When It's Love (24 page)
I do believe him, but I’m too angry to give him the satisfaction of knowing so I don’t say anything. I hug my arms around myself tightly and bite my lip trying to hold back another round of tears. Little jumps into my lap, and I let go of myself to pet him. “Good kitty,” I whisper. The even tempo of his purring comforts me.
“I wanted to delete P.Sparling’s email account,” Henry says. I’d been planning to do it, but when you were afraid the other night because of the car outside your building, Professor Sparling was the only person you contacted. And so I learned something important: If you were in trouble you might to turn to him. That’s why I kept the account. I couldn’t trust you to call me if you were in danger. And Sydney, my beautiful Sydney, I would die if anything happened to you.”
I sit very still, trying to absorb everything Henry has just said. Throughout his apology his eyes were entirely truthful and his words were downright heartfelt. He hadn’t meant to hurt me. And if I believe that, I should be able to forgive him. But it seems there’s streak of my mother in me, because I don’t think I can.
“Thanks for hearing me out,” Henry says as he stands up to leave.
“Before I go, I want to give you this. He places a water-stained, folded up piece of paper on my table. “I stopped by the police station on the way over and picked up your father’s note. I didn’t want you to read it alone or with strangers.”
I tentatively reach over and take the paper. I unfold it, looking up at Henry. “Did you read it already?”
“No,” Henry says. “I think you should read it out loud.”
I inhale deeply then let out a loud breath. In a shaky voice I begin to read:
Dear Sydney,
I have regrets, but you’re not one of them. I’m about to disappear again. If you ever want to find me, ask your mother where to look.
Love,
Dad
I’m crying again, both with fear because he contacted me, and with relief because he said he’s disappearing. “He’s gone,” I say to Henry, wondering if that’s really true. Would my father make all the effort to come to Addison just to drop a couple of notes and skip town?
As if he’s reading my mind, Henry says, “I hope that’s true. I hope he’s gone for good.” Henry pauses for a minute before he whispers, “I’m going, too. You’re free.”
My heart shatters at Henry’s words. I don’t want to be free of him and I don’t want him to leave. All I want right now is for him to sit here with me while I try to figure out what my father means in his note. What does my mother know about him? What is she hiding? What really happened between the two of them?
And then I want Henry to take me in his arms and kiss me with his sweet, soft lips. I want to feel desire pooling in my core as he sticks his hands down the back of my sweatpants and cups my ass. I want to feel him pressing hard against me, then I want him to tear off my sweatpants and panties, lie me down on the futon, and push his way into me, turning strife into sex, filling me up, stretching me out, making me ache with pleasure instead of humiliation. I want yesterday’s passion, the thrill of the fuck, the warmth of the intimacy, the shared journey to ecstasy and the coming down together, as one, into comfort, maybe even love.
I want to forgive Henry, but I can’t shake the image of my photos in his phone. That soul-crushing moment still flickers in and out of my mind like a light bulb on its last day. I don’t yet know if I can get over Henry’s well-intended, but insidious deceit. If I can, it will take time.
Henry turns his back to me. He walks to my door and wraps his long fingers around the knob. I sense his dismay at my silence. “Tell me to stay and I will,” Henry says without turning around.
I try to say, “Stay.” My brain is screaming it so loud I can barely hear the creak of my doorknob turning. “Henry!” I cry. He turns to look at me with tears in his bright blue eyes. “I know I did something wrong,” he says. His face is etched in sorrow, and my heart is cracking as I look at him. I concentrate on “stay,” willing my brain, voice, and tongue to work together and utter that one single word. But when I open my mouth, nothing happens. The word sticks in my throat like a swallow that never goes down.
Stay tuned for
coming May 2014
As Sydney’s final semester at Addison College begins, she registers for an independent study with Professor Sparling, unable to resist the attraction she feels towards her teacher. More confident since her affair with Henry, she takes the plunge: shamelessly flirting with Professor Sparling. And she’s delighted when he reciprocates.
Sydney loves the magnetic tension between them, but most of all she loves to imagine that perhaps they are meant to be after all. Still, she can’t deny that she continues to harbor deep feelings for Henry. Torn between Professor Sparlings’ magnetism and Henry’s loving embrace, she wishes with all her heart that she could forgive Henry’s betrayal. But nothing, she knows, can be that easy.
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Thanks to my husband for his patience and support, and for doing all the dishes every night to allow me some extra time to write. And thanks to you, dear readers. I’m deeply grateful for your support.
Emma Lauren has lived in Texas and Michigan. She met the man of her dreams when she was only 18, and 7 years later she married him. They now have three rambunctious kids who keep Emma on her toes. Emma loves reading, writing, animals, romantic stories, 80s music, chick flicks, and cupcakes. When she’s not writing she’s probably doing laundry.
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