Chapter 18
The walk out to the car was silent; Punk had taken the car keys from Emma. She was still shaken up from what had just happened to her because of Beth, so she had no problem letting him take control of the situation. Instead of heading back to the house, Punk drove over to the shitty little apartment he had been staying at since Emma had kicked him out six months ago. "What are we doing here?" she asked softly, a little confused; she had assumed he was just going to come home with her.
"We need to talk, Em. I need to know the truth. We've been through a lot in the past week, and we're making some real good progress, but I need to know the truth; were you planning on hooking up with Scott after our divorce was final?" he asked without looking at her, instead choosing to focus his gaze on the steering wheel.
As much as it pained Emma to do it, she nodded. "I'm so sorry, Punk," she whispered as her eyes filled with tears.
"Why?" he whispered. "What did I do to make you so unhappy? What did I do that make you turn to Scott? He was my best friend. You had promised me...Making love...that was something only you and I do...I..." he stuttered as he trailed off as he thought about the night he took her virginity when she was only 18 years old.
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Tonight you're mine completely You give your love so sweetly Tonight the light of love is in your eyes But will you love me tomorrow?
Punk groaned as his girlfriend turned the station on the radio. Again. She had this horrible habit of switching the station from his heavy metal station to her 'oldies' station whenever she felt like. It was a good thing she was so hot, he would thrown any other girl out the door for touching his radio. But Emma was different; there was something about her that drew him to her. Maybe it was because she was just like him—wild and didn't care what anyone else thought. Maybe it was because her mother, Evelyn, had banned Emma from seeing him. Whatever it was, he liked it.
They were sitting on his bed listening to the radio on a Saturday night, just the two of them. She had stolen his Misfits sweatshirt again and was refusing to give it back. He really didn't mind when she stole it; because when he did get it back, it would smell like her perfume, and that scent drove him insane.
She was lying on her back looking at the ceiling and singing softly to herself when Punk crawled over and hovered above her before leaning down to capture her mouth in a sweet kiss. They had been 'dating' now for a few months and hadn't gone very far in the make-out department yet; he knew she was a virgin and promised that he would take it slow with her. But, honestly, when your girlfriend looks like Emma does, how long could she possibly expect him to wait?
He broke the kiss and starting leaving a trail of soft kisses across her cheek and over to her ear.
Is this a lasting treasure Or just a moment's pleasure? Can I believe the magic of your sighs? Will you still love me tomorrow?
As soon as his teeth found her ear lobe, things started to heat up; her contented sighs were enough to drive him insane. Very slowly he made her sit up and lifted his sweatshirt off of her, leaving her sitting up with nothing but a very thin white tank top. He held back a groan and laid her back down, his mouth exploring all of the newly exposed skin...
Tonight with words unspoken You say that I'm the only one But will my heart be broken When the night meets the morning sun?
Things continued to heat up, clothes were being discarded faster than before. He started to pull her jeans down when she stopped him. He sighed, knowing that he had gone too fast and now she was going to leave. "Slow down for a second..." she whispered as she ran her fingers through his long hair. "I need to know something, Punk..." she said softly as she pulled him closer for a kiss, with her eyes still closed after the kiss broke. "Are you still going to love me tomorrow morning?" she asked as she opened her eyes and bit her bottom lip, looking into his eyes, trying to figure out his level of sincerity.
He nodded. "Yeah...there's something about you, Emmy...that I really like..." he whispered as he felt her hand guide his hand back down to her hips and started to help him pull her jeans all the way off.
I'd like to know that your love Is love I can be sure of So tell me now, and I won't ask again Will you still love me tomorrow?
After a few more minutes of intense kissing and touching, Punk slowly rolled off of her and reached over to the dresser beside his bed and opened the top drawer, never taking his eyes off of her. She looked terrified as she laid in his bed, covered up with a sheet and biting her bottom lip. He gave her a small smile as he found what he was looking for in the drawer and came back onto the bed.
He slipped the condom on, using one of her hands to help him, and kissed her deeply on the mouth, taking what he wanted from her before he pulled away and settled in between her legs. "Are you sure?" he whispered.
She nodded and closed her eyes. He bent his head down to her neck and kissed gently while he pushed himself in; he stopped when she cried out and buried her head in his shoulder. "Emmy...Emmy Sue..." he whispered softly as he started moving...
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Emma shrugged her shoulders. "You need to answer me, Emma. If you want any chance of saving this marriage, I need to know what I did that was so wrong-"
"It wasn't you, Punk! For God's sake, it wasn't you. It was all me. I got caught up in the 'woe is me' bullshit after you hit it big and I was lonely. I spent all day raising your kids and changing diapers. This isn't how my life was supposed to turn out!"
Punk was shocked at her sudden outburst; but he let her continue, they were finally getting somewhere. "Scott just happened to be there at the right time; to be honest, it wouldn't have mattered who showed up that night. I was drinking and lonely and depressed and I missed you. He said all the right words and did all the things that I was missing out on from you; I missed you so fucking much, Punk. I hated being home alone while you were out on the road. I hated the thought of all of those fangirls screaming your name at the arenas. I hated myself for even thinking that you would find someone prettier than me and jump into bed with them-"
"I would never do that, Emmy," he interjected.
"I know, and that's why I feel like shit about this. You would never do that to me, so what the hell gave me the right to do it to you?"
"Do you think there's a chance of saving our marriage, Em?" Punk asked softly after a few moments of silence. "There are other people we have to think about if we get back together and it doesn't work out; our kids, Emma. I don't want to put them through this again. They don't deserve this. Jack, Josh and Jenna...Emmy, they don't need to live their lives like this because of our bullshit."
"I know, God, Punk, I know..." Emma said as she started weeping softly. Without thinking about it, Punk moved closer to his wife in the front seat and wrapped his arms around her, letting her cry.
"What can I do to make you happy?" he murmured into her hair. "I want my old Emmy Sue back; I don't like this bitchy, cheating, lying Emma. I want my Emmy..."
Hearing Punk call her Emmy Sue made her start to cry harder. "Don't leave me, Punk. I need you just as much as the kids do; I made a huge ass mistake and I'm so sorry. I swear, it will never happen again," she sobbed softly into his chest.
Punk could never stand to see her cry.
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After a quick trip upstairs to his apartment, Punk came back down with an overnight bag. Without saying a word, he threw his bag into the backseat and drove Emma back to the house. He wasn't going to leave her; not when she was like this—an emotional wreck.
It was late afternoon by the time they got back to the house. Today was Thursday; Evelyn would be dropping the children off tomorrow after school. Punk was leaving on Sunday night for two weeks; a decision had to be made.
Emma was busying herself in the kitchen making Punk dinner, when he crept into the kitchen and leaned against the door frame. He watched her from behind while she cooked. He took in her long legs in just a pair of skimpy shorts and one of his old t-shirts. Her brown hair was pulled back; she still took his breath away. Very slowly he walked into the kitchen and placed his hands on her hips. "Emmy..." he whispered. She put down what she was doing and turned to face him. "I know it's been a long week and you're tired of talking about this; but I gotta know...do you still love me and do you want to make this work?" he asked as his hazel eyes searched hers, looking for a small sign that she still loved him and didn't want to leave him. She nodded. "I need to hear you say, Emmy," he leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I love you, Emma, I love you so fucking much it hurts..."
"I love you, Punk," she mumbled into his chest, holding on to him for dear life. "I'm so sorry...about everything... Don't give up on me..."
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They spent Thursday night on the couch together, wrapped up in a blanket, watching movies. She dozed off around ten o'clock that night. A small smile appeared on Punk's face as he watched his wife sleep. It was hard to believe that it was just last week that they were at each others throats about something; it was hard to believe that it was only six days ago that he was reduced to bullying her into letting him see the kids for the weekend. So much had happened—they fought, he kissed her without her slapping him, they made love, they had actually spent Saturday afternoon and night together as civilized adults for the sake of their kids. He learned her awful secret late Saturday night and found out that his best friend had betrayed him. They spent four days on pins and needles waiting to find out if he was the father of Jenna; thankfully she was. Today he had confronted his best friend about sleeping with his wife, and had basically cut the guy that he trained with in the indies, and considered his best friend, his children adored him and called him Uncle Scott, out of his life.
And look where they are now: snuggled up on the couch together. She had made him dinner tonight and had let the real Emma come back. He was going to eventually wake her up and they would go upstairs and sleep in their bed. Together. And tomorrow morning he would call the lawyer's office and cancel the divorce papers. Evelyn would drop the kids off tomorrow after Jack got done with school. Their little family would be together again. Emma had begged him not give up on her; and he fully intended to keep that promise to her. They were meant to be; they didn't need luck, they had fate.
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Around midnight, Punk woke Emma up and they went upstairs. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched her undress. He bit his bottom lip as his lust for her was starting to consume him. She slipped on a soft pink nightgown that barely went down to her knees. He held out his arms and beckoned for her to come closer to him. She stood in front of him and he wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his face on her midsection. "Emmy..." he mumbled as she played with his hair. He looked up and saw her blue eyes filling with tears. "Are we all right now?" he whispered. She nodded. "If I stay tonight, are you still going to love me tomorrow?"
He reached up and wiped the tears that were streaming down her face away with his thumb. She nodded. "Forever..." she said softly as she leaned down to kiss him.
"And a day..." he whispered back.