by Scott, S. L.
I miss him already.
A KNOCK ON the door startles me. I shove the t-shirt I’m packing into my overnight case before walking across the apartment and answer it.
“Hey there.” Brandon greets me with a smile.
“Come in,” I say, smiling back and pulling him in by the cuff of his sleeve before closing the door. “How are you?”
“I should be asking you that. How are you?”
I return to my room to continue packing the toiletries. “Better than expected.”
“Going somewhere?”
“Dylan’s.”
“So, all is forgiven and you’re moving on and… moving in or what?”
He’s not being mean or judgmental, just curious and protective. I understand. “One day at a time. Yesterday was a good day for us. We talked and,” I say, shrugging, “I had my questions answered. I don’t know. Honestly, I’m not gonna overthink this. I feel more at peace with this decision than I thought I would.”
“Jules—”
“Brandon, please.” I can’t look up at him right now. If I do, I’ll cry and I don’t want to cry. I just want to continue feeling this happiness that has invaded me wholly. “I know you care about me and you’re worried. But, he’s changed. I can feel it. It’s not just his words. It’s everything.” I know from how he looks at me and his tentative touches, his firm grips and the way he moves when near. “He’s aware of what he’s lost, of what he threw away. He’s showing me how sorry he is. So please don’t take this away from me, not now, not after all I’ve been through.”
He steps closer, bending down so he’s eye-level and grins, cheekily. “I was going to say I think Dylan’s changed for the better. I think his heart just might be in the right place.”
“Really? You support this, us?”
“Don’t get me wrong, Jules, I’m angry about the past shit he put you through, but… I think it’s time we all found some good out of the bad. And honestly, I think he just might be the only one who will ever heal your heart.”
I throw my arms around his neck, tears falling carelessly onto his shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, Brandon. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
“Anything for you. You know that, right?”
I nod, because yes, I do know that.
I WAIT OUTSIDE his door for him to answer. Running feet pad across a wood floor in a rush to answer, and the door flies open.
He’s there. Breathless, handsome as ever with a huge smile. “You came back.”
“I told you I would.” I saunter past him while flashing a confident grin.
“I hoped.”
I drop my bag and hug him because I can. I can now hug him as much as I want and I might just take advantage of the fact. “Who won?” I ask, referring to the game.
But he has others ideas. “I did.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, you had me at take-out last night. You can drop the Mr. Charming act now.”
“It’s not an act, Jules,” he replies, slipping his hand into mine and pulling me into the kitchen. “I really am charming.”
I burst out laughing. “And so humble, too.”
“I never claimed to be humble.” He pours me a glass of white wine while chuckling. “I ordered pizza. The salad on the pie version you always liked. Do you still?”
He makes me happy and I like the feeling. “I do.” I sip, calming the giddy nerves inside. “How long until it arrives?”
“They’re busy because of the game. We’ve got about forty-five minutes left from their estimate.”
“Good.” I pull him closer by the t-shirt, fisting it, and holding on tight.
A small smirk plays at the corners of his mouth as he lifts me up so I’m sitting on the counter. My legs are spread and he makes himself at home between them. He’s hard. I’m wet, and we haven’t even kissed. I stagger for air, feeling lightheaded as he moves forward, his lips seeking mine, his hands already gripping my hips, holding me in place. Just as the fullness of his bottom lip hits mine, he whispers, “I want you. I need you so much. My Jules. My Juliette.”
Slipping my tongue between his parted lips, I eat his words, devouring them and his needs. I slide my hand down his chest, not caring that his shirt is stretched out and wrinkled from my tight hold. Down further and over his abs that take work to get and more work to maintain.
Down further to his cock. I palm, feeling his erection. A moan from him to me, savoring the sound, I respond with my own. He pulls his shirt off abruptly, tossing it… somewhere. My lips slide down his neck, taking him in, smiling. “Mmmm,” I moan, getting lost in him completely. It’s so easy to do, just like old times. Just like our best of times. Our bodies connect through passionate kisses, caressing touches, and sexual stroking.
My arms are up, my shirt is coming off as he tosses it away like he did his own. Dylan kisses the tops of my breasts, his hands sliding up my ribs and appreciating the sides of my breasts. Then he cups them, massaging for both of our pleasure.
A thought occurs, bugging me when I should be oblivious to the world outside. I ask, needing to verify, “This is real between us, it’s not just sexual, right?”
His lids are heavy with desire but he stops, surprised by my question. “It’s real.” His hands hold my face steady as his words are scattered across my skin through a warm breath. I tighten my legs around him not wanting him to leave this spot. “Don’t think that.” His brow furrows. “We are not just about sex. We’re more than that. We always were. I thought you were feeling the same way.”
“I do. I just needed to make sure. Are we moving too fast?”
“Too fast for what? Too fast for whom?”
“What will I tell my parents?”
Amused, but slightly bewildered by my comment he asks, “So, let me get this straight. We’re half naked right now, leading into soon to be completely naked and you want to know if your parents will approve of us or not? I think I just lost my hard-on.”
I stroke his cock. “Nope, still hard. Maybe even harder than before. I think you might be into dirty parent talk—” I’m laughing too hard to finish my sentence.
“No, just no. Stop this. I need brain bleach.” He squints his eyes and shakes his head around like he’s in pain.
Grabbing him by the back of the neck, I pull him closer, both of us smiling. “It feels so good to laugh like this. It’s been ages.”
“Agreed,” he says, stealing a kiss.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too, but luckily you weren’t gone too long.”
“I mean more than tonight.”
There’s a silence between us as he stares into my eyes, searching, finding what he needs. “I missed you, Jules… more than just tonight, too.”
He kisses the corner of my mouth, lingering a moment. Eventually, he scoops me off the counter and sets me down on my own two feet. I’m slightly disappointed but I know the sexual build-up has passed. “I’ll get the plates ready. You go watch the game,” I offer.
I bring two plates, napkins and my wine, setting them on the table and settle down on the couch next to him. His hand finds its place on my knee and he smiles letting me know all is okay.
OVER A MONTH has passed and she’s still here. Nothing is taken for granted. Too much time lost. Too much time to make up for.
She still lives at her apartment, but she’s here a lot or I’m over at our old place. We took it one day at a time for about two days and then we just gave in completely and placed our trust in each other.
It’s late and I decide we need to go to bed. She fell asleep over an hour ago and as much as I love holding her, it’s cramped on the couch. I scoot out from under her, turn off the TV, and the lamp before leaning down and picking her up carefully. Her eyes open and a gentle smile appears as she wraps her arms around my neck. “You used to carry me to bed all the time.”
“You’re still light as a feather. I should feed you better,” I tease, aiming to get another smile before bed
.
She laughs lightly, still sleepy. “Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll put on those love pounds soon enough.”
“Love pounds? Yes, let’s both pack’em on and just grow old, fat, and be happy together.”
Her smile stays as she leans her head on my shoulder. “That sounds like a plan.”
After getting ready for bed, she snuggles into my side. “Are you sure you’re fine with the no gift thing. I know it’s a bit untraditional—”
“I could be lame and say you’re my gift this year.”
“Yeah, don’t say that. It’s sooooo bad.”
I chuckle in the dark room. “Okay, I won’t. Are you sure you’re okay with the no gift idea. I mean it is Valentine’s? Only comes once a year.”
“I don’t need anything—”
“Valentine’s isn’t about buying something needed—”
“It’s about being together and showing how much you care about the person you’re with. You do that every day, Dylan. I have everything I want and need.” She pokes me in the side, trying to tickle me. “Now all your lameness has rubbed off on me.”
“Oh, I almost forgot. Will you be my Valentine, Jules?” I hear the pillow whooshing through the air, but I’m too slow to stop it. It hits me in the face. “Okay, okay,” I say, my voice muffled from under the weight of the down pillow. “How about goodnight then?”
“Perfect. Goodnight. Sweet dreams,” she says calmly, but I can tell she wants to laugh. She drags the pillow back and repositions herself against me. Minutes pass and I’m starting to doze off when I hear her whisper, “Yes.”
With my eyes still closed, I mumble, “Huh?”
“I’ll be your Valentine, but only on one condition.”
I smile though she can’t see me. “What’s that?”
“That you’ll be mine.”
I roll onto my side and hug her closer. “You got yourself a Valentine, sweetness.”
I wake up around four in the morning. My eyes squinting in the dark to find the yarn I hid under my alarm clock.
Jules’ breathing is steady, solid, deep. She’s definitely asleep, but knowing she’s a light sleeper, I move slowly, carefully, taking her left hand off me and setting it down very gently. I tie the red yarn around her finger and make a bow before kissing it and going back to sleep.
A SLIGHT SHAKE of the bed and what sounds like crying wakes me. Quickly opening my eyes, I see tears stream down Jules’ face as she gazes up at her hand, which she’s holding in the air.
“You remembered. I forgot,” she says, sniffling.
“I want you to remember too though.” Back in college, the red yarn was a promise that one day I’d replace it with a ring. I’m making that same promise again… but this time I’ll follow through.
“I’ll try.” She looks straight into my eyes in the softly lit room, the sun just barely above the horizon.
“One day you’ll forget all the bad and remember only the good. I’ll give you that. You deserve to remember only happiness. You deserve to have beautiful memories of our life together.”
Stroking my cheek, she tries to smile though the heavier emotions are clearly winning. “Our life together has always been beautiful. It’s the times without you that are painful.”
She’s right. We were so good together, even up to the day I left her. Her eyes close as she rests her head on my chest, crying. I rub her head and say, “I wish I could erase—”
“Wishing is pointless. The bad brought us back to the now, so no wishing. Let’s just live in our reality, scars, battle wounds, and all that comes with a past apart.”
“Okay.” I agree because I have to. Wishing won’t do either of us any good but I really do wish…
I’M TRYING TO be an active listener at Dylan’s work party, but some of these financial conversations are really boring. I smile and play along. Stocks, bonds, and bankruptcies aren’t topics that I can easily add anything of value to, especially when I don’t understand what they’re talking about.
Thank God I don’t have to be anything but myself with Dylan. I watch him talk, fascinated by how much he’s learned and changed from the boy I once dated. He holds my hand, asking my thoughts, showing me how much he loves me. I’ve engaged in plenty of chitchat tonight, been called beautiful several times, but is it bad if I’m already ready to leave and spend the rest of the night in bed with him instead?
Bed. That’s become my favorite place, my favorite escape from the world. It’s been hard to set aside the past, but I’ve been doing it. If I’m not careful, it tends to catch up with me when we’re apart.
The CEO has summoned Dylan to join in another business discussion, so I offer to refresh our drinks at the open bar. He’s an asset to the company, a rising star. I see that tonight. Dylan’s watches as I walk away. He’s always watching me, afraid I’m leaving. I hate that he feels that way, but I understand it too.
For almost a year after he left, I thought I saw Dylan walking around our neighborhood: at the local grocer, the coffee shop, buying a paper at the drugstore like he used to do. But it was never him. I questioned my sanity when reality hit. I also never dared to bring him up to his mother. I wasn’t strong enough to lose that bond or to hear about his great life without me. But I also knew she’d tell me if anything major was going on with him like surgery, marriage, kids. She never had to. Thank God.
I still hate that he left, but now… I’m officially out as his girlfriend to his co-workers. I saw disappointment on some of the women’s faces and one of the male law clerks when we walked in, which made me smile inwardly and outwardly.
His assistant Tricia is really sweet, almost too excited to meet me. She used words like ‘finally’, and ‘so happy.’ She seems genuinely happy too, not jealous, not conniving. She whispered that since Dylan and I have been together, he’s been in a great mood at work and that he’s a great boss. I started chuckling because my co-workers at the gallery have said the same thing since our reconciliation.
None of them know this is a reconciliation though. I never went into the gory details with them.
I’ve seen Jacqueline several times out of the corner of my eye. I haven’t run in to her yet. I’m anxious about that, even though I shouldn’t be. Truth be told, I’ve been avoiding her. She knows too much and it makes me uncomfortable. I can only imagine what she thinks of me.
After approaching the bar, I glance back at Dylan. He’s discussing something intently, nodding and using his hands to emphasize some point. It appears to be an intense conversation. I hope it’s nothing bad, not wanting the good mood ruined.
I order him a beer and another glass of champagne for me. With drinks in hand, I turn, my eyes meeting Austin’s, making me halt abruptly. Drops of champagne spill over the edge of the glass, the cold hitting my skin.
He grabs napkins quickly from the bar and dabs my wrist, ridding me of the liquid. “I’m sorry for startling you, Jules.”
An automatic response flows from me, “Oh no, it was my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” I try to smile, to bury the feelings that threaten to come. My heart is pounding too hard in my chest to think logically.
I move forward, unsure if I should stay or go. He moves too, but I’m going to Dylan and he seems to be coming with me, so I stop. I have trouble smiling, my stomach turning from guilt. His expression is kind and in a way, comforts me. He smiles and says, “It’s really good to see you. How have you been?” Austin has always been too much of a gentleman, too kind for his own good.
“I’m good. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“My company is one of their largest accounts, so they always send us an invitation to their events.” Here it comes. I can see it in his eyes. “So you’re here with Dylan?”
I look over his shoulder and see the topic of conversation. Dylan’s eyes flash to mine and then to Austin before he returns his gaze back to the discussion he seems stuck in. He looks restless, unsettled in his stance. He has nothing to worry about,
but I’m not sure he believes that completely yet.
I’m his. I always was. “Yes. I’m here with Dylan.”
He nods as if he knew all along. “So it was more serious than I thought.”
“It was more serious than I thought too, Austin. I’m sorry. I feel like—”
“You don’t need to apologize or explain. I don’t feel duped or anything like that. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out what went wrong. I’ve been flying to China a lot lately, so I’ve had plenty of time to think about it on those long flights.” He laughs, but there’s no humor. “I don’t think you knew your own feelings until he was back in the picture. I’m just sorry for the timing. Maybe if… Yeah, I’m not going down that road.” He looks around, his real emotions starting to break through his smile. “I don’t live my life based on what-if’s, so I try not dwell.” He leans closer and whispers, “I should tell you, I’m seeing someone too. She’s heading this way.”
And there she is—long legs, about a foot taller than me, blonde hair, blue eyes. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and kisses him on the cheek. “Did you miss me?”
“I ran into a friend of mine. This is Jules Weston. Jules, Misty Connors.”
As I say hello, it doesn’t escape me that he didn’t respond to her question.
I hear an accent in her greeting, but I can’t determine where she’s from. She eyes me, assessing me from head to toe. I need to get out of this awkward situation. “I should go and deliver thes—”
“Jules?” Dylan has finally escaped and is here by my side. “Austin,” he acknowledges politely, shaking his hand with a smile. Not gloating, but not hiding either.
“Hope you don’t mind me monopolizing your date, Dylan. We’ve been catching up.” Austin’s voice is tight, bitter feelings toward Dylan still lingering.
Dylan looks from me with concern, but to him with confidence. “Completely understandable when talking to Juliette. I hear your company expansion is going well.”