by Piper Payne
Jesse got up, grabbed my hand, and brought me over to the couch. I hadn’t realized my hands were shaking as I relived my past. It wasn’t the words I was saying that caused the flood of emotions; it was the vivid details of my memory. I sat sideways with my knees curled up and my head rested on the couch while he ran his fingers through my hair.
“This is your story. You can stop whenever you want to, Larkin.”
“I just want to get it all out,” I whispered, “Then maybe you’ll see why you should stay away from me.”
I cleared my throat and the rest just poured from my mouth. “I didn’t want to end up like my mother so when I got to Salt Lake I completely started over, but the hardest part was relieving myself from the guilt of her death. I tried to look into my mother’s case again a few years later when I started law school but all records of her disappeared. So I forced myself to move on. For the first time I was happy. I started living. Finally, my past didn’t define who I was anymore, because I fought so hard to let go of it all.”
I liked Jesse, more than I should, and even that was still less than I wanted to admit. So confessing everything to him felt degrading, but unfortunately I was the one who drew him into this mess and I knew he had a right to know. I told him about the past couple of months’ events, starting with the day Landon almost ran me over in the parking lot all the way to when my world came crashing down around me in his office. The more I talked, the more I struggled to hang on to the hope that Landon ever had any true feelings for me. It was as if sorting through the events of our relationship put into perspective how wrong I truly was.
“It felt real to me. I know that sounds crazy but he really did make me believe what was happening between us was real. I finally felt like my past no longer defined me. I never expected for the mistakes of my mother to be still haunting me all these years later.”
The key. The storage unit. The money. The videotape. I numbly told my stories in haunting detail. I stood up and started to pace in his living room, “This is why you shouldn’t get involved! We should’ve never showed up at your house that night. I’m so sorry.” I said with sorrow. Shaking my head, I wiped a stubborn tear from my eye.
Jesse moved quickly toward me. “Don’t. Don’t start apologizing. I’m glad you came here.” He grabbed my arm, turning me to face him. “We’ll figure this out, okay? Thank you for telling me everything.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I leaned into his touch as he placed his hand on my chin. “I didn’t think I could admire you anymore than I already do, but I was wrong. Larkin, everything you’ve been through…” he stared into my eyes “…and everything you’ve had to overcome makes me stand here in awe.”
My eyes searched his and I swallowed my objections; he was a blind fool. “How could someone who came from something so ugly make you feel that way?”
“Because it made you perfect.” He ran the pad of his thumb across my lip as I held my breath listening to my heart pound in my chest. The world stopped for a moment and I found myself desperately craving for him to kiss me. I wanted him to make everything else go away.
“We should probably get some sleep. It’s been a long day. We can talk about this more later,” he said, letting go of me and walking away.
He locked up the house and after saying goodnight he went into his bedroom and shut the door. I still stood there feeling everything I wished I didn’t feel. How could any of us come out of this unscathed? I finally willed myself to carry my bag of belongings into the spare bedroom. I changed into my pajamas and checked my phone finding waiting messages from Landon.
Landon: I am begging you, please don’t do this. My world has changed since I met you. Please don’t say it’s over. It can’t be over. You’re the person I’ve been waiting for my entire life. I will not let you go.
The thought that he could know Robert and his father were looking for us left me disgusted. That because of Landon, no matter how big or small of a part he has played, he had put everyone I care about in danger. I needed answers from him and it was killing me that I had to wait until Aspen. The bitter taste of betrayal made every moment with him spoiled. I’d said my goodbye, swallowed it down like a big, sharp, nasty pill.
“Hey, Juju,” I answered my phone as it rang in my hands.
“Hey, Lark.” Her voice was hesitant, buffering me for what she had to say without actually giving me a warning.
“What happened?”
“Landon happened,” she said, irritated. “He showed up at my work today looking for you. I’m pretty sure he’ll show up at Max and Austin’s too, if he hasn’t already.”
“What did he say?” I sat down on the bed, my legs no longer wanting to hold me up.
“He made a scene at the nurses’ station trying to get someone to page me. I was in the middle of my rounds and refused to speak with him, so security had to escort him out of the hospital. He was distraught. Absofuckinglutely distraught.”
The only response I had was to sigh. He was still pretending. Soon enough he’d realize I’ve figured out what he’s done.
“He’s trying to find you so please be careful. Even a monster can mask himself as Prince Charming.”
After I got off the phone with June I could hear Jesse playing his guitar in the living room; this time the music was full of sorrow. I sat there listening but wanted to be closer, closer to the music and closer to him, so I opened the bedroom door and with my journal, I quietly walked into the living room and curled up on the couch. He was completely in his own world, consumed by the meaning of his melody. It was soft and harmonic, textured with the sound of his fingers shifting on the strings. He was sitting on a chair next to a slowly burning fire, the flames dancing on his shirtless skin, every muscle defined in the glow. With my knees curled up on the couch, I laid my head on my arms and watched as he expertly played, every note moved something inside of me, shifting things buried dark and deep. He noticed I was there but didn’t seem to mind. As he played his hazel eyes kept looking into mine and with the reflection of the flames they burned bright gold.
I needed to sort out my feelings that were decaying my brain cells, so I opened up my journal and let them dissolve onto paper. I orchestrated my pen to say the words I didn’t dare say. On paper what I wrote was honest and free of judgment and doubt. Words free to live and be said, purged from my mind, no longer tied on the tip of my tongue. It didn’t matter if it was wrong or right. On paper it was just me. I’d been trying to ignore how I felt toward Jesse, lying to myself, too scared to acknowledge the feelings that kept clawing their way to the surface. When I was around him my world was different. My breathing calmed and my mind cleared. With Jesse things didn’t seem as … broken.
Trying to explain it wouldn’t make it a fairytale. There’s no justification that makes me feel any less guilty for wanting him because he makes me feel sane. He’s like a slow burning fuse, he lit the match and like an arsonist I’ve been watching the spark trail along getting closer and closer to my combustible heart. How can I explain that every time I’m around Jesse my darkness seems to dwindle until I no longer feel its asphyxiation? When I look at him he looks back at me. He sees me. Not just the bad but he digs around to see my good. My scars don’t scare him, in fact it’s the opposite, he’s drawn to them in poetic appreciation, like I’m stronger for using the razor instead of being weak. I want him because when he touches me it feels honest, when he comforts me I feel a flicker of peace, and when he makes me smile I feel happiness deep in my chest.
He played a few more songs, changing the mood, and it lulled me into a state of calm, quieting my loud screaming mind with a euphoric fog. It was the first time I’d felt like that in a while. I’d gotten used to the stinging discomfort of anarchy. As the fire died down, he set aside his guitar and walked over and stood before me. I closed my journal and stretched out my legs, scooting to the edge of the couch. I knew what he was asking and it was exactly where I wanted him to be. Sometimes everything you needed to say was deeper
than words could express.
He slid behind me, skin hot from the fireplace warming my body I didn’t know was cold. He pulled me close and with his lips near my ear I could hear the trepidation in his breathing that matched my own, an unsteady balance of trying to remain in control. We tangled our legs together and watched the fire dwindle. Happiness wasn’t defined in years or in decades. It was defined in those single dwindling moments collected throughout life, when sadness was no longer strong enough to hold weight against your smile.
“Jesse, why were there white feathers in the dahlias you gave me?” I whispered, closing my eyes, waiting for the sound of his voice.
He took my wrist and ran his fingers over my inked skin. “Because you were my guardian angel that night.”
I awoke wrapped up in a soft blanket and not in Jesse’s arms; a little origami bird made out of music sheet paper was perched on the couch. It was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. A giddy smile grew on my face as I picked it up. Every fold was perfect and crisp; I could see music notes written in pencil and I instantly cherished it.
Warm morning sunlight shone through the windows as Jesse’s musky verbena and lemon smell lingered on everything around me. I wished I could lie there all day. I padded down the hall, bird in hand, and peeked into Jesse’s room but he wasn’t there and the bed was still made. I decided to jump in the shower, his blue tiled bathroom reminded me of a cleaning commercial: white porcelain and squeaky clean. I turned on some music before jumping inside the steam hoping to keep my mind preoccupied rather than overanalyze how much closer Jesse and I became last night.
Two songs and few gallons of water later I suddenly heard, “Who knew my angel had a beautiful voice?” I paused mid lyric, choking so the word I sang came out like a squealing car brake.
I pulled back the shower curtain to see Jesse standing there, arms folded, leaning against the sink, hair sexy and disheveled, white tee, worn jeans, and a big smirk across his face.
“How long have you been standing there?” I screeched, trying to keep myself covered with the shower curtain.
“Long enough to know you’ve been holding back. You never told me you could sing.” He laughed, trying to dodge the water I was splashing at him.
“Get out!” I yelled, going from water splashing to throwing the bar of soap in my hand, trying to distract him from seeing my bright red face.
“I should’ve held out a little longer and then maybe I could’ve seen what else you’ve been hiding.” I blushed and shut myself back behind the curtain. “That is unless you need me to help you wash your back or those sexy fucking legs of yours.”
“Jesse!” I scolded, covering my face in embarrassment. I’m going to have to turn the faucet to cold in a second.
“I just wanted to tell you I ran to the store really quick to pick up some groceries. I didn’t dare wake you because you looked so cute and sleepy.” I smiled at his words. “I’ll let you finish. Just promise me that you won’t hold back on my account.” His voice purred, smoky and seductive.
“What?” I scrunched my brows confused while rinsing out my hair. I needed to hurry and get out of the shower, being naked in the same room as him was not helping anything.
“When you touched yourself. I loved hearing the quiet little moans from you the other night while you were in here.”
My eyes went wide as I stood there registering what he’d said. Humiliation flooded through me. I grabbed my mouth, mortified. Oh my God!
I heard the door shut and after a minute of silence I peeked out to make sure he was gone. Dear Journal, I just had the most humiliating moment of my life …
I walked into the kitchen trying not to show how awkward I felt. I did my makeup and hair in the bathroom because if I was going to be embarrassed I was at least going to look good while having to endure the humiliation of him hearing my orgasm tub experience.
Jesse was sitting at the kitchen bar with his phone up to his ear. “Sorry, I was going to have breakfast ready but I had to take a call,” he whispered, covering the mouthpiece.
“That’s okay.” I smiled as I looked at the counter of groceries. There was enough to feed a family of six for a week. I started unloading the bags trying to figure out where to put everything away. His phone call sounded like it would take a while so I pulled out all the ingredients to start making blueberry pancakes and my own blueberry syrup. I was happy that I could make breakfast. It was the least I could do and cooking was one of the things I was good at to show him I wasn’t a complete waste of space.
Jesse sat and watched me as I began to cook. Mid phone conversation he got up off the barstool and came into the kitchen dipping his finger into the syrup mixture I was making and then licked it off.
“That looked so good I couldn’t wait,” he whispered again. He was teasing me, but that still didn’t mean I didn’t watch every single movement of his lips and tongue.
“Sorry about that,” he said as he hung up his phone. The call was business for the most part and I picked up that he was into real estate of some type.
“You didn’t have to make breakfast, but I’m glad you did because everything looks incredible. How did you learn to cook?”
“If I didn’t teach myself how to cook, I would’ve starved so I learned how at a very early age.”
His brows furrowed for a second. “What’s your favorite thing to cook?”
“Mmmm … anything with lemon.” I smirked at my own inside joke.
“All I know about cooking with lemons is that they taste great in a beer.” He laughed, popping a few blueberries into his mouth.
He came over and helped me flip the pancakes. “So what is it that you do for work?” I asked.
“Mostly investments. When I was eighteen my band signed with a major label in L.A. but after almost two years, things didn’t really take off like we had expected. The label dropped us so I moved back to Utah and used the money I’d made out there to invest in some properties.” He picked up a blueberry and motioned for me to catch it in my mouth as he threw it. “I have some that are commercial or that I use as rentals and a few other projects I’m working on. It lets me spend more time working on my music.”
I missed the first blueberry he threw but caught the rest; I stuck my tongue out at him because he launched them trying to make me miss. “So did you grow up here?”
“Born and raised. My mom still lives in the same house I grew up in just down the road.” He pointed his thumb toward the window and down the street.
The thought that he lived near his mom made me smile. “Are you close with your family?”
“Yeah, we’re really close.” He beamed. “I’ve always been close to my mom and sister. In fact, we are going there tonight for dinner and you’ll get to meet them.”
“What?” I said, almost dropping and shattering the dishes I was carrying over to the table.
“Relax.” He walked toward me, laughing. “It’s tradition to go over to my mom’s house for dinner on Sundays.”
“But … but …”
“I already told her I was bringing you. She’ll be hurt if you don’t come.” He looked at me sweetly, tilting his head like there was no arguing with that statement.
“I can’t, Jesse.”
“Why not?”
“I just …” This was when I usually lied. I’d tell the guy absolutely anything to get out of meeting his family. I’d used every excuse in the book, but to my surprise the truth slipped out without me even trying. “I don’t do the whole family thing.”
“What do you mean you don’t do the whole family thing?” He arched a brow.
“I’ve never been around anyone’s family before.” I shrugged sheepishly.
“What do you mean you’ve never been around anyone’s family before?” I gave him a dirty look for repeating everything I said, but he just smiled smugly, really wanting to know.
“I mean I’ve never been around anyone’s family. It scares the shit out of me.”
/> “No one as is in boyfriends?” he asked curiously, dipping his finger into the syrup again.
“No one as in no one. I had no family except for my mom. Everyone she married was alone or estranged from their families. June was my first real friend and well you know her family’s story. Every time a guy wanted me to meet his parents I freaked out. I’ve just never been around a family before. I don’t know how to do it.” I avoided eye contact with him but could still feel him staring at me. When I finally looked up I saw sadness in his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s fine. I’ll just stay here and you go. I don’t want you to miss it.” I finished setting the table and walked back into the kitchen to take the syrup off the stove.
“You’re going.”
“No, really, Jesse, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” I put my hands up as he walked closer to me.
“You’re going, even if I have to carry you there.” He picked me up over his shoulder and smacked my ass carrying me over to the table and setting me down in the chair. I huffed at the ridiculousness, especially since I knew he was serious. I dropped it; I would just have to figure another way out of it later.
I watched as he drizzled syrup all over his pancakes. I laughed each time he gave me a complimentary moan.
“I don’t like the idea of you going back to work tomorrow,” he said in between bites of food.
“I don’t like the idea of it either, but I can’t lose my job. And in a stubborn way I don’t want them to scare me out of my own life. Plus, it sounded like both Franklin and Robert were headed back to Aspen so hopefully they’ll stay there until we arrive.”
“But once he knows you’re out of hiding don’t you think he’ll come back for you? What about Landon? It’s not worth it to take that chance.” He set his fork down, the topic ruining his appetite.