by Evie Harper
I’m pissed. I’m beyond pissed. I’m not even sure if I should be, I just know I am.
“Emmy, I just need some space, that’s all. Time to think.”
That word space scares me to death. Worthless, used, pathetic. Those toxic words roll around in my mind but I push them away. No, that’s not what he thinks. They have nothing to do with who I am or this situation. I fight back the doubts and at the same time realize what he’s doing.
“Yeah, I understand. I hurt you and you’re trying to hurt me back.”
“Emmy,” Kanye whispers, his voice soft and sad as if he’s only just realized his actions have hurt me.
“Take all the space you need. Actually don’t bother coming home tonight. Why don’t you find some other woman who’s perfect in every way and forget all about me.”
I hang up the phone and stare at it. What did I just say? I close my eyes tightly. Damn it, I didn’t mean any of it. I’m so mad at him for leaving me hanging over this argument.
The image of a razor appears in my mind and I take quick steps to the bathroom. On my way in, I grasp hold of the sides of the entry with a death grip. “Don’t you dare do it, Emily,” I say out loud to myself. “You’ve come so far. Don’t ruin it. Be strong. If you do it now, every time after this will be harder and harder to stop yourself,” I mutter firmly to myself.
I move away from the bathroom and sit on the bed. My pulse thunders under my skin. My breathing comes out in ragged gasps. I don’t need to cut. I am strong. I can get through this moment.
This is just an argument. Couples have them all the time. This is normal; this is what I want. A normal life and a normal relationship where couples fight, because couples only fight as a result of caring so much about each other.
Ringing from my phone pulls me from my thoughts. I stand still and let the call ring out. I know it’s Kanye. I’m not sure what else he thinks we have to say to each other.
It’s rings again and this time I answer straight away. I want to hear Kanye’s voice. There’s no use even pretending.
I say nothing and wait for Kanye to speak. This time I hear no music, no people, just the sounds of the outside and cars.
“Emmy,” his voice is thick with emotion, but I’m not sure which one.
“I’m here,” I whisper.
“Why did you do that? Just throw me away to someone else so easily. Years ago my Emmy would have stormed down here and dragged my ass home if she thought I was getting hit on.”
“I didn’t mean those words, Kanye. I’m angry and hurt. I wanted you to come home so we could work this out, together.”
“And I want you to fight for us, Emily. I want you to want to be with me.”
“I do!” I shout into the phone.
“Yeah, ‘cause so far all I’ve seen is me fighting for us and you willing to leave me to get your revenge, and now you give me permission to go find some other pussy you know I don’t want.”
My eyes fill with tears. “I’m trying,” I plead into the phone. “I’m trying so fucking hard, Kanye.” I sink to my knees, sobbing into the phone.
“Fuck!” Kanye shouts over the phone. “Emmy, baby, I know you are. Jesus, I’m just so fucking pissed at you. When I saw those emails today, they killed me. You may as well have put a knife through my heart because reading you were going to leave me, killed me, Emily. It fucking destroyed me.”
“I fight for myself every second of every day. That means I fight for you, for us every second of the day. Please—” my words stall as my chest shudders through my tears. “Please understand, you mean everything to me.”
“Fuck, I fucked up. I fucked up, baby. I’m coming home now. I’m sorry, Emmy.” Kanye’s words come out strangled.
“I’ll see you soon,” I say softly.
Kanye curses into the phone right as the line goes dead.
I make my way downstairs and lie on the sofa to wait for Kanye. Only within a few seconds, sleep takes me.
***
I feel hands go under me and I’m being lifted. I open my sleepy eyes and see Kanye gazing down at me. His expression soft and his eyes apologetic.
He carries me upstairs in silence and I burrow into him, loving the sensation of his warmth. Home.
Instead of placing me on the bed, Kanye kicks off his shoes, sits on the bed and maneuvers his body backward, leaning against the headboard with me still in his arms. He adjusts his arms tighter around me and I find myself melting more into his body.
“Can you forgive me?” Kanye whispers into my hair.
“Can you forgive me?” I ask him back.
“Yes,” he breathes out. “Promise me you will never leave me. That you will never put your life in danger.”
“I promise,” I pledge firmly.
Kanye sighs and it feels like he released the weight of the world from his shoulders.
“I was worried you might cut,” Kanye says gently, his voice unsure.
I tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “I thought about it, but I stopped myself. I’m stronger now than I was before.”
“Emmy,” Kanye breathes out my name like a prayer, “I’m so proud of you.”
I smile up at the love of my life and he gifts me with a soft, beautiful smile of his own.
Finally everything is out in the open and we can move on.
“Things are looking up for the not-so-doomed Romeo and Juliet,” I joke.
Kanye’s soft smile turns into a blindingly bright one and he twists us on the bed until he’s hovering over me. He tickles me under my arms, I laugh out loud, and snort as well. Our laughter echoes around the room. He stops and we gaze into each other’s eyes, peace settles over me and a rightness in the world fills my soul. I’m staring at Kanye but in my mind I’m thanking God for sending me an angel of my own.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Giggling comes from the living room and I smile to myself as I place the remaining two slices of chocolate-iced vanilla cake that Sav and I made in the fridge.
I walk out of the kitchen and with an oomph, from a little person grabbing me around the legs, I peer down and see the sparkling brown eyes of my blonde-haired, gorgeous baby girl.
Giggling up at me, she says, “Daddy’s tickling me to death.” With a smile on her face, she says ‘death’ in a whisper like it’s a huge secret.
Kneeling down to her, I kiss her on the cheek and she puts her soft five-year-old hands on my shoulders. I whisper in her ear, “Well, maybe Daddy needs to be tickled to death,” She laughs and runs toward the sofa.
“Daddy, beware, Mommy and me are going to tickle YOU to death this time.”
I watch as Kanye jumps from the sofa fast and shouts, “Ahhhh, no, not to death.” He runs away from Sav, and I watch as they both run rings around the sofa. Giggling and a manly laugh intermingling into a beautiful song to my heart. The song of my family.
Kanye stops and turns on a laughing Savannah. She runs into his legs and proceeds to jump up and try to tickle him under the arms.
I enter into the huddle of laughter and tickling fingers. I give Kanye a push on his back and it takes him by surprise. He falls to the sofa with a bark of laughter. Then I climb on top, trying to pin his hands up above his head while telling Sav, “Quick, Sav, now, under the arms.”
Kanye struggles with his hands and he’s winning easily against me until Sav gets her tiny soft hands under his now clamped arm and lets out a loud boisterous laugh.
The poor man is so ticklish. If you can trap him while he’s down, he’s a goner. He can’t handle it and just keeps laughing until he’s out of breath. Which is what Sav means by ‘death’.
Sav continues to tickle Kanye and I watch as his loud laughter goes silent. Yep, the man can’t handle it at all.
“Okay, Mom, time to stop; he’s dead,” Savannah instructs.
I laugh loudly at my daughter and pull her up to sit in front of me on Kanye’s chest. Kanye takes a few moments of deep breathing and then he finally calms down. Sav and I are bo
th stare down at him with huge grins on our faces.
Panting, Kanye says, “Now that’s something I want to see every day, my two girls smiling down at me.”
Sav jumps from my arms and Kanye’s chest and stands next to us, pointing at Kanye. “I got you, Daddy. Bet you can’t catch me.”
With that she’s off and running out the back door hoping her father chases after her so she can continue this game she loves so much.
Kanye looks up to me with a big smile on his face. Then his face changes to alarm, and I instantly understand why.
We both scramble off the sofa and run for the back door, and at the same time we yell, “Don’t pull the roses out, Sav!”
A thump wakes me and I sit up in bed gasping for breath. I look to the sound and see it’s the curtain on the window, thumping backwards and forwards with the wind. I look to the bed and find I’m alone.
I inhale and exhale deeply, unsure why I’m panicked: the noise that woke me or the dream I just had? It’s was beautiful. I had a daughter, a beautiful daughter who had mine and Kanye’s mixed features. She was absolutely the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
I drop back down to the bed and stare at the ceiling for a few moments, going over every aspect of my dream. God, we were so happy. The little girl was so cheerful. She held no worry or concern on her face. She came to me for comfort, and I offered it easily.
One of my fears of having children is being able to protect them. How could I protect a child from the outside world when I couldn’t protect myself? Or showing them beauty when I sometimes struggle to see the word that way.
But this dream, this little girl, she created the beauty. Savannah. My heart cries out for a little girl who isn’t real. But she could be. Could I do it? Have a child and offer them everything they deserve. I know Kanye could, would, in a heartbeat.
I’m becoming stronger every day. This could be a real possibility. A family. I could still have my dreams; my future may not be dead after all.
I lie in bed for over an hour thinking of my dream and the little girl who has taken over my mind and heart in such a short time. I notice I don’t hear Kanye moving around downstairs and realize he must have gone out. I throw the covers off me and spot a note on Kanye’s bedside table.
Didn’t want to wake you, you looked like you were having a good dream. *Wink, wink.* It was about me, hey?
Gone to lunch at Applebee’s with a friend. I’ll be home in a couple of hours.
Lunch? I scan for the clock and find it’s eleven am. Wow, I really did sleep in.
A friend? Must be one of the guys. But I can’t wait. I want to tell Kanye now I’ve changed my mind; that I may want children. No, I do want children, one day. I want what was in my dream, for the both of us.
I’m in such a good mood. I dig around in my underwear draw for a push up bra I know is one of Kanye’s favorites. A soft pink, push up bra with frills. I grin to myself while putting it on. I can’t wait until Kanye sees it when he’s taking off my clothes later.
I pull on denim jeans and a blue drape tee. It’s not low cut, but my push up bra has definitely lifted my boobs up high and they are pretty much saying hello to everyone. I laugh to myself because I can imagine this being the first thing Kanye’s eyes notice.
I race down stairs, put my sandals on, grab the keys and my bag, and lock the house up.
Ten minutes later, I’m driving into the restaurant parking lot. I park right next to the big Applebee’s sign with a huge red apple on it. I spot Kanye’s truck and smile widely, happy he’s still here.
I hop out with a huge grin on my face and my heart ready to burst with excitement. The more I think about my dream and what I’m going to say to Kanye, the more ecstatic I’m becoming.
Five months ago, this was never a possibility, feeling these emotions, smiling. The simple act of being excited. I’m so happy, ridiculously happy.
I practically skip to the door, and then I freeze as I’m passing the windows. I zero in on Kanye in the restaurant, laughing. With a woman. A woman I don’t know and have never seen before. My heart picks up its pace and I tell myself to calm; there’s an explanation for this.
I stare at them through the window and the woman laughs. I examine everything about her. Her light, thick blonde hair, almost white, is tied up into a high bun on her head. Her face is soft and inviting. She seems to be early thirties, Kanye’s age. She’s wearing a black business dress with a black belt around the middle. I can easily tell she has acrylic nails as she waves them around while she speaks to Kanye. My man.
What’s he doing having lunch with another woman when he told me he was having lunch with a friend?
I step back from the restaurant window, not wanting to be seen and feel even more of a fool if they see me staring at them.
Did Kanye realize I’m not worth fighting for? Did finding out about my hidden secrets yesterday finally push him away for good? Worthless, used, pathetic. I take slow steps toward my car staring at the ground, trying to make sense of this situation.
Friend, lunch, secrets, pathetic.
With a steel cased, heavy heart, I walk over to my car. My heart throwing itself around in my steel box, bruising itself, wanting to get out and go running to the man I love and claim what is rightfully mine.
I arrive at my car and stare into nothingness, thinking over the possibilities. Kanye came home last night. We talked and we made love.
There’s no scenario in this world that the Kanye I know would turn to another woman five years ago and definitely not now.
But what if he saw how worthless you are?
No! Stop, those aren’t my own thoughts; they aren’t my doubts. They were put there by an evil men who won’t win. I won’t let them take Kanye away from me. I need to fight. I need to do exactly what Kanye asked me to do last night. I need to fight for us. If I walk in there and find out my worst fears are true, then I’ll walk away with my head held high. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m strong, a fighter, a survivor. I need to start being proud of myself, instead of hard on myself. That starts now.
I glare toward the restaurant with determined eyes. I’m going to fight for Kanye and fight for my dream. I damn well deserve it. I deserve what everyone else is able to have.
I storm across the parking lot, searching for Kanye through the glass and find him still sitting with the woman.
I throw open the restaurant door hard and walk through with purposeful strides. I step past the waiting area and straight to Kanye and the mysterious woman’s table.
Kanye spots me and stands from the table quickly. Guilt written all over his features. My heart twists at seeing the guilt and what it could mean. Kanye starts to speak, but I extend my hand, palm up to us face, in a gesture that says stop. I turn to the woman and proceed to tell her exactly what is going to happen.
“Hi, my name is Emily. I don’t know who you are, nor do I care, except for the fact, that you are having a secret lunch with my boyfriend. Now, you need to understand Kanye is not on the market; he’s mine. So you need to take your fake nails and probably bleached hair and run along, now.” I wave my hands in an off-you-go-now gesture.
She glances from Kanye to me with a confused expression.
“He’s not going to help you.”
I turn to Kanye while saying this and my next words stick in my throat as I observe the guilt is gone from his expression and now a grin is on his face. “So, so, just run—”
I narrow my eyes and I place my hands on my hips, not happy that he’s smiling at a time like this. “What?”
“Emmy, meet Cassie, she’s going to design you a photography studio. I was going to surprise you with it the day before construction started. But it looks like you caught me in the act,” Kanye explains and puts his hand to his mouth in a fist to stop his bubbling laughter from escaping.
I’m frozen, staring at him, afraid to look at the woman I just insulted.
I raise my hands and cover my face in embarrassment.
“Oh, my God,” I say through my muffled hands.
Kanye lets out a laugh and pulls me into his arms. I wish I could just disappear into his body.
Instead, I turn to Cassie and breathe out a sincere, “I’m so sorry.”
The woman is sitting back in her seat, not smiling, but not angry either. She’s regarding me I think, so I decide to keep talking, well, rambling really.
“You see, this was my big moment. My moment to prove I will fight for my relationship with Kanye.” I point to the front of Applebee’s. “I just had a major breakthrough out there. In. Applebee’s. Parking lot.” I speak each word carefully. “I never saw that coming!” I end with a hysterical laugh.
The woman’s face finally shows some sort of expression. She smiles and stands; she extends her hand out to me. “Nice to meet you, Emily. I’m Cassie from Johnson Designers. I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you and your photos. I’m looking forward to designing the perfect studio for you.”
My smile grows wider and I take her hand and shake it. “Me, too, Cassie.”
“How about we reschedule this meeting for another time, Cassie, a time when you can come to the house and talk with both Emmy and me. I need to take this sassy woman of mine home, right now.”
Kanye turns to pick up his wallet from the table and I glimpse him readjust his jeans. Ooh. I know what this means. I’m about to get lucky because I claimed my man and fought for us.
“No problems at all. Just call my receptionist and she will set up an appointment for you.” Kanye and I nod and Cassie smiles as she leaves the table.
I slump down in her seat and stare up at Kanye. “I was such a bitch.”
He grins back at me and says, “A fucking hot bitch. Don’t get comfortable; ass in your car, now. After that claiming, I need to have you, hard and fast. Fuck, like right now.”
The air grows intense, crackling with passion and need. My heart thumps wildly against my chest and my pussy throbs with the need to have Kanye inside me.
I jump from the table and Kanye takes my hand, leading me out of the restaurant, both of us walking quickly.