A/n: sorry it took so long...once again. Thank you all for the reviews!! this chapter may be inappropriate for some, so read with caution. I would appreciate your input!
"Love conquers all, but if love doesn't do it, try hard work." -- Unknown.
Emily and I walked tiredly into the house.
All the lights were still out, and the rising sun beamed rays of sunshine through the windows and into the room.
I set down my keys on the table, and kicked my shoes of my painful feet. Emily was dragging her feet tiredly to the armchair in the corner.
I yawned, and then turned to Emily. She was settling down in the chair, pulling a blanket over her.
"Emily?" I asked softly. She reopened her eyes to look at me.
"Yes?" She asked.
I found myself awkwardly running a hand through my hair.
"Could you…um…well, I would just prefer for this to be kept between us...at least until tonight." I said.
She nodded sleepily.
"Of course. I won't tell anyone until you do."
I let out a breath of relief.
"Thank you, Emily. Goodnight."
She mumbled incoherently. As a habit, I started up the stairs to check on Cole. My bare feet made no sound as I shuffled up the staircase with legs of lead.
Cole's bedroom door was open, which meant he was asleep. His door was closed all hours of the day, and only opened when he was going to bed.
I leaned against the door frame for a moment. The blinds of the window were open, and the rays of sunlight bathed everything with a yellow hue. I could see lint particles floating around in the air, and the sun was so warm on my skin. I hadn't even realized I was cold until I felt the warmth.
As quietly as possible, I entered the room. I noticed he had cleaned up a lot—the only thing covering the hardwood floors were stacks of sketch books, balled up paper that had overflowed out of the trash can in the corner, and a few articles of clothing.
I had an urge to go pick up the overflowing paper and throw it away properly, but I didn't want to make him angry. This was his room, and I supposed he must not mind it like that if he hadn't moved it yet.
My legs carried me across the room. His bed was on a small platform against the south wall of the room. I traveled over there, and sat down on the edge of the platform.
He looked so peaceful in sleep. It was something he must have received from Jake—sleep wasn't necessarily peaceful for me. He looked vulnerable and young. But at the same time, he looked so old.
With the drop of my stomach, I realized he really did look older. It wasn't just something only noticed in sleep. His face was becoming more defined, and he looked much more grown up.
Grown up?
I found that hard to believe. It wasn't that long ago that he was a newborn baby…was it? It didn't feel like that long at all. As I studied his face, I tried to find some of the little boy quality he used to possess in his face. I couldn't.
I slumped against the bed frame. I felt emotionally worn out, and older than I ever had before. I guess it's easier to see age in someone else than it is to seen it in yourself. I wanted to reach up there and wake up and tell him I was sorry. I wanted to explain to him why it was so hard. I wanted to apologize for making his life just as hard. But most importantly, I wanted to tell him how much I loved him. Because I didn't think he knew. I wanted to tell him what a miracle he was to me, and how wonderfully he had transformed my life. I wanted to thank him for letting me experience the beautiful feeling motherhood is.
But I couldn't get my hand, nor voice to raise enough. And that was what ultimately made this situation all the worse. Because I didn't know how to piece back together what I had broken. I feared what I had broken was unfixable.
I knew Jake was on better terms with Cole then I was. Why that was, I wasn't sure. Maybe boys really do speak a different language then girls, and Jake knew the right thing to say and how to say it. More importantly, he said something.
I couldn't really stop myself from crying then. I knew I was becoming a human waterfall lately, but it was all I knew to do. Everything just kept adding up together. What would be next? My relationship with my son is pretty much in shambles, there may or may not be someone out to destroy the only sanity I have left, Jake is nearing the ending point, and I am sick of it all.
They say when you hit rock bottom the only place you can go from there is up. But surely getting back up would be tedious, painful work. And I'm not sure if I can climb that mountain again. My whole life has been a never ending chain of mountains and valleys. Up, down, up, down, up, down…
Where was I going to be when it ended? Mountain or valley?
"Mom?"
Cole's sleepy voice startled me. I quickly wiped at my eyes and jumped up from the platform. Cole was looking me through half open, confused eyes. His hair was everywhere, and he was blinking against the sun that was coming through the blinds. I also noticed his face looked a little pale. I hoped he wasn't coming down with something.
"I-I was just..." my eyes flickered to the alarm clock, "coming to g-get you up for school."
He sighed, and ran a hand over his face. Luckily, my timing had been good and it was seven fifteen A.M. He usually woke up at seven twenty.
I decided I needed to do something to get myself under control, so I stood up and walked over to his hamper. I picked up some of the clothes on the floor surrounding it and threw them on top, and lifted the hamper up into my tired, sore arms.
He paused.
"Mom? Are...you okay? Are you...crying?" His voice was soft, and held a hint of concern. This made my heart swell happily. At least he still cared somewhat about me. I didn't deserve it. I was a terrible person.
I turned back around, my arms full with the clothes basket.
As I looked at my son, I couldn't help but get a little more choked up. It was the guilt that was yanking at my heart.
"I'm fine, Cole. I just...I'm fine. Are you feeling okay this morning? You look a little pale."
He had the same difficulty talking as I did. Guilt made it hard for me; I wonder what made it hard for him.
"Yeah, I feel fin…well…no. Not really."
The fact that he was so hesitant to tell me he didn't feel well made me sad. I had a hunch as to why, though. I was betting that he didn't want me to know he actually needed me for anything. He probably wanted to be considered as someone who didn't need anyone.
But didn't he need me at all? I needed him.
I set the basket down on his dresser, and surprised even myself with the amount of concern I spoke with.
"What's hurting you?" I asked.
"I have a headache, and my throat hurts."
Immediately, I fell into the role of worried mother. I walked over to his bed and sat down on the edge. The worry overcame the guilt for a moment. It felt nice to be guilt-free.
I rested my hand on his forehead. I didn't think it felt that warm, but my hands were always cold these days.
"You don't feel feverish." I stated as I pulled my hand back. He shrugged, and lay back down against his pillow.
"I feel really bad. I don't know if I'll be able to make it through a whole day of school." He muttered.
I smoothed his blanket while I tried to think of how many school days he had missed already. It was only about two.
"Alright, if you're sure. Emily said she didn't feel well earlier. I bet it's just something going around."
He nodded, and I stood up.
"If you need anything I'll be downstairs, okay?"
"Yes." He replied.
I walked over to the dresser, picked the hamper back up, and exited his room.
I felt a little better walking down the stairs. Every time I was able to do something for him it lessened the oppressed guilt, and it made me happy to see him happy.
Emily was sound asleep in the chair. I longed to sleep too, but I knew I had too much to do. I set the hamper down in the laundry room. I would probably need to go back to work later today. I had just managed to get everyone settled down enough to leave for a little while, and they had been able to leave the panic room. The police completely searched the area and found no one. But even though they seemed certain it was okay, they still had twice the amount of guards stationed about. They made an officer walk me and Emily to the car. The officer in general was really dull. He didn't say one word to us the entire walk until we were by my car. And even when he said something, it wasn't something I'd expect him to say. I would have expected him to say goodbye or be safe or something, but instead he said: "the bottom level of the parking deck is the safest." And with that statement, he walked off.
I opened the bedroom door. It was a little less light in my and Jake's room because the blinds were shut. Jake appeared to still be sleeping, so I took extra caution to be quiet.
I wanted to go curl up in the bed and sleep, but I couldn't. So I decided to do the very next appealing thing—shower. I entered the bathroom.
The smell of bleach still lingered. I walked to the linen closet and pulled out two towels and a washcloth. I hung them neatly on the towel rack. I methodically undressed, humming to myself as I did. I carefully undid the latch on my necklace and placed it on the bureau. Then I gently took my hair down and brushed through it.
I shivered as the air conditioner clicked on, and blew cool air into the bathroom. The cold tiles against my bare feet and the cool air against my cool skin combined to make me freezing. I hurried over to the shower, opened the blurry glass door, and quickly shoved the faucet handle up. The roar of the water filled my ears as it thundered against the shower walls. I adjusted it the temperature and stepped into the shower.
The hot water hit me forcefully, and I gasped for a moment as my body tried to adjust to the major temperature change. I stood underneath the steaming shower head for a while, just letting the water warm me up. After I was sufficiently warmed up, I searched the various shelves on the shower for the shower gel I wanted. We had so many shelves because of Jake. He didn't just have tons of toothpaste. He also had a lot of shampoo, conditioner, and soap. So much that I sometimes wondered why I was the girl and he was the boy. Well, I mean I knew why I was the girl and he was the boy, but it just seemed to me that his bathroom product habits were rare among men.
Once I located the Fresh Pineapple Bath and Body Works shower gel I wanted, I pushed back the glass shower door and grabbed the washcloth off the towel rack. I wet the washcloth underneath the spray and squirted a generous amount on the washcloth. The fresh aroma filled the bathroom and my head. I washed myself slowly, mainly just because I didn't the energy to try and take a quick shower. The warmness of the shower was making me even sleepier, and I found myself yawning frequently.
After I finished washing myself, I dropped my washcloth, rinsed, and reached for my face wash. I squirted a small amount in my hands and scrubbed my face. My sleepiness must have hindered my washing quality, because my fingers slipped and I got some of the scrub into my eye.
I jerked my hand away from my face as they intense burning started. I squeezed my eyes together tightly, hoping to stop the pain for a minute. I tried to open the shower door so I could grab a towel to wipe my eyes off with, but I was having trouble locating the handle. When my hands came in contact with it, I yanked it back enough to stick my head and arm out. The cool air of lesser humidity wafted over me as I reached blindly for the towels. The burning was very bad at this point.
"Ow," I groaned as my hand finally touched the towel. I quickly wiped my eyes with the material. Once I felt most was out of it, I carefully opened my eyes.
When I did, I was surprised to see Jake looking at me in amusement, holding a towel in his hand. He smiled at me.
I frowned.
"You really shouldn't scare someone like that."
I let go of the towel, and he hung it back on the towel rack.
"I just saved you from possible blindness, and you're yelling at me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
I placed a hand on my chest.
"My heart is trying to bust out of my chest you scared me so much."
He smiled cheekily.
"No, that's just because I'm near you."
I rolled my eyes.
He feigned a hurt look.
"Well…I can see I'm not wanted here. So I'm going to go to work or something…"
He turned to walk away, looking entirely pathetic.
"No!" I cried after him, "Don't go!"
My exaggerated cry made him turn back around and walk back over to where I was. And then, before I had actually registered what was happening he was standing beside me in the shower. With his boxers on.
He smiled at me again, and I couldn't help but notice how sexy he looked with the water cascading down his body. Of course, I was sure he would look even better without the black boxers on.
"You dolt!" I yelled playfully over the roar of the shower, "Take those boxers off right this moment, sir!"
His wet arms wrapped around my wet body and pulled me to him. The water pounded into the back of my head and my back. It splashed into Jake's neck and face. He leaned his face down to mine.
"Why, ma'am," he mumbled against my lips, "are you asking me to become naked?"
His lips moved from mine and he kissed along my jaw bone.
"Yes sir, I am. It's only fair after all, seeing as though I am." I mumbled back. The feel of his lips on my skin mixed with the feel of the warm shower water between us made it hard to concentrate. He was distracting me from being able to form witty comebacks.
His lips paused near my right ear.
"Guess what, beautiful? Life isn't always fair." He whispered.
He continued kissing softly down my neck. Standing up straight was becoming problematic, much less talking. However, I gave myself longer to reply this time so I could have a good comeback.
I cradled his face in my hands and brought it up to my level. I leaned forward and put on the most innocent facial expression I owned.
"You're right. Life isn't fair. That's why we all have to work so hard for what we want."
I released his face from my grip. He took me back in his arms, and I wrapped mine around his waist. We stood there for a moment, before he leaned down and pushed back my wet hair.
"I want you. How hard do I have to work?" He whispered into my ear.
Chills racked down my spine. I pulled back to look at him. He looked beautiful with his wet hair framing his face.
A slow smirk spread over my face.
"First, yes I'm quite aware that you want me. And second, you only have to work as hard as you want to."
I smiled sweetly.
He laughed loudly, and it echoed around the shower over the roar of the water. He leaned down to my face and kissed me deeply. My heart rate accelerated. I kissed him back with vigor, gripping his body to mine. He pulled away.
I frowned.
"Hmm. In that case…"
His fingers gripped the waste band of those stupid black boxers. My blood pressure sky-rocketed. He pulled them down about three centimeters maximum and then turned to crash his lips against mine again, laughing all the while.
I gently pushed him away. I playfully glared at him. He just smiled back with that gorgeous smile of his.
I leaned back into his chest.
"Stop teasing me," I groaned against his wet skin, "you little hussy."
He gently pulled me back and looked at me with an amused expression.
"Did you just call me a hussy?" He asked.
"I did. Whatcha gonna do about it? Pretend to do something?" I pouted.
He smiled at me in what I was supposed to take as a dangerous way. He wished he was bad so much.
He walked toward me, and I took a step back. Unfortunately, the shower was really only made for one really obese person, so I had no area to back up to. My back came in contact with the cool shower wall, and I was behind the shower head so I was getting kind of cold without the warm spray of water.
Jake was obviously aiming to trap me against the shower wall, but I beat him to the chase. I grabbed him and pulled him close to me before pressing my lips against his. He responded without an ounce of bitterness over losing.
We kissed passionately for what seemed like a very long time, and it was possibly twenty minutes later that I realized the article of clothing I kept stepping on was not my washcloth.
Realizing I'd gotten my way in our pretend argument, I broke the kiss to gloat. However, he looked so beautiful and hot standing there that my witty comment was washed down the drain. I instead threw my arms around him and pressed myself to him. He responded by decorating my shoulders with kisses. When his lips traveled on to my chest, I finally was able to form two words a sound. That's a major accomplishment.
"Mmm," I whispered happily, "I win."
I looked up at him, and the deep arousal in his eyes made me think he was going to kiss me at the very least, but instead he started laughing again.
I was getting kind of annoyed now. I wasn't making a funny.
"You know, you're kinda ruining the mood, sir." I murmured unpleasantly. He just kissed me again. He pulled away and laughed again.
"What?"
"I keep remembering that article where they named you the most innocent woman in Hollywood, and I'm trying to figure out where they got that one from."
He kissed me again. I pulled away this time.
"I…"—He kissed me again—"am…"—another kiss—"the most…"—I was running out of oxygen at this point. I finally pulled away long enough to finish my sentence.
"I am the most innocent woman in Hollywood," I said stubbornly, "now get your sexy self back over here and let me show you how innocent I am."
I leaned in to kiss him, but he stopped me.
"Wait. I don't want you to show me how innocent you are. You'll probably have us read the Bible or something. I want to see how naughty you are."
I rolled my eyes.
"You already have. Besides, you have no room to talk about the denotation of words. We're working with the connotation here, baby. If you can't stand the heat, get out of the shower."
He pulled me back over to him. His lips softly lavished across my chest, making my heart beat irregularly. Once he had reduced my breathing pattern to near hyperventilation, he pulled away.
"You have no room to talk about denotations. You called me a hussy. A hussy is defined as a woman who is impure."
"You're definitely not a woman," I agreed.
"And you definitely are."
"Well good…now that we've established our genders, albeit a little late in the relationship I'd have to say seeing as though we've been married for over ten years, can we proceed?"
He went back to kissing me, "I always knew your gender."
"That's a relief. I'll finally be able to sleep at night." I joked.
He gently took my shoulders and turned us around so my back was against the opposite shower wall and he was in front of me. He leaned close to me.
"You'll only sleep if I'll let you…" His lips brushed against my ear. I shivered, and not just because the water was getting a little cold.
I made a vague gesture at the faucet.
"Can you make it a little hotter?"
A wicked grin covered his face as he pulled me precariously close to him.
"Hotter, eh?"
Hot blood pounded through my head as I tried to find my good sense. It was extremely hard to imagine even having ever had good sense when he was this close to me. I groaned and hit his arm lightly.
"You know what I meant."
Once the water temperature was adjusted, things picked up again. Interesting foreplay always leads to great sex. Well, everything usually led to great sex…but still.
Thoughts of anything scary had left my mind long ago, and now all I cared about was how much I loved Jake and vice versa. And when the day ended and it all came down to it, love was everything. Either your day ended with love, or without it. However, both choices form your future. Love is everything, and it always will be. Love is the strongest force of nature…it's the most powerful pull of desire and addiction…it's the main factor in fate…it's the greatest act of kindness one can give another…it's the most pungent word in all the worldly language…it's the most complex, sporadically methodical thing in the universe.
And it's just a feeling.
Hatred would never win. Because as long as there has been hatred, there has been love first. Love created hatred and bitterness. If it brought it into our world, it can take it right back out.
Cole's POV
A soft voice jerked me awake. I felt the weight on the bed shift momentarily before everything was still again.
I opened my eyes slowly. I was slightly bothered by the fact this was the second time I'd been awaken unnecessarily.
I mumbled in annoyance. I sat up. Emily was sitting at the bottom of my bed. I narrowed my eyes in what I hoped looked like annoyance. As much as I hated being woken up, I did have to say she looked beautiful sitting on my bed…
I internally yelled at myself, and tried to think other thoughts. Thoughts like…Emily is my friend. Emily is my friend. Emily is my friend.
"I'm sorry for waking you." She apologized.
I grunted, determined to not let her know how much I didn't mind her presence. I didn't need her, I didn't need anyone. I especially didn't need her though. She would just confuse my life. All women are trouble. They are beautiful, sweet smelling, soft, and loving…until they trick you. Once you fall for their little acts, you're fucked. That's all there is to it. And once they fuck you over, you're done for. Girls can heal from what men do them pretty fast, but we take the beat to our pride. Pride takes a lot longer to heal then stupid feelings. I bet they get on internet chats and talk about how to prove their dominance by hurting us.
"It's just…well…I heard something today. And I…wanted to ask you about it."
As soon as though words came out of her pretty mouth, I felt icy sweat break out on my forehead. I resisted the urge to scream out my innocence, because I knew that would only prove the opposite.
"Shoot." I muttered.
She fiddled with her small hands and bit her lip in a very appeali—…in a very womanly way. I waited as patiently as I could while she gathered her words. While she did, my thoughts wandered. Her curls looked very good tousled around like that…
"Do you know my best friend, Lila Brinkerhoff?"
Oh God. This is exactly what I mean about women. When you tell them to keep a damn secret, the first thing they do is run off and tell their little girlfriends what you told them not to! Then they gossip like idiots and ruin your already shitty life. None of them have good sense.
Of course Lila would tell Emily about what happened. Girls always run screaming to their "bff"s when they first hit someone. They gossip and compare notes with each other, and then they probably switch boyfriends or something.
Or maybe not. That would mean Emily would be with me…
I could have handled that. I should have seen it coming. Beautiful, worldly Lila was nothing but a one-way express to screwville for a guy like me who lets himself start to really like someone. Lila with her long, beautiful, soft hair and her melodic voice…
Emily's face was strained.
"Do you know Lila?" She demanded.
I meant to lie, but I couldn't. I wasn't a woman.
"Yes."
"How do you know her, Cole? How do you know her?" Her tone was hitting a tone of hysteria.
I think she knew what the answer was. She knew. She was just playing around with my mind.
"I…we…dated some." I murmured.
There was a long silence. I meant to look up at Emily's face, to see what she was feeling, but I couldn't make myself.
"You're that baby's father, aren't you?"
Her whisper was so quiet, but so loud at the same time. It echoed around my head and into my bones. My stomach fell to my toes.
"There is no baby." I spat.
She angrily moved closer to me. Her voice was low, her eyes menacing.
"Not anymore, Cole. Not anymore. Why is that? Was it your idea, huh? Your idea to kill your own child—"
Her words slapped me across my face. I clenched my fists and jaw in anger.
"It was not my child. It was just a bunch of stupid cells. Don't go around ever saying that shit ever again!" I thundered.
I expected fragile little Emily to back off in fear, but my exclamation only seemed to fuel her anger.
"Yea, Cole? A bunch of cells? Were you just a bunch of cells fourteen years ago, to be done away with? Do you think it would have mattered much if Miley decided to do away with you? Huh?!"
At the mention of my mother, my anger skyrocketed. I pushed myself out of the bed and angrily walked to my door.
"Get out." I growled.
She ignored me.
"Jesus, Cole! Just…ugh! I don't understand how you could do this! Especially considering all your mother and father have been through!"
I smashed my fist into the wall. It stung and did nothing for my anger.
"Don't bring my mother or father into this!" I screamed.
She jumped up, placing herself in front of me. We were no longer the same people.
"I'll bring them where I want to! And I'll tell you something right now, Caden Cole Ryan. You're the most selfish person I have ever met. With what you say you've been through, you sure don't seem to care very much about your own kid. Hypocrite, much? Not only did you kill your own child, but you ruined Lila's life, and I can't wait to see how Miley and Jake take this! I just can't wait!!" Her laugh was bitter, and furious. Thought she was finished, but she continued.
"And not only that, but what about our friendship? The one you've just recently decided is important to withhold. My father is dating Lila's mother, Cole. Which means when Lila tells Miss Claire she's going to tell my father what you and Lila have done! And I'll never be allowed to ever talk to you again!"
There were so many things I had wanted to scream. The mains one being that it had been a mutual decision between me and Lila—I hadn't forced her! She said it would simple and no one would have to know. She said that because California didn't have a parental consent law, we could forget it ever happened. But then she just goes and blabs to Emily. Just like a girl.
But all these objections got caught in my throat. The idea that Oliver wouldn't let Emily ever see me again bothered me much more than I would ever even consider letting on.
"I made a mistake, and I fixed it. Now I have to deal with the leftover consequences." I said.
She swung her hair angrily over her shoulder.
She walked up to me, and raised her hand. I expected her to slap me. With tears in her eyes, she lowered her hand and glared at me through heartbroken eyes.
"You didn't fix anything, Cole. You just complicated things. You're a coward, you really are. And I…" her voice broke, "I...thought you were different. I thought you were having a turnaround. I guess I was wrong."
She ducked her head and stormed past me.
Yes, she was wrong. Because this was anything but a turnaround. I walked back to my bed and sat down. And for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to feel a little bad. Guilt wasn't a customary feeling for me. I so rarely felt guilty, and even when I did it never bothered me much. But this guilt did bother me. What if Emily was right? What if that really had been a baby…a child? What if I murdered my own child? What if I made a fixable mistake an unfixable one?
And I suddenly wanted to talk to my mother, of all people. As much as I felt neglected…I…still loved her. Of course I did, she was my mother. And I felt that right then, she really could have helped me. She probably would have known what to say. She seemed to be perfect that way.
But she didn't need me at all. I just wish she knew how much I needed her.
I felt like such a stupid, weak person as my eyes felt hot with oncoming tears. I blinked them angrily away. I wasn't going to cry. I never cried.
In my anger, I slammed my door shut with all the force I had. The walls shook, and the loud sound hurt my eardrums.
Love was nothing. It will always be nothing. It is something invented by an evil force to make people suffer. It makes you feel so good that you just have to look for some more, like heroin. But once you do, you overdose and die. It was so evilly powerful that it controlled everything. It was the evil dictator Hitler of all feelings. Once you committed yourself to love, you were giving up yourself. Love was the greatest force of nature, a tornado. And when you admit love into your life, you are standing in a shed full of axes as an F-6 tornado comes toward you. You can't befriend a tornado, and humans are not supposed to take part in something so strong.
It was just a stupid feeling.
They say love conquers evil. Bull shit. Love can't conquer what is already is. Evil created love to hurt people. How can love kill what it is? It can't. Love is just a prettily dressed up Evil. It may fool idiots into indulging all their happiness into it, but I wasn't an idiot. Evil brought love into the world as easily as it can take me out.