Love's Forbidden Flower (24 page)

My persona of the devoted nurse has been everything but enticing roleplaying. Donovan’s been brooding in bed ever since we returned home and has nearly banished me from his room. Although we are at peace, all we rebuilt may have crashed and burned.

As midnight chimes life into the morning of my departure, I slip into his room in hopes that we can at least leave all this where we were upon our arrival last week. It's risky though. Can we survive being plummeted back to square one?

Slipping onto the bed, my head tucks into his shoulder. His aroma is more appetizing than anything I’ve ever cooked.

“Lily! What do you think you're doing?”

“I'm spending a final moment with you while Mom and Dad snore. Are you all right?”

“Do I look all right?”

“We both know that's not what I'm talking about. Before we ran into Jennifer there was this wonderful man back in my life. Seeing her was awkward, but it was really nothing. Hey, you need to lie on your side. It'll help your breathing.” Carefully I help him roll over to face me. His tone softens upon his gaze on my sincere expression of devotion.

“Nothing? How can you say it was nothing? We were holding hands in public and got caught.”

Staring into his eyes like a molten-hearted puppy my hand slides up his arm and through his raven locks. My leg curls to touch his. If he's going to revert, it won’t be without enamored protest. “No, we were talking in public exactly like we've done many times. In fact, last year we were in that same restaurant, and you thought nothing of holding my hand then. The only difference was your intentions, which no one could see but you. I would still like to know more about them.”

There's no question in his mind as to my desires. They make him inwardly vulnerable though he struggles to be outwardly unyielding. As he returns my embrace, pulling me so close that our lips feel like butterflies fluttering against each other, he begins to cave to our overwhelming emotions.

“Your skin is so smooth I can't tell where your night gown ends and it begins.”

Entwining myself with him we are pulled in deeper, though with shuttered breath he tenderly begs me to stop. “Lily, please don’t do this. We can’t go down this road.”

He presses his body into mine and the rhythm of his blood overwhelms me. Memories of the time Christopher told me he was falling bathe my mind. They confirm that now my feelings for Donovan must come forth in hopes they will make him just as defenseless as Christopher made me.

As my lips begin to share the emotions in my soul, my mind hears the sound of shattering glass. Donovan snaps at me with words that leave my heart as empty as robbed tomb.

“Go away! You've totally lost your mind! Do you think we will ever be able to get away with it even for a second? You need to leave—
now
!”

Calling Christopher is risky given my fragility after last night’s episode with Donovan. I need my old love to be happy to see me and not leave me feeling like I'm attending yet another funeral for love lost.

“Hello, luv! Nice to finally engage you again. All right? Did you have a Happy Christmas?”

He’s rather jovial. Hopefully it's because of me and not due to someone else on his mind.

I’m seriously mental. I can't have him, and I can't have Donovan, so why am I wasting time clinging to them both?

“Yes, everyone's as normal as ever which is not saying much good. Hey, you owe me emails. I was beginning to think I would never talk to you again. What have you been up to?”

“Nothing special really, just this, that, and the other. Well, actually just this and that. The other seems to elude me,” he says putting his hand on his chin while circling his eyes as if watching something flying by. Alleviated at his expression I openly laugh. “Oh, blimey! I suppose you think my misery is a riot.”

There's the man I love—arms flailing, head bobbling. The absence of seeing it in person makes my chest cave.

“Would you mind terribly if I told you I'm relieved?”

Sheepishly he gazes at me while toying with his finger on the desk. “Do you mean that after all this time you might miss me just a little?”

The truth springs forth from my gut without permission. “Christopher, there's not a day that goes by I don't consider dropping everything and heading off to the airport.”

“Just can’t let go of this dashing creature, eh?” While mocking straightening a necktie, he flashes his famous grin before getting serious. “Really Lilyanna, how'd I ever get so lucky? I never deserved you. I want to carry on, but it hasn't been easy. I still love you, you know? But really, what choice do we have now?”

“Well Graham, if you ever want to meet me in California, drop me a line. You never know what I'll say. And for what it's worth, I still love you too. No matter what happens I don’t ever see that changing.”

With watery eyes, we finish the call. It pains me to admit that we each need to move on. God knows I'm trying.

My attention turns to the ring he gave me. Again I start to remove it—but it’s time to accept that won't happen. Truthfully I adore it. It's become more than a gift from my ex. It's a reminder that I'm a strong person, a survivor. For that reason alone I wouldn't dare break its bond with my skin. So in the spirit of survival, with one free day before school starts there are but as many goals. It's time to formally tell Donovan to piss off!

It's time to revamp my life again. The last time that urge overcame me I went out for a nice cup of coffee and a Pain Au Chocolat. That single action led to a fantastic job, getting into the best pastry school in the country, a true friend and mentor in Josette, and meeting my beloved Christopher. Can lightning strike twice?

Driving towards a supposedly great coffee shop in Poughkeepsie my objective is to have breakfast while deciding how to tell Donovan to shove it up his ass. It's long past time to take out the trash and make room in my heart.

But can the door ever be slammed shut on Donovan and our complexities?

The question causes my mind to wander, jettisoning me past my intended exit by several miles. Donovan's dorm is now only an hour and a half away. The fewer the miles between us, the more rapid my pulse, and the faster I race toward him.

My tires squeak and the car bounces as it hits the driveway to Donovan’s dorm. Alex writes from a P.O. Box, so Donovan has no idea that Kate knows how to find him. This should scare the crap out of him!

A frat-boy jock responds to my pounding on the door while Donovan lay on the sofa long past the danger zone but still on the recovery end of dealing with his fractured ribs. Storming past the oversized jock, I grab Donovan's collar and yank.

“Lily!” The freaked out expression on his face is priceless. You could stick a football in that mouth.

“Shut up and come with me, or I'm going to create a scene that will really make you sick.”

His eyes widen as his legs obediently follow. He respects my demand that he get into the car while fearing to say a word. When we reach a forgotten park I storm out of the car, not wanting to be locked up with him. We trek through the snow as my breathing turns to huffs, and I fly into an unwavering rage.

“Talk!” I scream, pushing him onto a bench. “Talk to me before I break the rest of your ribs! Tell me why I lost my best friend, and why you twice led me on only to dump me! You were at the restaurant being all sweet and charming and talking about doing things the right way. Then you turned on me!”

“We almost got caught!”

“We weren't doing anything nor were we going to there! Do you think I'm stupid? Why do you keep starting and stopping? You do know you're toying with me, right?”

My hands fly up in disgust. “Of course you know. I'm so stupid! This is what you did to Cheryl. You take girls who have feelings for you and play insensitive little games and make them all crazy. Is this how you get your kicks? Do you think it's easy dealing with my emotions? I'm just as confused and concerned as you are. Maybe even more so because your lack of acceptance forced me to go on with my life, and I found someone wonderful that I've now lost. So first I lost you, and then I lost him, now I've lost you again. Why do you turn on me like this? You used to be the greatest guy in the world. You always treated girls with respect. Everyone admired you for that! What the hell happened to you?”

“I can’t tell you,” he says so quietly his words are almost inaudible. He’s a shrunken man sitting with his head down in shame, knowing I'm completely right.

“Bullshit! You can but you won’t!” Reaching out he touches my arm in an invitation to sit next to him. “Don’t you dare touch me! Never touch me again unless you plan to really follow through, and right now I can't promise I won’t rip your arm off. Now—talk without touching me!”

“You're right. This is totally unfair. I didn't mean to hurt you. Both times I had very good intentions. Both times it took a lot to get the courage to approach you that way, but for God’s sake, people say what you and I feel is wrong.”

The tighter my fists clench in anger, the greater the volume of my voice flourishes. “People? It's
our
relationship. Don’t you think that's something
you and I
should talk about? Tell me exactly how
you
feel and if
you
think it’s wrong. You're entitled to your opinion. But to dismiss us without talking to me is callus. At least tell me what you're feeling. What? Can't? Why not? Afraid it will become real? Afraid you won’t be able to walk away from the truth? If it's so wrong then walking away should be easy. Besides, you've never told me how you feel so when it comes right down to it,
I don’t know what the hell you're thinking!
And what the crap is the deal with Alex and Kate?”

“Alex and Kate can have the relationship we never can.”

“Ugh! That's a huge crock of crap! How can two non-existent people have a real relationship? Can you put your arms around a fictional character? I sure can’t, and if you think you can, then you need professional help! Seriously, if you don’t like who you are, then turn yourself into who you want to be and stop hurting people!”

“It's not that easy. I'm not like Christopher. I can’t just flutter through life being comfortable in my awkwardness.”

Now he's really crossed the line! Lunging forward I scream in his face. The treble makes him wince. “Never,
ever
say his name again! I had to hide the truth about your little spy because I didn’t want him to think I was related to a
crazy person!
Besides, he's out of my life, and I don’t want to talk about him anymore.” My last words cause me to choke and turn away, not wanting Christopher to enter into this. This needs to be about Donovan and me.

“Lily, I’m so—”

My body spins to face him. “Do
not
say that you're sorry! Do
not
try to comfort me! Your days of doing that are over. The only thing you should do is tell me the truth, but you won’t do that. Until you do,
you can go to hell!”

Our rollercoaster ride is over, and his shadowed eyes show he knows it. Driving off in a fury Donovan is left to wallow in the snow. The moment gives me both the exhalation of liberation and the cutting pain of profound despair.

Thirty minutes after abandoning Donovan I'm completely lost, disoriented, and suffering from food depravation as my Bug zooms down the highway. The next road sign reads New Britain. It’s not only far from amusing, but I'm totally going the wrong way. Maybe the universe is telling me to drive straight into the Atlantic and head for England.

My grumbling stomach propels me to continue forward in search of food and directions, but all the up-coming towns have British names. After the showdown with Donovan, the last desirable thing is to pine over Christopher.

Since turning around means passing the exit for Donovan’s dorm, I'll have to resist returning to where I left him and running him over. I'd better eat—fast.

With my blood sugar crashing, sucking it up by going to the nearest drive thru in East Berlin and attempting to find something resembling food seems my only option. The cashier looks at me in horror, which morphs into sympathy as she hands me damp napkins. Crap! The yanked rearview mirror reflects my entire face streaked and smudged from mascara running as a result of crying. The pedal has now reached the floorboard while pushing the speedometer of my limits!

Entering the nearest shopping mall my feet storm to the makeup counter. Whipping out the credit card Dad gave me for emergencies I smack it down dramatically, flail my arms, and bark, “Fix me! Don’t make me look like a tramp. But fix me!”