her and mentioning Emily in the same breath. She actually needs me to calm my balls and be her pal. She requires a stag who only fancies being with her and no other. The way her eyes go from clear to cloudy is uncanny. I truly can’t stop looking at her, and just when I think I can see through those troubled, lonely eyes, she closes them. It did feel glorious when I made her smile for those few times. If only that world I just described actually existed, and Sara and I didn’t have loads of baggage between us. What if we could begin fresh? It would be ace to live in a world where your family stands by you and doesn’t forsake you, and your heart only fancies the things it’s allowed to keep. No ghosts or demons clouding our eyes…just this feeling of hope and warmth and of being wanted and chosen from amongst all others. I’d give anything to live in that kind of world.
As much as I long to kiss her all day and bang her all night, I know it’s not the square thing to do. I shouldn’t even put my tongue inside her without knowing what kind of pain her insides are filled with. I can’t become the cause of more hurt for this sad bird. We ought to have words, but not here. Suppose that tosser, Rossi, comes back to bang her again? I’m almost certain that he doesn’t frequent her bed during the day, but what if he does? I’d kill him. Enough! Why do I even care if he bloody touches her? This is about working Emily out of my system and hopefully convincing Sara I’m trustworthy enough to be able to meet up with her mate, which will help me move on with my fucking life. Therefore, I don’t have a right to care who touches her—she’s not mine, but brother do I hope she’s not Jeffery’s, either.
I close my eyes, too, as I lay beside her, holding her delicate hand and trying to think about the “real world,” my fucked-up worthless life, and how alone I truly am. Yesterday, all I wanted was a chance to talk to Emily, to perhaps touch her again, and now, suddenly, I fancy making her best mate, a sort I have no business knowing, a bird I only just met and who’s proving to be the perfect distraction, I suddenly have a need to make her smile. Fucked up is too light of a term to describe how confused I am. The only thing I know for certain is that if we leave our real worlds behind, perhaps one day we’ll have an opportunity to be happy.
“We don’t let it. Only we can make it real and then nobody can take it away. It will be our world. We just have to want it badly enough and choose each other.” Our world… I roll that combination of words in my mind and it sounds so far-fetched. Did I just ask her to choose me out loud? Am I a total fucking loon? Why am I wishing she would tell me we’re not crazy for going down this blasphemous road and that this is where we ought to be? Sara, choose me, I whisper again in my mind, and then I feel her squeeze my hand a little tighter…and that’s all I need.
“No One Is To Blame” by Howard Jones
Liam and I need to have words before we upgrade our relationship from strangers who lick into each other’s mouths to strangers who get naked and lick into each other’s mouths. He can’t go around building imaginary worlds for us when there is no us! He’s nothing to me! I just need him to fuck me hard and fast so I can let go of this stupid idea that I belong to Jeffery. I don’t belong to anybody. But first, we both need to be in agreement on one very important truth. “Liam, you—I mean, we need to talk about your feelings for Emily.”
He opens his eyes and looks at me, and just before he starts opening his mouth to try and talk, I hold my finger up to shut him up. I need to say my piece first.
“I need for you to understand what Emily shares with her husband. Don’t roll your eyes or yes me, I need to make you understand that what those two have is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love.