The poem is Robert Frost's Nothing Gold Can Stay. Alas, I don't own that either.
Chapter 22
Jack's POV
I woke up on Christmas morning to a cold, empty bed and the sound of a flushing toilet. Emily quietly walked back into the bedroom, obviously under the impression I was still asleep. She pulled my sweatshirt over her head before slipping on a pair of jeans. And then she left.
Pushing the blankets back, I walked out of the room. Emily was rummaging around in the couch cushions for something.
"Emma, something wrong?" I asked, trying not to startle her.
"I can't find my keys," she replied, never lifting her eyes from the search.
"Planning on going somewhere?" I inquired.
No answer.
"Did you…forget to buy me a gift?"
No answer.
"Did Herb call?"
"Jesus, OC, leave me alone," Emily replied, the annoyance effervescing in her voice. Tears began to fill her eyes.
She called me OC. She never called me that, except when we weren't dating. It was always Jack. Now it's OC?
I couldn't speak. I had the words, but not the power to project the words.
She finally found the keys in a coat she'd tossed on a chair the night before. After pulling the coat on, she moved to the door.
"Emma, talk to me," I pleaded, holding onto her arm.
"Just leave me alone," she whispered, wrenching her arm out of my grip and leaving.
I stood there, aghast at what just happened. Moving over to the couch, I reassembled the cushions and plopped down.
My mind was blank. What could I have done to make her mad or upset? The lights on the small Christmas tree caught my eye, and I picked up the small box that I'd place there for her.
Emily's POV
I just let the car take me wherever. There was no set destination in mind. Anywhere but home.
After half an hour of aimless wandering, I arrived at the dorms…and Robbie's door.
"Emily, what are you doing here?" a very sleepy looking Robbie asked after opening the door.
"I needed to talk to you, but I could come back later if this is a bad time," I said hurriedly, trying to hold back tears.
"No, no, come on in," he said, ushering me inside.
I sat down at the edge of his bed with the disarrayed sheets. He always was a wild sleeper. Glancing over at the bed next to his, which I expected to be empty as it was Jack's bed, I saw Christoff in a deep slumber.
"Do I wanna know?" I inquired, pointing to Christoff.
"Nope," Rob replied.
"Sorry I woke you up," I murmured when Robbie sat down next to me.
"Don't worry about it," he replied soothingly. "Did something happen with Jack?"
"Oh, where does that list begin?" I muttered. Damn the tears. Let them fall. "I don't know how people get married and have kids and stay with one person the rest of their lives."
"Ok, calm down, Em," I heard him whisper as he rubbed small circles on my back.
"Can I exchange him?" I asked. "I swear to you he's defective. How can you sleep next to someone who goes 'puh' all night long?"
"I don't think I'm the one you should be talking to about this," Robbie muttered.
"No, you're exactly who I should be talking to about this," I replied, standing up in front of him.
"Emily, does this have anything to do with the baby?" he inquired.
"How'd you know?" I asked, shocked that anyone would know.
"Well, I didn't think you were just getting fat for the fun of it," Rob replied with a small laugh.
"Yeah, I guess it is getting noticeable," I mumbled, sitting back down. "Herb still doesn't know though. I swear, I could give birth on the ice, and he would be oblivious to it."
"Yeah, sounds like Herb," Robbie replied.
"Hey, Rob, I don't know if it's the hormones or what, but I've been having these feelings lately. Feelings that I can't explain because it's been years since I've felt them. I just want to find out if they're real," I told him.
"What kind of feelings?" he asked warily.
"Like for you," I stated, brushing his lips softly with mine.
"Em, what did you do that for?" Robbie asked, pulling away. The look on his face just screamed "Jack's gonna kill me."
"I just wanted to test the feelings," I muttered.
"Did I pass?"
"Failed miserably," I replied, trying to keep the smile off my face.
"Good to know," Robbie said, hugging me. "Now, go home to your fiancé and enjoy Christmas."
"Thanks, Robbie," I replied, kissing his cheek. "Merry Christmas."
I got back to my apartment to see Jack sitting on the floor in front of the couch with a book open.
"Hey," I said awkwardly.
"This Frost guy knows what he's talking about," Jack stated. "Listen to this one:
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaves a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf…"
"So Eden sank to grief. So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay," I finished, sitting on the couch near him. "I'm sorry, Jack."
"He has a good point with that 'nothing gold can stay' stuff," Jack said, ignoring my apology. "It's true. We didn't stay gold."
"Did you bother to read Birches, Jack?" I asked. "Frost wrote that Earth is the right place for love. Does that mean nothing?"
"Emily, whenyou storm out of here on Christmas morning, telling me to leave you alone, how am I supposed to feel?" Jack asked, standing up.
"I'm sorry for that, Jack. I really am," I said. "I just needed to clear my head and figure things out. These last few months have been a whirlwind, and I was confused and hormonal. I just needed to get my head on straight."
"Is it straight?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Definitely straight," I said, looking him in the eye. They went from clouded and hurt to soft and sweet.
"Good," Jack replied, wrapping his arms around my waist and placing a gentle kiss on my lips. "Just next time, talk to me when something's bugging you. You scared the hell out of me."
"At least I made our first Christmas together memorable," I joked. "I mean, how many other girls can you say you remember spending Christmas with?"
"You're definitely the only one who can keep me on my toes, Ms. Morrison," he replied with a chuckle.
"I love you, Jack."
"I love you more, Emily," he said, kissing the tip of my nose. "Here, I got you something."
"What is it?" I asked, unwrapping the small square-shaped gift. It was a small, black velvet box. Inside was the most beautiful ring I've ever seen in my life. A platinum band with a one carat diamond in the middle of two half carat diamonds.
"Do you like it?" he asked, his eyes lit up and glowing brighter than the tree lights.
"Does Aretha command respect? Of course I do," I gushed, allowing him to slip it on my finger. "But, baby, you didn't have to do this. Can you even afford this?"
"Don't worry about that, Emma," he replied, pulling me close to his body. "All that matters is it looks good on you."
