Summer's End

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Summer's End Page 5

by Bliss, Harper


  Maybe five years had been long enough.

  “What exactly are you looking for?” Marianne didn’t have to put the playfulness in her voice, it was there, showing up uninvitedly but welcome nonetheless.

  “Gosh, you really do have quite the collection here.” Emily’s eyes scanned the rows of books feverishly, like a kid in a candy store. For the very first time. With unlimited funds.

  “I would have dusted them off if you’d given me the time.”

  EMILY

  Emily had seen through Marianne’s charade. She might be young and maybe even slightly naive, but she wasn’t stupid.

  She’d spotted Marianne rushing up the stairs, and she’d easily guessed at the reason for her hastiness. It had amused, but also thoroughly aroused her. Maybe more than she’d ever been. Because of the setting and the circumstances, no doubt, but also because of the small signs of a willingness to open up Marianne had started to display.

  There she stood. Rising to the challenge, with her nipples stabbing the fabric of her bikini and her clit a throbbing mess in her swim suit. And maybe she could tell herself it was because of the explicit covers of the books she was browsing, but she knew better. It had everything to do with the woman behind her whose body heat she could feel radiate onto her back.

  As appealing as some of the books looked, Emily’s interest soon wavered. Just as they’d been a ploy for Marianne, they’d been one for her. But, seeing as she didn’t really have a clue as to how to proceed, she played the game a while longer.

  “The one you were reading seemed rather good.” She turned to face Marianne. “Seemed to have a certain urgency to it.”

  “You’re very observant.” Marianne took a step in her direction. The room wasn’t very big as every wall was covered with book cases.

  “So I’ve been told.” The words seemed to roll out of Emily’s mouth as swiftly as the breath out of her lungs. Was this what desire really felt like? This swooping rush of want that knocked the wind out of her?

  Something changed in Marianne’s face then, as though she suddenly recognised the gravity of the situation.

  Emily backed up against the book shelves, the wood prodding her ribcage. Not because she was afraid or hesitant, but because she wanted to lengthen the moment in which Marianne came for her. She never wanted to forget the look on her face, the mixture of need, caution, and relief.

  “You don’t strike me as having doubts about this, but I need to ask, okay?” Marianne’s voice had dropped a register or two. “Are you sure?”

  Emily bit her lip and nodded. She lifted her hands to Marianne’s arms and pulled her close. “God yes,” she whispered before pressing her lips against Marianne’s.

  Instantly, she was lost in the softness of kissing another woman. The utter unexpectedness of it, and the way a simple kiss seemed to change something inside of her, settling in the pit of her stomach and sizzling in her blood.

  The kiss grew from tentative to intense rapidly and Emily felt Marianne’s body crash against her, forcing her ribs to push harder against the shelves. How fitting, she thought, considering the content of the books behind her.

  And how glorious it was to feel a woman’s breasts rub against hers, to feel her nipples perk up against her flesh. The softness of Marianne’s tongue was unlike anything else she’d ever felt. She had tried to imagine it, of course, but her imagination, as it turned out, had been sorely lacking.

  Marianne’s tongue swirled inside of Emily’s mouth with a passion and urgency she had rarely come across in her life. As if she sensed she was getting too lost in the kiss, Marianne pulled back slightly, ending it with a tender peck.

  “Good god,” she exhaled more than said. “I, uh, I’m not sure…”

  Emily could feel her drift off into that dark space she’d slipped off to last night and, as if it was the only antidote, placed her hands on Marianne’s neck and drew her near.

  “Please.” Emily looked straight into her eyes. “Don’t run.” She had to swallow. “Stay.”

  And she did. Marianne’s expression softened, the doubts quickly evaporating from her face, and leaned back in for a kiss.

  It went deeper this time, at least it touched Emily in a deeper place. Because whatever Marianne was battling through and the significance this kiss held for her, this wasn’t a minor moment for Emily either.

  Every dip of Marianne’s tongue inside her mouth carried Emily further away from the life she once knew. She’d always known there was no way back, but now she clearly felt it as well. Amongst other things. Like a flood of liquid releasing between her legs. And a flock of butterflies swarming through her veins.

  “I want you,” she whispered in between kisses. She didn’t know whether she’d really said it or if Marianne had heard it, but they kept on kissing, kept on exploring each other’s mouths with a tenderness that tore down every wall Emily had ever built around herself, and Emily knew she’d never spoken truer words in her life.

  “Me too,” Marianne whispered back eventually, her hands in Emily’s hair. “But it’s complicated. I’m complicated. I have a past and—”

  “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters.” And as she said it, as the words left her mouth in a frenzy of lust and desire, she knew she’d asked for too much too soon.

  Marianne withdrew almost instantly. “You don’t know me, Emily. You don’t know anything about me.” There was a tremor in her voice and her hands shook.

  “Then tell me what I need to know.”

  MARIANNE

  Marianne stared at Emily. Her brain resisted, but every cell in her body begged for mercy, at last. She couldn’t just throw herself at Emily, though. That had never been her style and it wouldn’t be now, either.

  “Let’s talk.” She tried to keep her voice steady, but failed miserably. “Tonight. Let’s have dinner.”

  “You mean a date?”

  Marianne shuddered at the word. “If you will, yes, a date.” She indulged Emily.

  “Can’t wait.” Emily made a play for her, tried to catch Marianne’s wrist in her hand, but, more on instinct than anything else, Marianne recoiled. She regretted it immediately, but Emily had no idea. Not something Marianne could blame her for, but maybe she should protect her. Maybe her first time shouldn’t be with someone like Marianne. Maybe Marianne shouldn’t be so selfish and project all of her repressed desires and years of denied lust on this girl who was merely on holiday, merely passing through, which, truth be told, made her appear even more attractive.

  She could already see the hurt in Emily’s eyes as she withdrew.

  “Whatever it is,” Emily approached her despite Marianne’s reticence, “you think you are, I don’t care about your past. I care about the present, about this moment between us, the simple beauty of it. Please, just try to acknowledge that.” Emily suddenly seemed wise beyond her years.

  “I promise to try.” Marianne allowed Emily to touch her again. “I do.” She pulled Emily close, her fingers disappearing in the wild locks of her hair, and kissed her again. But to Marianne, it was so much more than a kiss. It was a release from the prison of her mind. An escape from years of torment.

  Liquid heat tumbled through her flesh, scorching her bones. She had to restrain herself to not drag Emily to the floor with her and let go of everything there and then. But, unlike that night more than five years ago, Marianne had learned to always let common sense prevail.

  It was hard to resist the raw need, the blazing urgency of desire in Emily’s eyes when they came up for air and locked gazes, but apart from the fact that it was too much too soon, Marianne had a guest house to run. Thank god for that, she thought, for the umpteenth time in her second life.

  “I’ll cook for you,” she said, trying to bring them back to solid ground. “The other guests have made arrangements to go into town.”

  Emily nodded and it looked as if it was all she could muster.

  “I have some errands to run, but Dao is here if you need anything.” Mar
ianne painted on a smile. “Meanwhile, you can borrow any book you like.” She slanted her head and pecked Emily on the nose before stepping away.

  Emily stood there immobile for a while, eyes wide and panting, and another rush of lust swept through Marianne at the sight of her. The shackles are off. God help me. She left the room quickly because she needed to breathe in a different sort of air.

  Back in her bedroom, with the door closed behind her, she crumpled down on the bed and didn’t fight back the tears. They landed in greedy gulps on her cheeks and knees and arms and they felt as much like freedom as the touch of Emily’s tongue against her lips.

  She’d promised Emily some sort of explanation and whereas that burden would have been too much—was too much—yesterday, today she felt stronger, maybe even ready.

  Not that the voice in the back of her mind had completely relinquished control. It was still there, warning not to get in too deep, but really, there wasn’t too much danger of that. Emily would be leaving in a few days, and, as cruel as it may have been, Marianne believed that to be an acceptable arrangement. She’d never had a step-by-step approach because she never had a plan except to get away from the events that changed everything about her life, as far as possible, but now that this opportunity presented itself, she knew she had to take it. And, in a way, it was helpful to know that, no matter what happened, a certain boundary simply could not be crossed. It was a precaution Marianne desperately needed.

  She took off her clothes, looked at her short black bob in the mirror, the brown of her eyes and the flecks of yellow in them, the swell of her biceps and the squareness of her shoulder line, and, uncharacteristically, thought, why the hell not, before heading for the shower in the en-suite bathroom.

  EMILY

  Emily had acted on instinct as much as on desire and she had no way of knowing that, a mere half hour after following Marianne up the stairs, she’d stand trembling with her back against a bunch of lesbian erotica anthologies. She turned around and browsed them again, but they couldn’t hold her interest anymore. She didn’t want words, least of all sentences on paper—no matter how arousing. She wanted action, soft hands on her breasts and nipples in her mouth.

  She made her way down and headed straight into the ocean, in desperate need of cooling off. Time went by excruciatingly slowly, as if slowing down to torment her. She couldn’t focus on her book, didn’t find any songs she wanted to listen to on her iPod, and when Dao served her a drink on the patio, it felt odd to not receive it from Marianne.

  She watched the other couple leave and exhaled, hoping they wouldn’t return too soon. She waited in vain for a glimpse of Marianne, but either she took her sweet time with the errands or she was actively avoiding Emily until their ‘date’. Maybe she had pushed it by calling it that. But maybe Marianne needed a little push. Maybe it was all she needed.

  Just as Emily headed to her room to get ready, Marianne walked in.

  “Dinner in an hour?” she asked dryly, almost matter-of-factly, as if nothing had changed since she’d asked the same question two nights ago.

  Emily nodded and wondered what on earth she’d do with herself the next hour. She opted for a quick shower and a stroll on the beach to at least make an attempt at clearing her head. The problem was that she had no desire to forget about anything that had happened since she arrived.

  Marianne served a simple cold beef salad, which tasted delicious enough, but Emily experienced some trouble with her appetite. The moment Marianne had sat down opposite her, hunger had ceased to be of any importance in Emily’s world.

  Instead of the black t-shirts Emily had only seen her in, Marianne wore a tight sleeveless blouse and the sight of it nearly cut of Emily’s air supply.

  They’d moved a table out of the garden onto the beach and the early evening roar of the ocean was their only soundtrack. Emily didn’t really know where to begin or what to ask, so she resorted to pushing around a piece of meat on her plate.

  “You don’t like it?” Marianne’s eyes flickered in the light of the oil lamp that dangled from a makeshift stand next to their table.

  “On the contrary, really, it’s just—”

  “Are you nervous?” The kindness oozing from Marianne’s face melted Emily’s heart. She could feel it turn to liquid in her chest. Where before a hardness had surrounded it, a line of defence she didn’t even knew she had, now it all lay open, ready for whatever was to come.

  “A little.” For the first time, Emily felt her age. Opposite her sat a woman with so many more years of experience in life and love than her, and she thought it best to let Marianne do the talking. Wasn’t that what they were here for, anyway?

  Not seeming very hungry herself, Marianne shoved her plate away and instead focused her attention on the bottle of beer that accompanied the dish.

  “This is all rather romantic, of course.” She cast her eyes to the sky above. “It’s a full moon as well.”

  “Perfect,” Emily said before nervously taking a swig from her beer.

  “I don’t know what’s going on between us, Emily. I have no idea where you came from all of a sudden and why you make me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time… Well, have allowed myself to feel to be more exact.” She gave a tense chuckle. “That kiss this afternoon took me by surprise and at the same time, it felt as if it was a long time coming, even though you’ve barely just arrived.” Marianne bit her lip before continuing. “It takes someone very special to make me feel like that. I need you to know that.”

  Emily nodded. To her surprise, Marianne pushed her chair back.

  “Do you want to go for a walk?”

  “I’d love to.”

  They carried the dishes inside and Marianne locked the back door before they set off into the darkness.

  “I was twenty-five when I met the love of my life.” Marianne’s fingers found Emily’s in the dark and entwined themselves with hers. “Her name was Ingrid and she swept me off my feet. Quite literally. We ran into each other while both turning a corner in a hurry. At first, I wanted to yell at this stranger who had the audacity to steal my precious time—I was that kind of person back then. But she changed me. Changed everything about me.”

  Marianne’s fingers gripped tighter. They walked barefoot along the shoreline, the waves casually licking their toes.

  “I was a junior investment banker and I thought I was terribly important managing other people’s money.” Marianne’s tight laugh sounded bitter in the night. “But all it took to disarm me was a smile.” She paused. “Gosh, that sounds terribly cheesy, but that’s how I’ve always remembered it.”

  Marianne pointed at and old overturned boat away from the shoreline. “Let’s sit there for a moment.” She didn’t let go of Emily’s hand when they approached the boat and leaned against it for support.

  “We fell in love. Made a life together. Were ridiculously happy together until…” Emily felt her stomach tighten. Marianne’s hand slipped out of her grasp.

  “I killed her.”

  Silence surrounded them. The night was black around them, except for a few night lights of beach houses. Emily thought she had misheard, but then Marianne repeated, “I killed the woman I loved more than anything in this world.”

  MARIANNE

  Marianne felt Emily stiffen next to her.

  “It was a car wreck. We were in a crash and it was my fault. I shouldn’t have been driving in the state I was in, but I had insisted and we were fighting and I didn’t see...” She had to catch her breath. “I didn’t see the lorry because I was looking at her, I was berating her for losing money, and when we crashed I hardly had a scratch on me because her side of the car had taken the impact.”

  Marianne closed her eyes and the tears sprang free. Her voice didn’t change pitch and her hands didn’t shake, but on the inside, on the back of her eyelids, it was all happening again.

  “She died on the way to the hospital.” She swallowed away some tears. “And it was my fault. I’d been
so angry with her for investing her money in her friend’s company after I’d categorically advised her against it—that was my business after all. But that was what she was like. She’d give away her last scrap of clothing to a homeless person. And I was yelling at her about it seconds before she died. It killed her.”

  Marianne wiped the tears from her eyes, but they kept on coming. “And you know what the police did? They took away my license for a year.” She puffed out some air. “That’s it. That’s how they punish you for killing someone in the motherland.”

  Emily was eerily quiet beside her.

  “God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laid this on you. It’s not fair and it’s not your burden to bear.” Marianne wanted to get up and walk away, but she was afraid her legs wouldn’t carry her.

  “This happened five years ago?” One of Emily’s fingers approached her, but Marianne pulled back. She had to. Saying it out loud—after all this time—had convinced her once again that she wasn’t worthy to be touched. Especially not by a girl like Emily.

  “Yes,” came her curt reply.

  “And all this time you haven’t allowed yourself to be happy for one moment?”

  “Of course not.” She sniffed loudly, losing all sense of decorum. “Ingrid’s dead.”

  “But it was an accident.” Emily’s voice sounded thin and insecure.

  “An accident I caused.”

  “But still an accident,” Emily whispered, while her hand made another approach. Marianne felt the heat shoot through her and briefly allowed it to warm her up inside.

 

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