, freely.
He turned and gave me a smile that made my own lips turn up. Tristan h
ad a way of making people feel worthy just by the way his smile and eyes met their face. I wished he smiled more often.
“When I first moved out here, I was angry all the time. I missed my son. I missed my wife. I hated my parents, even though I shouldn’t have. For some reason I found it easy to blame them, as if it was their fault that I lost my wife and son. It felt easier to be mad at them than to be sad. The only time I didn’t feel angry was when I came out here and breathed with the trees.”
He was opening up.
Please stay open.
“I’m glad you found something that can make you feel a bit of peace.”
His eyes danced across me, and a knowing smile found his lips. “Yeah. Me too.” He ran his fingers against his beard, which was growing in fast. “Since we aren’t using each other anymore, you can use this place if you want. To help you find peace.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
He simply nodded in response.
Emma jumped into the river and made huge splashes, pretty much soaking us all. Even though I wanted to scold her, the smile on her face and the excitement in Zeus made me happy.
“Thanks for bringing us here, Tick! I love it!” she shouted, tossing her hands up in excitement.
“Anytime.” Tristan smiled.
“I’m glad my daughter likes you. Otherwise I would’ve never spoken to you again.”
He laughed. “I’m glad my dog likes you. Otherwise I would’ve been convinced that you were a psycho. A person should always trust their pet’s instincts. Dogs are better at judging the character of a person than people are.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.” He paused and ran his fingers through his hair. “Why does your daughter keep calling me Tick?”
“Oh… Because the first time we met I called you a dick, and she asked what a dick was, and seeing as how I’m an awful parent, I’d told her I said tick, and explained to her that a tick is a bug.”
“So she thinks I’m a parasite that lives on the blood of mammals?”
“I think it’s actually an ectoparasite seeing as how they live on the outside of the mammals as opposed to in the interior. And they live on some amphibians, too.”
He snickered. “Well, that makes me feel better.”
I laughed. “It should.”
“Well, Emma, if you’re going to call me Tick, I think it’s only right for me to call you Tock!” Tristan smiled.
“Like a clock!” Emma beamed, jumping up and down. “Tick and Tock! Tick and Tock!”
“I think she approves,” I said.
“Elizabeth?” He turned my way with a serious stare.
“Yes?”
“I know we can’t do what we were doing before anymore but, can we be friends?” he asked timidly.
“I thought you didn’t know how to be a friend?”
“I don’t.” He sighed, rubbing his neck. “But I was kind of hoping you could show me.”
“Why me?”
“You believe in good things, even when your heart is broken. And I can’t remember what good things are like.”
That saddened me. “When was the last time you were happy, Tristan?”
He didn’t reply.
That saddened me even more. “Of course we can be friends,” I said.
Everyone deserved at least one friend they could trust with their secrets and fears. With their guilt, with their happiness. Everyone deserved a person who could look into their eyes and say, “You’re enough. You’re perfect, scars and all.” I thought Tristan deserved that more than most, though. In his eyes he held such sadness, such pain, and all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around him and let him know he was good enough.
I didn’t want to be his friend because I felt bad for him, though. No. I wanted his friendship because unlike most, he saw past my own fake happiness and he would sometimes stare at me as if he were saying, “You’re enough, Elizabeth. You’re enough…scars and all.”
Tristan’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked at me as if he was seeing me for the first time. I stared at him as if I would never see him again. Neither of us wanted to blink. The seriousness of the moment started making us both uncomfortable. As he cleared his throat, I cleared mine. “Too much?” I asked.
“Too much indeed. So, on another note…” He ran his hands through his hair. “I noticed a certain Fifty Shades of Grey book in your hands when I last cut the grass.”
My cheeks reddened, and I shoved him. “Don’t judge me, it’s for my book club. Plus, it’s good.”
“I’m not judging. Okay, well, I am. Only a little, though.”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” I smirked.
“Oh? And how much of it have you actually tried?” He gave me a smug look, and I swore my cheeks were on fire.
Snickering, I started walking back toward our houses. “You’re such an ass,” I muttered. “Come on, Emma, let’s get you cleaned up and get you to your sleepover.”
“You’re going the wrong way,” Tristan remarked.
I paused, turned around, and walked past him again, going the opposite way. “You’re still an ass.” I smiled. He smiled back and walked beside me as Emma and Zeus followed our lead.
It was ten-thirty at night when I heard the banging. I dragged myself out of bed to answer the door. Susan was standing there with her arms crossed beside Emma, who was still in her pajamas, holding her overnight bag and Bubba.
“Susan, what’s going on?” I asked, alarm filling me up. “Emma, are you okay?” She didn’t reply; she just stared at the ground, almost embarrassed. I turned back to Susan. “What happened?”
“What happened,” she hissed. “What happened was that your daughter thought it was okay to tell stories about zombies to the rest of the girls, making them all freak out. Now I have ten girls at my house who won’t go to sleep because they’re afraid of nightmares!”
I frowned. “I’m sorry. I’m sure she didn’t mean any harm. I can come over and talk to the girls if you want. I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?” She huffed. “She started walking like the walking dead and said she wanted to eat brains! You told me she didn’t suffer any trauma from Steven’s death.”
“She didn’t,” I said, anger building in my stomach. I looked down at Emma and saw tears falling from her eyes. Bending down, I pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay, honey.”
“Well, obviously she’s not okay. She needs professional help.”
“Emma, honey, cover your ears really fast,” I said. She did. My insides tightened and I stood tall, facing Susan. “I’m going to say something and I mean this in the nicest way possible. If you say one more thing about my daughter I will literally kick your ass, pull out your hair extensions, and tell your husband that you’ve been screwing the checkout boy at the grocery store.”
“How dare you!” she cried, horrified by my words.
“How dare I? How dare you think it’s appropriate to walk up to me and tell me things about my daughter in such a rude, demeaning fashion? I think it’s time for you to go.”
“I think it is! Perhaps you should stay away from our book club, too. Your energy and life style is toxic to our group. Keep her away from my Rachel,” Susan ordered, walking off.
“Don’t worry,” I shouted. “I will!” There was something that happened to the sanest people when others talked about their children: you turned into a beast and would do anything and everything to protect your children from the wolves of the world. I wasn’t proud of the words I’d said to Susan, but from the bottom of my heart, I meant every single one.
I walked Emma into the living room and we sat down. “Mama, the girls said I was a freak because I liked zombies and mummies. I don’t want to be a freak.”
“You’re not a freak,” I promised, pulling her closer to me. “You’re perfect the way you are.”
“Then why did they say that?” she asked.
“Because…” I sighed, trying to fin
d the right answer. “Because sometimes others have a hard time embracing people’s differences. You know that zombies aren’t real, right?” She nodded. “And you didn’t try to scare the other girls, did you?”
“No!” she said quickly. “I just wanted them to play with me as the characters from Hotel Transylvania. I didn’t want to scare them. I just wanted to have friends.”
My heart is breaking.
“You want to play with Mama?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Well, how about we watch a cartoon on Netflix and have our own sleepover?”
Her eyes lit up, and the tears stopped. “Can we watch Avengers?” she asked, loving superheroes almost as much as her father had.
“Of course,” I said.
She fell asleep right as the Hulk appeared on screen. I placed her in her bed, kissing her forehead. She began to smile in her sleep, and then I went to bed to find my own dreams.
19
Elizabeth
“Tristan,” I faintly muttered. My breaths were uneven, heavy.
His hand brushed against my cheek. “Suck it slow,” he ordered, running his thumb against my bottom lip. He slid his finger into my mouth, allowing me to suck it gently as he rocked it in and out of my mouth before pulling it away from me and running the wetness down my neck, against my bra strap, down my cleavage. My nipples were hardening from his touch, longing for his mouth to find its way to each one.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
“We shouldn’t,” I moaned, feeling his hardness pressed against my panties. We should, I thought to myself. “We’re not supposed to do this anymore…” My breaths were heavy, hungry for him to be inside me, hungry for him to take me deeply. I wanted him to turn me around, lift my legs, and take me hard. He ignored my protest—as I wanted him to—twisting my hair in one hand and moving his other down my body, landing at my black lace panties.
“You’re wet,” he said, bending in closer to me, running his tongue against my cheek before he slipped his mouth over mine. He whispered as he slid his tongue between my lips. “I want to taste all of you,” he hissed. His fingers rolled against my panties, my breaths catching as his thumb circled my clit through the faint fabric.
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