“Emma, please let me explain.” I tried to keep my voice calm. “Can we sit down and talk? I wanted to tell you everything.”
“When?” she bellowed as anger entered her voice. “After you fucked me? When, Brandon?”
“Emma, please,” I begged. “I wanted to tell you tonight. It’s not what you think?”
“What I think is that you lied to me when you said you were in Sausalito this past weekend. What I think is that you lied to me when I asked if you were with a girl Saturday night. Am I wrong?” I heard the anger in her voice, but saw the sadness in her eyes.
“God, Emma. I’m a fucking idiot for not telling you everything sooner. But it’s really not what you think. Please give me a chance to explain.”
Then Emma’s expression changed. The anger on her face evaporated, like someone had let out the air out of a balloon. She looked tired, and I hated myself for putting her through this. She finally gave a small nod as she looked away from me.
“Let’s sit down.” I gestured to the living room, and she led the way with me walking behind her.
I could hear my heart beating violently against my chest. In the last few days, I had imagined how I would tell Emma everything, how she would react, and how I would make her see that things would be okay. I imagined how I would show her that regardless of what happened, I loved her, and I would not stop loving her. But now, now that she was in front of me, now that I saw the look on her face, I wasn’t as confident about how things would play out.
We sat down on the couch. I held her hands firmly and I felt them shaking in my grasp. “Emma, I need you to know that I love you. Can you promise me that you’ll remember that? None of this changes anything about us or how I feel about you.”
She looked at me with a confused and distressed look on her face, like an innocent deer caught in the headlights, awaiting its impending death. My heart twisted as a cold certainty hit the pit of my stomach: I was going to hurt her again.
I squeezed her hands, hoping it would convey all the emotions that I had for her, hoping she would forgive me. Her hands were cold and clammy and motionless. She looked at me without saying a word, waiting for me to explain myself.
“So you’re right,” I began as I nervously watched her expression as I spoke. “Something has been going on and I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
She looked wounded by my words, as if she wasn’t expecting my admission. A feeling of unease fell over me as I thought about everything I had to tell her.
“Well, uhm, this weekend, I was in Los Angeles,” I paused, trying to figure out how to explain everything. My thoughts felt muddled and all I could focus on was the pain on Emma’s face, a pained look that I knew would only get worse.
“I was with Desiree.” I saw the color drain from Emma’s face, and immediately added, “Nothing happened. I was just helping her pack and move.”
“Help her move?” Emma’s voice was soft. “Why? Where is she going? Why does she need your help?”
“She’s, uh, she’s moving to SF,” I admitted. “She wanted to be closer to her family.”
“And you,” added Emma pointedly.
I knew I couldn’t respond to that. I couldn’t because it was true, and it was a truth I didn’t want to admit to Emma.
Then I saw a spark of understanding in her eyes that quickly turned into anguish. “So the girl’s voice I heard Saturday night when I called you, the voice that asked if you needed the shower. That was Des?”
“Yes,” I admitted, “but we had just finished moving most of her stuff into the U-Haul. She was just asking if I needed to use the shower. Nothing happened.”
There was a pause and I could tell that Emma was deep in thought. “I don’t get it,” she finally said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Why were you helping her move? Why did you lie about it? And why didn’t you tell me sooner?” The questions spewed out of her.
“I did want to tell you. Believe me, I did. I just … I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Tell me what? What’s going on, Brandon?”
“There’s …” I took a deep breath to clear my head, “There’s something that happened between Des and I that I haven’t told you,” I began. “This all happened before we started dating,” I quickly added, hoping to reassure her.
“Okay, what is it?” she asked nervously.
“Let me start from the beginning,” I paused, “About four months ago, Des’s father passed away suddenly from cardiac arrest. She had called me late one night after the funeral. She was really drunk, and possibly suicidal.”
A spark of concern hit Emma’s face. “She tried to commit suicide?”
“I’m not sure if she would have, but I wasn’t about to wait around to find out. She had overdosed on painkillers in the past, shortly after we broke up. Luckily, a friend found her in time and called 911. They had pumped her stomach and were able to remove most of the pills. The doctors had said that if she hadn’t gotten to the hospital when she did, her body would have digested most of the pills, and she probably wouldn’t have made it.”
I saw the shock on Emma’s face, and I squeezed her hands. “She’s better now.”
I paused before continuing, “So when she called that night after her father’s funeral, I could tell she was in trouble. I found her drunk and walking around aimlessly alone on the beach. I convinced her to come back to my place with me. I needed to make sure she wouldn’t do anything stupid. When we got back here, she wanted to drink more. She convinced me to drink with her—to honor the memory of her father, she said. We had a number of shots …” I trailed off. As Emma listened to my story, I saw the anxiety build in her eyes.
“… the next thing I remember was waking up in bed … with her.”
A look of horror painted Emma’s face and a part of me didn’t want to tell her anything more—to cause her any more pain. But I knew I had to.
“So you know that Des was in town a few weeks ago. Well … she told me that … she’s pregnant. And I’m the father.” I cringed when I heard the words out loud.
Emma was silent. Her face was pale and expressionless. She avoided my gaze as she sat in front of me in shock.
“When did you know?” she finally said dryly.
“She told me the day after that night I came over for dinner,” I said cautiously.
I saw the hurt in her eyes. “That was almost two weeks ago,” she accused. “At what point were you going to tell me? After she had the baby?” The anger returning to her voice.
“I really did want to tell you sooner, but I was trying to come to terms with all this myself. I … I should have told you as soon as I found out, but I needed time to think about everything. I wanted to talk to her some more—to be sure she was going to keep the baby before I approached you about this …”
“So she’s keeping it?” she whispered.
I nodded solemnly.
I watched Emma’s expression and waited for her to respond. But she didn’t.
“Emma, I’m really sorry for not telling you sooner. But please know that this does not change anything between us. I love you, and I want to be with you. Nothing will change that. Des may be a part of my life, but I’m not going to let that affect us. Please know that.”
She remained silent and I could not shake the dread that gripped my heart.
“Emma, please talk to me. What can I do to make things right—to make this work between us. I’ll do anything,” I pleaded.
“That’s just it. There’s nothing you can do,” she whispered flatly, her voice barely audible.
The look in Emma’s eyes confirmed my greatest fear—a cold certainty that I had lost her.
Chapter Ten
Emma
I was on the verge of tears as I sat there. As the reality of what Brandon had just told me started to worm its way into me, my past came crashing back to haunt me.
I can’t be with him.
The room b
egan to close in on me as I thought through everything Brandon had just told me; I felt my life unraveling before me and I couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, I sprung to action. I needed to get out of here. Away from Brandon.
“Where are you going?” Brandon asked, grabbing my arm. “Can we please talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Brandon!” My voice was shrill and shaky. “I can’t do this?”
“Do what? Emma, what are you trying to say? Please tell me what you’re thinking,” he pleaded.
“I’m sorry. I ...” I said. I headed towards the door as he followed behind. I reached for the doorknob and then stopped and turned back to him.
“Actually,” my voice stronger than I felt, “I’m not sorry. This is not my fault. I didn’t ask for this. You promised you wouldn’t hurt me again!”
I ran out the door and towards the elevator. My body was reeling from shock.
“Emma, I’m so sorry! I know I fucked up. I know this mess is entirely my fault, but please don’t do this. Please don’t just leave like this. I would never hurt you intentionally. What I did with Des, that happened before we started dating. You’re the one I want to be with, and none of this has changed that.”
“Everything has changed, Brandon,” I cried as I entered the elevator. “I can’t—” I couldn’t believe I was about to say this, “I can’t be in a relationship with you. Please let me go.”
I saw the shocked expression on his face as the elevator closed between us. Tears began to fall down my face as I found myself yet again in this elevator in tears. I sobbed uncontrollably as the elevator took me down to the lobby.
Pain engulfed me and I found myself spiraling down a darkness that I had tried to escape a long time ago. A darkness that would be forever a part of my past, forever a part of me. I had thought that there was nothing Des could do or say that would make me give Brandon to her. Not when Brandon still loved me.
But I was wrong. So wrong. I hadn’t expected my past to be on her side.
***
It was raining heavily when I got outside. Yet, I ran out of the building and into the night, embracing the cold rain that hit my skin. The wind blew through my hair, moving it violently in the air, as if it had a mind of its own.
I ran. Away from him, away from the pain, and away from the reality of what just happened—the reality that Brandon and I could never be. My lungs burned with exhaustion, and my feet ached as my stilettos pounded against the wet pavement.
Then I heard his voice through the downpour of rain. I turned around right as his hand grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop.
“Emma, stop! I am not going to let you run away from me like this. Not again. I will not lose you over this,” he shouted.
“You already have, Brandon,” I yelled over the rain that pounded down on us. “We can never be together. You’re going to be a father. I can not take that away from an unborn child. I just can’t.”
“Emma, I don’t understand. I will be there for the baby, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be together. That doesn’t make sense. Why does it matter?”
“It just does,” I cried. I have kept this secret locked away since the day my mom told me years ago. How could I tell anyone now?
“It should not matter, Emma. I love you. I did not cheat on you. I am not with Des. Even if we weren’t together, I am not going to date Des. We broke up many years ago for a reason. A baby doesn’t change that.”
I shook my head violently as I sobbed.
He pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly. “I’m telling you right now, it will not change a thing between us. I love you and I want to be with you!”
I pushed Brandon away from me. Being in his arms made things that much more painful. It was a reminder of what I couldn’t have.
“But it does change us, Brandon! It changes EVERYTHING! She’s won! She had won before I even moved here. Before I was even in the picture. She had won the day you guys slept together and she got pregnant!”
Saying the words aloud made my heart ache. It ached with so much intensity, I thought I was going to die. At this moment, I wanted to die. To no longer feel any of this pain that crushed against my chest.
“Emma, you’re shivering and you’re completely soaked. Please, let’s just go back inside and talk things through.” His voice was desperate and pleading.
“I can’t, Brandon. We can’t be together. There’s nothing you can say that will change that,” I choked out.
“Why? I don’t understand. Do you not love me?”
I looked up at him, surprised that he would even ask that. “Of course I do.”
“Then what is it? Why can’t we be together? Are you mad at me for what I’ve done?”
“I am, but that’s not it. It has nothing to do with you. It’s me. I just can’t,” I cried. I didn’t want him to know the one thing that I was ashamed of.
“No, Emma,” he said forcefully. “That’s not good enough. I will not let you do this again. I will not allow you to run away and shut me out. You can’t tell me you love me and then tell me we can’t be together. I know you’re upset with me, but what happened between Des and I was before anything really happened between us. You can be mad at me, you can hit me, and you can take it out on me, but you cannot—and I will not let you—hold that mistake against me and what we have. I will not let you break up this relationship because of it.” His hands firmly held my arms, preventing me from turning away from him, preventing me from escaping the truth.
“My mom was raped, Brandon!” I screamed. I then gasped at my own admission.
“What?” Brandon’s grip on me loosened as he took in my words. “Why are you telling me this? Please, Emma. I don’t understand.”
My body shook—from the pain, from the grief over my mother, from the hatred over my father, and from the loss of Brandon. I knew there was no turning back now. I had to tell him everything.
“Can we please go back inside to talk about this?”
I shook my head. “I need to tell you now before I change my mind.”
“Okay.” His worried eyes examined me as he guided me towards an awning in front of a closed shop. “Let’s get out of the rain at least.”
“She was 19. He was a friend in college. My mom said that she was at a party of his and she had too much to drink. She had passed out at some point, and he raped her when she was unconscious. She never reported it because he said he would deny it. He threatened her. He said it would be a he-said-she-said, and he would smear her name and reputation in town if she said anything. Because he came from a prominent family in town, she knew he had the power to destroy her life and get away with it. I also think that she was ashamed to tell people—like somehow, it was her fault. Anyway, a few months later, my mom found out that she was pregnant.”
I paused and looked at Brandon. He was silent as he listened. Then I saw the look of understanding flash in his eyes.
“She kept the baby,” he whispered.
I nodded as I avoided his gaze.
“And that baby was you.”
“Yes,” I said somberly. This was the first time I’ve ever told anyone about my past—about the deep secret I was ashamed of. “I was the product of a rape,” I whispered.
Brandon looked stunned and unable to speak. I could tell he wasn’t sure how to react or what to say. I reached for his hands and held them, and he reacted by pulling me into his arms and held me protectively.
“I’m so sorry, Emma.”
I felt fresh, hot tears roll down my cheeks as I buried myself his hard chest. He felt warm and safe, and I felt the pang of losing him to Desiree—to the child.
I pulled away to look up at him. Although the shame of my past twisted inside me, a part of me felt a sense of freedom that my secret was out, and that it was Brandon who I told. He gave me a reassuring smile.
“My mom told the guy about being pregnant. He had promised to support us and to be there for me. But by the time I was born, he was in a se
rious relationship with another woman. He skipped town and denied being my father. My mom was devastated. Not because she love my father, but because she knew that she would need help raising me. And during most of her pregnancy, my father had promised her that money would not be an issue. So she was not prepared financially when I was born. She had to drop out of college to work two jobs to provide for us.”
I looked at Brandon. There was no pity on his face, just unadulterated concern and sadness, and I felt my feelings for this man deepen.
“I’ve never met my father,” I continued. “I don’t even know his name or what he looks like. I took my mom’s maiden name. My mom didn’t tell me what happened until I was 13. All my life before that point, I loved a father that I thought had passed away before I was born. When I found out the truth, I hated him. I hated him for abandoning my mom and me, I hated him for breaking his promise to support us. I told myself I would never allow someone to do that to another child if I had the power to prevent it.” My voice shook as I told my story, and I wiped the tears from my eyes.
I saw the understanding in Brandon’s eyes. “I see. So … you’re ending our relationship because you don’t want to interfere with the relationship I will have with my child?”
I nodded. “I don’t expect you to completely understand my reasoning, but I know what it’s like to have a father that didn’t love you enough to stay in your life. A father who abandoned you and never looked back. It is devastating. I can’t do that to an innocent child.”
“But … Emma, you know me. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t abandon a child like that. I’ll take responsibility for the child. But that doesn’t mean I have to be with Des. I want to be with you.”
I sighed. I know what he said made complete sense, but this was something I felt strongly about. “I just can’t, Brandon. I swore to myself I would never be the other woman. The woman my father left me for. Yet, here I am. I am that woman. I just can’t do that. I can’t be the other woman.”
“Emma, I’m so sorry for fucking things up and making such a mess out of everything. I’m sorry for lying about it initially. But I think we can still work through this. I know it’s a lot to take in right now. I think you just need some time to think about things. Please just don’t give up on us. Please.”
The Day to Remember (Emma's Story) Page 8