Love's Forbidden Flower (17 page)

Donovan hands me a bottle of juice as I resume my seat next to him. His pupils are large and fixated on Christopher. “He’s extremely talented—very intense and precise. It’s interesting, because every now and then he laughs and shows how comfortable he is, which is obvious in how he plays. But he's generally very focused, which he needs to be, because some of what he's playing is incredibly complex. But it’s all so clean.”

Donovan seems temporarily at peace with himself, but it's sadly short lived as Christopher slips into a song that is unfamiliar to me. While the tone is fairly bright, the sentiment is terribly depressing. He sings of someone unable spend time with the people he loves because complications in his life claw him away, and he vows that someday he will make it up to them. Not only are the lyrics haunting, but also the way he sings them is gut wrenching, like every word rips from his soul and sends daggers into my heart.

I'm not the only one affected, as Donovan's expression has profoundly changed. He's glancing down at me with watery eyes that tell of love, apology, and remorse. As the song ends, he reticently leaves the room and retreats upstairs. After a respectable moment long enough to conceal my pursuit, I follow his tracks with a deep sense of foreboding.

Knocking softly on his bedroom door, stillness is my only reply. I softly call his name while entering the chamber where just enough light creeps in from the street to illuminate Donovan sitting on his bed, his face blanketed in tears of sorrow, resembling that of a terrified little boy. Sitting next to him I touch his hand and find it slightly quaking. What could possibly do this to a grown man? Especially one who was raised to believe that men don’t express emotions, even privately.

“Donovan, you’re not doing so well. Do you know that?”

“I know, Lily. I know.”

“There's something very serious going on. Please let me help.”

Languidly he closes his eyes as if about to go into a trance. “The best way for you to help is to let me be alone for a while.”

“No way. You’re scaring me. I’m not letting you out of my sight tonight.”

“Go downstairs, Lily.”

“No. It's fine if you don’t want to talk, or if you want to ignore me again after you leave, but I'm no longer allowing you to hide from me when you're in plain sight.”

Donovan and I reappear as Christopher hits his old school Brit pop limit. He's hesitant to talk to me and takes his time putting his guitar into its case, as if knowing troubles are at hand. “Everything all right?” he asks while looking at the floor.

I take Christopher by the hands and stick my face into his view. “Why the avoidance?”

“I’m sorry, luv. I saw what happened earlier, and I’m concerned. Ever since I got here I've felt something is very wrong that I cannot fix. It's all over your face. I'm probably just a little sentimental tonight. Everything all right with your brother?”

“No. He’s carrying a heavier load than I can imagine, and he’s not willing to talk about it. He tries to play it off, but he’s a very emotional person, and I’m incredibly worried about him. Can we please be sure to keep an eye on him tonight? I was really hoping to sneak off and show you how much I missed you, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.” The touch of my lips to his expresses my adulation more than words ever could.

“Everything’s fine with us?”

“Yes. Why would you think differently?” Snuggling into his shoulder, I surrender to his embrace.

His voice is serenely romantic as he confesses, “When I am here I know how far away I am from Manchester, but when I was there it hit me how far away Manchester is from you. At night I often couldn’t sleep, and I'd go outside and look at the stars thinking how they were the same ones that watched over you, but they actually made you feel farther away. Lilyanna, I think I'm deeper into this love thing than I should be.”

He graces me with a kiss, leaving an imprint that will tingle throughout the night. It butchers me that this moment cannot be enjoyed for all it's worth, but my emotional tug of war continues. I risk turning off my brain and allowing my emotions to speak, unaware of what Christopher will hear. “I hope you never go away again, not even for a day. Every time I look into your eyes I feel myself getting pulled in deeper. I don't know how much farther a person can go.”

“Blimey, I'm a lucky sod,” he whispers, his eyes seizing my heart until I feel overwhelmed and blushingly turn away.

While snuggling me, Christopher turns his attention across the room to Donovan, who's having his ear talked off by the girl who's been crushing on him the entire night. “Who is that bird, anyway?”

“Apparently she’s the daughter of one of my dad’s business associates. I’ve never seen her before.”

“Since he's occupied, sure I can’t run you astray as the clock strikes for a bit of the old How’s Your Father?”

“And you wonder why no one understands you!”

There’s an old adage about if you want to know how someone really feels about you, you can sense it in their kiss. If this holds true, at the stroke of midnight I learn that Christopher’s love for me may be time transcending. More and more I’m feeling the same way.

Nothing would be better than to stay right by his side and continue with our ardent display, but the universe calls me. There is unfinished business that walked into the kitchen just as the countdown began. I have to find within myself a way to heal while respecting the upheaval witnessed earlier.

Donovan has kept himself occupied by restocking buckets of ice. While he squats down in front of the fridge to restock the champagne I approach from behind, tug him up by the arm, and drag him down the back hall. We grab coats off of the hooks by the door before I muscle him outside with no resistance on his part.

As he starts to put on his coat, I smack his hands and snatch it away. “No! Freeze for a moment and listen. If you are lucky, I won’t lock you out of the house. This is a drop of payback for what happened to me exactly one year ago tonight. You bailed on me, and the only way I got you to say anything about it was by pestering you, and then all I got was a lame text. I couldn’t stand the thought of staying at that party another moment, and I didn’t dare beg for you to come get me. I also didn’t want to call Mom and Dad and have to fabricate an excuse for leaving early, so I walked home in the frost. I swear my tears froze it was so cold!”

Restraining my true inclination to introduce my palm to his face, I smack him in the arm. “There’s your New Year’s Eve kiss for last year.”

“Ouch!”

“Oh, knock it off, you big baby. It was going to be far more humiliating, but after what I witnessed earlier, I figure you need a little sympathy. Damn it, Donovan!” The unfairness of it all has me boiling. I should try to beat the crap out of the big bad jock. He’d probably let me. But he looks like Pandora the wounded house cat, and I really just want to pick him up and hold him.

I concede to tossing him back his coat. He begins to put it on before stopping and wrapping it around his arms. If he would share what has been going on for the past year, then maybe the sense of guilt eating at my gut would be understandable.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s cruel of me, but I owe it to myself to let you have it. Anyway, someday when you finally tell me everything, like you say you will, the explanation for that is at the top of the list, ok?”

He nods to the ground. “It’s fine, Lil. You don’t need to go easy on me. I deserve a lot worse.”

“Yeah, but there is a difference between giving you a piece of my mind and being downright cruel to someone who is hurting.” He tenses as I step forward, as if bracing for the real slap. But it’s time to move onward. “Happy New Year. I hope this one is better for us both.” Touching my lips to his cheek, I dare to let them linger. My love flows into the kiss as much as I can allow while respecting that a year ago he told me we were through. My heart also reminds me that there is a man I never wish to hurt just inside the door.

Maybe it is my imagination, but as I turn and walk away Donovan speaks to me from within.

I love you, too.

My mind tries to rationalize where he could be. He probably went some place to hide alone. After driving to every coffee shop and movie theatre within miles, I finally find his car in a cinema lot. Pulling out two wool blankets from my trunk I sit in my chilly Bug for almost an hour waiting for him. If I’m lucky I’ll only catch pneumonia instead of having every cell in my body freeze. Truly this man is going to be my demise.

Finally I'm able to grab him as he approaches his car, totally scaring the crap out of him as if I'm some kind of attacker. Surprisingly, he obeys my demand that he get into my car and not ask any questions. The silence is deafening as I drive us to the top of the hill overlooking the town.

Under protest he follows my lead, and we walk until we reach a small patch whose view is unobstructed by trees. I put down a blanket folded over several times to make it thick, yet just big enough for us both to fit on, before I demand him to sit.

Donovan grimaces as he obeys.

Tripling the other blanket and wrapping it around his shoulders I then tell him to spread his legs. He looks at me like I've intentionally thrown myself off of the apple cart.

My words are chosen carefully, “Don’t fight me, friend. Tonight I'm in charge.” Sitting with my back snuggling against him, I wrap the blanket around us both before continuing, “Hear me out. We are just going to sit here. We can talk about anything you want, or we can sit in silence, but you are not hiding alone tonight. And, just to be clear and remove any tension, tonight we are friends and only friends. Nothing else. All other roles, real or implied, are non-existent.”

Without a fight he pulls me close as he shivers. His warm breath creates a fog over my vision. “Why do you have these blankets? Never mind, I don’t want to know what they’ve been used for.”

Reaching back I bash his arm. “You aren’t the only one who needs to escape and think sometimes.”

“I thought your life is perfect. What are you escaping from?”

“Hello! I believe you've met my parents. Seriously, everyone needs to escape once in a while.”

“Don’t you have Christopher for that?”

The truthful answer is a little painful. “I have Christopher for a lot, and sometimes it’s for that, but I can’t talk to him about everything. Sometimes people need to sort things out for themselves. I’m sure you understand.”

His hold on me tightens, more so for me than for himself. The heat of our bodies, down coats, and wool blankets is barely enough to keep us from shivering. But the warmth from his heart gives me hope for the real Donovan. We stare at the lights of the town below for a long time before he speaks, “I needed this.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured.”

“Lily, how is it you're always so strong and sure of things?”

“I'm strong because I decided a long time ago that I had to be, else I would wind up like Mom and I'm subservient to no one. As for being sure of things… There are some things I'm not so sure of, but when my inner voice controls my lips I know it's right, so I don’t question it.”

Putting his chin on my shoulder he pulls me a little closer. His tone is sincere, but his actions claim territory. “You’re lucky to be in love with Christopher. He’s exactly what you need right now.”

“I never told you that. How do you know I’m in love with Christopher?”

He tucks my hair behind my ear and leans in as if fearing someone may hear his confession. “You and I still know each other better than anyone. I see how you look at him. I’ve seen that look before.”

How truly pathetic is this moment?

“You know, you're pretty tight-lipped, but when you do say something you really go for the gut, yet you don't admit anything, so I'm never completely sure if you're saying what I think you are. Is that what last night was about?”

“Last night’s upset was a drop in the old bucket. But I mean it; you're both very lucky. He loves you more than I think you realize.”

“I’m very much in love with Christopher, but let’s face it, there’s something going on here with us. Like it or not—admit it or not—it’s there, it’s real, and it’s strong. And it’s not just some passing physical thing. It's buried deep in my soul and rips at me constantly. So for now, I just take each day as it comes.”

“Because it's Josette’s birthday, and I want to do something nice for her.” I reply, taking a pot of warm raisins and pouring cognac over them before we have ignition.

“Cor blimey! Call out the Fire Brigade! No luv, what I don’t understand is why we’re making her a cake when she owns an entire shop full. It seems rather silly.”

“You don’t understand women much do you? Every woman wants to be treated like a queen, and everyone on the planet wants a cake on their birthday. It shows people you remember they exist and you love them. I owe Josette a lot, including meeting you over a month before all the birds in town did.” Setting down the pot that's lost its flame, I kiss Christopher on the cheek, making him shy his chin into his shoulders and blush. “Had that not happened they would’ve gotten to you first, and I wouldn’t have had a chance.”

“Not bloody well likely. Those birds scare me!”

“For that I’m very grateful.” I grace him again with my lips before moving on to sift the flour.

“Anything special I should know about Valentine’s Day in America? I fear I shall need rescuing from the Queen Mum if I hash it.”

The thought of my first real Valentine’s Day invigorates me but also freaks me out. Christopher always wants to do right by me, and lately he’s been increasingly obvious about it. I’m a little skeptical as to his intentions.

“You don’t have anything to worry about. You always take better care of me than you need to. With you, every day is Valentine’s Day.”