Find Me (12 page)

“Lust is easy. Love is hard. Like is most important.”

~Carl Reiner

Liam

Layla doesn’t think that I
have noticed her going out every single night this week. And like clockwork, she comes rolling in around two in the morning with another stranger. One that never lingers past the sunrise.

What I’m trying to figure out, is she doing this to try to make me jealous? If she is, it’s working and I’m not a fan of the emotion. Not one bit.

At first
, I was accepting of her going out. I figured it had to do with Natalie not calling yet. She was drinking away her issues. Something that I can very well relate to. Something that I have partaken more times than I can count, so I hold absolutely no judgment on that.

When she had told me she didn’t need a ride home that first night, I was taken aback. In shock
, that she would be scourging the bars for a bed buddy. But that night, when she came home alone, relief had flooded me. I had no idea how I would react had she brought someone home. Well, now I know.

The second night, she brought someone home. I was too furious to open my bedroom door
, for fear of truly harming this stranger. This stranger, who had no idea what he was walking into or that I was even here. He didn’t stay long, much to my surprise.

The third, fourth, fifth
, and sixth night, though, that’s a completely different story. I wanted to kill this douchebag, right after I fucked Layla hard in front of him. I wanted to claim her before his eyes, showcasing that he had no right to her. That she was mine. Unfortunately, I have yet to do that or even speak to Layla after this morning’s events. She’s probably still pissed at me. I don’t agree with it, but it is what it is.

After three days of Layla bringing home this dick
, I decided I would take some Tylenol PM. So I could fall asleep well before they made it home. I was nothing short of handcuffing myself to my bed, to reassure myself I maintained a safe distance from causing harm. I thought the nighttime medicine would be of some kind of help, you know, I could sleep right through the shit.

Luckily, it wasn’t Layla’s moans that were the problem. She was quiet
, albeit a surprise to me, I couldn’t hear one peep from her through my walls. This dick, though, I’m sure the entire floor of apartments could hear his guttural sick like moans.

So here I am, three days of this ridiculousness. Besides already being irritated at myself for allowing Layla to dictate how I feel, and being pissed at Layla for sleeping with someone who was not me. Even though in other words
, I had flat out told her that I didn’t want her. I had to put up with this inexperienced mewling douchebag.

I woke up around three in the morning to a crash against my door. Startled, I jumped up and whipped my door open. In fell two bodies, one practically naked, Layla. She was in her bra and revealing panties. I heard my self
growling.

The male
, who she fell on top of, had his pants unbuckled and his shirt unbuttoned. I remember telling myself enough of this shit. I ripped her off of him and threw him out of my room. I locked my door and pinned her with my gaze. A gaze of fury and lust. I didn’t hesitate. I ripped my shirt and flannels off and attacked her. No holding back, taking what was mine.

“Mine.” I remember telling her in between heated kisses.

She moaned in response. I licked and kissed my way down her neck, reaching her breasts. I circled one nipple with my tongue and pinched the other in between my fingers.

“Can he make you feel like this?” I ask huskily.

“Nooo.”

I toss her on my bed on her back. I watch her for a moment, her chest heaving up and down rapidly. I kneel between her legs and feast.

Her pussy is dripping wet and smells of fragrant lavender. I slide her juices around with my fingers, slowly teasing her entrance and her clit. She thrusts her hips up, trying to guide my fingers to where she wants them.

I slowly lean my head in and stroke her
clit with my tongue, while inserting two fingers in to her tight wet pussy. She pulls on my hair, shoving my face further in between her beautifully long legs.

I abide her wishes. As I suck and nibble her clit
, I continue finger fucking her tight pussy, until she explodes. Gushing cum runs down her lips and her body convulses.

I allow her to ride out her orgasm, blissfully. When I observe that she’s come down from her ecstasy, I open my mouth and speak the words that she is currently and rightly so, pissed at.

“Get out.”

“Remember, we all stumble, every one of us. That's why it's a comfort to go hand in hand.” ~Emily Kimbrough

Layla

I could seriously hurt Liam right now. Last night was my last straw. I am beyond tired of the hot and cold now. Although, I did have a cause for him opening his door in the first place. Even though he has no clue that the guy and I weren’t actually doing anything.

The first night I went out to attempt at moving past whatever Liam and I had between us
, I met the guy from last night, Matthew.

We only met because Carl was coming on very strong and he happened to be sitting near me at the bar. He
scooted closer to me and asked if I needed help in getting rid of the unwanted attention. At first, I wasn’t sure if it would be such a good idea. In the end, it worked and Carl stayed far away from me.

We
ended up talking. He had just gotten out of a relationship and was there drowning his sorrows. He loved her, wanted to marry her, and after years of being together, she claimed that she wasn’t in love anymore.

Unlike myself, I opened up as well. I shared how I was feeling about Liam
, without actually disclosing who he was. And how it was complicated, but I was willing to take a chance on him. That night we concocted a scheme to make Liam jealous. I know it was a bit childish on my part. But he’s the first person that I’ve been with that I was willing to break my patterns and change. Only for him to throw a bucket of ice on my ever piling mountain of hope.

We planned to meet the next night and he would come home with me
. We would act as if we were having intercourse. After the first night, I was sure that Liam was unaffected. Then we tried a second night and a third after that.

Not one sound was heard from his room and it was aggravating. Every day that went by
, reassured me that my feelings were one sided. Until last night.

When he opened his bedroom door
, I knew it. He was just masking his true feelings, pretending that he didn’t hear us coming in every single morning.

He looked at me first, in complete shock and fury. Then glanced to Matthew and was enraged. I thought Liam was going to seriously harm him. Frankly
, I was surprised that he didn’t do more than throw him out.

As soon as his bedroom door was locked
, he stripped and gave me a look that said I had no choice. That I had no say of what was going to happen, that I was his.

Last night
, he claimed me with his mouth. Soon after, he told me to get out. I was beyond crushed. I ran out of his room and straight into mine. It took hours to fall asleep and even when I was sucked into dream land, I dreamt of him.

Of what could be
, if only he would allow it. This morning, I woke with breakfast made and the apartment cleaned. Liam was sucking up, for what I’m not sure.

Was he sorry for being with me? Or sorry for how he acted after? Questions that only he can answer and at the moment I have no
desire to speak to him.

So I sit here, eating my breakfast and pretend
ing to be oblivious that he’s sitting across from me. After I finish my meal in complete silence, I stand up to wash my dish and Liam stops me.

“Layla, I’m sorry. Please stop with the silent treatment.”

I look him in the eye, searching for truth. “What part are you sorry for?” I ask him.

“I don’t know
, Lals. All of it. Shit. For taking advantage of you, for telling you to leave, for opening my door.” He looks down, while gripping the back of his hair. “I’m confused. Just give me some time, okay?” he says quietly.

My world tilts with the last sentence.
Hold on Layla, maybe he’s not saying what you think he’s saying.

“Confused about what?” I ask
, needing to confirm my suspicion.

“About you. About us. If there could be an us
. I mean, if that’s what you want.” He looks away in embarrassment, his face flushing lightly.

I gasp on my intake of breath. It’s kind of cute in a manly way, him being insecure about what I’m going to say.

“I would like for there to be an us.” I state quietly, almost under my breath.

He looks straight in my eyes and smiles. “I’m not saying right now, Lals. I still have a lot of shit of my own to work on. I can’t tell you when or where, and I’m not expecting you to wait for me or anything. I have to get my mind straight
, before I could attempt some sort of relationship. But I when I do, I would like it to be you.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

We stand there staring at one another, knowing that someday we could be. Internally, I’m hoping for that someday to be soon, very soon.

My ringtone breaks our hold on each other. It could be Natalie, so I run to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Layla?”

It’s Natalie. Thank God. “Hey…”

“So, I’ve had a lot of time to think. I have come to the conclusion that I
can understand why you would keep such a secret. At first, hearing that you knew this entire time, broke my heart. That you would keep something like this from me for so long. I thought maybe you were covering up for your parents. Something I could have understood as well. But then I called your father and we talked for a while. Talking to him and learning everything, allowed me to find peace with the fact that you kept this from me.”

“I’m so sorry...” I start sobbing uncontrollably.

“Shh, Lals,” Natalie says, consoling me. “I know why you did it, and I forgive you. I miss you.”

“I miss you
, too. You have no idea.”

“Why don’t you come to the house and we’ll have some lunch
. Girls only, I promise.” Natalie suggests.

“Okay, I’ll be there around noon.”

“All right. Also, I love you.”

“Love you too.” I reply.

Later that day, I went to Natalie’s for lunch. I was nervous as hell to face her after what had taken place at my parents. Not that I blame her for one second. I understand why she was hurt by my choices. I’ve known that it was wrong to keep it from her, even though it was with nothing but good intentions.

We discussed it some more, about her talking to my dad and that she still intended for him to walk her down the aisle. She agreed that had she learned when we were teenage
rs that she would have been even more hurt and most likely wouldn’t have forgiven my parents.

But now that we’ve aged a bit more, we’ve learned that not everything is sunshine and rainbows. Sometimes there are horrendous thunderstorms that strike home, without choice.

Other times, you can’t help who you fall in love with. And even though an affair is something we personally have no tolerance for, it was her mother and my father. How can you not at some point in your life forgive your parent?

I, nor her can hold on to that anger. Anger is just an emotion that is wasteful, it only ends up holding people back from moving forward in their lives. Something Natalie and I just want to move forward from.

After discussing the past, we decided to forgive and forget. Move on. We then moved on to the fact that she still wanted me to stand with her when she married Ryan. That there wouldn’t have been any other choice, even if she was upset with me. We then made plans for her Bachelorette party. Something small, just her and I. Well that’s what she thought anyway.

I rented a
limousine to take Natalie and me out for her pre-wedding freedom party. They’re not getting married for a few more days, but with how the next days are looking for itineraries’, tonight was the best night to celebrate her last night out as a single woman.

Tomorrow was supposed to be the day Natalie and I went shopping for dresses and when I called to confirm this morning
, it turns out she had already done all of that. She already knew my dress size and wanted her dress to be a surprise for everyone, including mine.

Another reason why tonight is the best night, no plans for the next day. Tomorrow night is Ryan’s bachelor party
, then we fly out the next day.

I look out the window looking for signs as to how far away from Natalie’s we might be
. When we drive by a similar looking house as Ryan’s, I know were in the neighborhood. I send a text to Natalie to be outside, because I’m almost to her door.

When the limousine pulls up
, Natalie’s standing in the driveway, wearing an elegant black silk strapless dress that ends right above her feet and she paired it with classic black heels. Her hair is flowing down her back in tight ringlet curls and her makeup is barely there and flawless.

I step out of the limo to give her a quick hug, “You look gorgeous for your celebration
of the last night of being single.”

She laughs
, as I slide in the car, her following in beside me.

I take the open bottle of champagne I had sitting in the console holder and pour a small amount into two glass flutes. I hand Natalie one and start the first toast of the night, “To leaving behind you’re soon to be husband for one night.”

She drinks to it, as do I. The drive is fairly short to our first stop.

“Tonight is about you’re last night
, reliving your past, and moving forward to happiness and regaining a family. Something I know that you cherish deeply.” I say to Natalie trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall. “So I thought that for your last night, you could stop to say goodbye to your past. Not a permanent, forgetting everything goodbye. But a closing to one door and opening of another, moving forward from all of the hurt and pain, from everything you’ve gone through to get where you are now. To starting your new life without the shadows looming over you. We’re going to visit a few places that might be hard to move forward from. But I will be here to hold your hand when you do.”

Natalie’s tears stray down her jaw and she smiles. “Okay,” she says softly.

I decided that the easier stops would be first, the ones here in Boston. We pull up to the outside of Berklee School of Music, a place that Natalie no longer attends and I do part time. “Our first spot, saying goodbye to the place you first met Ryan and where you decided you hated him. A school you no longer attend, where your beginning to live started.”

I pour some more champagne in our flutes and we toast to the first goodbye.

Our second stop is my apartment, where she used to reside. “Goodbye to being a single college student and your first place that you held on your own.” We drink another gulp from our flutes.

The limousine pulls up to Boston International Airport, “
Where are we going?” Natalie asks.

“I’m not telling, but you have to go.”

I planned this part with Ryan. He rented a private jet, stocked with champagne, headed to Albany, New York.

Home.

We land less than an hour later and Natalie still has no idea where we’re headed, until we step out that is.

“Home?” She asks.

I don’t say anything. Instead, I lead her to yet another limousine stocked with champagne and glass flutes.

The driver already having been given instructions
, takes us to my home first. We stay seated in the car and toast yet another goodbye. Not a goodbye to my parents, but of the memories that are painful that reside there. The car then pulls into the driveway of the house seated on acres of land across the street. Natalie looks to me nervously. I clutch her hand, letting her know that no matter what I’m here by her side.

“I know you haven’t been here since that day, but
it’s something you should face. They loved you Natalie, even with all of the secrets that we didn’t know, they still loved you. We don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to, but we can. I made sure with the owners that it would be alright if we did.” I tell her.

“No, no that’s okay. We don’t have to go in to say goodbye.”

I fill our glasses, then toast. “To the place you were raised in, a house that’s frame has supported you for years just knowing it was there. A frame that’s no longer needed.” We drink.

I saved the hardest part for last and with the slight buzz from the champagne
, I know this one is going to be the most emotional.

The drive is fairly short and I don’t think Natalie has any clue as to what’s coming next, so when we’re only a few minutes until our destination
, I tell her.

“We don’t have to go here if you don’t want to, but I thought that maybe saying goodbye, having some kind of closure after all of this
-all that we have gone through-might be good for a new beginning.”

Natalie shakes her head yes. As we pull into the cemetery
, I fill our glasses for the last time, for the last goodbye.

We both drink it slowly and the feeling is bittersweet. That after everything
, she has finally found happiness and that light is shining in her eyes once again.

She goes to her parents gravestones by herself
. She insisted. Although, I made sure she knew that if she wanted me there, all she had to do was give me a look and I would be there.