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Back to Life Page 21

by Danielle Allen


  “I honestly thought you all hated me and I understood why you would. I understood completely. But I couldn’t take having it confirmed. I couldn’t take hearing you say it,” I mumbled almost inaudibly.

  A quiet stillness settled over us as the gentle rumble of chatter from the smoking patio wafted our way. My eyes watered with tears as I took his silence as a confirmation of his hate-fueled feelings for me.

  Emanuel stood up and walked the 5 feet over to his motorcycle. As he walked, I allowed my eyes to travel the length of his body. Unexpectedly, memories flooded my mind and I brushed them off as quickly as they appeared. It wasn’t quick enough as a longing for him ignited. I crossed my legs and looked away from his body and over to his motorcycle.

  Unlocking and unzipping a pouch like compartment on the back of the bike, Emanuel pulled out a small object and walked back over to me. His eyes were a stormy grey as they pinned me still as he got closer. Again, my mind flooded with inappropriate thoughts from the past that his sexiness caused to resurface.

  “Stand up,” he commanded, his voice low as he peered into my every thought. Not breaking eye contact, I stood without question. “Give me your hand.” I put my hand in his instantly.

  Holding me hostage with the way he looked at me, my heart fluttered and then jumped as his warm hand was replaced by a cool, smooth, square object that covered my palm. I forced myself to look down at the foreign object—a clear glass encased a white rectangle. I flipped the object over and gasped. Oh! I thought as I felt nostalgic energy pull me closer to Emanuel.

  I stared at a glass laminated photo of me and Emanuel from a wedding we attended back in late April 2003. I hadn’t seen the picture before, but I recognized the dress I wore to James and Lidia’s beach wedding and the way the sun looked setting in the horizon. Emily always uploaded all of her photos to her computer soon after she took them, but between classes, finals, and parties, I never got around to viewing the wedding pictures. Looking at the picture, memories came rushing back to me. I remembered we had started laughing at something Emily had said before she snapped the photo. I was looking at the camera and Emanuel was looking at me. We looked carefree and happy and in love.

  Peeking at him through my lashes, my heart pounded in my chest. When we made eye contact, I knew he had been watching me the entire time I stared at the photo. He looked at me with so much familiarity and passion. He knew me. He knew my pain. He knew my joy. He knew my heart. And the way his eyes bore into mine, it was as if he could see my thoughts. I took one shaky breath after another as I became increasingly aware of the lack of space between us and the way his tongue slowly moved across his lips.

  “Sahara, do you know how long I’ve had this picture?” Emanuel’s voice was low as he pierced me with his gaze.

  I felt like I was in a trance as I slowly shook my head no.

  “I’ve had this picture since the day after the wedding. I had Em email it to me so I could get it printed. This is the only one I had her send me.” He spoke slowly and deliberately.

  “What?” I whispered. I wrapped my fingers around the protected picture and held it to my chest.

  As if reading my thoughts, he answered, “I didn’t get this picture after I found out you were gone. Or after the trial. Or even after helping my family put the pieces back together after losing both you and your dad.” Each of his statements held more bite than the last. I flinched at his last sentence and my eyes welled with tears. He ran his hands through his slick black hair and exhaled sharply out of his nose. “I got this picture after I finally admitted to myself that I was in love with you.”

  Emily had said he was in love with me earlier, but hearing him say those words made me feel faint. I spent the majority of my life pining away for him, comparing men to him. And the moment I truly let myself get close to another man, Emanuel says the words I longed for him to say. My breath hitched when I asked, “You were in love with me?”

  “Yes Sahara!” Emanuel’s voice sounded exasperated and he shut his eyes tightly. He seemed frustrated.

  I furrowed my brow and raise my free hand to his chest. A beat passed and I clutched the slightly worn glass to my chest while he eyed me with a mixture of emotions that seemed to straddle the line between love and animosity.

  “Since—since when?” I struggled to get ahold of my breathing.

  Running his fingers through his perfect hair again, he revealed, “I’d always liked you Sahara.” His tense facial expression didn’t change, but his voice softened. “But when I came home from studying abroad junior year…something was different. I missed you differently than I missed everyone else. I don’t know how to explain it and I didn’t at that time either so I wrote it off. I mean, it was the end of summer; we were all about to start a new semester at Delta Southern, so I just figured it would pass. But it didn’t. And when we almost kissed during Thanksgiving break…” He closed his eyes and licked his lips as if he were reliving the moment. “I regretted not kissing you, every day since that day.”

  He shook his head and opened his eyes. “But with basketball practice and games and international team practice combined with work and classes. It was a lot and I was shy so I didn’t say anything. But being with you at that wedding Sahara… I knew that night that I was in love with you.”

  “I didn’t know,” I murmured softly. I didn’t know what to say to take the look off of his face so I just told him the truth. “You were my first love Emanuel. I loved you the majority of my life. You were it for me. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  He blurted out harshly, “Had I known the night of the wedding I only had two weeks to work up the nerve to tell you that I was in love with you, I would have. But I didn’t have any forewarning about being in a coma only to wake up to the news that you were gone. Never to be seen again. Until now… ten years later.”

  His words stung and my body felt heavy as I allowed myself to collapse onto the bench. I tried to focus on my breathing, but all I kept hearing were his words, making the tears come harder. Once I realized I was unable to get my breathing under control, I started to hyperventilate. Before I was sucked into a full blown panic attack, Emanuel picked me up and held me close. With my flats, I was at least 6 inches shorter than him. I had my head on his chest and I could hear his heart beating at the same fast pace as mine.

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he whispered into my hair as he rocked me back and forth. After my breathing had returned to normal, inhaling deeply he added, “Your hair smells like coconuts.”

  “I use coconut oil in my hair,” I responded into his chest. My voice was small and sounded foreign.

  He pulled his arms from around me and touched my face. His fingers left a fiery trail across my skin as he grazed my cheek and my chin. Cupping my face, he apologized, “I’m sorry. My whole point for wanting to talk to you wasn’t to yell at you or to make you cry. I just wanted to let you know that I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you. I’ve only ever loved you Sahara. Do you understand?”

  Emanuel searched my eyes. I saw the hurt, the sorrow, the love, and the frustration culminating into afirestorm of emotion directed at me. I couldn’t do anything but nod. As old emotions continued to overwhelm me, I thought, could you be in love with two people at the same time?

  “I want to hear you say it.” Emanuel inched his face closer to mine, narrowing the slight gap that was between us.

  “You only ever loved me,” I repeated in a breathless voice that sounded nothing like my own. Why has he always been able to turn me into mush with just his eyes? I thought briefly as I tried to fight my resurging feelings for him.

  Kissing me on my forehead, Emanuel took the picture of us from my hand and put it back in his pouch-like container on his motorcycle. He grabbed the helmet and jacket and brought them over to me.

  “Do you trust me?” Emanuel asked as he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

  “Yes,” I said automatically.

  He gave me a slow, sexy smile and pu
shed the helmet down on my head. Turning me around, he slipped the jacket up my arms. I zipped myself up and turned back toward him. He was still smiling as he rolled the sleeves up a bit so that my hands would be free. I was nervous to be getting on a motorcycle but, at the same time, when I looked into Emanuel’s eyes, I felt safe and confident. I felt like the old me.

  “Jesus take the wheel,” I prayed as I maneuvered my body on the motorcycle without exposing too my skin. I pressed myself flat against Emanuel’s back and I squeezed tightly.

  “I’m going to go slow. I’ll take good care of you,” he laughed as he covered my clasped hands with one of his hands.

  “You always have,” I mumbled against his shoulder as he started the engine. We eased out of Rosemary’s parking lot and onto the road. My eyes were squeezed together so tightly, I didn’t realize we were going in the opposite direction of Emily’s house.

  Chapter 22

  “Where are we?” I asked as I climbed off the motorcycle and looked around the unfamiliar park tucked inside of a beautifully constructed neighborhood. I could make out a large, expansive building in the distance. “Is this your neighborhood?” I asked, putting the context clues together.

  “Yes it is,” Emanuel confirmed as he took my hand and we walked to the gazebo. “This is where I like to come to think or to clear my head.”

  The gazebo was a large circular structure with stone seating around the inside and outside of it. He removed the motorcycle jacket from my body and placed it on the stone and gestured for me to have a seat. Smiling at the thoughtfulness, I sat down and crossed my legs at the ankle. He sat down next to me, his knee grazing mine.

  Looking at the view, I could understand why Emanuel chose this place to clear his head. You could hear a few kids playing and a dog barking, but while seated, you couldn’t see or be seen. It was a great place for a mental escape.

  I stretched my legs and pointed my toes. I looked at Emanuel and he was looking at my legs. His eyes slowly traveled up the length of my body, lingering at my hips and thighs. I could feel the heat from his gaze as he made his way up. When he got to my face and saw me watching him, he gave me a slow, sexy smile.

  “So what do you think about while you’re in here?” I asked as I smiled back, trying to ignore the feeling that spread over my body as he eyed my body.

  “Everything. Nothing. Life,” he shrugged. He paused for a minute before admitting, “I’ve thought a lot about you in here.”

  “I’ve thought a lot about you over the years as well,” I responded. That’s an understatement! I thought as my face flushed with the truth.

  For the next hour and a half we reminisced on our childhood, our favorite memories, and our teenage years. We laughed so hard we cried. We reflected on how close we were and how intertwined our families were. I vaguely remembered hearing my phone vibrate, but I didn’t check it. I was too caught up in reliving the past with Emanuel. Everything felt so familiar and I felt like the nineteen year old version of myself who I had lost along the way. Although it was a hot June day, I felt a chill course through me. Emanuel must have noticed because he put his arm around me. His fingers danced across my arm and the heat burned through the airy summer sweater. We were quiet and adjusted to our new seating arrangement. Our breathing was in tuned with one another as we both inhaled and exhaled in time.

  “James and Lidia got a divorce a few years ago,” Emanuel said, out of the blue.

  “Oh no! They were so in love. And that wedding was beautiful. For the last ten years, that was the standard I had for weddings,” I balked.

  “Yeah. The wedding was nice; the divorce not so much.”

  “Well I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah. You remember the joke the best man made about divorce?” Emanuel fought a laugh, but I could hear it in his voice.

  I was unable to hold it in and I burst out laughing. “Yeah, that was so inappropriate. You think his challenge had anything to do with the divorce?!”

  “Probably!” he joked as he chuckled beside me. When the laughter died down, he pointed out, “We had a good time that night.” Emanuel bumped his knee against mine.

  I bumped his knee back. “Yeah we did. We danced all night.”

  “Your date was pissed!” Emanuel teased as he turned toward me.

  “Oh my God! Ten years later and we’re still on that! That guy asked me to dance once and you and Emily wouldn’t let me live it down. I didn’t even know him!” I scoffed, turning my head and leaning back so I could see his whole face.

  “Well that didn’t stop him from gritting on me the entire night!” We laughed long and hard at the memory.

  “He probably saw me performing for you,” I smiled as I turned my entire body to face in his direction. His arm slipped from around me and I caught his hand between my hands.

  “Crazy In Love,” he whispered and bit down on his lower lip. Shaking his head, he recounted, “You popped out of nowhere, doing the dance from the video and singing the song. It was sexy and unexpected and hilarious all at the same time.”

  “I told Emily I was going to declare my love to you in an over the top way and we felt like a song and dance was the best way to get you to notice me. I picked the song because it was fun and flirty. Em wanted me to sing ‘Say Yes’ and for me to propose,” I laughed, throwing my head back.

  “Of course she would suggest that,” Emanuel shook his head at his little sister’s antics.

  “Although I wasn’t going to propose, I would’ve accepted if you asked,” I quietly revealed. Holding his hand and imploring him with my eyes, I continued, “It may have started off as a childhood crush, but the older we got, the more real it became. And before I knew it, I fell for you, hard. You were my first love.”

  “You were mine too.” Emanuel’s face looked vulnerable in that moment. And then suddenly his eyes clouded over and his face hardened...as if he were protecting himself. From me? I pondered.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked cautiously. I rubbed his hand, tracing delicate circles and figure eights. We were having such a good time together and now the look he gave me last night is back. I would do anything to just wipe that look off of his face, I thought.

  He shook his head and stared straight ahead. “I’ve replayed this moment in my head for years. I’ve had so many things I’ve wanted to say to you. Things I needed to tell you. Things I wanted to get off my chest.” He got quiet and remained quiet for at least a minute. The silence stretched between us and I held my breath, scared of what he would say next. This could go either way, I thought with worry.

  “I was pissed at you for the longest time Sahara,” Emanuel laughed a dry, humorless laugh. “I was pissed. I was hurt. I was heartbroken.” Emanuel ran his hands through his hair and exhaled deeply.

  I studied his profile. Every ridge and curve of his face looked like it was chiseled from stone. I wanted to console him. I wanted to explain myself. I wanted to apologize. I wanted to soften his handsome features and erase the hurt and heartbreak that I caused.

  “I’m sorry—.”

  Closing his eyes and exhaling sharply, Emanuel broke in angrily, “You apologized earlier, Sahara. I don’t want another apology; I want you to understand how I felt.”

  I’m trying to apologize because I feel horrible and he’s rejecting it. He’s not accepting my apology? I just don’t understand him right now. I don’t understand why he’s acting like I wasn’t at all hurt by all of this? I thought with growing frustration. “You and your family—” I started.

  “Yes, we were all hurt and saddened by your disappearance after what happened to us. But right now, I’m not talking about the family. I’m talking about me. I’m talking about us. I’m talking about how I felt as a man in love with a woman who left me while I was in a coma. I’m talking about how I felt as a man comparing every woman I dated to you. I’m talking about having to fight the urge to find you and tell you that I love you. That’s what I’m talking about now Sahara,” he interrupted with
frustration. Emanuel’s eyes flashed with the same smoldering look he had earlier—a lethal combination of love, hate, and lust.

  A fire burned inside of me and the flood gates opened as I screamed, “You weren’t the only one suffering Emanuel!”

  I stood up and paced in front of him. Taking a deep ragged breath, I continued angrily, “You want to talk about you specifically? Okay, let’s go! I cried and prayed for you every day that you were in the hospital. I talked to one of your nurses every single day until I was told you were awake. I knew when you had scans and surgeries. I knew when the swelling went down. I knew when they cleared you. When Nurse Brighton called me to tell me that you were awake, I promised myself that I would never do anything to hurt you again.”

  Angry tears slid down my face. Instead of feeling an overwhelming sense of sorrow as I usually did when thinking about this stuff, it felt good to release all of the pent up emotions. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him without really seeing him. My voice was forceful as I said, “I was in love with you Emanuel. I couldn’t be with anyone for years because they weren’t you. Do you understand that? I isolated myself from men because they weren’t you. And you have the audacity to come at me like I don’t understand what you went through!”

  I was taking deep, labored breaths as I concluded my outburst. He opened his mouth to speak but I yelled, “No!”

  I uncrossed my arms and stood with my fist clenched beside me. “You wanted to hear what I felt, so you will let me finish,” I snapped.

  I shook my head as I clenched and unclenched my fists. “I loved you with everything I had in me. I wanted to marry you Emanuel. I wanted to spend my life with you. So when I almost killed you—like I killed my mother and father—I needed to get away. But it wasn’t like I really got away because I was haunted by everything that happened. I’m still haunted by the accident. I’m haunted by the fact that I ruined the lives of everyone I had ever loved.”

 

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