First Love

by Amy Brent

  I didn’t even realize how tightly I’d clung to those memories until just now.

  “I’m good. I just need to take a shower and sleep,” I said.

  “Well, next time we have a girl’s night, we’ll do wine and movies,” she said.

  “Go home and see Logan. I know you’re worried.”

  “I will. I’ll let you know how things go with you know who,” she said.

  “He who shall not be named,” I said, winking.

  I watched her pull away before I walked into my house. It was weird, coming home to absolutely no one. No smell of cologne to waft up my nose. No squealing little girl running around with her bouncing curls. No frazzled babysitter to pay or messes to trip over.

  Just nothing.

  I traipsed up to my bedroom as I slowly peeled my clothes off. I threw them into a pile on the floor and lay down naked, feeling my breasts flop against my body. They had stretch marks from being full of milk when I’d breastfed Sarah. My thighs jiggled with dollops of fat she’d placed on my body when she was growing. My stomach had tiger scars. Long red and purple stretch marks that ricocheted into my skin and folded over onto themselves.

  But when those beautiful blue eyes popped into my head again, I was the tight, perky, innocent teenager I’d always been.

  My hands traveled down to my breasts, tweaking my nipples as I keened for him. I pictured his pouty lips around my tits, his eyes staring up at me as he watched my skin flush with pleasure. I felt the warmth of his body cascade down mine as his mouth traveled to my pussy, parting my folds and finding that beautiful swollen center.

  My fingertips began to circle lovingly, envisioning his dexterous tongue working my body as my legs started to tremble for him.

  I thought about how he took my virginity and about how selfless and genuine he had been. He’d kissed me through every pain and relaxed my body before he’d inch in. My legs began to tremble and dart as my fingers picked up their pace. My pussy juices began soaking my hand as I thought about the muscles pulling Brandon’s shirt taut in his office. How strong he must be. He could probably pin me to the wall and fuck me senseless. Have me quivering against him as he pinned my hands above my head.

  I imagined him marking me. Taking me from behind as he sucked patching of skin between his teeth on my back. I thought about how my ass would jiggle for him as he tugged on my hair, wrapping his hand within my long tendrils while he moaned my name.

  My back arched off the bed as my mind swirled to how he kissed me. How he brought me to orgasm the very first time with nothing but his cock. His lips had been swollen from our make out session. He’d marked my tits and caressed my body with his tongue. His mouth had swallowed my groans as my body shook for him. A sheen of sweat broke out on my chest as his name began pouring from my lips.

  “Brandon. Yes. Fuck, lick that pussy. Brandon. Yes. I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

  My toes curled, and his name choked off my sounds. My pussy began to clamp down as my fluids covered my skin. I pressed down into my clit, feeling my body contract with pleasure, and as I went plummeting back to my bed, I saw his smile swirling around in my memories.

  His kind, beautiful smile that had promised me the world.

  I knew exactly what I was going to start with Monday afternoon, and I fell asleep in my own wet spot as I dreamed of the numerous ways I’d let him use my body.

  Chapter 11

  Brandon

  I woke up Monday morning with a bit of a pep in my step. Today was the day I would see Melissa again, and despite what we talked about during her first session, I was honestly happy to see her again. I wanted to talk with her and to learn more about why she was feeling this way. My heart ached for her, and every single atom of my body truly wanted to help her. I wanted to reach in and pull out the happy, bubbly teenage girl I knew was still deep down within her.

  But first, we had to peel back years of layers in order to find her again.

  The patients I had that morning simply dragged on. With each passing patient, I grew more and more impatient. I needed to be able to set my feelings aside if I wanted to help Melissa, so when my two o’clock canceled, I was glad for the alone time. I took out the file I had on her and began reading over it, centering my mind for the next conversation that was about to take place. I tried to focus less on what she might be wearing and more on how I could possibly help her.

  I’d asked all the questions I needed to ask her. Now, it was simply the task of getting her to freely talk to me.

  Finally, three o’clock rolled around, and like clockwork, she knocked on my door. I hopped up from my chair to answer my door, and I couldn’t help staring. Her beautiful black hair was in its natural curl today, and I wanted to reach out and touch it. Her pencil skirt hugged her in places she most certainly didn’t have as a teenager, and I had to take deep breaths as I ushered her into my office. Her hips swayed with this unassuming femininity as her blouse fluttered around her womanly breasts. It took every ounce of energy I had to rip my gaze from her and place it back into my notepad.

  “So, Melissa. How did your week go?” I asked.

  “All right,” she said, grinning. “Tried to get out with a friend a bit this weekend. Left my daughter with her grandparents for the first time in a very long time.”

  “With your parents?” I asked.

  “No. Carl’s.”

  Her answer was curt, and I made a note of that. Her parents were still a sore spot, and it was something I wanted to touch on and unpack at a later date.

  “So, how did the outing go?” I asked.

  “I mean, it was okay. I wasn’t exactly comfortable with the place Ava took me. She’s my best friend who works at the same company I do,” she said.

  “Why were you uncomfortable?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Drinks and dancing isn’t my scene.”

  “I would’ve never taken you for one of those girls anyway,” I said, grinning.

  I saw her clam up, and I knew I’d stuck my foot in my mouth. I had to get this conversation back on track, so I decided to turn the subject back to something we attempted to unpack last week.

  Her husband.

  “Tell me more about Carl,” I said. “How did the two of you meet?”

  “In a bar, ironically,” she said, giggling. “I was there because—”

  She stopped her sentence and gave me a wary stare. I knew what was coming. I knew she was about to dive into the shit that happened between us when we graduated college. I knew it would come up eventually, but I didn’t realize that stuff intertwined with her late husband.

  Holy hell, I was an idiot.

  “Go ahead, Melissa. Right now, I’m your doctor,” I said.

  “I was there because I was grieving us. I was heartbroken over realizing you’d gotten married, and I was crying in a drink when he met me. He sat there and listened, even offered to give me a ride home after he bought me another drink. He was very kind, and I gave him my number so he could let me know he got home safe that night.”

  “Sounds like the two of you needed one another,” I said.

  “We did. He was good for me. He helped me pick up the shattered pieces that you left behind and fit them back together. They might not have glued together perfectly, but the holes that it left he filled in with caulk and repainted over. I lo-loved him for that.”

  I watched her bow her face toward her lap again, and I tugged at my tissue box. I slowly placed a few in her palm, pressing them into her skin and holding it just for a second. I needed her to know I was here and know I wasn’t angry. She had every right to feel the way she did. I wanted to know everything. I wanted to help her. Even if it meant only holding a patient-doctor relationship, I found myself wanting to do everything I could to get her back on track.

  “He taught me how to love and how to be happy after heartbreak. That man was my savior, in many ways. And then he died. We had this beautiful daughter and built this perfect home, and then life decided I wasn�
�t worthy of it. Life decided I had to be tainted somehow. That heartbreak had to somehow play a role in my life,” she said.

  I sat there and watched her cry, and my heart broke. I had to hold back tears of my own as I watched her wipe at hers. I wanted to reach out to her, to take her hand and tell her how sorry I was. I wanted to hold her beautiful body in my arms and tell her what a wonderful woman she had blossomed into and tell her she didn’t deserve to feel the way she did.

  So, I decided to talk treatment options. I was confident enough that I could start her on something that would make her feel better, but her kickback was more than I thought I would get.

  “I don’t want to take medication this soon,” she said. “Not just yet.”

  “But medication could really help you,” I said.

  “Aren’t there other things we could try first? Like, I don’t know, vitamins or time off work or something?”

  “Melissa, depression is a chemical imbalance in the brain. There are things you can do to live a healthier lifestyle, but most people respond to treatment better with a mixture of both.”

  “Then can we start with the healthy lifestyle instead of the medication? I mean, I came off all mine this week, and I haven’t slept as much as I should. My mind is everywhere, and it’s hard to get to sleep.”

  “What are you thinking about when you can’t sleep?” I asked.

  I watched her blush, and I knew exactly where her thought process was. It wasn’t uncommon for people to come off medication and feel a spike in their libido. Many of these medications had side effects of dampening sexual drives, so when someone gets pulled from their medication regimen, it can throw them in the exact opposite direction.

  “How about this? There are things I advise, such as working out and vitamin D supplements. For some people, if they don’t get enough sun, it can contribute to rising severity issues with depression. If you don’t want to exercise outside, then get an all-natural vitamin D supplement and work out inside. Something like Zumba or yoga. These are easy on the body but gets your blood pumping and gets you moving. We can try that for a couple of weeks, chart your sleep patterns, and see how you feel,” I said.

  “Thank you, Brandon. Really,” she said.

  I shivered in my seat as my name rolled off her tongue. It was sweeter than I ever could have imagined, and I smiled as I looked down at my notepad.

  “Do you have any hobbies?” I asked.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because this is also where I advise my patients to either indulge themselves in a hobby as well or to pick one up. Do you have a hobby you enjoy?”

  “Not really. Just taking care of Sarah and working,” she said.

  “Pick up a vitamin D supplement, work on a yoga or Zumba regimen, and find a hobby you might enjoy. Take ballroom dancing classes or make time to read. Do you read the way you used to?” I asked.

  “Not in a very long time.”

  “Those are your three tasks for this week, supplement, yoga four times a week, and indulging in a hobby that helps relax you, one that might even bring a smile to your face,” I said. “In the meantime, I’m going to give you my personal cell phone number.”

  “Oh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” she said.

  “No, no. I do this with all my patients who are starting a new regimen. If you start feeling overwhelmed or overly depressed or even suicidal, call me. Immediately. If I don’t pick up, leave a voice message. I’ll call you back, and if I have to make a house call, I will.”

  I scribbled my number onto my card and handed it to her. I wanted her to use it. I wanted her to call me. I wanted to pick up my phone and hear her voice on the other end of the line. I sat there and watched as she punched my number into her phone, saving it before she put the card in her purse. She turned her eyes to me, and I could see just a small glint of happiness there. A small flickering flame that didn’t seem as dim as last week’s appointment.

  “Same time next week?” I asked.

  “It’ll be best for me, yes,” she said.

  “I meant what I said, Melissa. Anytime you need to get ahold of me, just call.”

  “I will, Brandon. I promise.”

  Then I watched her leave. I watched her hips sway lightly with each step she took as her blouse fluttered around her torso. I watched her hair blow behind her as she walked down the hallway, her shoulders slightly slumped like she was carrying an entire world upon her shoulders. I wanted to chase after her, sit her down, and talk with her until she cried it all out. I wanted to hold her tonight and meet the beautiful little girl she had created. I wanted to show her the beauty this world still had to offer while I held her hand tightly within mine.

  But I settled for watching her get into her car from the window of my office as she drove off down the road.

  Maybe she would need me sometime this week, and if she did, I would be there.

  Chapter 12

  Melissa

  Tuesday was a fucking nightmare. I couldn’t get Brandon and the way he got personal with me in our session off my mind. It was like it effortlessly slipped from him. He wanted to know. He wanted to know how he had impacted me. He sat there as I talked about how my husband healed me from the wounds he caused, and he listened like a gentleman.

  Or a doctor. Or whatever the fuck was happening.

  It felt easy, talking to him like I was talking with my best friend. In some ways, it was easier to talk with him than it was with Ava. I talked about what I wanted to talk about. I told him how heartbroken I was over what he did. I told him about how it shattered me. I told him that I went to bars and cried into my drinks, and maybe that’s why I didn’t like them anymore. Maybe bars reminded me of how I was once broken, cast out and rejected by the first man I had ever truly loved.

  I couldn’t concentrate on any of my work. Every time I checked my calculations, I always came up with something different. Every time someone called my name, I imagined it in his voice. I’d melted into his couch every single time he had said my name at that appointment, and I knew the moment I plugged his number into my phone that I was traveling down a bad path. I felt like a lovesick girl who was pining over the hunk in school. Except this hunk had broken my heart in one of the worst ways possible.

  “Earth to Melissa. You there?”

  “Sorry, Ava. What were you saying?” I asked.

  “Nothing, that’s the point. I’ve got lunch, and you’re staring at your desk. You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m just thinking. I had my appointment yesterday with Brandon,” I said.

  “Was it bad?” she asked as she sat my salad in front of me.

  “No. Not at all. I got to tell him how much he hurt me, and how Carl came by and healed everything he had broken.”

  “Wow. How did that shit feel?” she asked.

  “So good,” I said. “He actually looked as if he felt bad. And he was genuinely interested. He told me he wanted me to get some vitamin D drops, start yoga, and take up a hobby. Possibly reading like I did when I was in high school.”

  “I like that he isn’t doing medication first,” she said.

  “Oh, he wanted to. I told him no,” I said.

  “Well, good for you! And fuck him,” she said.

  I speared a bit of my salad as Ava’s eyes danced around my face. I could tell she was clocking me, reading me like a book as I reached for my water. I cracked the bottle open as her eyes stayed locked onto my face, and finally, I broke and began to spill everything.

  “I’m just so confused, Ava. And stressed in a completely different way. You know I actually put on some mascara for that session? Mascara, Ava! I didn’t even realize I still owned any.”

  “I noticed you were a bit dressed up yesterday as well, too,” she said.

  “I have no idea where any of this is coming from. I was looking forward to that session, and he kept pressing tissues into my hands and making our skin touch.”

  “He’s touching you in your sessions?” she as
ked.

  “Not intentionally and not like that. It’s just that rehashing all this stuff with those baby blue eyes looking at me. It’s …”

  “Dredging up old memories?” she asked.

  “In some ways, I come away from our sessions feeling crazier than I already do,” I said.

  “And that’s completely understandable. Just know you can switch doctors. I’m sure he will more than understand,” she said.