by Janey, C. S.
“Will do,” I promised as she enveloped me in a hug.
Then I left, the remnants of the discussion I just had with my mom not far from my mind as I drove to Grace’s house.
~*~
“Hello?” I opened Grace’s front door, calling out as I stepped inside and shut the door. Not seeing her car outside, I wondered if the car was in the shop and entered the house. Nobody ever locked their doors here. Walking to the kitchen, I called out again. “Grace?”
Backtracking to the steps by the front door that headed upstairs, I took a step just as the door opened behind me.
I turned around to find Stefan standing there.
“What are you doing here?”
My eyebrows shot up. I put my hands on my hips and scowled. “Me? I was invited. What are you doing here?”
He grinned, closing the door. “I got a text from her asking me if I wanted Lyndsey for the afternoon.”
“Isn’t Lyndsey in daycare?”
“She’s supposed to be.” He shrugged. “I thought perhaps she’d not gone today.”
“Well,” I said with a sweep of my hand, realizing she had tricked both of us. “She’s not here and I think it’s safe to assume she’s not going to be here.”
Chuckling, he crossed his arms over his chest, his wide stance blocking me on the step so I only had one way to go. “A set up then. I just might forgive her for lying to me at this rate.”
“And here I was, willing to apologize for my behavior to her at the party, but perhaps I’ve changed my mind.”
He lifted a hand to my face, cupping my face in his hands. “Don’t be that way. She’s just trying to help,” he said softly. “She royally screwed up and she knows it.”
“Too little, too late.”
I didn’t move, I barely breathed. Just the feel of his hand against my face had my heart racing.
It had always been like this. He’d touch me and I’d just want to melt, to let him hold me, touch me, make me forget everything.
His next words shocked me.
“I hate the way you made me feel at that party. The way you’ve made me feel ever since you found out. You’ve no idea the torture I’ve endured the last five years. I didn’t know where you were - I only knew you were safe because your mother said so. I begged her, many times through the years to just tell me where you were, but she always denied me even as she apologized. That you’d come back when you were ready. You never planned to though, did you?”
All I could do was shake my head as I stared at him. The words came through his teeth, his restraint evident even though the gentleness of his hand hadn’t changed. His expression tightened, his mouth flattening at my response.
“I knew that. The fact she gave me your number just showed me that she’d given up. She didn’t even think I could bring you back. You were so far gone from all of us, never giving us any thought. You didn’t care how we felt, you only cared about yourself.”
I stiffened at that and slapped his hand away.
“Don’t even,” he bit out before I could speak. “You can be righteous all you want but what you did to us, even for all your reasons, was just as despicable as Grace and I not telling you about having a child together.”
Not thinking about the consequences of my actions, I laughed dryly. “Oh, so I suppose everybody in your life is being one hundred percent truthful at this point? If they all know how much lies hurt, have they told you all the things they are hiding?”
He blinked, the response obviously not one he expected. “What are you talking about? This is about you and me.”
“Is it?” My voice rose as my ire increased. “I hid one thing - one thing! - and suddenly I’m the bad guy? I admitted I hurt you and I’ve said sorry. It was cruel of me to just push you out, but at the time I was in so much pain that I wanted to die. It’s not the same thing as fucking my best friend and having a child together, and not telling me about it before you start sucking up to me!”
“Sucking up to you?” He shoved a hand through his hair, holding it for a second before letting go with a laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me? I have been devoted to you since the moment we met, Ellie! We have been friends since I was twelve and you were ten; we told each other everything. Did you care about that when you shut me out? No! No, you didn’t! You treated me like I meant nothing!”
The pain on his face spoke volumes.
“If you want to pretend I mean nothing to you, that’s fine,” he continued, his voice breaking. “But don’t you dare tell me I haven’t changed, because I have. Don’t pretend to know why I did or didn’t do something. All I wanted was for you to come back home and even if you being in my arms only lasted a few weeks, it was better than never again.”
“You would see it that way,” I whispered. “You hurt me more by doing it that way.”
“I would have hurt you either way!” He roared, throwing his hands in the air in a gesture of helplessness. “I wanted you so badly I said fuck the consequences, because it’s not like we were friends anymore. We were nothing and you made us that way!”
I flinched, wishing that for just a moment, I could go back and changed how I’d handled it all.
“You’re right,” I admitted, my throat clogging with tears I refused to shed as I stared down at my hands. “I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t want you to be sorry, dammit. I want you to fix it.”
I knew the feeling. In one particularly intense therapy session near the beginning of my new life far away from home, I’d cried about how nothing I did seemed to ease the pain.
“It takes time, Elizabeth. You can’t just will the pain away. You can only do so much. Sometimes, our brains are ready to move on faster than our hearts are. You will never escape what’s happened, you can only learn to deal with it.”
“I just want to fix it!” I cried.
But she’d simply said the same thing again.
And eventually, she’d been right. The pain was just a dull ache now.
“I can’t,” I told him quietly. “And you know it.”
“You really meant it, didn’t you?” I heard the defeat in his voice at the reference to our conversation at the party.
I looked up, placing a hand on his shoulder as his eyes bore into mine.
“When I saw you again, how much I wanted to be near you again is all I thought about. Before then, you were constantly in my dreams. I missed you, so much it hurt. And when you came back into my life, once I’d gotten over the fear, I thought maybe this was it. Maybe we could be what we were. Problem is, nothing can ever be how it used to be. We can’t turn back time, we can’t pretend it didn’t happen; we can only learn how to deal with what we have now.”
“I know we can’t forget,” he rasped. “I know that. I just want to start again.”
And with that, I cradled his face in my hand before leaning forward and softly pecking his cheek.
“I don’t. I love him, Stefan. And he loves me. He is a good man. I will not hurt him. I’ve learned from my mistakes too.”
He nodded and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against him tightly. “I’ll always love you, Ellie. Always.”
I wish I could say I said it back, one last time. Meant it as much as he did.
Or that I’d changed my mind at his words and given in.
That I’d told him we could work this out.
But I didn’t.
He let me go and walked out before I could say anything at all.
I had no way of knowing that those words would be the last I’d ever spoken to me.
Or that those moments were the very last time I’d see him alive.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
It was eight p.m. on a Saturday night several weeks later.
Simon and I were laying in bed watching T.V. when my phone rang.
He reached over to the side table and looked at the screen.
“It’s Grace.”
I waved him to put it back. “She’s probably just calling
to ask why I didn’t come to the get together. I’ll call her later.”
I never told Grace what had happened, figuring Stefan had probably done the honors anyway. When I made it clear that things were serious with Simon, she agreed not to do anything like that again.
We weren’t friends again, but we weren’t enemies. I planned to move forward with my life, determined to put it all behind me at the very least. Plus, with Lyndsey wanting to see me more, being civil was imperative.
Simon, when I told him how Grace had set us up, only seemed amused. I didn’t need to make it clear that nothing had happened, but I did anyway. Because I wanted to be open and honest with him. I truly had learned from my mistakes, just as I’d told Stefan I had. I’d be honest even if it hurt so badly I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to destroy what I had a second time.
“You may want to answer it,” he said as it rang again, putting it in my hand.
I sighed, annoyed. “Hello?”
A hysterical Grace answered me, but I couldn’t understand anything she said.
An unexplainable dread filled me the longer she babbled. “Slow down, Grace. I can’t understand you.”
Her crying in my ear escalated to the point I held the phone slightly away. Simon looked at with me a quizzical expression.
“Who? What? Damn it, give the phone to someone who is coherent!”
I heard the phone shuffling hands, Grace wailing for ‘someone else’ and finally, Evan came onto the line. “Elizabeth?”
Something in the soft desperation of his voice alarmed me. “What is going on Evan? Who is hurt?”
“Stefan.”
My heart dropped into my stomach as I sat up. “What happened? Is he okay?”
“I don’t know. One minute he was sitting on the edge of a table, the next he was on the ground. The ambulance just left—” He cut off and I heard Grace shouting in the background. “I—I gotta go.”
He hung up before I could ask anything else.
“Elle, let’s go.”
I looked up at Simon, who at some point in the last minute had gotten up and put clothes on. He took the phone out of my hands and handed me something to wear.
Within minutes we were out the door and headed to the hospital.
I couldn’t speak. At that point, I felt as if I were barely breathing.
Simon clutched my hand the whole way.
Even though I knew that emergencies were something he dealt with at work, his calm in this moment unnerved me even as it countered my panic. Then again, he hadn’t been the one who’d had a bond with Stefan, a relationship. He wouldn’t feel the pain I felt in that moment, which probably would end up being a good thing. I cried with worry the whole way there, hoping it wasn’t serious. We may not be together, but I still cared.
He just collapsed? He’s a thirty year old man, they don’t just collapse.
I rushed inside after we arrived, full on running to the door as I left Simon behind.
The whole family sat in the waiting room. Lyndsey sat in Grace’s lap, Evan hugging them both as they cried. Yvette sat sobbing, Adrian trying to comfort her as Jerome sat next to him, his face pale and withdrawn. None of them looked at me for more than a moment, other than Penny who jumped up to envelope me in a tight hug. Simon’s hand on my back as he came up behind me announced his arrival, Penny pulling back from me to look him in the face.
“He just hit the ground, Simon. They said his heart stopped. He’s thirty, he’s too young for his heart to just stop, isn’t he?”
Simon grimaced.
“They are trying to resuscitate him now,” she continued on through her tears, not waiting for an answer as she turned around. “Come sit down, all we can do is wait.”
We didn’t even get the chance.
The doctor - later, Simon would tell me that his name was Maximilian Hawkins - came through the doors, his face severe.
For me, he didn’t even have to speak. I knew before he even opened his mouth.
“I’m sorry,” he said with a shake of his head. “We did everything…”
Simon’s arms came around me to hold me up as I felt my knees give out. Penny, still holding onto my arm, slid to the floor with a cry. I don’t know what the others did, my vision so blurred with tears I couldn’t even see straight.
“How could you?” Yvette howled from across the room. I looked over, wandering who she was talking to. “You two are disgusting!”
She was in Evan’s face now. Simon let go of me with a whisper to hang in there, heading over to stop her from doing something stupid.
He grabbed her arm as she ranted.
“He saw you! He saw you kissing and how could you? That’s his daughter’s mother! You’re sick!”
Evan didn’t say anything, his head bowed.
“I love him and you killed him! You fucking killed him!”
At that his head came up, his eyes wide.
I watched as Simon whispered down to her, pulling her away even though she was reluctant.
“I don’t care!” She shouted at whatever he said, her eyes shooting daggers at me as he went to take her outside. “I hate all of you! I love him and now I’ll never get to tell him. I hate you!”
I stood there, feeling as helpless as the doctor who’d had to deliver the news.
Nothing would ever be the same for any of us.
Not for his daughter.
Not for his siblings.
Not for Grace.
Not for me.
And not for Yvette, whose love for Stefan would forever go unrequited. Even though I’d guessed the truth, my heart broke for her in that moment, because suddenly, everything she wanted had been torn from her.
So I did the only thing I could do in that moment.
I crouched down and wrapped Penny in my arms.
~*~
I felt punished.
Still lying in bed as Simon got up to get coffee, I didn’t want to move.
The days had passed in a blur, I didn’t even know what day it was or how many had passed.
I only knew today was the day of the funeral because Simon had told me.
Stefan had died of Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy.
Or, as Simon had explained to me and his family in basic terms, an enlarged heart.
Due to the fact it was such a shock, it was safe to assume that Stefan had felt fine. With no symptoms, he’d have never seen it coming, which means nobody else would have either. But it didn’t take away the pain.
Nobody had killed him.
I kept repeating that over and over to myself but the truth is, I felt like I had.
Grace and Evan probably felt as if they had.
And Yvette, in her grief, blamed all of us.
As I heard Simon come back into the room, I didn’t bother to look at him. I didn’t really want to go. I hadn’t even gone to the wake the night before because I hadn’t been sure I could handle it. When Simon pulled the blankets off of me though, I knew it was time to face the world.
“Let’s get you a shower Elle. I hate to tell you this, but you stink.”
His voice was soft and sweet, yet the tears still welled in my eyes. His, filled with worry, didn’t look away from me as he held out his hand.
“Come on, I’ll do all the work. All you’ve gotta do is just stand there.”
I took his hand and before long, we were in the shower. Wetting my hair, he had me turn around so he could wash it. His fingers massaged my scalp, my head tilting back as I moaned at the sheer loveliness of it. I hadn’t let him touch me since that night at the hospital, afraid if anybody put their hands on me I would break down and cry.
His hands slid down to shampoo the rest of my hair, before gently turning me around and rinsing it out. I kept my eyes closed even after he was finished. Neither of us spoke as he started washing me with a loofah, foamy with the body wash I’d brought over to use here. Shoulders and down my arms, only to come back up under them; then my breasts, the nipples perking as the materi
al glided over them and I heard his sharp inhale. Then down the rest of my body and to my legs.
“Turn around.”
I did, the front cleaned off by the water as he continued washing my backside. His strokes slowed down, lingered. I wanted him to touch me, especially as he slid it between my legs and thought he would until he spoke.
“Okay, all done. My turn.”
I opened my eyes finally, pivoting to face him and rinsed off the rest of the soap, only to find him staring at me with an undeniable hunger on his face. His statement took on a whole different meaning and I smiled for the first time in what felt like forever.
“Are you talking about washing yourself or putting your hands all over me?” My voice came out low, raw with emotions I refused to let out.
He dropped the loofah and grabbed me around the waist, pulling me against him roughly.
“It’s so good to hear you talk,” he said into my ear. “I’ve been worried.”
At first, I’d been worried too. The despondency I felt at hearing Stefan was dead had been near to what I’d felt all those years ago. The sorrow was different, but the ache…ah, the ache didn’t care. My heart wept, even though I didn’t dare cry. The tears would come, but not yet. First, I had to get through the day. And what I wanted right now, was something to get me through it.
“I need you, Simon.” The words, said on a breath, had him pulling his head back, his eyes searching mine.
“Right now?”
“Please,” I begged. “I don’t want sweet. Make me forget, even for just a moment.”
“Grab onto the bar,” he ordered with a nod, turning to put my back against the side wall. “And hold on.”
I didn’t know why I needed the bar until he got down in front of me and glanced back to make sure I did as told. I grabbed it, my eyes widening as he placed my legs over his shoulders, holding my ass in his hands. No further words, just moans as his mouth was on me, teasing me, loving me. My grip on the bar so tight I thought I’d rip it straight off the wall, he shifted to support me with one hand, while the other moved around to join in with his lips.
One finger, then two, not sliding in and out but stroking me on the inside. A sob escaped but whether it was from what he was doing or the emotions trying to escape me in a moment when I wasn’t actively trying to stomp them out, I never knew. Pleasure ripped through me and I shook with the power of it. Not even sure when Simon had slid back up as he lifted my legs up and around his frame, bracing my body with one hand as he guided himself to me with the other.