Love You...Never

by Francesca Penn

  The first few sentences rip me apart. I have a supreme understanding of the topic; I’ve been mad at myself the last decade for the same reason. I feel addicted to her. I can’t shake it. I can’t make it stop. I continue to sign up for the heartache of not having my love returned or realized. If she feels a fraction of what this song is lamenting for me, something was definitely lost in translation over the years. I release a heavy breath when the song ends. I almost cannot stomach to push play for the next one, but I must.

  Just as I suspect, the song seizes my heart and continues to add pressure until the end. Rolling to the side, I swipe away a tear so I can see her. If she had said some of the lyrics from that song to me, it would have broken everything inside of me. Hurting her is the last thing I ever want to do. I’m just not sure if she hurts because I’m here, or if it’s because we’re not together. The questions I’ve been asking myself for the last two days resurfaced: What would she have told me if Jessie wasn’t there? Why did she come to see me?

  I pull her close because my need to hold her is unbearable. I have to believe she cares about me. We can’t keep hurting each other over the past. I’m anxious for morning to come because we need to fix it. We must fix us.

  She stirs a little. “Kiss me, Emiliano,” she pleads still mainly sleep.

  “You’re drunk, baby. Just relax.” I rub her hair out of her face and kiss her forehead.

  “Why do you hate me so much?” I hug her tighter. Her eyes are closed. I know she’s not fully conscious, but I answer her anyway.

  “I don’t hate you; never have.”

  Caris is quiet; I assume she’s fully asleep again. I close my eyes to force myself to sleep.

  She speaks as she is drifting off. It’s soft, but I hear her since it’s so quiet in my room. “Why won’t you love me?”

  “I do.”

  Caris

  The morning sun pricks my eyelids and forces me to open them. I don’t know what it is, but it seems to me like my other senses don’t wake up until I open my eyes first thing in the morning. I have to pee! I roll out of bed and waddle to the bathroom. Wait! When did my bathroom move? I don’t have the time to ponder the change; I just waddle in the opposite direction. It isn’t until I’m on the porcelain throne thanking God for the supreme feeling that comes from relieving my bladder, that my awareness kicks in and utilizes the rest of my senses. The bathroom smells like cologne; I don’t have a navy blue and gray color scheme; and I don’t have any reason for shaving cream, aftershave, and a rechargeable razor to be on my vanity.

  With a long sigh, I wipe, flush, wash my hands, and use the toothbrush he gave me last week all while praying to the drunk gods that I didn’t drunk dial this dude. If I had, I pray that I didn’t get all weepy and needy. The last thing I need is for Mister Cold, Cold Heart to look at me like I’m pathetic. I mean – seriously – who falls in love with the unobtainable? Caris does. I like torturing myself, apparently. I fix my hair as well as I can and get rid of the raccoon eyes. If I have to face him sober and slightly hungover, I can at least do it with a little dignity. I know my body well enough to know we didn’t have sex last night. What if I came over here begging for it? That’s horrifying.

  I let out a silent war cry and swing open the door ready for battle. Emiliano is still in the bed. His sleeping form breathes in silent, steady breaths; his arm is slung over his eyes, and his morning wood waves at me. It dares me to touch it. It maintains that I miss it. It tells me that he wouldn’t mind if I touched it.

  “Huh?”

  I whisper because I could have sworn I heard it suggest, “Come here, gurl.”

  Maybe I’m a little drunker than I think because his dick is making perfect sense right now. It’s making a bunch of valid points. I strip because this may very well be the last time I will be able to have him. I free his Willy (I giggle on the inside), and it thanks me. I stare at the beautiful appendage and mouth, “No, thank you.”

  Okay, I’ve confirmed it; I’m still drunk. I straddle him; his arm falls from his face, but he doesn’t awaken. I slowly impale myself, loving the way he feels sliding inside of me. I moan when he’s all the way to the hilt. I grind a few times before I feel his hand grip my thigh.

  “Caris,” he moans. “No, baby. You’re still drunk.”

  “I’m not that drunk,” I pant while I pull his palms to me and place them on my breasts. “I know exactly what I’m doing.” My eyes close and my head falls back.

  “Really? What are you doing, then?”

  I open my eyes, gaze into his, and respond, “Taking your dick.”

  I feel him twitch inside me. “Ugh. It messes me up when you say dirty things like that.” His palm cups my face; he grunts when I suck his thumb into my mouth.

  “Well, beat this pussy up, papi.”

  Emiliano growls like a wild animal. I find myself on my back in seconds.

  His eyes glow, and his grin is wicked. “Papi, huh?”

  That is the last thing I hear before I pass out.

  Chapter 26

  Emiliano

  “I’m ready,” Caris announces breezily.

  I nod, but she doesn’t see me; she’s too busy avoiding eye contact. Caris wants to pretend I didn’t wake up to her riding me. She wants to act like I didn’t fuck her into a sleep so deep, it knocked the rest of the alcohol out of her ass. I shake my head. It doesn’t matter; I’m taking her to breakfast, and we’re discussing this. There’s obviously too much left unsaid.

  “Lead the way.” I motion for her to go.

  I follow her out and lock my door. We settle in my SUV, and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise when her phone syncs with my car.

  “Why am I on your Bluetooth?”

  “What do you remember from last night?”

  “Jason.”

  I’m surprised my steering wheel isn’t cracking because hearing his name reminds me of the fury I felt watching them have dinner.

  “How did you end up on a date, exactly?”

  “Why do you care what I do? We have nothing to talk about. Remember?”

  This is not going the way I want. We are falling right back into our bullshit.

  “I just do, okay?” I opt to try to defuse the argument, but I don’t want to tell her I love her like this. It would look like a power play to get her to do what I want her to do.

  “Well, you shouldn’t since you are determined to be a forever bachelor, sleeping with unsuspecting women then telling them to fuck off if they get too close.”

  I scowl at her. “I’m not that guy. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Did you or did you not kick two different women out of your office on the same day?”

  “Don’t minimize it like that, Caris. You walked in on a situation you didn’t understand and jumped to conclusions. MY JOB is not the time or place to discuss anything personal in general, especially not with a CLIENT of the firm.”

  “A lot of personal things happened at MY JOB.” She chooses to miss the point.

  “Where you are THE BOSS; you don’t have anyone to report to if stuff gets out of control!”

  She scoffs and folds her arms. “Where are we going?”

  “Breakfast.”

  “I didn’t agree to breakfast.”

  “You also didn’t thank me for not leaving you alone drunk with a stranger.” I park at the restaurant and turn to her. “Look, can we just go in eat and talk like civilized adults?”

  Caris storms out of my vehicle and slams the door. I pray for patience then take an inventory of what I know. Now, I know some of this anger comes from a place of hurt if her songs are to be believed. I know she still wants me based off this morning’s activities. I believe that’s where this new set of anger originates. I think she’s mad at herself for wanting me since the last time we spoke I was kicking her out of my office. I also know I want her more than anything. All I need to do is march in there and tell her before this escalates to more hurtful words.

  I
catch up with her at the hostess stand, and we’re escorted to a booth. I slide in, and she sits on the opposite side, facing me. I order orange juice for her and grapefruit juice for me since she’s not interested in interacting with the server either.

  “What would you like to eat?”

  She just folds her arms and stares out the window. I order her exactly what she would have if she wasn’t pretending to be a toddler.

  “She would like eggs scrambled hard, no runny yolk. Pan sausage instead of the links, French toast with extra cinnamon and powdered sugar on the side, grits with extra butter, and one strip of bacon – crispy but not burnt. Also, can you make sure you bring out the warm syrup with her order, please?” I can feel her staring at my profile; she’s probably trying to figure out how I know what she likes for breakfast. “I will have the veggie omelet with turkey bacon and toast, thank you.”

  “Let’s get this show on the road. What do you want to talk about this time?”

  “Well, for starters, why are you being so rude right now?”

  “I just want to go home. How in the hell did I end up at your house?”

  “I went to your release party; you weren’t there. Remy and Carlee invited me to dinner. You showed up with Jason while we were eating. You two decided that being crazy drunk was the best option for the night. I took you home after y’all did karaoke.”

  “Thanks, but you could have dropped me off at my house.”

  “Why – so, you could wake up alone hungover and confused? Something tells me I would have been the villain in that scenario as well. I’d probably get accused of leaving you stranded without transportation or something along those lines,” I mumble dryly.

  “What do you want from me, Emiliano?”

  Everything. “I want to squash whatever is pissing you off and move on; we can’t do that until you’re straight with me.”

  “Until I’m straight with you? You’re the man-whore with selective memory and secrets.” It hurts, but I ignore her statement.

  “Your playlist displays a whole range of emotions I’ve never heard from you.”

  Her eyes grow comically large. “Is that why my phone is synced to your car? You’re spying on me?”

  “No, you gave me your phone and told me to play your music.”

  The server gives us our food.

  Caris shakes her head. “The problem with the entire night is you could tell me anything, and I would have to believe you, whether it’s true or not.”

  Her comment stings. “Are you saying you don’t trust me?” She shrugs but doesn’t respond. “What have I done for you not to trust me?”

  “The note for one…”

  “Fuck that note. What have I done as an adult that would give you a reason not to trust my word?”

  “You lied about not knowing why we’re fighting.”

  “I DON’T KNOW WHY WE’RE FIGHTING!” I emphasize my statement as much as I can without bringing too much attention to the table. I take another breath. “Tell me what was in the note you received.”

  “You know what? It doesn’t matter, let’s move on like you said.” Everything in her body language belies the statement.

  “We can’t. You’ll bring it up again later down the line. Let’s resolve it. What did it say?”

  “It doesn’t matter if we resolve it because there is nothing down the line for us. I have trouble seeing any kind of future where we’re still talking to each other enough for it to matter. I cannot do this anymore. I gave you everything you wanted this morning.”

  “If that was true, why did I invite you to breakfast?”

  “I wasn’t invited; I was kidnapped.”

  “I brought you here to tell you something important. You’re stuck on being difficult, so I’ll just say it. Caris, I…”

  “Save it. I don’t want to hear anything else. I’m tired of you. Tired of this. I’d breathe easier if you weren’t in my life. Just leave me alone, lose my number, and all that jazz. You’re a broken man, hung up on someone who doesn’t want you. She just might have a good reason. Instead of dealing with that, you treat the rest of the female population like objects. All we had was sex, and now that is over. I don’t want you anymore.”

  I’m stunned and hurt. My fork falls out of my hand. I dial back my emotions. If she didn’t see me hurt then, she’s damn well not going to see it now. We’re in the middle of an intense staredown; she’s looking at me the way she did in high school.

  “Hello, I’m taking over for your server. My name is Royal…” We both stare up at him. “Emiliano? Caris? How are you two doing? Man, I’m glad you’re here!”

  “You are?” Our stunned statements come out almost in unison.

  “Yes. Long story short, I spiraled out of control due to a broken heart and lack of attention from my parents. I had to do a stint in rehab, and now I’m working at one of their restaurants to earn their trust,” he whispers so the other patrons cannot hear. “We’re in therapy and are doing better. Part of that is to make amends with the people I’ve wronged.”

  “That’s good,” Caris encouraged.

  We catch up with him a little, telling him what we’re up to and what we do for a living. Caris asks him how his amends are going.

  “Well, it’s funny that you asked me. It’s kismet I got this table. You two were heavy on my mind. I was about to go out of my way to find you on the internet. It warms my heart to know you two are still in each other’s lives despite my attempts to keep you apart.”

  “What are you talking about?” That is my question.

  Royal looks at me. “I was jealous of you in high school, so I found several ways to try to mess with your life, but you always prevailed. Except, one time. I won.” I frown at him. “I’m sorry. I was heavy into comics and mentally made you my arch nemesis. The adult me now knows how jacked up that was. I’m truly sorry.”

  “For what exactly? When did you win?”

  Royal looks between us. “I kept you two from going to prom together.”

  “What are you talking about? He never asked me to prom.”

  I feel a combination of validation and deep hurt. If she doesn’t know I asked her to prom; then she never received my real letter. The problem is, every insult she’s flung at me before he appeared is aimed at the adult version of me. She may not have hated me in high school, but she hates me now.

  “Caris, I went through my senior box and found something you should see…”

  I jump up and throw down three twenties. I feel my emotions spiraling out of control. I want to beat his ass over something he did as a broken teenager. I’m not interested in going to jail. I can’t fight him for keeping me from a woman who hurts me every chance she gets. Maybe he did me a favor. My second attempt to put my heart on the line is crushed again. I don’t have a third in me.

  “Well, being that you just interrupted her ending things, you can burn it.”

  Chapter 27

  Caris

  Twelve years ago, I thought I was living the worst Valentine’s Day of my life. Well, this one just made that one its bitch. Added bonus? I’m aware that today is also Emiliano’s birthday. Double or nothing? I’m unable to call him. I ran out after Emiliano left me at the restaurant; I couldn’t finish my conversation with Royal without bursting into tears. I’d just told Emiliano he was an untrustworthy liar, and he was telling the truth. Yes, some of the things are still true. He’s still a man-whore who is not interested in anything serious because he’s caught up on an unknown woman, but he’s not a liar or untrustworthy. I owe him an apology about that part; however, I’m being stonewalled by everyone in his life!

  Loli hates me; I’m sure Amy does, too. Connor is loyal to his wife, and Cher doesn’t want to upset a pregnant woman. I heard a whole pile of I-told-you-so when she picked me up where Emiliano left me. He’s told me on two separate occasions that he didn’t know why we were arguing, and he was telling the truth. I accidentally started this war. Technically, Royal started the war. My h
eart goes out to the teenaged version of him. I’d thrown his real gift at him; I understand why he thinks I’m a lunatic.

  This is all wrong. Terribly wrong. I wanted to push him away before he did it to me, saying things I don’t mean because our morning together had given me too much hope for a future we cannot have. I was angry with myself for falling for him, and I was angry with him for being so damn irresistible. It was childish to over talk him, but I couldn’t take him losing interest and being as cold to me as he was with Jessie.

  “Special delivery!” Whitney sing-songs as she walks in with a bouquet of roses. My heart thumps with hope as I accept them.

  “Thank you. I don’t think I’m going to get much done today. Take the rest of the day off. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  “Thank you so much, Caris!” she squeals over her shoulder because she’s almost all the way out already.

  My hand shakes as I grab the envelope. My heart drops just like it did senior year when I see the name on the card. It’s taped to another envelope. I read the note first.

  Caris,

  I cannot express how sorry I am for my actions when I was a teenager. You two left before I could tell you the rest. Think nothing of this note once you finish reading it. I want you to have the Valentine’s Day gift you were meant to have then. Consider these a replacement. The real note is attached.

  Royal

  My eyes are already watery when I see my name written in Emiliano’s handwriting. I open the letter; it’s handwritten, as well. The fake one was typed. I put it down, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. I brace myself for what I might find. I open my eyes and try again.

  Happy Valentine’s Day, Caris,

  Today is a special day for me, and I hope my gift made it special for you, as well. Although we haven’t really spoken, I must confess that I think you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. It’s not just your outer beauty; I think you’re beautiful on the inside, too.