"Ava did it? Says who?" Jacob huffed. Was he kidding
"Me. There is literally no other explanation."
"She wouldn't do that. She knows I'm happy with you now."
I scoff at his ignorance, "Yes she would. She's no saint you know."
"You don't even know anything about her-" he placates.
"Oh my God. Can't you see that what she's done has already created a drift between us. One moment I'm important, next minute I'm background at best, can't say which one I prefer. What's making my head spin are the transitions. I know everything with you is 'need-to-know' for some, unknown reason, but there are days it feels like I will explode." I swallowed my anger when it was a fire-seed and forgot to drink something cool, and so it grew in my belly until it came out as hot as any dragon has ever flamed... on the person I loved most. I can't forget his eyes, how that fire burnt him to ash. He loved my sparks of passion, the way I sizzled even in the rain, but that inferno was more than his heart could manage. I know what I said hit him hard, and it was a low blow. Full-disclosure between us was something that we both struggled with, and it was my most lethal ammunition on him, which also made it lethal to me. When he hurt, I hurt too.
The sound of the intercom informing us to place our seat belts back on broke the silence between us. I stood up from where I was comfortably lying against Jacob and made my way over to a sleeping Becky. I sat down next to her, wth my back to Jacob and leant my head on her shoulder.
On the car ride home Spencer is first to yawn, and around the car, mouths gape one after the other. Everyone has that slightly pink-eyed look and shoulders slouched. All except for Jacob that is, who looked crisp and clean as ever. Quite frankly it was extremely unfair.
For convenience sake we all had decided to go back to Jacob's penthouse that night and crash there. On the elevator ride up -despite my fury with Jacob- I leaned against him and he supported my weight with one arm around my waist. My legs are begging me to rest, to find somewhere warm and cozy, to find the seclusion of night and stay right there. My brain feels as if it's on on a treadmill and wants so much to just press stop. My body craves the feel of his body, to cuddle, to feel safe, to feel the warmth of his love. But my heart tells me to retreat, in the name of self-preservation, cut myself loose before I become all too consumed by us. But that's just ignorance talking. As it would be the high of hubris to be ignorant of the depth of my feelings for Jacob. Everything about me, from the muscular aches to the emotional pull toward lethargy, this fatigue, overwhelms - yet this is a world that has no empathy for such matters. In the past few months I haven't seem to ever get a break. So much so that I have been driven into hospital, and emotional breakdowns. There was a saying that getting torn down meant that you could build yourself back up. But what if the demolition never stops, and this is my body's sign of finally condeeing to pressure. My body, my brain, my tired tired soul, can testify that I've worked hard for so very very long. The truth is, in this state, in terms of my biological capacity and energy stores, I can't afford to care about all the things I have been caring so very deeply about. It isn't kind to run a horse into the ground and it isn't kind to do it to a human either. However, I can giving him up I can afford even less.
When the doors opened to reveal the ginormous floor plan, instead of heading right, and off towards Jacob's room, I idled for the stairs, following Spencer and Becky, who too would sleep in guest rooms tonight. Falling asleep was as easy as letting the dreams begin.
I woke up from the intoxicating scent of Jacobs shampoo and general scent. I could also tell that he had just come from a shower. "What time is it?" I croaked.
He lay still, next to me, shirtless and staring at the ceiling, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."
"I don't care that you woke me up, are you okay though?"
"I had another nightmare, and no I don't want to talk about it. Just, being with you, here, it makes them stop."
I don't know how to reply, or even how to react. So I turn my back to him and drift of back to sleep. However, when I woke up the next morning he was gone. And it was as if it was all just a dream.
I padded out to the kitchen where Becky was making an unsuccessful batch of Pancakes. "Where's Spencer and Jacob?" My voice sounded slightly croaky from sleep.
"Spencer had a class this morning and Jacob had to go into the office to do damage control."
I waited a moment for that to sink in, then asked, "How bad is it."
She paused what she was doing and starred a hole into the mixing bowl, "I mean, admittedly it's a lot worse for Ava, but then it always is for the woman. But Jake's being hounded by press, and under a lot of pressure from clients."
"Ohh," was all I managed to say.
"Also..." She swallowed hard as if hesitant to say what she would say next, "He's placed security on the entire family...and you."
"What!"
"He said that might be your reaction," she replied bitterly.
"He knows how much my privacy means to me-"
"Em, your privacy is practically non-existent at this point. Your also being dragged by the media. They're questioning why your staying with jacob even after he cheated on you. They're going as far as calling you a gold digger to making pregnancy theories. He's doing it because he loves you, and right now people are psychos."
I let that sink in and took a seat at the island. "How come you're not more upset about this though."
She looked up at me grinning like a mad-man, "Well, when you were playing sleeping beauty this morning, the security guys came up to meet Jake before he left. The one he hired for you, was fi-ine, and he swapped mine for yours. Let's just say I plan to stay very close to my security dude."
"If you give me your guy for one day just to piss off your brother, I will do whatever you want. Please!"
"Whatever I want?"
"Yeah?" I say sceptically.
"Deal."
For the most part, Becky was right, the security personnel, who's name was Rafael, kept his distance and was almost unrecognisable. Well, almost. His navy blue shirt clung to his muscles tightly, and the baseball cap and classes, only drew attention to his sharp jawline. But that's not the only thing that Becky was right about. Apparently the media was still horrendous, and blood-sucking demons who wouldn't leave well-enough alone.
Later this evening I'm going to sit for the all-rounder scholarship, which is probably a long-shot and without a doubt my last option. I was kidding myself to think I could track down some long-lost father figure. To top of my already stressful day the media has a new conspiracy theory that I have been obsessed with Jacob for a long time, and as soon as I tricked him into dating me, I would release the tape that I filmed. Although I laugh at the audacity, I'm internally rocking back and forth, willing the aching to go away.
Rafael was annoyingly silent, and in all ways professional, then again, I expected no less from someone Jacob hired who would be close to Becky and I. He and I still weren't talking, and frankly, our similar stubborn personalities, gave the indication that the silence was never-ending.
Between the time of the scholarship interview and now, I figured that there's no time like the present to see my Political Science advisor.
When I arrived at his office, I realised that it was callous and stupid of me not to make an appointment, and I should probably just leave, but before I can even take a single step away from the door, I swings open. "Miss Langa?" he says almost startled.
"Hi Professor. I'm sorry I should have made an appointment-"
"No that's alright, what I've got to ask will only take a moment, and I've got 10 before my next class anyway, so come in."
"Alright," I say stepping around him into the small space. He gestured for the chair across from his desk and I sat on the very edge. "Miss Langa. What you do in you personal time, is none of my business, but when it has the potential to become my problem, I make it my business."
"I'm sorry but I don't really follow?"
"It's come to my attention that you are currently pursuing a relationship will the client of your assignment?" I didn't answer and diverted my gaze to the floor. "I believe it may be a conflict of interest that you are working on his case, and are in a close relationship with him."
"I can assure you that my personal and professional lives are completely separate."
"Be that as it may, but the client is asked to complete an evaluation of you at the end of the year, which will account for a portion of the mark you receive. And for absolute accuracy of your performance, I believe it would be best to transfer you to a different project. That is unless you can comment on the current status of your relationship.
"Frankly professor, that's not any of your business-" I cut my sentence short when I notice the small metal object in his front shirt pocket. "Are you...Are you taping this!?" His face hardens over like a stone, and expression becomes serious.
"That will be all, you can leave now." I remain seated in absolute horror. Was he trying to get a statement and sell me out to the press?! "I said you can leave now!"
I stand up abruptly, and the heavy chair beneath me screeches on the wooden floor boards. When I exit the room Rafael is leaning casually ap gained the wall, pretending to be engrossed in a book about the fall of the Roman Empire. I looks up from the book and his eyes me my enraged ones."Oh just call him already and tell him what I sure you overheard, then you can tell him to go fuck himself because his drama is screwing with my life."
I had barely calmed down before I made it to the administration office for my interview. This time the room was much bigger, slightly larger than a suite. "Hello, you must be Emma Langa?" The older lady asks. She had a kind smile, and a face covered in aging wrinkles. She was wearing. a white loose long sleeve and a knee-length blue skirt.
"Yes," I replied, trying to mimic her smile.
From there she dove straight into her array of questions, Tell us about yourself, What is your greatest strength/weakness? Why do you deserve this scholarship? What are your career goals?Who has been a role model for you? "Tell me about a mistake you made."
The last one hit me. If I had been asked that question only a couple months ago, I would have had to make up an answer. For most of my life I had been the perfect-girl-next-door. I got good grades, I made the right choices, I had a steady job and a good friendship, even a scholarship in high school. But now. I was in page 6 nearly every other day, my relationship with my mother is on thin ice, my boyfriend and I are in an insatiable relationship that sometimes borderlines on insanity, and the security of my position at Columbia hinges on this very interview. What surprised me was the answer that I was not ready for, "Probably not having a relationship with my father. He left before he knew my mother was pregnant and I wish he would have watched me grow up. I mean, what kind of father leaves their girlfriend-oh yeah did I mention that he and my mom weren't even married-I mean talk about a mistake-" Before I could stop myself I had already said too much. "I'm sorry," I muttered and flew out of that room. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why do I have to mess everything up? I could have just said something generic like not protesting more, or advocating for the environment, or volunteering in an age-are facility.
I walk hastily across the law, just wishing for once I could go back to the invisible Emma I was in high-school. I clamber into the back for the waiting mercedes and Rafael takes the wheel. "Where to?" he asks in a calm neutral voice.
"Where's Becky?"
"Still at Mr Reynolds place," he replied almost instantly.
"Then take me there please." I need a drink.
Around 10:30 Jacob arrives back home and Becky and are practically drunk of our ass'. Next to him is a tall, tanned man, about the same age. The man next to him drops his jaw and says, "Damn. Holy shit your girls hot."
Jacob glares at him, "Stop. Don't look at her like that."
"I mean, in the magazines she looked pretty, but fuck, look at-"
"Don't you dare fucking finish that sentence," he warned. The two men walk towards us at the bar stools. There are two bottles of amber and clear liquid, if I remember correctly, they were whiskey and vodka. I started with the vodka, but I soon took liking to the whiskey which had more flavour. "Emma," he says sternly, "how much have you drunk?"
"Uhhh, not tonight Jacob, I'm not in the mood." He paces over to the fridge and pulls out two bottles of water, placing one of each in front of Becky and I. I climb of the tall stool and stumble forward.
"Baby don't walk away, your going to hurt yourself."
"Baby?" The man Jacob came in with erupts in laughter. "You. Mr Prince of Ice, called someone baby? Well this is just too much."
"Do you want me to kick you out?" Jacob growls.
"Who are you handsome?"
"Emma," Jacob warns. I give him a sly look.
"William-Harris."
"Your name sounds kinda funny."
"Come with me," Jacob urges.
"You can go wherever you please," I hiccup. "I'm having fun, like any other twenty year old. Such a double standard, you know. You were drinking and partying when you were in college, but I can't? Hmm? Then you swap my hot bodyguard, but don't worry, I swapped back." I watched as his jaw locked and it gave me immense satisfaction to know I riled him like that.
"How much did you drink Em?"
I shrug, "I don't really know, a few plus 10. Another!" I know at this point my sentences are barely comprehensible. I run over - well, stumble over- to the kitchen island and grab the bottle of whisky.
"Don't drink that, your clearly wasted."
I teasingly lift the bottle to my lips and, when he looks at me sternly I swing the bottle back and take a large sip, letting the liquid burn my throat on the way down.
"Your going to make yourself sick," he groans.
"Yeah, Yeah," I mock, using my hands for exaggerated emphasis.
I lookover to William Harris, "Don't you have a friend to entertain?"
"I'm pretty entertained," the man chuckles,
and at the same time Jacob says, "No I don't. Now let's get you some water and into bed."
"My bed is so far away, and soon it won't even be my bed, becuase I fucked that up to."
"What are you talking about?" he asks concerned.
"Columbia. Duh." Jacobs nostrils flare as he attempts to suppress the growing anger I can see bubbling inside him.
"Are you purposely trying to anger me?"
"Yes Jacob," I reply as best as I can sarcastically, "Because instead of simple, I want to complicate thing further and make you angry with me."
Again I reach for the bottle, but he holds my wrist protectively and says, "I think you've had enough to drink."
"Uhhh, I'm an adult, and can decide that for myself thank you."
"Do you want me to put you under the cold shower to sober you up?"
"No!" I bite.
He places a hand to my forehead and says, "Christ Emma. You're burning up." He pads over to the thermostat and adjusts the temperature of the room.
When he comes back towards me I hold up my hand and say, "Can you give me some space. I'm still pissed at you for choosing her over me."
"I didn't choose her Emma."
"But you still didn't choose me."
"I always choose you."
"Words!" I sing. I tumble forward to where William has perched himself comfortably on the couch. "Hello," I greet him.
"Hello, I would offer you a drink right about now, but I'm afraid your boyfriend might bite my head off if I did."
"Well that would be a shame becuase it's quite a pretty head." He chuckles and throws neck back in a fit of laughter.
"What are you doing Emma?" Jacob seethes.
"Trying to make you jealous, is it working?"
"I'd say so," William muses.
Seeing that everyone has congregated in the living room area, Becky stumbles over to join us with both bottles of alcohol and some glasses. "I'm not drinking," Jacob says sternly.
"I am, so drink whatever you want to," I say without looking at him.
"If I'm going to be taking care of you and your hangover tomorrow, I need to be sober."
"I really don't care. Spencer told me that drunk sex is the best and-"
He covers my mouth with his, "Stop speaking."
"Are we still mad at eachother?"
"That's something you're going to have to tell me unfortunately."
"I think so. But I don't want to be."
"Then don't be," he coos silently in my ear.
--
"Another?" Becky shouts.
"No way-ay." All my words are now slurred and incoherent, and my mind is officially just a hazy cloud.
"I think I have to pee," I announce, and everyone laughs. After my second drink, he let me have the first sip and down the rest himself. I straddle his lap wrap my arms around his neck, "Take me to bed?"
Without even address his guests, in one swift movement he has picked up both up and of the couch and is walking swiftly off to the bedroom. When we make it to the bed, I push him down so he's sitting on the edge, and turn on the music to the room. I walk seductively back over towards him and strip out of all my clothing. Supporting myself with my hands on his knees their knees, the armrests, and the bed I move my buttocks in circles, side to side, and up and down on his lap. I extend my right hand back to caress his head, and press my back against his torso, leaning back to kiss his neck. Spreading his legs with my hands I try and push for deeper penetration, and I can feel him go hard under me instantly. Getting of him, I whisper, "Get the condom."
He fumbled for the bedside table and rips out the condom with his teeth. He plants a feather-soft kiss on my lips, wanders nonchalantly over to the door, and locks it. When he turns and gazes at me, his eyes are burning. I stand paralyzed like a complete zombie, my heart pounding, my blood pumping, not actually able to move a muscle. In my mind, all I can think is - this is for him - the thought repeating like a mantra over and over again. He eases two fingers inside me and moves them in a circular motion. The feeling is exquisite. Closing my eyes, I revel in the sensation. I hear the telltale rip of foil, then he's standing behind me, between my legs, pushing them wider.
Slowly he sinks into me, filling me. I hear his groan of pure pleasure, and it stirs my soul. He grasps my hips firmly, eases out of me again, and this time slams back into me, causing me to cry out. He stills for a moment.
"Again?" he asks softly.
"Yes... I'm fine. Lose yourself... take me with you," I murmur breathlessly.
He moans low in his throat, eases out of me once more, then slams into me, and repeats this over and over slowly, deliberately - a punishing, brutal, heavenly rhythm.
Oh fucking my... My insides begin to quicken. He feels it, too, and increases the rhythm, pushing me, higher, harder, faster - and I surrender, exploding around him - a draining, soul-grabbing orgasm that leaves me spent and exhausted.
I'm vaguely aware that Jacob, too, is letting go, calling my name, his fingers digging into my hips, and then he stills and collapses on me. We sink to the floor, and he cradles me in his arms.
"Thank you, baby," he breathes, covering my upturned face in soft feather-light kisses.
I open my eyes and gaze up at him, and he wraps his arms tighter around me.
"How are you?" His eyes are wide and cautious. "I'm sorry, I should be sober when we do this. It's irresponsible of me, I have to be gentle with you. I need to be gentle with you."
"Baby, it was great. Teeth-clenchingly great," I mutter. "I actually like when your rough, Jacob, and I like it gentle, too.
"It's like that it's with you." He closes his eyes and hugs me even tighter.
"You never fail, Emma. You are beautiful, bright, challenging, fun, sexy." He kisses my hair. I smile and yawn against his chest. "I'm wearing you out," he muses. But I'm too tired to respond, and doze off into sleep.
--
I wake suddenly, every thought in high definition. I feel next to me and Jacob is missing. When I look to the clock on the bed side table, It reads 3 am. What the hell is he doing at three am. The aching in my skull ebbs and flows like a cold tide, yet the pain is always there. I understand at once why they call it a hangover, for it feels as if the blackest of clouds are over my head with no intention of clearing until late afternoon. The hangover feels like a balloon under my cranium, slowly being inflated, pressure mounting. I meander into the bathroom and splash cold water on my face just to feel something refreshing, and instantly wish I could wash my brain free of the toxins too.
I manage to exit the room, and start my search for him. Although I only make it to the living room couch before caving under the pressure of my own body and curling up into a ball. I am never drinking like this again.
The next time I wake up is because the elevator 'dings' signalling it's ascent and arrival. My eyes feel to heavy to lift and my bones ache too much to move. "Emmy?" Says a warm husky voice. Immediately I recognise it as Jacobs, but where the hell has he been?
"Where were you?" I mutter. My mouth feels dry and scratchy.
"Why aren't you in bed?" He murmurs.
"I couldn't sleep without you."
"I'm here now. Come on." He goes to lift me up but I resist.
"No Jacob. Where have you been?" I say with slightly more authority.
"Come on Emma, let's go to bed. Your clearly exhausted."
This time I do get up, but instead I sulk off to one of the guest rooms. He doesn't follow.
--
Igniting the world anew with such brilliance, the sun rose with casual elegance. In her beauty, she shone and the world shone back, joyful to reflect those warm rays. In that growing light of the morning, the silhouette which sits by my bed becomes full colour. Beckys hair falls in locks around the middle of her back. She was wearing short black shorts, a white T-shirt blouse and a black sequined jacket, which shot thousands of beams of lights around the room.
I stretch my arms froward, and the gorgeous promise ring which Jacob had given me in only a few short months of dating sparkles brilliantly on my finger. "Hey? What are you doing here?" My voice is raspy from sleep and my cheeks flushed from the heat of the duvae. I look over to the analogue clock which read...12:30!
"Emma, I'm so sorry," she says almost inaudibly.
"I'm too hungover for you to be cryptic." She bites her bottom lip, averting my eyes. Opening up her phone she cautiously hands it over to me. "These were taken last night. I mean, I really could be anyone in the photo...but it's his car and..." I fail to capture everything else she's telling me.
The title of the article read, 'Jacob Reynolds Back To Babe 1. Seen leaving Ava (X) apartment complex in early hours of the morning, leaving the miss' at home alone.' I swallow, or at least I try to. My throat feels closed, and my lungs gasping for air. Emotional pain has a biological purpose, to teach, to educate us away from unhealthy patterns and relationships. I've been pushing back against pain for so long, medicating with false hopes, with romantic notions, yet it returns in my weaker moments, devastating my mind. To keep repeating this pattern will only prolong it, keep the pain underneath when in truth it must rise. I knew when we started it would break me. I knew he had too much baggage not to latter shatter my heart. Breaking was hard, recovery seems almost impossible. "Where is he now."
"The story only broke 10 minutes ago. I stayed over night and was waiting for you to wake up."
I nod slowly, mechanically. "I can't be here when he gets back. Please Becky. You have to help me leave."
--
It only took five minutes before I was fully packed with all my clothes from my old life. On the bed I left him the ring. Becky had managed to book two flight for us to return to Malibu to sort everything out, and to get away from New York. My phone rang, and it was Jacob. I swiped the answer button slowly and shakily, "Hello."
My voice doesn't even sound like me, it almost resembles that between indifferent and slow torture. "I was in a meeting when the news came out and left work as soon as I could but by the time I contacted the front desk they told me you were gone baby I swear nothing happened and I can explain and I know it doesn't look like it now but I didn't do anything-" he speaks in one neverending sentence, flustered, exasperated, fearful even.
"Stop," I croak.
"Just tell me where you are so I can come and get you and we can talk things out." His voice took on a hysterical edge when he said, "I think you must have accidentally left your ring here by accident anyway, so let me just come and find you and give it back."
The tears start to stream down my face and I shake my head, but quickly remember that he can't actually see me. "We aren't good for eachother," this time I can't control my sobs. "What we had-"
"What? No!" He pleads. The pain in his voice is unbearable. Seized with panic. "You promised you wouldn't leave-" he chokes. I say nothing and try to collect my scattered thoughts. "You can't," he pleads again.
"Jacob...I," What am I trying to say. No. What do I need to say. If I was good enough for him, he wouldn't need to confide in her, but I'm not enough. I know there are thinks he loves about me, but there are things he needs that I could never give him.
"No! No!" he says. "You can't leave me Emma. I love you-I need you-I can't live without you."
Barely able to speak the words I say, "I love you too Jacob. But-"
"No," he breaths again. Before he makes this any harder on either of us I end the call. My stomach is in knotts, but my heart feel like the one that is ong to throw up.
"You'll be okay," Becky says soothingly as she rubs my hand.
--
Malibu wasn't much better. It seemed that the more distance I put between Jacob and I, the more it hurt. By now he had to know that I was here, I only pray that he stays away.
The car that picked us up from the airport drives slowly along the bitchiman-cross-dirt road to the trailer park. The rain has quenched the soil from sandy hues to rich, strong browns. There's a dull shine when sun-rays bounce back, as seeds of brilliance among the grass. This is that time, when the newly warmed soil breathes life, when together the sun and rain bring a new exuberance to nature. If a plant can endure and bounce back from a storm why can't I? I guess one must consider the difference between a storm and a natural disaster though huh?
I say a curt thanks to the driver, and embrace my only support tightly. "I'll call you latter," I murmur.
"Okay. You'll be okay," she sighs reasurigly.
It only hits me now fucked up my life has become since I met my beautiful bastard boyfriend. Or Ex-boyfriend now I guess. I don't have my computer or work or any money.
I knock on the thin wooden door. When my mother opens it and sees me standing there, it is not shock or confusion that paints her face, but concern and love. So much love. Discarding my suitcase at the door, I charge towards her. It has been so long since we have been like this and too long since I have been able to breathe. I sink to the floor, letting out a gut wrenching cry. My mother shushes me and pats my hair. "Sweet, sweet girl. Look at what he's done to you." We continue to huddle on the floor, her concolling my cries. "I'm so sorry I didn't pull you away from that monster quicker. I knew the moment you two started...well whatever it was...that it would end up bad for you. People like him, use people like us. Once we've fulfilled our purpose...well, we're just utterly disposable to them."
"No-o-o-o-," I shudder through my irregular breathing.
"I tried to show you the type of people you were associating with. I tried to show you privately but then somehow it got out."
What is she talking about? "What?" I stutter, adn manage to pull myself out of her hold.
She looks at me as if I should know what the hell she's talking about. "A boy approached me and said that you and him went to school together. In fact he said that you were quite close. He gave me a tape of that no good trouble maker and that fake blonde barbie. Sweetheart he was with another woman in Phoenix. This young man said that his father owned the hotel chain and the tape was strictly advised to be passed on to me. The envelope it was in said, 'To Emma's close friend Theodore'-"
"Wait." I whisper. My brain begins to power putting all the pieces together. "You sent that tape of Jacob to the press!"
"Emma Aria Langa! How could you assume such a thing! Of course not. I planned on getting the tape somehow to you, but I don't have a computer, so the boy offered to create an email for me n his laptop and send it to you."
"Theodore, Theodore," I run the name in my mouth. So familiar, yet..."Theodore Patrick Bronson. Ava's step brother. Mom that boy didn't go to my school, in fact he didn't go to any school. He was thrown in prison after alledgedly sexual assulting his step sister...Ava, who's also Jacob's Ex. Jacob was the one who went to the police about it after Ava confessed after a year of dating him. Releasing that tape would kill two birds with one stone. It would ruin Ava's reputation and Jacob's relationship with me."
"That's some crazy criminal minds shit," my mother exhales in disbelief.
"Tell me about it." Part of me was proud that I solved it. The other was melecholic that even though I know Jacob didn't cheat on me, we'll never be able to trust each other as long as he keeps his secrets.
Lies and secrets are like cancer in the soul. They eat away at what is good and leave only destruction behind.