Love Letter Duet: The Encore Edition

by Callie Anderson

  “And where does that leave us?”

  “I want us to be together.” I looked down at my engagement ring that I’d put back on my finger. “I want to pretend these past few weeks never happened.”

  “But they did happen, Em.”

  “I know, and I'm sorry. I'll tell you everything. Anything you want to know, I promise, just please come back to me.” I bowed my head as a soft cry escaped my body.

  Jeremy's cool hands touched the bottom of my chin and lifted my face up to him. “I just want you,” he said softly, placing a chaste kiss on my lips.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck. Jeremy kissed my cheeks and temple as I wept, then held me in his arms until my crying passed. I looked up into his chocolate brown eyes and brought my lips to his. He had given me so much.

  His kisses were tender at first, so gentle they felt like feathers, but he soon deepened them, his mouth opened wider to claim mine. A shared whimper escaped our lips and Jeremy pulled back. I slowly nodded, the okay to make love to me. His hands wrapped around my thighs and lifted me off the couch. Jeremy kissed my neck as he walked down my hallway and towards my bedroom.

  He lay me softly on the mattress and stood. Discarding his shirt, he looked down at me with hunger in his eyes. I gazed at his long and lean torso as he undid his pants and slid his boxers off his body.

  He was perfect.

  I leaned back, and each article of clothing I lost was followed by a long passionate kiss. Jeremy moved slowly as he began to kiss a trail up my body. My mind focused on his lips.

  Jeremy.

  This was me letting go.

  This was me letting go of Weston and giving my heart and soul to Jeremy.

  I spread my legs for him, and his fingers traced small circles around my core until I was ready and panting for him. Jeremy continued rubbing his fingers as he sank into me. My back arched off the bed as he brought his lips down to my breast. I cried out needing more from him.

  Jeremy continued a slow deep pace. His hands gripped my body to hold me tighter with each thrust. I moaned forms of his name in ecstasy as my impending release began to build deep inside of me. Gripping his back, I dug my nails into his flesh as I lost all control. Jeremy continued his pace until my tremors passed. I buried my head in the crook of his neck and cried as he found his release. I didn't know if my tears were of love for Jeremy or hurt for saying goodbye to Weston.

  I convinced myself it was love.

  Jeremy rested on his elbow and gently moved my hair off my face. “You okay?”

  “I’ve missed you,” I whispered and brought my lips to his.

  He kissed me and spoke through our conjoined lips. “I’ve missed you more.”

  “Jeremy, I want to be honest with you. Weston and—”

  He lifted his hand to stop me. “I don't want to know.”

  “Jeremy…”

  “It's in the past. Let’s leave it there and focus on tomorrow.”

  I nodded. He was right. What Weston and I did would only break him and tear whatever shred of hope Jeremy and I had left. I'd leave it in the past, locked in my heart, and that's where it would stay. I deepened my gaze on Jeremy. He brushed a strand of my hair away from my face, his eyes filled with love. A love that was all for me.

  “Marry me.”

  “I said yes already.” I smiled shyly and brought my hand up to show him my ring.

  “No, this weekend.”

  “I thought you wanted a big wedding?”

  “I just want you.” He lowered his face and kissed my neck, tickling my skin with his tongue

  In the pit of my stomach, I felt he was rushing because he was afraid to lose me again. Guilt gnawed deep in my bones. “Okay.” I brought my lips to his. “But I need a dress, so can we make it at the end of the month? Plus, I want to invite my best friend. She lives in Chicago.”

  Jeremy pulled away and cocked his head to the side. “Best friend?”

  “Yeah, you'll love her.”

  “I love you.” He said with a big smile. I brought my lips to his and gave him my answer.

  I loved Jeremy. Not as much as Weston, but enough to be happy.

  Weston had a week off from touring, so we agreed it was a good time for him to officially meet Lyra. I told her she was going to meet mommy's special friend, someone who would become her best friend, someone who would love her. That seemed to make her excited for the big day.

  I suggested Lyra’s favorite park as a rendezvous spot since it was a familiar place for her. My sweaty palms slipped on the wheel I tried so hard to grip the closer we got to the park. But the moment I saw him, my heart slammed into my chest. Weston stood with his back leaning against his Pontiac GTO car when I pulled up behind him. I refused to let my mind recall the time I spent in that car.

  Lyra was singing along to the song playing in the car. I inhaled deeply and prepared myself for this meeting. I had repeatedly rehearsed what I wanted to say to Lyra about Weston, but now it all seemed like mushed words scrambled in my brain.

  With shaky fingers, I turned off the car and helped Lyra out of the back seat. A small smile swept across my lips as I admired her outfit once more—yellow shorts and a white shirt. It was Weston’s favorite color, so it seemed fitting.

  Her little hand gripped my finger as we walked towards him. She'd never know it, but her hold was keeping me from a panic attack. As we approached Weston, he slid his aviators off his face and shoved them in his pocket. His gaze never met mine; his focus was on Lyra. I stopped when I felt Lyra’s grip tighten around my hands.

  This was it.

  Outside, I was a calm, collected Emilia. Inside, I was a nervous mother and anxious ex-girlfriend. Chest pounding, I crouched down so I was eye level with my sweet daughter. “Lyra, do you remember when you asked me about your daddy?” Lyra nodded eagerly. “And do you remember when we were in the car on the way here and I told you that you were going to meet Mommy’s special friend who would love you very much? Well…” I looked up at Weston, who hadn't stopped staring at our daughter, his eyes full of awe. My heart suddenly warmed. “Lyra, this is your daddy.”

  Weston kneeled so he was now only as tall as Lyra. “Hello there.” He sounded cheerful. “Did anyone ever tell you that you look like a princess?” Lyra giggled and wrapped her arms around my neck, but those big eyes continued to focus on Weston. “And do you know what princesses wear?” Weston asked.

  Lyra shook her head and then looked at me to respond. “What does a princess wear?” I asked her.

  “A crown!” she replied.

  “Exactly!” Weston pulled out a tiara from his pocket. “Look what I found. I think this crown needs a princess.” Lyra’s eyes twinkled when she noticed the sparkling tiara. Unlike the plastic ones she had at home, this one was metal with stones that sparkled in the sunlight. Lyra released my neck and shyly walked towards Weston.

  “Can I put this on you?” he asked, his voice hopeful. Lyra nodded and a huge grin took over his face. As Weston slid the comb top of the tiara on Lyra’s head, he asked her, “Now, Princess Lyra, is that your castle back there?” He pointed to the empty jungle gym.

  Lyra’s smile grew from ear to ear. “I get my very own castle!” She jumped with glee.

  “Why don’t we go play in your castle?” Weston asked. Lyra looked back at me. I nodded and gave her a big smile. Lyra offered her tiny hand to Weston. He scooped her in her arms and bellowed. “My princess will not walk to her castle. She will be carried!” He twirled her around.

  The laughter that escaped her little lungs had me clenching my hand into a fist over my heart. This was every mother’s dream. It was as if they'd known each other their whole lives, as if she felt in her heart that he was her daddy.

  I found a park bench that faced Lyra and Weston and watched in amazement as they played. Weston chased Lyra as the mean dragon, and then she asked him to wait at the end of the twisted slide to catch her. It all seemed surreal, watching my daughter and her father play. I was watching th
rough a twilight zone what my life would have been like if I’d never kept Lyra a secret. My heart ached for a life I could have had, should have had, but I’d taken that away from the three of us.

  “Mommy, look!” Lyra shouted as she slid down the slide. A single tear dripped out of the corner of my eye. I brushed it away in time to see Weston catch Lyra and toss her in the air. “Higher, Daddy!” she shouted.

  I closed my eyes to remember this moment. The first time she referred to him as her father. God, please tell me I did the right thing by lying.

  In the twenty minutes they played together, Weston took the role of dad head on. I didn’t need to intervene. But I knew he’d be great at it. He’d always said he wanted kids. I shook my head and tried not to cry as my mind played the what ifs and maybe ifs game.

  What if I’d told Weston? Would he have been by my side when I pushed Lyra out? When the doctor placed her in his arms, would we have been a family? If I’d said something, would he have been there when I was teaching her how to walk? Would he have helped me through the late night feedings?

  “She’s an amazing kid.” Weston was now sitting to my left. He spoke to me for the first time. I blinked my tears away and sniffled. Lyra was running up the slide again, shouting for us to look at her do it on her own. Weston had dark circles under his eyes and his features were slack. He looked exhausted.

  “Are you ever going to forgive me?” I asked hesitantly, focusing on the way he smiled at Lyra from where we sat. Did I even forgive myself?

  “I do forgive you.” Weston waved at Lyra and then faced me. “It took me a while, but I see it now, why you kept her from me. Though it was selfish, you were right. We were kids at that time and I was living in a flat with five other men. There were drugs and women all over the place. I wouldn't have wanted that for her.”

  Weston's eyes dropped to my finger and I gulped, suddenly aware of the diamond shining in the sun. His head slowly shook as he mumbled words under his breath. My heart sped as I remembered each time I thought of him and me together, in this way, with a ring he'd given me rather than Jeremy.

  I hesitated for half a second, but the words spilled out of my mouth. “Tell me not to do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Tell me not to marry him.” I shifted my body so I faced him. “Tell me there’s still a chance for you and me.”

  I didn’t know if it was the possibility of us being together or seeing him with Lyra, but in that moment I wanted that life. I wanted him to scoop me in his arms and tell me I was his, that he was mine, that he wanted us to be a family. That everything in our past would stay there and we could start fresh. My chest constricted as I imagined the life I suddenly desired more than anything.

  “Emilia…” Weston said my whole name and my heart rate picked up.

  “Tell me and I'll call it all off—for you.”

  Weston bowed his head. “I'm staying with Chelsea. We're going to try again for a baby. I'm going to marry her, Em, and you should marry Jeremy.” His words forced the fantasy from my mind and slammed me right back to reality. I sucked in a sharp breath as he inhaled and focused his eyes on mine. “Because our love has always been broken. I can’t work towards a future when I dwell on the past.”

  Weston’s words wound deep into my soul. They sank deep inside my marrow. We were broken and there was no point in looking for a future when we would constantly, like he said, dwell on the past.

  I didn't respond to Weston, nor did we speak that day at the park again. He left the bench and resumed playing with Lyra until the sun began to dip in the sky.

  Our love story had come to an end.

  50

  EMILIA

  I paced around my bedroom as the phone rang in my ear. I nervously waited for her to answer. My nerves were coiled at the pit on my stomach. Leslie’s bubbly voice greeted me on the other side of the phone. “Hey, Chica.”

  “Hey, Les, you got a sec?”

  “For you I have a whole minute.” She laughed. “What's up?”

  “What are you doing the end of the month?”

  “Um, not sure. Why?”

  I inhaled before I blurted out the words. “I wondered if you wanted to be my maid of honor?”

  “Really?” Leslie squealed.

  “Yeah Jeremy and I decided to do it at the end of the month.”

  “Seriously?” Her toned changed in the blink of an eye.

  “Is that a yes? Because all you are responding with are questions.”

  “Of course it's a yes! But that gives us no time for a bachelorette party, bridal shower, none of that.”

  I scoffed. “It's a small, intimate wedding. Twenty people max. There’s no need for the other stuff.”

  “Count me in, but please don't make me wear a horrible green dress.”

  “Never,” I joked and the line went silent on the other end. “Les?”

  “I hate to do this,” Leslie huffed, “but as your MOH I need to ask.”

  “Okay…” My eyes scrunched. I had no idea where she was going with this.

  “Are you sure about this? You know—with Jeremy?”

  I sighed and closed my eyes. My hands pinched the bridge of my nose as I responded. “Yes.” I didn’t know who I was trying to convince—Leslie or myself.

  To my surprise, Axel took the news of my upcoming nuptials worse than when he found out I had a kid. Weston had told him about Lyra, which dumbfounded him. He called me shortly afterwards to ask why I’d never told him; that out of everyone he thought I'd at least tell him. But when I called him to tell him I was getting married, at the end of the month no less, I was shocked by his blunt outrage.

  “You're what!” He grunted and I heard muffled noises. “You can't marry that bell.”

  “Axel!”

  “You have a child with Weston. What the bloody hell are you doing shacking up with this fool?”

  “This is solely an invitation. I'm not asking you for permission, and you do not have to come,” I barked back.

  “I'll be there.” His voice had softened. “You don't even have to ask. I just want to make sure you're certain about your decision.”

  “I am, Ax, very certain.”

  The sun beamed down on my shoulders. It must have been the hottest day of the year so far. Stepping out of the limo, I inhaled the muggy air hoping that it would calm my rapid heartbeat.

  I handed Leslie my bouquet of pink peonies, so my fingers could grip the skirt of my long cream dress as I walked up the three cobblestone steps to the quaint church in Pasadena. It was the church Jeremy’s parents had married in and the parish Jeremy grew up in. Every step seemed like a mountain.

  Leslie handed my bouquet back to me as I dropped the lace skirt of my dress. Her warm smile did nothing to alleviate my anxiety. I stood tall and filled my lungs with extra air and letting it out slowly. My thumb reached for Weston’s ring. Twirling it with my thumb always calmed my nerves, but my finger was empty. My left hand only held my engagement ring. I had taken off Weston’s for the first time since he gave it to me, and I felt naked without it. It had been with me through everything in the past few years. Mama’s ring now had a new home. It was on a gold chain that I'd placed over Lyra’s neck. It didn’t seem fair for me to wear it any longer since there was no faith left. Inhaling the thick air again, I hoped it would calm the butterflies in my stomach.

  Leslie and I waited for the percussionist to play the church organ as our cue to enter. “Are you good?” Leslie brushed a curl away from my face. My hands were clammy and my heart felt as if it would implode in my chest at any moment. Was I good? No, but every bride had jitters before she walked down the aisle.

  I opened my mouth to respond to Leslie when I heard the revving of a car, his car. My lungs tightened as I gasped for air. My eyes closed for a brief second listening to the music his car was making.

  “Oh shit,” Leslie muttered under her breath.

  I snapped my eyes opened and looked towards the car. Cruising in our direct
ion was his Pontiac GTO. My breath came out in spurts as I realized Weston was headed towards me. He hadn’t lost faith in us after all.

  His car coasted down the street as if he had released his foot from the gas. I wanted to sprint towards him but my feet felt glued to the cement. My eyes locked with his, but where I expected to see happiness, determination or love in his eyes, I saw the opposite. My tears began to blur my vision. He wasn’t stopping. His engine revved and Weston drove past me.

  He drove past me.

  My head turned as I followed his car down the narrow street.

  He had given up.

  My bouquet slipped from my hands, my knees buckled, and my heart shattered into a million pieces.

  He had driven away.

  I cried out. The pain in my chest burned as I gasped for air. Leslie’s fingers dug into my arms as she held me up. I bowed my head and let a sob escape my lips. The realization of what had happened settled deep into my soul.

  “It's okay, love.” She ran her hands up and down my back.

  I bit down another sob and stood tall. “I'm fine.” I brushed away my tears. He’d come all the way here to drive away. I wouldn’t let him destroy what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life. The organ began to play as our cue that the procession had started. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  “Emilia, you can’t walk in that church.”

  “It’s done. There’ll never be a Weston and me. He had his chance to stop and I would have run to him. I would’ve started a new life with him, but he drove away. He came all the way here to drive away.” I leaned down and grabbed my bouquet from the ground. “Jeremy loves me and I know he will make me happy.”

  “Listen to what you are saying.”

  “Leslie, I need normalcy in my life and that’s Jeremy. So please walk down that aisle.”

  Leslie looked at me as though she wanted to say something else but she shook her head and cupped my cheek. She didn’t say a word. A faint smile appeared on her face as she inhaled deeply and pulled back the church door.

  I cried as I walked down the aisle, but the tears that flowed down my cheeks weren’t for the happiness I felt on my wedding day, and they weren’t for the man who would be my future husband.