Forget Me Not (22 page)

I wait impatiently for a reply for several long minutes. I then wonder if he will reply at all while he is distracted at work, but before doubt completely takes over a reply flashes across my screen.

I love you so much already, but that photo has pushed me over the edge. You own me. Goodnight, sweets. See you in your dreams. I’ll be the one on my knees ;-) x

The double meaning fills me with a deeper longing to be with him. I want him in every way. I stop myself from texting a sonnet full of declarations, knowing that no words will do my love for him justice when they are displayed on a tiny screen. Instead, I reply with an understated…

I love you too x

…and look forward to a time when I can express my adoration in person.

Bang, bang, bang
.

No answer.

Bang, bang, bang
.

“Jesus, Michaela!” Joanna cries as she pulls open her front door. “I heard you the first time, how about give me the time to…”

“I know what you did.” I scorn. “I’m here to tell you that I
know
what you did.”

She lifts her chin in stubborn denial. “Know that I did what?”

“That you told Jesse to leave. That you practically walked him onto the train,” I accuse, pushing past her and making my way into the hall of her house.

“Come in why don’t you,” she mutters, but I hear it and shoot her a warning look. She sighs pointedly and closes the door.

This is the first chance I have had to confront Joanna since Jesse has left. I didn’t want to taint the time I had with him by getting upset over my sister and her traitorous ways. So, I have buttoned my mouth, until now.

“How could you do that, Jo?”

She walks past me and sits on the stairs, her elbows on her knees and her head hanging in defeat. “He told you?” she asks.

“Of course he told me.”

“And now you hate me,” she states. I roll my eyes, neither denying her assumption nor confirming it. “Look, I wasn’t trying to be a bitch, and I certainly didn’t know how badly you were going to take his leaving. I just…I knew you were going to get hurt eventually and I thought that it would be easier getting hurt before you were so invested.”

“I was already invested,” I snap.

“I see that now, and I know it’s too little too late, but for what it’s worth I’m sorry and I really do regret what I did.”

Her apology resonates throughout my anger, dispersing it enough for me to think clearly. I feel like I’m reprimanding her, towering over her like this, so I sit cross-legged on the floor in front of her, needing her to go on without the fear of me losing it.

“But, I don’t understand why you even felt the need to get involved. I mean, I knew you hated Jesse, but…”

Interrupting she insists, “I never hated Jesse.”

“Really?” I snipe, my words dusted with sarcasm.

“Really. I can’t say that I’m as in love with him as everybody else who crosses his path, but that isn’t his fault.”

“Then whose fault is it?”

Using the thumbs on both hands she indicates herself, smiling dryly. 

“Your fault?”

“Mine.” She shakes her head lightly and I sense her hesitation. “I kind of had a thing with his brother. It was before you and Jesse were an item and I don’t even think Jesse knew about it.” My mouth hangs open in complete shock. I’m not surprised that Ted and Joanna could have been acquainted in that way, but I’m stunned that she’s kept it yet another secret from me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He didn’t want anyone to know. It was when I was back from college and it was agreed that it was just going to be a casual fling. But I stupidly fell for him.
Really
fell for him. I thought that we could work something out, ya’ know? Try long distance, maybe.” She shrugs, heavily. I can see her pain and I want to reach for her but I know she’s trying to be strong. “And then he called it off. I knew he would. I saw firsthand what happened at their house and I knew that he’d leave as soon as he could, but it killed me when he left and… I didn’t want the same thing to happen to you.”

My hands wring out the confusion as my mind is stumped by the information I’m receiving.  I can’t believe she didn’t tell me, and I can’t understand how I never came across the pair myself. I know she can be secretive. She never told us about the difficulties her marriage was going through until she had already applied for a divorce. But that was hidden behind the doors of her house. This was going on right under my nose.

“Say something, Mickey.”

“I-I’m in shock. You should have told me. I could have been there for you.”

“I’m the older sister. I’m the one meant to look after you.”

“That’s what you thought you were doing by getting rid of Jesse?”

“Looking back, yes. I just always knew there was a possibility that he was going to leave you, like Ted left me.”

“It still doesn’t excuse what you did.”

“Nothing will.”

“No. Not when you’ve had years to tell me.”

“And every year it got more difficult.”

I shake my head. I can’t pity her. “Jesse blames himself for going. He’s hidden away all of this time because of what you said to him.”

She sags at my words, her hand rubbing her brow as if she is actually pained by this knowledge. “I’ll speak to him.”

“Yes, you will.”

“I really am sorry. It was stupid, and I’m sorry.”

I’m silent as I concentrate on what this all means. It doesn’t really affect my relationship with my sister, but at least I now have a reason for her coldness towards Jesse. I’m happy that she’s finally been able to relinquish the weight from her shoulders, even after too long a time, and I’m glad that I can let go of the anger that I’ve harbored for her since Jesse told me.

“I would always have understood if you’d told me about Ted, Jo.” I reach out and touch her arm.

“I know that. It’s my issue, Mickey.” She pulls me into a very un-Jo-like embrace and whispers into my ear. “I do like him. I can see how happy you all are.” When we pull apart she is smiling and I reciprocate.

“We’re insanely happy,” I correct.

“I know. It’s sickening,” she chuckles.

Even throughout a busy weekend saturated with play dates, work and interfering parents, I am in no less pain than I was in the second that Jesse left. I encounter rare moments where he isn’t at the forefront of my mind, but when I remember, the ache returns with added intensity.

The only way I can concentrate on anything other than Jesse is to throw myself into endless games and activities with Benjamin. Once again he has adopted the roll of my savior, and if I wasn’t already, I am now forever in his debt. 

This weekend we have been to the park, the cinema and swimming. We’ve made cakes with Lily and Emma, played soccer and made clay robot figures. I should be tired but instead of exhaustion I find peace. The busier I am, the less I focus on my heavy heart. It’s when I stop that I’m reminded of the lingering ache. It’s almost as if my thoughts are a carnivorous beast that I must out run, but the moment I’m still, I am savaged.

It’s at night that I truly suffer, but the promise of a bedtime phone call is enough to stop me heading for New York. He has stayed true to his word and called me two or three times a day. Each call begins and ends with confessions of love, deep-filled with promises and playful repartee. Each exchange leaves me feeling stronger and more capable, but my power wanes the longer I go without our communication. Much like how an apple revitalizes the health bar on one of Benjamin’s games.

I have spent
a lot
of time with my son.

Back at work Monday morning and I’m close to losing a life when a mysterious package arrives for me at work. It’s not an ordinary parcel. It’s wrapped in silver paper and bound with silk string. Savoring the suspense, I unwrap the present slowly. Underneath several layers of gold tissue paper lies a small delicate crystal vase. Teasing the rim is a border of pearls which are beautiful, but are overshadowed by a stunning cluster of powder blue flowers. I’m not a flower expert but they’re exactly to my taste, dainty and interesting without being extravagant.

A small card peeks out from beneath the stems and my lazy fingers awake to snatch it. I tear open the envelope and read what my not-so-secret lover has to say.

Forget Me Not – True Love, hope,

remembrance.

These flowers don’t begin to explain how much I’m missing you and how much I hope you’re missing me, but it’s a start.

I love you.

Jesse x

As if the name of the flowers didn’t speak for itself, Jesse has had the consideration to reflect upon their meaning, and that means more than a million roses ever could.

I remove the vase from the box and place them thoughtfully on my desk, only to find another gift beneath it. After ripping the soft parcel open, I unearth a white t-shirt, and with it, the magical aroma of Jesse. His fragrance fills the room and I find myself stumbling to my chair before I fall from my weakened knees. I recognize the t-shirt immediately as the one he wore for our walk on the beach the night after the reunion. I quickly re-wrap the clothing and place it in my bag, frightened of wasting his smell in the confines of my office, knowing that I can best appreciate it within the sanctuary of my bedroom.

I call him immediately and thank him repeatedly, but vocal gratitude doesn’t begin to show how appreciative I really am. So, tomorrow I plan on sending him my own gift.

Chapter 21

It’s so hot in my car. The air conditioning is broken and the open window does nothing but blow hot air in my face. It’s warm out, but not enough to justify my extreme discomfort. No, this heat is radiating from within, generated from the excitement of my road trip and the thought of seeing Jesse.

After his thoughtful gesture yesterday I couldn’t think of any way to repay him other than to be with him. I haven’t got the money to spoil him the way that I want to, and there’s nothing that I could buy him that he couldn’t buy for himself, so my gift will be…me.

It will be a complete surprise and I’m terrified that it won’t be well received, but this gift is as much for me as it is for him. I need to see him, to feel our connection and know that nothing has changed in response to the distance between us, even if it has only been a few days.

I know that he’s at his club,
Junction
, tonight after asking him during our earlier conversation, and I have a rough idea of where that is. I park in the first parking space I find. After relaying text messages with Zoe about my safe arrival and to check on Benji I remind myself how much I owe her for this favor.

Nervously, I reach for my black stilettos lying on the passenger seat and swap them with the sneakers on my feet. I fluff up my hair, ripping it away from my necklace, and coat my lips in a nude gloss before exiting the car. I grab my bag from the trunk, small enough to be deemed acceptable for evening wear but big enough to accommodate the necessities for an overnight stay; fresh underwear, make-up and wipes, and a toothbrush. Smoothing down my black pencil skirt and tucking the loose fitted cream vest in at the waist, I try to muster the courage for what I am about to do.

Heading in what I hope is the general direction of the club, I stop a couple of girls who look local and ask them if they could help me get to
Junction
. Following their directions I walk a couple of blocks, and turn a couple of corners before finding it. The building is much larger than I thought and looks expensively modern. The windows are tinted black but red spotlights break the darkness and add to the seductive appeal.

As I close the distance I notice a lengthy queue spiraling out from the doors. I’m completely surprised and moments later annoyed. Through naivety I would never have expected a Tuesday to be so busy.

It’s already getting late, but I resign myself to spending the next half hour queuing.  I start to make my way to the back of the line when I’m stopped in my tracks by someone calling my name.

“Michaela? Michaela Cole?”

I turn quickly, wanting to match the familiar voice with a face.

“Smithy?”

“It is you! Hey, Mickey!”

Leaving the doorway, he hops down the steps of the entrance, failing to stop moving once he reaches me. His huge arms wrap around me in a bear hug and effortlessly lift me off the ground. My breath is squeezed from my lungs but returns when he places me gently back on the floor.

“What are you doing here?” He chuckles and then taps himself goofily on his shaven head as if he is suddenly reminded of something. “You’re here to see Lee…Jesse.”

“Yeah, I thought I’d stop by, but I wasn’t really expecting it to be so busy.” I shrug.

“Well, Tuesday’s are student night at the bar round the corner so they tend to try their luck here afterwards.”

When I look down the queue and notice a
line-up that could be auditioning for the next High School Musical I suddenly feel ancient. How ridiculous of me for thinking I could get away with dressing like this and entering a place like that.

“Wow, I feel old now. Maybe this was a bad idea.” I shake my head, talking to myself rather than Smithy.

“No way. You look hot, Mickey! Come on.” Taking my hand, he leads me up the steps and through the door as a chorus of groans from the disgruntled queue plays out behind us.

“Thank you, this is really sweet of you, Smithy.”

“It’s no biggy. You want me to get Jesse to come meet you?”

“No!” I shout. “Sorry…it’s meant to be a surprise. Maybe you could just tell me where to look for him instead?”

“Without asking him I wouldn’t know for sure, but if he’s not in his office he’s normally mingling with the VIP’s. Here…”

He lifts my hand that he’s still holding and angles it towards the young girl working behind the counter.

“VIP this, baby girl,” he tells the overly fashionable attendant. She looks me up and down curiously before regaining her composure enough to smile at me falsely. She stamps my hand with black ink that reads ‘Junction – VIP’.

“Thank you so much, Smithy.” I give him a brief kiss on the cheek and squeeze his hand.

“Not a problem. Us Fairview kids have got to look out for each other. Besides, you and Jesse…” he trails off, placing his hands together as if in prayer and looking at me hopefully. He exits through the main doors without finishing his sentence, back to man the queue, leaving me wondering if he is basing his gesture on our past or whether Jesse has spoken to him about our present. Either option fails to ignite further curiosity in me when my attention is completely absorbed by the room that awaits me.              

Darkness drowns me immediately when I push through a set of double doors. My vision is aided somewhat with the use of further red lights, some that border the room and some that hang like modern chandeliers above the few tables that surround the dance floor.

As I listen to the thumping beat of a vague dance number, I scan the room but see no sign of Jesse. He isn’t behind the bar and after a lap of the lower room I determine he isn’t walking the floor either.

In the far corner I can see an area that looks as though it is suspended off the ground. The darkness has failed to conquer that area and so I walk over in the hope that it’s the VIP section. It is. Stood proudly at the top of the steps is a very large gentleman who fails to smile when I show him the stamp on my hand, instead he just steps to the side and unlatches the red rope to let me through.

This space is a more intimate extension of the main area and I much prefer it. The seats look comfier, the music is quieter and I don’t have to squint through the darkness as I make my way towards the bar. Failing to spot Jesse I decide to wait it out with a drink and hope that he makes an appearance soon. I order mine and Emma’s absolute favorite, a strawberry mojito, and take a seat on a tall stool at the bar. I retrieve my phone from my bag in case I have to admit defeat and request Jesse’s presence via text message.

Out of the corner of my eye I’m aware that I may be being watched. The guy is of average build and surprisingly underdressed compared to the majority of the crowd. I can’t help but take a more thorough look at him only to confirm that he is, most definitely, staring at me. I look away at once and then cross my legs and play with my phone, in the hope that my coldness will be enough to deter any attempt at conversation. He’s blonde and good looking, but he knows it, and I don’t want to have to deal with him ruining this for me.

“Did you hurt your leg when you fell from heaven?” he says, confidently.

“Sorry?” I ask, only returning his gaze for a split second before fiddling with my phone again.

“Your knee, it looks pretty sore. I thought maybe you hurt it when you fell from heaven.” I quickly pull my skirt down to hide my still healing knee, internally kicking myself. I chose this skirt purposely because it hid the monstrosity, but I obviously didn’t factor in sitting down.

“Do lines like that normally work for you?” I scoff.

“I’ve said a lot less and gotten a lot more.” His returning grin is creepy and I feel dirty in its presence. “Did you hurt it doing something naughty then? It’s a suspicious looking graze.” His eye line spans the length of my leg and I’m beginning to feel a tad violated. I need to nip this in the bud.

“No, I hurt it in a fight. Don’t worry though, he came off much worse.” I smile, bitterly, but he only sniggers and moves closer, as if my hostility is an invitation. Or a challenge, I suppose.

“Can I buy you a drink to ease the pain?”

“No, I have one.”

“Then let me buy the next.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m waiting for someone.”

“You won’t want anyone else after a drink with me.”

I snort unattractively and turn my back on him. I can’t be bothered to take part in his predatory game. I will just play dead and watch the creature tire and walk away.

“Don’t you know who I am?” In a split second he has moved around to block my new direction and is close enough to spray me in the face with his saliva. His breath is saturated with the smell of gin and tobacco, so much so that I have to stifle a gag.

“Excuse me?” I exclaim.

“I’m Harry Webb? The actor? Any normal girl would be throwing themselves at me.”

“So go and find one of them, asshole,” I snap. I can’t help but smirk in the face of his bragging, but my smile is swiftly eradicated when he grabs me by the arm and pulls me down from the bar stool.

“I found
you
. Let’s get a drink and go get comfy on the sofa. When you get to know me you won’t be able to keep your hands off me,” he demands deep into my ear. His mouth is pressed too hard against me and I’m rapidly overcome with fear.

“Fuck you.” I hiss with false confidence, trying to yank my arm from his grip.

In despair, I look over toward the VIP entrance, hoping to find the bouncer and catch his attention, but my line of sight is obscured by someone rushing towards me. It takes me a second to realize that this angry shadow is Jesse, and it takes me a further second to find myself being pulled away from the asshole and tucked under Jesse’s arm.

“Ray, get him out of him!” he spits, and points to Harry, who has been pushed roughly against the bar.

“Whoa! What’s your problem?”

Straightening out his clothes he steps towards Jesse with cocky familiarity. Jesse’s hand slams into his chest at once, acting as a barrier between us as he squeezes me tighter under his arm. I can’t react. It’s as though I’m watching this as an outside influence.

“You are! You’re my fucking problem! Just go home and cool off, Harry. You’re lucky I don’t ban you,” he commands.

“What the fuck? Because some prick teasing bitch was enjoying playing hard to get?”

In a blur of activity I’m released from Jesse’s grip as he lunges forwards. I’m momentarily alone before I feel someone’s hands guide me by the shoulders, away from the fight that has broken out in front of me. I say fight, but it’s no contest. Jesse has knocked Harry to the floor in one clear swing and is now snarling profanities at him. Jesse stands up but remains half crouched like a lion protecting his territory, and Harry is dragged away by two doormen.

Turning to search for me, Jesse’s eyes meet mine and he holds his hand out for me to step out from behind Smithy. I do so with no hesitation. Fingers stroke my cheek as his eyes, the darkest I’ve ever seen them, scour my face and body for any signs of damage.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Jesse. I…”

“Come with me,” he orders.

Guiding me by hand he leads us down the steps, away from the VIP area and to the bar on the other side of the club. We slide behind the counter and enter a series of doors before coming to one with his name adorning the front.

The door barely has chance to close behind us before his lips are on mine. I need no further invitation as my hands fist in his hair and I push myself against him. I fight my breathlessness, unwilling to release our lips. Like magnets we can’t deny each other. We are burning but can’t stop. In a wave of pure desperation I pull his black shirt from his trousers and wrap my hands around the bare skin of his back. My passion is met with his own as he moves my hair away from my neck and glides my bra strap and vest away from my shoulder so that he can grace my skin with his hungry mouth. We are lost, lost in each other’s skin and I’m not prepared to find my way back.

The connection is tested and subsequently broken by the sound of his phone ringing in the pocket of his pants. Our mouths now apart, we are both panting heavily after finally being forced to breathe. Jesse pushes away from me to take the call. Our bodies now apart, but he has yet to release me from his gaze.

“Yes?” he answers curtly, unashamed to hide his annoyance. “Good. He is not to come back here again. Understand? Fine.” Tossing the phone onto his desk he returns his full attention to me. “What are you doing here?” he asks, cupping my face in his hands.

“
Not
wasting our time.”

He flashes a smile in understanding. “Then don’t,” he whispers before allowing his mouth to trace the curve of my neck again.

“I wanted to surprise you.” I manage to say, despite my faltering breath.

He chuckles lightly and I can’t help but join him. “Well, you certainly did that.”

“I’m sorry,” I sigh. He pulls me further into his arms and I shamelessly breathe in his scent. He smells like home.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I looked for you. I couldn’t find you so I thought I’d wait at the bar. He…”