The Beauty Beneath

by DC Renee

  “Well, it’s all over now. And tonight will be the start of a new life together,” she told me.

  “I sure hope so,” I told her. She just smiled and nodded like she knew everything would work out.

  Two hours later, she was putting the final touches on my makeup when I heard Carter’s voice in the next room. “Hey Beth, where are you?” he called out. I froze.

  “What’s he doing here?” I asked quietly.

  Beth smirked as she said in a mock-innocent voice, “He might have called me about an hour ago.”

  “That’s who called you? I thought it was a client,” I told her.

  “Yeah, well.” She shrugged.

  “He knows I’m here?” I asked, partially upset, partially excited, and completely nervous.

  I heard him call out again. “Nope, he wanted to figure out how to be there for you tonight,” she said sweetly, and if I hadn’t been in love with him already, I would have been just from that alone. I had pushed him away, all but told him he didn’t matter, and he still wanted to be by my side for a night he knew meant a great deal to me. “He just didn’t know how to get you to let him go with you, so he called me for advice. I told him to be here now. But I didn’t say anything about you. Promise. Mum’s the word.”

  He called out once more. “What do I do?” I asked, my hands shaking, my palms starting to get clammy.

  “Go out there and show him the beauty that’s been hiding underneath. And then tell him everything you told me. He’ll be putty in your hands.”

  She pushed me out of her room, and I stumbled a couple of steps before stopping short at the sight of Carter in a suit, his hair disheveled like he had run his hands through it several times. I wondered if he was just as nervous as I was. He looked a little worn out, tired, and I immediately felt bad. So I spoke from the heart, told him everything I felt, told him everything I thought. And the next thing I knew, he pounced on me. And damn if it didn’t make me feel good.

  “Is it wrong that I don’t want to share you with anyone else tonight now that I got you back?” Carter asked after we had said our good-byes and thank-yous to Beth.

  “I feel the same way,” I told him. “But I want to show my family just how much you mean to me, just what you’ve done for me. I …” I trailed off as I bit my lip anxiously. “I want everyone to know that I’m back, and as long as you’re by my side, I’m never going back to who I was after I lost my father.”

  “I’ll always be by your side,” he responded.

  Twenty minutes later, we arrived at my cousin’s wedding. When we walked in, there was literally a hush like before the curtain opens at the theater or one of those scenes in a comedy. Carter squeezed my hand, giving me courage and reassurance. “I’m right here,” he whispered. “And I love you.”

  “Emmie?” My aunt was the first to break the silence.

  “Hi, Aunt May.” I waved shyly with my other hand.

  “My God, child, you’re gorgeous,” she cried out. “I never thought the day would come when I got to see you in all your God-given beauty,” she added as she ran up to me and pulled me into a hug. And the entire hall turned into a chorus of murmurs. “And who’s this?” she asked as she looked at Carter.

  “Aunt May, this is Carter, my boyfriend,” I said the words and smiled, liking how “Carter” and “boyfriend” sounded in the same sentence.

  “Pleased to meet you,” he said and stuck out his hand. Aunt May wrapped him in a hug instead. What can I say? She was my mom’s sister, after all. Two of a kind.

  “He’s a looker,” she said to me as if Carter couldn’t hear. He didn’t bother hiding his smile. “But listen here, if you hurt her, break her, or any other nonsense you young folks like to do these days, I will hunt you down and skin you alive,” she said seriously before smiling wide again. “I have a feeling you might be behind this transformation, though,” she told Carter. “So I don’t think I’m going to have to worry about hurting you, right?”

  “No.” He laughed. “Em’s had enough pain in her life. She’ll get no more from me.” He looked at me when he said those words. I knew he was trying to convey the deep meaning behind them with his eyes. I nodded in response, telling him I understood.

  “Good,” she responded.

  “Where’s my mom?” I asked.

  “She went off to the restroom before you got here all fashionably late in your fancy new do like Cinderella with her Prince. But she should be back any— Oh, here she is.” She cut herself off looking over my shoulder. Then Aunt May’s eyes started tearing up, and I knew that meant my mom was sobbing behind me. When one of the sisters cried, they all felt it.

  I turned and smiled at how right I was. There was my mom, tears falling freely down her cheeks, her hands trembling by her sides. “Oh, Em,” she cried, and just like Aunt May, she barreled into me to hug me tightly. She didn’t say anything more, but we did stay huddled together for a few minutes, her hugging me as if she were afraid I’d float away if she let go and me hugging her for comfort and strength.

  “I love you, Em,” she said as she pulled away. She then proceeded to wrap her arms around Carter and squeeze him just as tightly. I heard her whispering something in his ear. I didn’t catch everything, but I did hear, “Thank you,” and “You’re good for her.” Didn’t I know it?

  And the rest of the night went pretty much the same. Every family member that I knew spent a generous amount of time gawking at me, telling me how wonderful it was to see me like that, and eyeing Carter with a mix of suspicion and awe.

  “Dance with me,” Carter said after the reception started.

  “I don’t really dance,” I told him.

  “You do now,” he said and pulled me to my feet. We swayed together, our bodies lightly touching, my arms around his shoulders, his pressed firmly against my back, supporting me and holding me to him.

  “I’m guessing you’ve never danced with a guy before?” he asked.

  “I’ve danced with plenty of guys, Mister,” I told him.

  “Who?” he asked a little aggressively, his jealousy seeping through. I bit back a smile.

  “My uncle, my dad when I was younger, a few cousins.”

  He visibly relaxed at my response. “So I get to be another first?” he asked.

  “Carter Anderson,” I told him as I moved my hands into his hair, pulled his face closer to mine, not caring one bit that we were in the middle of the dance floor at my cousin’s wedding surrounded by all my family. I pressed my lips against his and whispered, “You’re my one and only.”

  Thirty Six

  Carter

  Emerson loved me. Emerson loved me. Seriously, no words could express the happiness that knowledge gave me. When she whispered those words to me on the night of her cousin’s wedding, I walked around with a smug smile on my face, my chest pumped out as if I was about to bang on it like Tarzan. I felt like a fucking king. And all because of the love of a girl. Not just any girl. The most beautiful woman inside and out. Emerson.

  I used to be shallow. When I had first looked at Emerson, I dreaded even walking up to her. Now, I thanked God every day for my friends and their stupid bets. I wasn’t shallow anymore. I fell for Emerson when she still wore her cringe-inducing outfit, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was fucking ecstatic with how stunning she truly was.

  And being the guy that I was, I wanted nothing more than to take her home right after the wedding and find out what other gems she had hidden underneath. But when I took her home, we had things to discuss instead.

  “That was … That was … wow,” she said when we walked through her front door.

  “You handled all the attention quite well,” I commended her.

  “Years of people staring at you will do that.” She shrugged. “It’s just that I usually used my appearance as my shield. I knew they were staring for a reason, and I didn’t mind it. Today was something else. It was nerve-wracking, that was for sure, but it was also exhilarating.”

  �
��I have a feeling you’re going to have to get used to people noticing you for how you look. I’m going to have to get used to it,” I groaned as the realization that I knew with one-hundred percent certainty men were going to oogle my girlfriend. No, scratch that—they were going to picture her naked and in various compromising positions. I was going to get into many fights. I just knew it.

  “The only person I notice is you,” she assured me and kissed me lightly. I’d never get enough of her kisses. I could get drunk on them, and I’d be one of those happy drunks who walked around telling everyone how much they loved them. Except I’d do it only to Emerson.

  “I noticed you, C,” she said shyly and bent her head down. “I noticed you before I had a right to. You lit up my world with your personality and your charm. All I saw was darkness before, and then you came barreling in, and the rays of sunshine started streaming in.”

  “Not my dashing good looks?” I teased.

  “What was it my aunt said? Oh yeah, you’re a looker all right.” She smiled. “But when you sit on the sidelines for as long as I did, you got to really study people. The most handsome man could have an ugly heart. It wasn’t your looks, Carter, that got to me, although I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I appreciated the sight of you. It was how you were with me, how you let me be who I was with no questions, no guilt, and no negativity. You pushed me, but only emotionally, never on who I was on the outside. Do you know how rare that is? Do you know how special you made me feel? And I hadn’t felt special since I was little when my father told me I was his sunshine, called me his princess, his little Emmie.” Her eyes became watery, but she didn’t shed a tear.

  “I’m sorry,” I croaked.

  “No, God, Carter, no. Don’t ever be sorry. I couldn’t appreciate what you’d done for me this last month because I was consumed with guilt, shame, sorrow …” She trailed off, and I swallowed hard. It was too much. Everything was too much to hear so soon after I got her back. I was worried, so very worried, that she’d realize just what I did and leave me again. I couldn’t take that. “But now, I see it all clearly. I see you clearly,” she told me.

  “I believe I said it first,” I teased, trying to get away from all the heaviness.

  “Not quite,” she responded with a smile. Then her expression grew serious. “This past month, I don’t want you to think I didn’t care about you.”

  “I don’t,” I interjected.

  “The first two weeks, I did what I do best,” she continued. “I hid. I buried all the pain I was feeling, all the emotions that overwhelmed me, the love I had for you … I buried it all deep down inside myself, so I could go on with my life. But no matter how far I pushed the love I had for you, it wouldn’t stay put. It was so hard for me to shut you out, but I was scared, Carter. I was scared of what I’d learned, of how you made me feel. I was scared of everything that could happen, of everything that might not happen. I blamed you because I needed a reason to run.”

  “But I am to blame.”

  “You were just a child—same as I was—put in a shitty situation by shitty circumstances. It’s life, C, and we have to keep living it, fair or not. You weren’t to blame any more than I was. God”—she blew out a frustrated breath—“you don’t know how hard that is for me to say, for me to believe. But I’m getting there,” she said with a small shaky smile.

  “We’ll get you there,” I said as I clasped her hands in mine.

  She nodded and continued to speak. “The day you came by,” she said as she brought her hand up to rest on my chest, right over my heart. The heat of her palm seared me but in a good way. I wanted to absorb her warmth; I wanted it inside me, branding me, consuming every inch of me. “I was afraid you were just like everyone else. And that deep down, you saw me for only what I let people see. But then you …” She choked up. I put my hand over hers and squeezed lightly. “You told me what it all meant. I … I didn’t know what to do with that. I wanted to run into your arms, and I wanted to push you further away. The frightened part of me won out. But not because I didn’t love you. It’s not because I didn’t understand the enormity of the situation. It’s because I was terrified.”

  “You don’t have to be scared of me,” I told her. “Never again,” I said, my hand still over hers, holding it tighter now.

  “I was away for about a week after that. Don sent me on a business trip,” she told me, “or I probably would have come to you sooner,” she said, and I was elated to know she’d thought of me all this time, had wanted to be with me for much longer than I thought, yet was frustrated by the time we’d lost being together. But we had the rest of our lives, so I couldn’t be stingy. “But I learned some things, Carter. Some things about my father, about my parents, about that day.” She paused. “And I need to tell you. You deserve to know.”

  “Whatever it is, Em, I’m here for you. Whatever you need to tell me, we’ll work through it,” I assured her.

  “I know. But it doesn’t make it any easier to admit. My father, that day, he was going to kidnap me,” she said. I stilled. “Kidnap.” She laughed mirthlessly. “That’s not the right word, but I don’t have a better one.”

  “Start from the beginning, Em. Explain what you mean.”

  “I guess my parents were having issues. I didn’t even know. I didn’t notice anything was different between them. I was so self-absorbed that I don’t think I would have even if they were flashing neon signs in front of my face. But I guess my father became scared my mother would get custody of me, and he’d never see me again. So he took drastic measures and was going to take me out of the country. The day he died,” she said carefully, “he was going to steal me from my life here. You stopped him,” she whispered. “I hate knowing that he was going to do that,” she cried. “I hate knowing that’s who my father turned out to be, but I don’t hate him. I can’t. I love him, and I feel like I’m betraying his memory for being upset about what he had planned.”

  “No, Em,” I said as I reached over and pulled her to me, resting my head on top of hers and running my hands up and down her back as I tried to give her the comfort she deserved. It was a lot to take in, but I knew it was harder on Emerson than it was on me. I couldn’t allow myself any time to comprehend the situation. She needed me, and I was going to be her rock. I promised her that, and I meant it. “His plan was based on his love for you,” I told her. “That means that nothing you can do or say in this life will change that. He loved you so fiercely that he wanted you with him always, and then he gave his life for yours. I’m sure he would understand your mixed emotions right now. But you said it yourself; you still love him. That’s all that matters.”

  “I love you, Carter,” she said against my chest. “You’re always there for me when I need you.”

  “I’ll always be here for you. I love you, Em. I love you so fucking much. I would do anything for you. Don’t forget that, and don’t doubt it.”

  “I won’t,” she responded. I didn’t believe her, but if I had to, I’d spend the rest of my life making sure she knew just how cherished she was and just how much I loved her. “Thank you,” she said as she lifted her head off my chest. “I never thanked you for everything you did. And for tonight. Beth told me you were coming to be by my side. I … You don’t know how much that means to me.”

  “I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” I told her, and I meant it.

  “Then it’s a good thing you’re stuck with me.”

  “Em, baby, you’re stuck with me.”

  Thirty Seven

  Emerson

  You know what twenty-four-year-old virgins thought about when they finally had a boyfriend? Yep, you guessed it, puppies. Just kidding. They thought about sex. Let me spell it out for you – S.E.X. They thought about the how and the where; they thought about being clumsy, or being bad at it; they thought about the pain that comes with the first time; they thought about all the porn they’d watched – yes, I’d, er, they’d watched porn, and whether half the stuff on there was real or f
ake; they thought about what it would be like to see a grown man naked in person for the first time; the list went on.

  I wasn’t sure if Carter sensed just how nervous I was the night of my cousin’s wedding, or whether he knew how raw everything was for me, or if he was just a plain old gentleman. But he did something I’d never expect him to do.

  “Carter, I … This … It’s all new to me,” I admitted after he had learned everything there was to learn about me after my cousin’s wedding. “Having a boyfriend, being in a relationship, being with you,” I stressed because it was worth mentioning that having a known hot-player sex-god as your boyfriend was overwhelming. “I don’t know what to do,” I told him. “I don’t know what to do with all this. I … just … You’re going to have to help me,” I stuttered anxiously and embarrassingly.

  “We’ll take things slow, Em,” he said. “This is all pretty new for me.”

  “But you’re not a virgin!” I yelled a little too loudly. He chuckled. Of course, he chuckled.

  “No, I’m not, but I’ve never had a relationship either, and I’ve certainly never made love to anyone. And when we’re finally together, it won’t be sex. It will be making love.”

  “Tell me about your first time,” I demanded, hoping he’d have some catastrophic story that would make me feel better.

  He didn’t. He was fifteen, the girl was eighteen, and she pretty much told him what to do and how to do it, and apparently, afterward, she called him a pro. Fan-freaking-tastic.

  “I want to date you, Em,” he told me after. “I want to do it all right. Wine you and dine you, make you feel just as comfortable with me as I do with you.”

  And that was exactly what he did for another month.

  He took me to the movies, to dinner, to the park, on a hike. He met me for lunch when I worked nearby. He even took me to a club. That was an interesting experience. I’d been in plenty of bars, even clubs before for work, but I’d never been an active participant.

  When you’re in the thick of things, people have no shame. I got groped and rubbed up on by random people. Carter was seeing red the entire time, and I had to stop him from getting into a couple of fights. I think the only reason we stayed as long as we did was because Carter wanted me to experience it all.