Five Years Gone: A Standalone Contemporary Romance Page 21
“Can you come in for a minute?”
I gaze at the clock and see I have ninety minutes until my appointment. “Sure. Be right in.” I print out the briefing, grab a notebook and pen and head for his office. Keith isn’t at his desk, so I knock on the open door.
“Come in, Ava.”
Miles gets up and comes around his desk, gesturing to the seating area in front of the window. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
He’s like a totally different person since he got together with Sky, and I like seeing this new side to him, the lighter, happier side. I also admire that even as he fell for Sky, he’s never backed off his work on behalf of Emerson and the family group. He sits next to me but doesn’t say anything.
“What’s up?”
“That’s what I wanted to ask you.”
With that one sentence, I realize my friend Miles—and not my boss—has requested this meeting. I look down at the floor.
“Ava…”
“I’m trying to move past it, Miles. I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s okay with you.” Talking about it to Jessica will be enough torture for one day.
“I’m worried about you. You haven’t been yourself since you found out…”
“That the man I once loved with all my heart is alive and didn’t have the decency to tell me that himself?”
The look he gives me is full of empathy—and pity. I hate the pity almost as much as I hate John.
“I just wondered if maybe it’s possible that he can’t contact you for whatever reason.”
I’ve thought of that. Of course I have, but it’s been weeks since the video was released, and if he has any kind of soul left, surely he must know that seeing his face would send me reeling. How could he not try to get word to me after that video went public? “Anything is possible,” I say to Miles.
“I wish there was something I could do for you. I’ve exhausted every contact I have trying to get more information, but the Pentagon is locked up tighter than a drum when it comes to details about the men involved in the raid.”
“I… I didn’t know you’d done that. Thank you for trying.”
“It was nothing.”
“It’s not nothing to me.”
He seems pained when he adds, “If I found out Emmie was out there somewhere and hadn’t contacted me…” He shakes his head. “I can’t even imagine what that would be like.”
“It’s torture,” I say bluntly. “I wish I could just forget about him and go on with my life, but…”
“You can’t. You never will.”
“No, I won’t.”
“At least I have closure, knowing she’s gone and won’t be back. You’ve been stuck in this horrible state of purgatory for so long.”
“I hate him for that,” I say softly. “He said he loved me. How could he do this to me?” I hate myself for shedding more tears for someone who’s proven he’s not worth them.
Miles puts an arm around me and tries to offer comfort. “I’m sorry, Ava. Everyone who cares about you would do anything to help you find some peace.”
“That would be nice.” I wipe my face and struggle to regain my composure. “Let’s talk about the briefing.”
“We don’t have to if you don’t feel up to it.”
“I’m fine, and I made good progress today.” We spend the next thirty minutes fine-tuning the family group’s response to the latest round of media inquiries. Every time there’s a development, our workload triples. It’s been crazier than ever since the capture of Al Khad and the release of the video.
“This all looks great. Just run it by Dawkins to make sure he’s good with it before you release it.”
“Will do.”
“Let me know if he has any unreasonable requests, and I’ll rein him in.”
“Sometimes I think managing him is your biggest role in this organization.”
“It definitely is.”
Miles is the voice of reason on behalf of the families, who respect him greatly.
“Is there going to come a day when this story is no longer the story of our lives?” I’m not sure where the question comes from, but I’ve asked it before I can ponder whether I should.
“Yeah, I think that day will come, but it won’t be any time soon.” What he means but doesn’t say is that with Al Khad facing a trial in the next few years, the civil case against the government proceeding and a renewed interest in a permanent memorial to the victims, the story has “legs,” as we say in our business.
“I know,” I say, sighing.
His hand on my arm has me looking at him, noting the intense expression on his handsome face. “It doesn’t have to be the story of your life, Ava. We can take you off this account so you don’t have to deal with it every day anymore. As much as I’d hate to lose your valuable contributions, I’d totally understand if it’s too much for you.”
“I might take you up on that at some point.” The work that was so meaningful to me when I didn’t know John’s fate has lost some of its luster now that I know he’s alive. I’ve lost the personal connection to the cause that fueled my passion for it.
“Just say the word and we’ll make a change. No questions asked.”
“Thank you, Miles. You’ve been such a great friend to me these last few months. I can’t thank you enough for the professional opportunities and the personal support. It’s meant everything to me.”
“I could say the same to you—and I owe you forever for introducing me to Sky.”
“I’m so glad you’re happy with her.”
“I’m beyond happy. I’m madly in love, and it feels so good to be moving on with my life after such a long period of terrible darkness.”
His words penetrate the fog of grief that’s surrounded me for weeks, reminding me that I’ve already moved on with my life and finding out that John is alive doesn’t change anything that truly matters for me. I’m madly in love with Eric, and it’s time to put the past where it belongs and focus fully on the future with him.
“Yes,” I say to Miles. “It does feel good to be moving on.” I can tell I surprise him when I lean in to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For saying exactly what I needed to hear.”
“Okay…”
“I’ve allowed the past to suck me back into the rabbit hole these last few weeks. Enough is enough. It’s time to move past the darkness to focus on the future.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that.”
“I’m glad I finally realized it. See you tomorrow?”
“I’ll be here.”
I leave him with a smile and head back to my cubicle, where I pick up my phone and send a text to Jessica.
So sorry—something came up, and I can’t make it tonight.
You want to reschedule? I can fit you in tomorrow same time.
I think for a long moment before I respond. No, thank you. I’ve decided I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m done.
Ava… Are you sure that’s wise?
It might be the wisest thing I’ve ever done. I’m okay. I promise.
Call me if that changes?
Absolutely. Thank you for everything. You’ve been a big part of the team that put Ava back together.
It’s been a pleasure. You should know that I admire you more than just about anyone I’ve ever known, and I’ll be right here if you ever need me.
Her kind words bring tears to my eyes. Not sure I deserve that, but thank you just the same.
You deserve every good thing. Be kind to yourself and be happy.
That’s the plan! I’ll be in touch.
I’ll look forward to that. xo
I leave the office and splurge on a cab, eager to get home to Eric. I text him on the way. I’m making you dinner. Anything you want…
Thought you had Jessica tonight??
Canceled.
Everything okay???
Yep! So dinner…
What’s the occasion?
No occasion.
That’s my favorite kind.
Smiling, I type my reply. When will you be home?
Leaving now because my fiancée is making me dinner.
You’re a lucky man.
And I know it.
What do you feel like eating?
Surprise me.
Okay, see you soon.
Love you.
Love you, too.
Chapter Twenty-Four
ERIC
Her text is the best thing that’s happened in weeks. She sounds like her old self and not the shattered woman who’s tried so hard to hide her pain from me and everyone who cares about her. I text her sister.
Ava seems better… Not 100 percent sure yet. But I’ll let you know.
Thank God. Keep me posted.
This is what it’s come to. I’m talking to her sister and friends behind her back because we’ve all been so worried. Finding out that John is alive but didn’t contact her broke something in her, even if she’s never said so. She didn’t have to. Despite her efforts to hide it from me and everyone else, it’s been as obvious as the button nose on her face that her heart is broken—again.
Watching her nurse a broken heart caused by another guy has been excruciating for me, but I keep telling myself it’s not about me. It’s about her. It’s all about her.
Rob says some of it is about me, but I don’t care about myself. I only care about her and trying to get her past this setback so we can return to our life already in progress.
Rob has decided to run for Congress and has asked me to manage his campaign. I told him I’d think about it, but I’ve been so focused on Ava that I haven’t had even two seconds to ponder his offer. Part of me wishes he wouldn’t run, but I’d never say that to him. From the time we were very young, he’s had big political ambitions, and I don’t want to hold him back. But after the scandal of our parents’ divorce, I think the public could use a break from the Tildens.
I take the subway home, and I’m walking toward my building when I see Ava coming from the bodega on the corner, her arms laden with colorful reusable grocery bags. I jog toward her, and when she sees me coming, her face lights up with pure pleasure that’s such a welcome sight to me, I nearly trip over my own feet. I haven’t seen anything resembling joy from her in longer than I’d care to admit. I began to wonder if she might be lost forever in her grief and despair. Seeing her smiling and putting in the effort to plan a meal for us… I can’t find the words to describe how happy that makes me.
I relieve her of the bags and then kiss her. Her gorgeous face is red from the cold, and her eyes are bright with excitement. I want to know what happened today, but I’m so afraid to burst the fragile bubble that I refrain from asking. While she handles the locks and doors, I carry the bags inside, up the stairs and deposit them on the kitchen counter.
“Thank you so much,” she says. “Your timing, as always, is impeccable.”
I smile at the inside joke that stems from the fact that we’ve gotten very good at achieving simultaneous orgasms. Because she’s smiling and happy and referring to our simultaneous orgasms, I put my arms around her and bring her in for a better kiss than the one on the street. My heart soars when she opens her mouth to my tongue and wraps her arms around my neck.
I lose myself in her and the kiss, thankful to have her back in my arms after dwelling in the terrible distance that formed between us after I had to tell her the news about John, or He Who Shall Not Be Named (HWSNBN), as I think of him. I become aware of the fact that I’m getting warm and not just from the kiss.
With my lips still on hers, I remove my coat, drop it to the floor and then see to hers, first unwrapping the colorful scarf from around her neck and then removing her coat and adding it to the pile on the floor.
“Eric,” she says, sounding breathless.
I open my eyes to study her, noticing her swollen lips and flushed cheeks. “What, honey?”
“Let’s go to bed.”
“What about dinner?”
“Later?”
“Later sounds good.” We should put away the groceries, but I feel an urgent need to roll with it while she’s present and in the moment with me. “Hold on to me.”
“Why—”
Cupping her sexy ass, I lift her, making her squeak with surprise as she wraps her legs around my waist. She starts to laugh, but I drown out her laughter with more deep kisses while I walk us to the bedroom. She kisses me back with the enthusiasm I’ve come to expect from her.
I’ve tried to give her space and room to process her grief, but it’s been hard to keep my distance from her, especially right after we made a huge commitment to each other. Having her back in my arms is the only thing I need to be happy. I undress her slowly, touching her reverently, hoping I’m conveying everything she means to me with every caress and kiss. She’s become my whole world, and seeing her suffer has been brutal for me, especially because there isn’t a thing I can do to make it better for her.
I’ve made daily phone calls to my father, begging him to use every contact he has at his disposal to get us more information about HWSNBN, so Ava can finally have the answers she needs to fully move on with her life. Dad has called in every favor owed to him, but he hasn’t been able to learn anything more than what everyone else knows. My frustration has never been higher than in the last few weeks as I watched her slip further from me with every passing day.
I’ve been feeling increasingly more desperate to reach her, which reminded me far too much of the aftermath of the Brittany disaster.
I release the front clasp of her bra and push the cups aside to reveal full, round breasts and light pink nipples that tighten as the cool air washes over them. Bending my head, I take her left nipple into my mouth, pin it against my teeth with my tongue and suck.
Her hips come off the bed, her fingers grasp my hair, and her nipple gets harder under my tongue. “So sweet,” I whisper. I love everything about her—the soft silk of her skin, her taste, her scent, her enthusiasm. I’ve never wanted any woman the way I do her, and I set out to prove that to her by kissing her until she’s writhing in a fever of need beneath me.
I raise her legs to my shoulders and open her to my tongue, exploring her sensitive flesh while I move my fingers in her, triggering an orgasm that comes as sweet relief to me because she’s still with me, still able to let go with me. It fills me with hope that she turned a corner today and left the darkness behind.
“Eric,” she says, breathless in the aftermath of release.
“What, sweetheart?”
“I need you. Please…”
Hearing she needs me sparks something primal in me. I shed my clothes with fumbling fingers and come down on top of her, gazing into her wide, open eyes as I push into her tight wetness. “I love you. More than anything in this world.”
“I love you, too. Just as much.”
The words are a balm, soothing the fears that have kept me awake night after night, torturing me with what-ifs. She’s here, right here in my arms where she belongs and giving herself to me without reservation.
Gazing into her eyes as I move in her, I feel a connection with her that’s soul-deep. It touches every part of me and makes me wish I had the words to tell her what she means to me, how essential she’s become. Since I don’t have the words, I try to show her, giving her everything I’ve got until she’s coming with a strangled cry. I know the signs by now and when to let go of my closely held control so we can come together.
That moment of total unity is the closest thing to religion I have in my life. It makes me believe in higher powers and heaven and angels right here on earth.
For a long time after, we remain joined, arms around each other, bodies cooling, desire sated for now. It feels like a homecoming of sorts, to be close to her again after so many weeks of uncertainty.
“I’ve been thinking about our wedding,” she says, breaking the long silence.<
br />
“You have?” It’s the first mention she’s made of our plans since that awful morning three weeks ago.
“Uh-huh. What would you think about a tent on the lawn at Croton?”
I notice her use of our family’s shorthand word for “home,” and it gives me pleasure to hear her speaking “Tilden.”
“Would it be weird to have it there after what happened with your mom last summer?”
“Nah. That’s one of a million memories there, most of them good.” None of us has spoken to our mother in months. I hope her new life is worth what she gave up for it, but otherwise, I rarely think of her.
“What would we do about parking?” Ava asks.
I run my hand up and down her arm. “We could use the high school parking lot and shuttle them over.”
“So you like the idea?”
“I love it.”
“I looked at the town’s website, and if we do it on the third of July, we’ll get fireworks, compliments of the town.”
“That’d be fun.”
“Are you busy on the third of July?”
“It’s starting to sound like I might be.”
Her smile lights up her face and my world. “So it’s a date?”
“It’s a date.”
“I… I just want to say thank you for your patience with me these last few weeks and even before that. I know it hasn’t been easy… You’ve been my rock.”
I’m deeply moved to hear her say that. “I always want to be there for you, Ava. It’s been so hard to watch you struggle with this.”
“I know, and I’m sorry if I left you out of it or checked out on you or—”
I kiss her. “Shhh, you have nothing to be sorry about.”
“It’s going to be better now. I promise.”
I still want to know what changed, but I don’t ask. Whatever it was, she seems to have made peace with the situation, so what does it matter how it happened?
“The only thing that matters to me is you and your well-being. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
“I feel really lucky every day to have been matched up with you at my sister’s wedding, but never more so than I have in the last few weeks.”