After a couple minutes Emily realized that Spencer was crying into her shoulder.
"I'm sorry . . . I'm so sorry . . . " he sobbed near her ear.
"Why?"
"Why? Because I practically just raped you!"
Emily smiled, though he didn't see it with his face still buried against her neck. "Oh, Spencer. Haven't you heard you can't rape the willing?"
"But I never wanted it like this. I've loved you for long and I wanted you, so much, but I never wanted it like this."
Her heart soared when she heard that. She'd hoped, but she didn't know for sure until that moment. "I know," she said. "I know. But it's ok. Really it is."
"No it isn't. Everything's ruined. You died. And everyone lied about it. And now I've ruined it too."
She rolled them sideways so that she could look at him. "Spencer, listen. Don't you see? We're alive. We're here together. Nothing else matters."
"I know. And I'm trying to forgive you. I'm trying so hard. But now I don't know how you could ever forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive. I meant it when I said I wanted you too."
Spencer searched her face, trying to read her, trying to tell if she was telling him the truth. He saw the love and caring there in her eyes, but after everything he didn't know if he could trust himself to read a friend anymore. She watched him, tears forming in her own eyes as she understood just how deeply he had been hurt. She ran a hand into his hair and pulled him down to kiss her. The touch of his lips lacked the violence that she'd felt earlier, but this kiss was no less desperate.
"I know this wasn't the way you wanted this to happen. Show me how you wanted it to be."
"I can't."
"Yes you can." She sat up, realizing that except for her missing underwear she still had all her clothes on. For that matter, so did he. He hadn't even taken the time to get his pants all the way off. She smiled as she saw the picture he made with them halfway down his legs. "Come on." She stood up and held her hand out to him. After tugging his pants up, he stood and allowed her to lead him to the couch. There were still silent tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, but he looked calmer. They sat together and she put her arms around him. After a second he wrapped his arms around her too and allowed himself to sob quietly into her shoulder, crying out the pain he had felt over her loss and the relief that she was back. They held each other until the tears slowed and his breathing steadied. His catharsis left him feeling oddly empty, as if he was floating. She was his anchor and he clung to her, inhaling the scent of her hair.
Finally drew back and looked at her. He studied her face for a long time, committing every detail to his famous memory. His hands stroked her hair, her cheek, her lips, until he leaned forward and kissed her, very lightly.
Their breathing was still calm and slow as he continued meeting her lips gently, slowly, as if they had all the time in the world. They did now, after all, and what better way to spend it.
