Summer's End

by Bliss, Harper

  “I sold everything and moved here.” Suddenly, she felt like she needed Emily’s touch and she grasped her fingers. “We’d come here on our first big holiday together and we were so happy here. It was the first time I really felt it, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. So, that’s what I did. I came back here to mourn her and to make sure I never forget her—nor what I did.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Yeah.”

  They sat in silence for a while. Marianne didn’t expect Emily to say anything because what could she possibly say.

  “It must seem as if I’m wallowing in self-pity here on my island, some sort of fake exile in paradise, but I needed to do this. I needed to come here. If that makes sense at all.”

  “I won’t claim to understand the extent of your pain, and what happened was terrible.” Emily scooted closer and Marianne admired her confidence. “But don’t you think you’ve suffered enough?”

  What was enough? Could it ever be enough?

  “I don’t know. This is my life now. It has its moments, its ups and downs, but not too many. And that’s the only way I can live.”

  Emily brought Marianne’s hand to her lips and pressed a tender kiss on it, causing Marianne to retract it instantly.

  “It’s not the only way. It can’t possibly be.” Emily was persistent. But what did she know? She was twenty-four years old. Younger even than when Marianne had met the woman she’d spent more than ten years with. She’d just left her fiancé and perhaps that had taken some courage but really, what other choice did she have?

  “I hope you understand the reason why I can’t—I mean, why this can’t go any further. In fact, it has already gone too far.” Marianne pushed herself up from the boat. She had enough decency to not leave Emily by herself in the dark. “I’ll walk you back.”

  “Wait.” Emily’s feet made splashing sounds onto the wet sand.

  Marianne turned around to face her. She could barely make out Emily’s features in the darkness of the night. It was easier that way. “You don’t want to be with me.” She tried to stress her point.

  “Says who?” Emily’s reply came quickly, her voice much harsher than Marianne had expected. “You?” She took a step closer. Marianne could feel her breath float over her cheeks. “And how would you know?” She paused for effect. “And what if I do? What if I really, really want to?”

  Marianne had to take a second to let all the questions register. “It’s not only up to you.”

  “Oh, I know that.” Was that the blooming barrister coming out in young Emily? “But when you kissed me this afternoon, you didn’t leave a doubt in my mind.”

  “It was a moment of weakness. I—”

  “Don’t you get tired of this, Marianne? All this defence? All this endlessly feeling sorry for yourself? This blatant refusal to live? You’re forty years old, for god’s sake. Your life’s not over yet.”

  Marianne started to get annoyed. She hadn’t come here to get a talking-to, let alone by someone who’d barely lived at all. “And spending three months on your own in a different continent makes you an expert, does it?”

  “No.” Emily shook her head. “But it’s an easy excuse to hold against me. So is my age. But I saw what I saw in your eyes, Marianne. I saw the desire to live, to feel again. Just… give yourself a chance.”

  “But that’s just it. Ingrid didn’t get a second chance, and nor should I.”

  EMILY

  Emily was completely out of her depth, but she felt as though she needed to push. She was fairly certain Marianne didn’t take a lot of people on a walk to talk about Ingrid and she needed to make the most of the moment. But years of loneliness and being convinced of her own guilt had obviously made Marianne very stubborn.

  “Why did you bring me here?”

  “What?” Despite the darkness and the remnants of tears on Marianne’s face, despite her reluctance and the fact she obviously clung to any refusal to move on, Emily could still see it in Marianne’s eyes. The fire that had blazed in them before she’d leaned in to kiss her. The desire to break free.

  “When was the last time you told someone about this?”

  “I haven’t told…” Marianne hesitated. Emily heard her breathing get back to a more normal rhythm. “A long time.”

  “Then why did you tell me?”

  “Because I clearly owed you an explanation after last night and this afternoon.”

  “No, you didn’t. Not really.” Emily wanted to step even closer, wanted to wrap her arms around Marianne and hold her for a long time. “You don’t owe me anything. I’m just a guest in the Lodge where you’ve decided to hide from life.”

  “You’re not just a guest… and you know it.”

  Relief rushed through Emily. It was true that she was young and her bravest act up until now had been to run away. She’d fled the scene of her crime as well. While she could hardly compare her own anguish to the unbearable pain Marianne must have been in since Ingrid’s death, she had a lot of sympathy for the way in which Marianne had decided to cope. But if there was one thing she’d come to accept on this journey, it was that everyone deserves to be happy in their own way and on their own terms.

  She inched closer, the heat blazing off Marianne’s frustrated body instantly palpable. “Come here, please.” She opened her arms and waited for Marianne to accept the invitation. “Please.”

  There were only two ways Marianne could go. Forward or backwards. If she turned around and went back to the lodge, Emily knew it would be over. If she met her halfway, if she let Emily embrace her, there was a chance.

  It took another few long seconds before Marianne finally moved. Tears ran down her cheeks again and her fists were clenched into tight balls. But she made the leap. She walked into Emily’s open arms and allowed herself to be hugged.

  Emily curled her arms around Marianne’s waist and pulled her close. “Who says you don’t deserve to live?” she whispered in Marianne’s ear. “Who says you don’t deserve it?”

  Marianne’s response came in long, deep sobs. She relaxed her shoulders and Emily felt her fingers dig deep into the flesh of her back while she cried, raining tears all over her body.

  Emily let Marianne cry for a few minutes before gently coaxing her in the direction of the Lodge. She pried the keys from Marianne’s jeans shorts, opened the back door—relieved not to find the other guests back yet—and helped a limp Marianne up the stairs to her room.

  The scene was a far cry from how she had expected the night to go. Then again, she hadn’t really known what to expect, although tales of guilt and death had not exactly been on her mind. A love gone wrong maybe. Or some femme fatale who had broken her heart. But certainly not this.

  She looked at the broken woman sitting on the bed in front of her and kneeled down. A tenderness she didn’t know she had in her swooped over Emily. She’d only just met Marianne, but she most definitely cared for her in ways she was only just discovering.

  What a pair, she thought, as she shifted the sheets to the side and lowered Marianne onto the mattress.

  “Stay,” Marianne whispered. “Please, stay with me tonight.”

  Emily shot her a smile, one that even warmed her own heart. “Of course.”

  She slipped out of her shorts, but kept the rest on, walked to the other side of the bed and climbed in with Marianne. After switching off the lights she slung her arms over Marianne and held her through the night.

  Emily barely slept, and she didn’t know if Marianne drifted off or not, but they didn’t speak. They just lay there, quietly, finding strength in one another’s silent company.

  Emily knew it was more important than anything else.

  MARIANNE

  Marianne woke up with her arms around another woman. She blinked against the lingering darkness and made out Emily’s blonde mane of hair. She checked the alarm clock on the nightstand and waited for the first light of dawn to filter through the window. The curtains had been left open and soon the
room would be bathed in bright light.

  Because, this morning, she felt as if she had no real reason not to, she held onto Emily a little while longer. Her head hurt from crying, her nose bunched up and her eyes swollen. Before ticking off her mental to do list—another guest was arriving today, resulting in a full house—she allowed herself a moment to process last night.

  She didn’t even have to ask herself if something had really—fundamentally—changed. There was another woman in her bed. And although nothing physical had transpired between them, everything was different now because, somehow, Emily had gotten through to her on a deeply emotional level—one she’d considered a no-go zone years ago.

  A tween. Generation Y. Wasn’t that what they were called these days? It just goes to show, she thought, how people can utterly amaze you. She crawled a bit nearer to Emily and pressed her stuffed nose into the girl’s hair. Once again, emotion engulfed her, like a shot of heroine in her veins, it seemed to immobilise and entrance her at the same time, until she felt Emily stir beneath her.

  “Morning,” she whispered.

  “What time is it?” Emily’s voice sounded as if it needed to be ironed.

  “Six.” Marianne huddled closer.

  “How utterly dreadful.” Emily backed up against her, sighed, and went back to sleep. Not a morning person then.

  Marianne figured she could forego her morning beach run just this once. What better occasion than a woman in her bed? Now that the room was filled with morning light, her eyes caught hold of the picture of Ingrid and her. And, for an instant, it did feel like a lifetime ago. Marianne was not the same person anymore. She’d changed for the first time after meeting Ingrid. For a second time after the fatal crash. God, how she longed for the next transformation.

  Emily’s words had kept playing in her mind throughout a fitful night. Who says you can’t be happy? There was only one person standing in her way, Marianne knew, and it was herself.

  In her sleep, Emily turned on her back, her wrinkled face aimed directly at Marianne, forcing a smile to her lips. Then another thought slowly made its way into Marianne’s mind.

  It was Saturday, August the thirty-first. It was her forty-first birthday. She didn’t want a cake, but she knew what she did want.

  As if Emily had read her mind while she was sleeping, her eyes flew open. “What day is it today?” she croaked.

  “Saturday.”

  A wide grin appeared on Emily’s face. “Looks like you’re over the hill then.” She pushed herself up, shoving Marianne’s arm off her in the process, and straddled her. “Happy birthday.” Her eyes sparkled in the golden light of sunrise. She leaned down, her arms resting on either side of Marianne’s head, and pecked her softly on each cheek.

  Something loosened in the pit of Marianne’s stomach, but she had no time to dwell on it.

  “What do you want for your birthday?” Emily’s tone was not insistent, more probing and careful not to make assumptions.

  “You,” Marianne replied without hesitation.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Emily shot her a wide smile. One that dislodged another tight knot deep beneath Marianne’s ribcage. She bent her elbows and this time, her mouth didn’t aim for Marianne’s cheeks. Her lips landed on Marianne’s and the kiss sent a spark of desire right up her spine. She responded by grabbing hold of Emily’s neck and pulling her close, until she realised that, despite it being her birthday, it was a day like any other at the Lodge.

  “I can’t… not right now…” She tried to say in between passionate lip locks. “I have guests and—”

  “Dao will take care of them. It’s your birthday.” Emily had stretched her body on top of Marianne’s and her nipples pressed into Marianne’s flesh. She could hardly argue with that. She tried anyway.

  “I have to help her. I’m always there.”

  Emily nipped at her neck. “Today you’re not. And you know what? The place is not going to crumble to the ground. The world will still turn. The guests will not leave.”

  “God, you’re bossy.” Marianne couldn’t suppress a smile.

  “I know.” Emily stared down at her with her big blue eyes. “It’s one of my quirks.”

  “Thank you for last night.” The words just came. Marianne didn’t have to think about them or weigh them. “You’ve no idea what it meant to me.”

  “I do.” Emily nodded and chewed the inside of her lip.

  “You’re beautiful and kind and so very thoughtful.” Marianne cupped Emily’s chin with her hands.

  “Oh yeah?” Emily’s eyes sparkled. “And you’re bloody hot.” She bent down and found Marianne’s ear. “And I want you so much.”

  EMILY

  Maybe Emily gave the impression that she knew what she was doing, but she didn’t have a clue. Her entire body was buzzing, her heart drumming with desire and her blood pulsing with lust. And she really needed Marianne to take charge, but didn’t know if she was in the right state of mind to do so.

  She’d had the fantasy often, and even indulged in it while lying next to Marianne in her bed last night. A sensual initiation by someone who knew exactly what they were doing. She was twenty-four, formerly engaged and hardly a virgin, but when it came to this, when it came to sleeping with another woman, she might as well have been.

  “God, I want you too,” Marianne whispered back and Emily felt her body grow rigid underneath hers for an instant. It was only Marianne tensing her muscles so she could topple Emily off of her and take place on top of her.

  “You’ve come here and you’ve turned my world upside down.” Marianne looked down at her, her face still blotched from last night’s tears, her hair a mess from sleeping, and Emily felt exactly the same way.

  If this was going to be her first time with a woman—and it was—then what could be better than this? It was unexpected, yes, but was she supposed to have planned for it then? And all those thoughts, as meaningful and deep as they were, they dissolved instantly when Marianne traced a line with her fingertip over Emily’s nipple.

  “I’ll try to go slow.” Marianne’s voice had grown husky while her fingers drew circles around Emily’s nipple. “But it won’t be easy.” With that, she pinched Emily’s nipple between her thumb and index finger, causing Emily’s breath to stop in her lungs.

  Do whatever you want to me, Emily wanted to say, but the words stayed lodged behind the lump in her throat. With eager fingers, she pulled at Marianne’s sleep-crumpled blouse. She wanted it off of her. She wanted skin on skin and fingers on her naked breasts and, more than anything, inside of her.

  The blouse was tight and Marianne helped her hoist it over her head. Emily had seen her in a bikini, but it was hardly the same as the white lace bra she was wearing now and she couldn’t help but wonder if Marianne had dressed to impress—and if wearing an actual bra for once was part of that plan. Emily fumbled with the lock and held her breath until Marianne’s breasts sprang free. Emily had seen naked breasts before, but never like this.

  Her eyes locked with Marianne’s. She noticed what Emily seeing her naked from the waist up did to her. Emily saw the years of pent-up everything—lust, life, love—flash in the dark of Marianne’s eyes. It erupted in the blush on her cheek bones, in the sudden drops of sweat on her forehead, and the raggedness of her breath.

  “Take me,” Emily said. “Don’t go slow on my account. Please.”

  It seemed as if Marianne had lost the power of speech altogether. As if the time had come for her body to work through it now, to chase away the demons of the past. She tore at Emily’s t-shirt and bra, yanking them over her head, causing the entire expanse of Emily’s skin to break out in goosebumps.

  Marianne’s lips captured her left nipple, gently licking it first, before sucking it into her mouth and taking it between her teeth. Emily buried her hands in Marianne’s hair, digging her nails deep into her scalp, spurring her on.

  Maybe Emily had always known—because how could she not?—but if she didn’t, she kne
w now. Because this was, no doubt, what it was always supposed to have felt like. Fire and abandon. Heat and passion. Desire and emotion crashing together the way their skin did. The way everything about them did.

  Emily couldn’t stop herself, as if a madwoman had taken possession of her body and wormed her way under her skin. She pushed Marianne’s head down, because if no one was going to attend to the mess down there soon, she’d lose all control—and she was already well on her way.

  Slow. What a joke.

  Marianne caught the hint and kissed her way down Emily’s belly. Not with soft pecks, but licking and kissing and biting frantically, because this was as much a first for her as it was for Emily.

  She hitched her fingers under the waistband of Emily’s panties and tore them off her. Emily greedily helped her by wildly kicking the panties off her legs.

  And then there she lay. Naked and wet. Her legs spread for another woman. Her cunt pulsing with need. Watching Marianne as she rested her gaze between her legs made Emily dizzy with desire. Why had she wasted so much time on boys? If a simple look from another woman could make her feel this way?

  No time to dwell, because Marianne lowered her head and Emily didn’t want to miss a second of that. She flicked her tongue along Emily’s pubic hair, planting gentle kisses, inhaling deeply. Emily wanted to scream and beg and plead, but she also knew she had to give this moment to Marianne to truly share it.

  The first touch of Marianne’s tongue on her clit nearly sent her reeling.

  “Oh god,” she moaned, her hand searching for something to hold on to. She found Marianne’s hand, splayed out on the bed next to Emily’s shivering body. She intertwined her fingers with Marianne’s while an onslaught of licks and flicks was launched on her clit and pussy lips. Emily didn’t know how long she was supposed to last, how long this was supposed to go on for, but her body was already giving way.