Now and Forever

by Maxwell, Megan

  “Jude . . .”

  “Oh please!” I protest, wanting to grab the frying pan near my hand and bash him on the head.

  “Judith,” whispers my sister, “get your hand away from that frying pan right now.”

  “Raquel, shut up once and for all!” I say. “I don’t know who’s worse, you or him.”

  Evidently offended, my sister stomps out of the kitchen and closes the door. I attempt to follow, but Eric blocks my way. I snort and try to contain my desire to kill him.

  “I told you very clearly that if you left,” I whisper, “you’d have to deal with the consequences.”

  “I know.”

  “So?”

  He stares at me . . .

  “I acted badly,” he finally says. “I’m a dickhead, like you said, and I need you to forgive me.”

  “You’re forgiven, but we’re still over.”

  “Sweetheart.”

  Without giving me a chance to respond, he takes me in his arms and kisses me. He steamrolls me. He takes my mouth adoringly and persuasively presses me against him. My heart is racing a mile a minute.

  “I’m tired of your impositions,” I say when he finally takes his mouth off mine. He kisses me again and leaves me gasping.

  “I’m tired of your little scenes and your temper tantrums and . . .”

  He comes at my mouth again.

  “Please don’t do that again,” I say breathlessly, and he finally lets me go.

  “If you’re gonna hit me with the frying pan, then do it, but I’m not letting you go. I plan to keep on kissing you until you give me another chance.”

  I suddenly realize I’m holding the frying pan. I drop it immediately.

  With as much conviction as I can muster, I say, “Eric, we’re over.”

  “No, love.”

  “Yes!” I reiterate. “I’m out of your business and out of your life. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “I love you.”

  I close my eyes. My strength is starting to falter. My body is beginning to betray me.

  “I love you,” he says again, moving close and speaking near my mouth. “And loving you like this makes me irrational sometimes. Yes, I had my doubts, but they disappeared when you talked to me the way you did in the office and made me see how ridiculous and idiotic I was being. You’re not Betta. You’re not shameless nor a liar like she is. You’re a marvelous and beautiful woman who doesn’t deserve how I treated you. I’ll never forgive myself for breaking your heart.”

  “Eric . . .”

  “Love, don’t doubt for a second that you’re the most important thing in my life and that I’m crazy about you. Don’t you love me anymore?”

  I don’t answer.

  “If you tell me that’s how it is, I promise to let you go, to walk out of here and never bother you again. But if you love me, forgive me for being so stubborn. I’m going to continue to try and convince you to come back with me because I can’t live without you anymore.”

  I feel like my heart is going to burst. He’s saying such beautiful things!

  “Eric, don’t do this to me . . . ,” I say in a thin voice.

  He leans his forehead on mine.

  “Please, my love, please . . . please . . . please, listen to me,” he pleads. “I don’t have your magic, nor your flair or panache. I’m just a boring man baring his heart before you and asking . . . pleading . . . for another chance.”

  “Eric . . .”

  “Listen,” he says, interrupting me, “I already talked to the owners of the pub where you were a server, and I fixed everything. You don’t have to work anymore. I . . .”

  “You did what?”

  “Sweetheart . . .”

  I’m furious again. “Are you out of your mind?”

  “Love, I’m so jealous, it’s killing me and . . .”

  “I’m gonna kill you,” I say. “You just screwed up the only job I had. Who do you think you are to do such a thing? Who?”

  I thought my words would anger him, but no.

  “I need and want to be with you,” my Iceman insists. I groan. “I can’t keep letting you give away your smile and your time to anyone but me. I love you, sweetheart. I love you too much to forget you, and I’ll do whatever it takes so you’ll love me and need me again as much as I do you.”

  My eyes fill with tears. We’ve really done it this time! The man I love is standing before me, saying the most magnificent things I’ve ever heard. But I can’t forget how badly he hurt me.

  “Let me go.”

  “Then it’s true? You don’t love me anymore?” he asks in a tense voice filled with emotion.

  My head feels like it’s about to explode.

  “I didn’t say that, but I have to talk to David.”

  He’s still not letting me go.

  “Why?”

  Although I’m dazed, I give him one hard look.

  “Because he’s waiting, because he’s come for me, and he deserves an explanation.”

  Eric nods and lets me go. I finally get out of the kitchen, preceded by Eric, and when David sees me, he whistles.

  “You look spectacular, Judith.”

  “Thanks,” I say, without much desire to smile.

  Without another thought, I grab David by the arm and take him out to the garden so I can speak to him in private. David remembers Eric from last night. He understands what I’m saying, and, after giving me a kiss on the cheek, he leaves. I go back in the house, and everybody’s looking at me. My father grins, and Eric extends his hand to me.

  “Are you coming with me?”

  I just stare at him.

  “Auntie, you have to forgive him,” says my niece. “Eric’s a really good guy. Look, he brought me a box of SpongeBob SquarePants chocolates.”

  That’s when I see Eric wink at my niece.

  She grins back at him, gap-toothed and complacent. Those two! I look over at my father, who’s emotional, and he nods. I look over at my sister, wearing one of her silly smiles, and she nods too. My brother-in-law winks at me. I close my eyes, and my heart surrenders. It’s what I want. It’s what I need.

  “You and I are going to talk right now,” I tell Eric.

  “Whatever you want, love.”

  “Give me a sec.”

  When I go to my room, my sister follows. She knows I’m overcome, and she hugs me.

  “Put your pride aside, you stubborn girl, and just enjoy this man who’s come for you. Don’t deny your feelings, and let yourself be loved.”

  Annoyed with myself because I seem so fickle, I sit on the bed.

  “He drives me out of my mind, Raquel.”

  “Of course! Just like Jesús does me. But we love each other, and that’s what counts, Cuchufleta.” I finally calm down and, with her help, put a few things in my backpack.

  I feel so much for Eric, I can hardly stand it. I love him, need him, and adore him. When I return to the living room with my bag, Eric grins, hugs me, and gives me goose bumps by making a declaration in front of my father and my entire family: “I’m going to court you each and every day.”

  6

  After I say goodbye to my family, I climb into Eric’s car.

  I’ve given in.

  I’ve surrendered, and I’m with him again.

  I thought we were on our way to Zahara, to Frida and Andrés’s house, so I’m surprised to see we’re heading toward the pretty little villa Eric rented last summer.

  Once we’re past the gate, I see the house.

  “What are we doing here?”

  “We need to be alone.”

  I want nothing more than that on this Christmas Eve.

  When the car stops and we get out, Eric takes my bag in one hand and my hand in the other. He holds it forcefully, possessively, as we step inside. I’m surprised at how much the place has changed. Modern furniture. Walls full of color. A huge plasma screen. A new fireplace. Everything, absolutely everything, is new.

  He puts music on. “I bought the hous
e.”

  Incredible. But, how is it possible I didn’t know?

  “You bought the house?”

  “Yes. For you.”

  “For me?”

  “Yes, love. I wanted to surprise you for Three Kings’ Day.”

  Stunned, I look around.

  “C’mon,” says Eric, putting down my bag, “we have to talk.”

  Music floods the house, and, unable to stop looking around and admiring how lovely and elegant everything is, I sit down on the comfortable couch next to the fireplace.

  “You look beautiful in that dress,” he tells me as he sits by my side.

  “Thanks. Believe it or not, I bought it for you.”

  His eyes are all over my body. My Iceman can’t help himself.

  “And yet you were going to offer the view to others.”

  I sigh. “As I told you once, I’m no saint. And when I’m single, I give what I want of myself, to whom I want and when I want.” Eric arches his brow. “No one owns me but me, and that has to be clear once and for all.”

  “Exactly: when you’re single, which is no longer the case,” he insists, not taking his eyes off me.

  I’m suddenly aware I really like the song that’s playing. God, I thought about Eric so much these last few days while listening to it! We look at each other like rivals while Ricardo Montaner sings.

  Although I’m happy to be with the man I adore, my pride and anger haven’t gone away, and Eric knows it.

  “Jude . . . I’m sorry for everything that happened. I should have believed what you said without questioning it. Sometimes I’m stubborn and . . .”

  “What made you change your mind?”

  “The fervor with which you defended your truth made me realize how wrong I was about you. I was aware of my mistake before you’d even left, love.”

  “And because of that, I was fired from my job and had to return my ring?”

  “You weren’t fired and . . .”

  “Oh, but I was. And I don’t plan to ever go back to your goddamned company in my life.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because. Oh, and let me say how happy I am to hear you finally kicked my ex-supervisor out on her butt.”

  Eric is quiet for a moment.

  “You can’t keep waiting tables. I won’t have it. I hate how other men look at you. I’m very territorial, and you . . .”

  This little bit of jealousy, deep down, stirs my excitement.

  “Look, there’s a lot of unemployment in Spain, and, as you might imagine, if I have to work, I can’t be choosy. In any case, I don’t wanna talk about that now, OK?”

  “What about the ring I gave you . . . ?”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “It’s yours, love,” Eric says softly.

  He tries to kiss me, but I pull away from him.

  “Don’t try to overwhelm me with rings, commitments, moves, everything,” I say. “Something happened that shattered my life, and, for the moment, I don’t want rings or anything—got it?”

  He nods again. His acquiescence surprises me. The song is over, and now it’s Nirvana. Perfect! Enough romance.

  “Do you really love me?” I ask.

  “Now and forever,” he whispers, touching my neck with his nose.

  My heart flutters; his smell, his proximity, his composure, begin to put a dent in my armor, and all I can think about is wanting him to undress me and take me. His closeness is irresistible, but I’m determined to say everything I need to say, so I pull back again.

  “I’m still very angry with you.”

  “I’m sorry, baby.”

  “You made me feel very bad.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  He goes back to his mission.

  He kisses me on my bare shoulder. Oh God, I like that so much!

  I take a deep breath. “You’re going to be very sorry, Mr. Zimmerman, because from this moment on, every time I get angry with you, you’re going to be punished. I’m sick and tired of your being the only one who levies punishments.”

  Surprised, he furrows his brow and stares at me.

  “And how do you plan to punish me?”

  I get up from the armchair.

  I turn slowly in front of him, confident in my sensuality.

  “For the moment, denying you what you desire most.”

  My Iceman stands up.

  He’s spectacularly tall.

  He focuses those brilliant blue eyes on me.

  “To what, exactly, are you referring?”

  “You’re not going to enjoy my body,” I say. “That’s your punishment.”

  His face falls.

  “Are you trying to drive me insane?” he says icily. I don’t respond. “You ran away from me. You made me crazy when I didn’t know where you were. You didn’t pick up the phone for days. You slammed the door in my face, and last night I had to put up with your flirting with other guys. And now you want to punish me even more?”

  “Yes!”

  He curses in German.

  Wow, that’s quite a string of expletives!

  Then he turns to me, and his voice is completely different. “I want to make love to you. I want to kiss you. I want to show you how much I love you. I want you naked in my arms. I need you. And now you’re telling me you’re going to deprive me of all that?”

  “Yes, precisely,” I say in an icier and more distant tone. “You’re not going to touch a hair on my head until I say so. You broke my heart, and if you love me, you’ll respect my punishment as I’ve always respected yours.”

  Eric curses in German again.

  “And for how long am I being punished?” he asks, staring at me so intensely.

  “Until I decide you’re not.”

  He closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes again, he nods in agreement.

  “Fine, sweetheart. If that’s what you think you need to do, then fine.”

  Delighted, I finally smile.

  I glance at my watch and see it’s two thirty in the morning. I’m not sleepy, but I need to get away from him, or the first one who’ll crack about this absurd punishment will be me.

  “Where’s my room?” I ask as I stretch.

  “Your room?”

  I try to contain my laughter when I see his face. “Eric, you don’t think we’re going to sleep together, do you?”

  “But—”

  “No, Eric,” I say, cutting him off. “I need my privacy. I don’t want to share a bed with you, and you don’t deserve it.”

  His face tense, he slowly nods. “You know the house has four bedrooms,” he mutters. “Choose the one you want. I’ll sleep in one of the others.”

  I grab my backpack without looking at him and head toward the room he and I shared last summer. Our room. It’s beautiful. Eric has had a stupendous and enormous canopy bed placed in the center. The rest of the furnishings are white, and the linen curtains are orange, matching the bedcover. I close the door, and my heart is racing.

  What am I doing?

  I want him to undress me, to kiss me, to make love to me, but here I am, denying us both what we want most.

  After dropping my bag against a wall, I check myself out in the oval mirror and smile. I do look sexy and suggestive in this dress. I smile naughtily and think about how to rub salt in his wound. I really do want to punish him. I open the bedroom door and search for Eric, finding him standing by the fireplace.

  “Can I ask you a favor?”

  “Of course.”

  I go up to him and move my long dark hair to the side.

  “Could you unzip me?”

  I turn around so he won’t see me grinning, and I hear him sigh. I can’t see his face, but I can imagine his eyes on my skin. He puts his hands on me. They’re so warm! He lowers the zipper very slowly. I can feel his breath on my neck. I know what an effort he’s making not to tear the dress off.

  “Jude . . .”

  “Yes, Eric . . .”

  �
��I want you,” he confesses with a raspy voice in my ear.

  I don’t respond. I can’t.

  I’m not wearing a bra, and the zipper comes to an end at the top of my butt. I know he’s staring at my black thong. My skin. My ass.

  I want him too, but I’m determined to complete my mission.

  “And what is it you want to do with me?” I ask, not turning around.

  He steps closer, and I let him hold me from behind as his breath resounds in my ear.

  My God, I’m hot and terribly turned on. I don’t look at him but lean my head back on his chest.

  “Would you like to touch me, undress me, and make love to me?” I whisper, my eyes closed.

  “Yes.”

  “Take me?” I whisper in just a thread of a voice.

  “Yes.”

  I let the air out of my lungs before I pass out. I can feel his erection getting harder against me. He kisses my shoulders; I love that.

  “Would you like to share me with another man?”

  “Only if you want it as well, love.”

  My whole body’s burning up.

  “I want it. I would look you in the eye and taste your mouth while another man takes me.”

  “Yes . . .”

  “You would give him access to me. You would open me up for him and watch as he strokes in and out of me while I pant and gaze into your eyes.”

  Eric swallows hard.

  As soon as he puts his warm lips at the base of my neck and kisses me, I shy away, putting some distance between us, and look back at him.

  “No, Eric . . . you’re being punished,” I say.

  I hold my dress up flirtatiously so it won’t fall as I walk away.

  “Good night,” I say.

  I go back to my room and close the door. I’m shaking. I’ve just done to him what he did to me that one time at the swingers’ club. I got him all hot for nothing.

  I leave the dress on top of a chair. Wearing just my black thong, I sit at the foot of my bed and stare at the door. I know he’s going to come. His eyes, his voice, his most primal desires and instincts, have let me know what he needs and what he wants.

  An instant later, I hear his steps and start to breathe harder.

  I want him to come in.

  I want him to knock down the door.

  I want him to take me as he looks me in the eye.

  I listen for his movements and watch the door. He’s hesitating. I know he’s trying to figure out what to do.