Bliss (2 page)

Eric would have never wanted me to be in so much pain. I knew that. This was the reason I attended the grief meetings. Some days I went more than once. Most morning I woke up with such overwhelming anxiety that I
went to make it through the day.

“What about you, Morgan?” Jon asked me, he dropped his head back to his notebook and scribbled some random thought about the meeting down.

I bit my lip and ran a hand through my hair. “Today has been tough. That’s what brought me here.”

Jon lifted his head. “What’s been tough?”

I squeezed Eric’s ring in my hand. “Everything is tough. Just making a simple meal is hard anymore.”

Jon’s eyebrows met in the middle. “
Have you been working on what we talked about last week?”

Last week Jon and I
had sex in the back seat of his car and his apartment. I wasn’t sure what he meant.

Jon rubbed at his nose. “Coming to grips with our partner’s imperfections?”

I nodded, of course that rung a bell, but Eric as far as I was concerned was flawless. It was hard to find someone so perfect imperfect.

“There was nothing imperfect about him,” I said refusing to look at anyone in the meeting. They all were miles ahead of me when it came to their own losses. I just wanted to be alone to deal with the fact my husband was gone and no longer a part of the universe.

I realized my choice in showing up for the meeting was a big mistake as soon as the tears overflowed and spilled down my cheeks. Several of the women attending the meeting shifted their gazes away from me as if I was some poor pathetic lost cause.

I forced myself to paint on a smile. “We all have our moments of breaking down. Excuse me.”

I stood prepared to make a break for it. Jon stood up. “Let’s not run today, Morgan. I want you to try and deal with this breakdown head on.”

I agreed to stay for fear of the alternative.

“Was there anything about Eric that wasn’t so perfect?” Jon asked, like many times before.

I wasn’t so sure. I closed my eyes and wiped the tears from beneath my eyes. “He never shut off the
coffee pot.”

I forced a laugh, opening my eyes. That was all I was willing to give. It hurt to tear Eric apart by any means, even if it
made me heal. I didn’t want to forget about him, I wanted to find a way to feel what he made me feel all over again.

Jon nodded his head in acceptance of my words. “Good. See we all have our flaws, even if it’s something as small as coffee. This concludes group for today, feel free to stop by tomorrow.”

I pocketed Eric’s wedding band in my purse. I felt even worse, not better.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” Jon asked as soon as the last person exited the room leaving us alone.

“No, just back home.”

He touched my neck, dragging his thumb to my collarbone. “You did good today.”

“Thanks,” I said with zero enthusiasm behind the words.

Button b
y button he undid my top. “It’s going to be alright.”

I wasn’t sure if I believe
d him. Nothing felt alright since the day of the accident. I envied the men and women in the group that moved forward and pushed on with their lives.

“We’re all different, Morgan.” Wi
th the flick of his wrist I was out of my bra. “We come from different places. Don’t beat yourself up because you’re dealing with things at a different speed than all the rest.”

A different speed, I was in a whole different atmosphere. I didn’t understand.

I closed my eyes to the pain and forced myself to enjoy Jon’s mouth as it kissed my neck and tugged me against him, his fingers made my nipples hard with the slightest touch.

He was a man’s man. Tall, broad, with hands that knew how to handle a woman, a car or anything that needed some type of manipulation.

My back hit the wall and I breathed in his cologne, he smelled fresh and rustic, coupled with mint from the toothpaste he used. I tugged him by the hair to my neck, but like every time before he resisted going for my lips.

“Jon,” I warned
, tapping him on the lips with the pads of my fingers. His lips connected with two of them, his tongue gliding down the length of them sending shivers down my spine all the way to the holy grail, making me wet. Why didn’t I want to be a part of that?

He licked his lips and dropped to his knees
, struggling with the buttons on my shorts he freed me, his hands gripped my hips and he pushed me into the wall even harder. His tongue glided across the cotton of my panties, making my knees shake. We were all alone in the meeting house, the door open for anyone to walk right in and catch us. The fact that he didn’t care turned me on even more.

Jon
nibbled my hip bone and stopped long enough to look up at me. “I wish one day you would let me kiss you.”

I rocked my hips forward
pushing his face into me. “Kiss me.” I shuddered in delight at the feel of his tongue against my clit, his hot breath against my skin. His hands held me in place, refusing to let me leave or give up.

I cupped the back of his head pushing and pulling him against me.
His mouth didn’t help. I tugged him by the hair away from me.

He stood up wiping his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. I felt bad and I was sure I was damaging his ego in the process. “I want to feel normal again. I don’t remember the last time I came and it’s making me crazy.”

Jon ran a hand through his hair, and adjusted his package. “Go home, get some rest.”

I grabbed him by the belt buckle. “What about you? I don’t want to leave you like this.”

He looked down at the bulge in his jeans and shrugged. “Nothing I can’t take care of on my own.”

I sighed. I wasn’t used to Jon being so passive; Most times we enjoyed being together. I slipped a hand through my brown hair pinning it down and buttoned my shorts. There was nothing more that I could do, I needed to leave. Jon wasn’t my problem; he was my grief counselor. I wasn’t supposed to be making him feel better, he was in charge of making me feel better, that was his job.

I guess our clumsy arrangement ended up being just that clumsy. And now we were both struggling with something else altogether.

I knew one thing, I was messed up. I went to bed every night thinking that.

I dropped my keys in the ceramic bowl in the hallway of my apartment, yanked my shoes off and headed for my bedroom. It was eerie how still your home was when you were alone in it.

I slipped out of my shorts, dropped them on the ground
and rifled through the closet for something to wear. I found the usual shirt I put on for the bad days. And this was one of them.

I slipped the old
football jersey over my head kicking off my underwear before I climbed into bed.

My cat Stella jumped off of the bed and headed out of the room. She wasn’t the cuddly type. In fact she was a stray that Eric took in and she never seemed to enjoy living in our home. I wondered sometimes why I didn’t release her back into the wild.

I turned the television on and resumed play on the video I had been watching. It was Eric playing the guitar. I remembered it like it happened just the other day.

“What do you want to hear?” I mouthed his words at the exact moment he said them, the remote pressed against my cheek, he strummed the guitar string
s, his head down, his gorgeous green eyes hidden from view.

And then he looked at me.
Those intense eyes of green, that saw every part of me each and every time.

I smiled at his crooked grin. And waited for him to say those words he always said to me. One, two, three chords and he stopped and looked at me. “If only I could write a song that describes how I feel about you. But there are no words to describe it.”

And he strums the cords again, dropping his gaze back to the guitar.

I smile through tears as he looks back up and grins, that beautiful grin. He bites down on his lip teasing me until the camera shakes and both of us are in front of it. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he tossed the guitar down with a bang, he doesn’t care if he breaks it because the one thing that matters to him is me and it’s the only time in my life I could ever say that.

My body blocks him from the camera, and I ache for his hands around me again, the way
they slipped up my back going under my shirt, the way they made love to every inch of my skin.

My fingers take on a mind of their own
, as I watch Eric and I share one of the best moments of my life. I closed my eyes imagining him with me, my fingers moving faster, I’m turned on, and I clumsily hurry as it builds and builds, my hips jerk, my toes curl and it happens.

The cat meows as I let out a glorious groan of pleasure, jerking my body along to the release that has been waiting for so long to come out, my legs part even wider and I slip two fingers inside
pushing myself even farther.

“Shit,” I said, my head
falling back into the pillow. “That’s what it fucking feels like.”

I wasn’t sure if anyone could ever make me feel the way Eric did
again.

I
didn’t have the best childhood. I was raised by a single mother, and never met my father.

My mother didn’t provide a stable homelife
whatsoever when I was a kid. Growing up with her for a mom was hard, but we managed to survive. And when she moved away with her new husband I didn’t see her often.

We
talked on the phone a lot and sometimes shared lunch together.

I waved her over happy to see the woman who tried her best to raise me. Today was our lunch date and I was glad
, there was so much I wanted to say, things I wanted to get off of my chest.

“Your hair is longer,” she said, pushing it off of my shoulders to get a better look at me.

I pulled my sunglasses off and put them in my purse. “And you colored yours.”

She lifted the menu. “Dave took me out for a spa day. I figured I’d try something new.”

She didn’t like trying new things. But ever since she met the love of her life she wanted to be better. And I liked that someone could change her so much, someone who could take some of the load and help her through life. She never had that.

“Ana says they have amazing alfredo here,” I said, scanning over the menu. “Maybe I’ll try that.”

My mom grabbed me by the wrist. “You’re still running around with your wedding band on?”

I frowned. “It wouldn’t feel right taking it off.”

Mom sighed. “Eric would want you to be happy. Have you been seeing that grief counselor I told you about?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Mom. I am still seeing Jon a few times a week.”

Grief counseling was her idea, my Christmas present to be exact; I didn’t get a nice gift from my mother and her husband. I got an email with the number to a grief meeting in town. And I didn’t have anything else to do so I went.

“That Jon seems to be a great help,” she said.

“He tries to be.”

We ordered lunch and I was eager to get back to conversation while we waited. Eager to tell her how I had been handling life anymore. I wanted to hear my mom’s advice, because she always knew what to say to make me feel better.

She smoothed her dark brown hair and leaned in. “Are you still hooking up?”

“Yes and failing
miserably at it,” I said, I immediately regretted what I said as soon as the words left my lips.

I didn’t keep anything
from her. Nothing shocked my mom. She didn’t care if I slept with my grief counselor. She wanted to see me better. She wanted me to move on.

“I think he sounds like a good man. And I think Eric would give you his blessing if you wanted to start something with this guy,” she leaned back hooking her arm over the back of her chair.
“It’s good for you.”

I swallowed my ice water and set it back on the table. “If it was that easy I would have moved on by now.”

“When do you go back to work?”

“I’ve been back for some time. But they understand, and I go in when they need me.”

“Have you been eating three meals a day?” She wrinkled her brow. She worried about me all the time.

“Yes, I’m eating and bathing and having sex,” I stared off dropping my head into my palm.

Mom stirred her coffee. “Then I am happy and proud of you.”

I studied my wedding ring, looking up at my mom. “You always know what to say to make me feel better. So please, say something to get me out of this funk.” I needed to move forward, before I drowned in my own grief.

She leaned in jabbing her finger in the air. “You need to let go. Go for whatever it is your stopping yourself from doing. Don’t think just do.” She pressed her lips together daring me to disagree.

“Fine, for once I will try it your way.” I
would try my best to move forward.

***

And forward was just what I did.

Jon placed the last chair against the wall as I walked in, the grief meeting was over and he was alone.

“Missed you tonight,” he said cleaning up the Styrofoam cups.

“I had lunch with my mom,” I told him. “She says hi by the way.”

“And how did that go?” Jon asked, raising an eyebrow.

He dropped the last of the cups into the garbage.

I twisted my hands together
. “She gave me some good advice.” Now I needed a willing participant. Which I hoped was Jon.

He hit the back lights plunging half the room in darkness. “You’ve always thought your mom had your best interest at heart. I’m sure it would be a good place to start.”

Oh why did he have to be so stubborn all of a sudden?

I moved forward and sighed. “I’m sorry for the other day.”

Jon stopped working on the mess.

“I understand that I’m not letting go and that if I continue going down this road I am going to be nothing but miserable.” I swallowed. “So why not now?”

He grinned, his hands slipping into his jeans. “What are you waiting for?”

I closed the space between us, staring up at him. His eyes softened
once he realized I wasn’t playing chicken this time.

“Are you sure you want it to be with me?” He tapped his finger against his bottom lip.

“You have been the one constant in my life since Eric’s death. I couldn’t imagine who else I’d rather take the first step with.” He grabbed the back of my head pulling me against his lips.

My
mouth opened, I wanted to feel Jon’s kiss. I needed to know it was okay to feel that level of intimacy with another person. I closed my eyes, enjoying the control his hands possessed as he kissed me. The feel of his strong hands against my neck, it pushed me forward, I slipped my hands around his neck.

Jon wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling away long enough to look into my eyes. He smiled, licking his lips. We connected again, I slid fingers through his hair, trailing them down his neck until they found his chest and stayed there.

Jon squeezed my hand, his heart pounding. “I like this.”

I closed my eyes offering up another kiss, pulling away at the image of Eric flashing in my conscience.
I backed away shaking my head. Jon knew before I said anything that I regretted it.

He planted a kiss on my forehead, pulling me into his arms. “Don’t beat yourself
up. You tried, that’s still a step.”

I squeezed him back, pressing my head into his chest. At least he understood.