Working Girl (34 page)

I don’t want to go there. “Emerson—”

“Let me finish,” he cuts in. “Everything that went down was just a series of unfortunate events. You were just a girl, working. What happened in the past deserves to stay there. It doesn’t need to cause any more discontent. So today, we jump.”

With my heart full of love, I ask the only thing that seems appropriate. “So, where are we jumping?”

“Into the future.”

Once the words leave his mouth he takes two steps toward the edge and launches himself outward. I watch in shock as he falls quickly, his hands flapping at his side as he free falls. The splash echoes in my ears and I hold my breath, waiting for him to surface. He comes up for air, hooting and hollering. “C’mon, Presley!” he calls out to me. “Come on down, the water is full of hopes and dreams.”

I smile as I position myself closer to the edge. I’m scared shitless but I know taking the leap will be worth it. Drawing in one final deep breath, I throw myself forward, and the instant my feet leave that rock, my stomach drops out and my heart races.

Emerson was right.

Free falling is one of the best feelings I’ve ever experienced; second only to being in love with him. Cutting through the air feels like the longest few moments of my life but once I hit the cool water, I’m hit with invigoration. I kick my feet, propelling me toward the surface, where I know the love of my life awaits. As soon as my head breaches the surface I gasp for air, panting slightly. With a smile still on my face I turn around and look at Emerson, who is looking at me, grinning from ear to ear. “That was amazing,” I say between breaths.

He swims to me, wrapping his arms around my naked waist. His skin against mine warms me underneath the cool water. “So was it worth it?” The tone of his voice lets me know that there’s more meaning to this question than meets the eye. That’s always the way with Emerson; everything has meaning. There is a purpose to every utterance he speaks.

“Was what worth it?” I ask. For this one time, I want him to say what he really wants to say. No more beating around the bush—it’s time for him to start laying it all on the line.

“All of it,” he whispers into my ear.

The heat spreads through my body, awakening every nerve ending. My chest heaving in and out of the water as I struggle to catch my breath from the jump, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer than imaginable. Our bodies tangle under the water and my heart starts thundering to its own beat. I speak to him in a hushed voice. “As long as I’m here with you, yes, it was. Every single second, of every single day, was worth it.”

EMERSON AND I ARE LAUGHING
as we enter his house; the home he once shared with the man whom I hated more than anything. I almost forget about it until we enter the foyer and our voices echo. The reverberations bring me out of my love-induced stupor and my head snaps. But then I remember what Emerson said just hours ago: what happened in the past
does
deserve to stay there. Big Earl doesn’t deserve to be here, in these precious moments between Emerson and I.

These moments are about us, and only us.

With a newfound confidence, I stroll over to Emerson and place my hands on the sides of his face, pulling him towards me. “I love you,” I say loudly. “Now kiss me.”

He doesn’t hesitate and his lips quickly cover mine. We stay that way for a few moments before I hear a throat clear from the top of the stairs. Breaking the seal of our mouths, I look up to find Emerson’s mother gazing down at us. She looks happy, but I still feel that little devilish guilt creeping in. Her whole world has been turned upside down because of me.

“Did you two have a good day?” she asks as she starts to make her way down the stairs.

“We sure did,” Emerson says proudly, his arm still wrapped around my neck.

“Can I count on you two for dinner?”

Emerson doesn’t even hesitate. He drops his arm and goes to his mother, enveloping her in one of his amazing hugs. “Of course you can.”

She smiles and looks at me. “Emerson, would you mind terribly if I had a chance to talk to Presley a little on my own?”

Again, despite all my attempts to control my feelings, the anxiety starts to spread throughout my body. I immediately fear the worst and panic that this is the part where she tells me to leave her son alone; that I’m toxic and will kill him. The part where she blames me for everything. All the things that I say to myself everyday are finally going to come to fruition and someone else is going to say them. I pray that Emerson will say no. That he’ll want to continue to spend the day with me.

“Of course I don’t mind, Mom.” He speaks so nonchalantly as he breaks his embrace with his mother and walks towards me, placing a quick kiss on my forehead before he excuses himself to head upstairs and get changed, leaving me alone with a woman who totally scares the shit out of me.

We stand in the foyer for a few more tense moments before she sticks her hand out. “Come with me, Presley.”

I slide my hand into hers and she leads me into a room I’ve never seen before. It’s formal looking, the furniture nicer than anything I’ve ever seen before. I’m afraid to sit on it, it’s that pretty. But once she sits down I decide I should do the same. It would be too weird if I continue to stand over her.

We’re sitting on the couch together, our knees practically touching, when she finally starts to talk. “I always wanted a daughter.” She pauses, swallowing hard, her eyes glued to the floor. “His reasons made sense to me at the time, but now I know that they were a big sham. I mean, he was obviously a great liar. He didn’t want more kids because he was a heartless man.”

“Mrs. Williams, you don’t have to do this.”

She holds her hand up, indicating for me to stop. “Yes, Presley, I do, because not only do I feel like I owe you something, I
know
I do.” A single tear slides down her cheek. “I want you to know that I had no idea. I thought he owned his own practice. I’d even been to an office. I’d seen his license. His diploma hung on the wall. He even had a secretary . . .” The tears are falling faster now.

“Mrs. Williams—”

She ignores my pleading. “If I had only known . . . maybe I could have done something to help. Maybe I could have gotten all the girls the assistance they needed to get on their feet.” Her words come faster as she continues to plead with her guilty conscious. Listening to her, I feel empathetic. Because both of us are stricken with guilt in our own way.

I place my hand on her knee and it seems to snap her out of her trance. “Mrs. Williams, with all due respect, we could sit here all day and talk about the what if’s. But none of that really matters anymore now, does it?”

Wiping the tears from her eyes, she shakes her head. “I guess not.”

“No, it doesn’t. But I’ll tell you what does matter. Right now. Me, and you, and Emerson.” I smile. “You know, a wise man once told me that you can’t keep living in the past. He said something like, ‘leave the past where it belongs.’ And you know what—he was right. If we keep living in the past, trying to think of all the things we could have done differently, we’re going to miss all the good things that are right in front of us. Besides, why would we want to change anything? Everything that has happened has led us here.”

“Sounds like a smart man.”

“He is.”

“Who is he?”

“Your son.”

I watch her face as it transforms from sadness to absolute, unadulterated joy.

“You’ve raised quite a man, Mrs. Williams. You should be proud.”

She nods. “I am.”

I slowly stand on my feet and start walking back to the stairs. I want to go to Emerson and tell him that today is a special day; because today is the day that we are all moving forward.

“Presley,” Mrs. Williams says quietly, causing me to stop in my tracks. “I just want you to know, that even though all of this happened I’m still glad that he found you. Thank you.”

I ponder this for a moment, her words quickly sinking into my soul. How could this woman be so selfless, to be thankful that I’d brought so much hurt and heartache into their lives? “I should be the one thanking you.”

She shakes her head, standing up and making her way over to a box placed on the fireplace mantel. Opening the box, she pulls a piece of paper out and unfolds it. Her eyes fall as she reads the words before handing me over the paper.

“What is this?” I ask, beyond confused.

“I found it in Emerson’s room this past fall. I think you should read it.”

The tone of her voice is serious and urgent, so I do as she asks. My eyes look over the page at his familiar handwriting, scrawled along the white lined paper with tattered edges. It was the missing page from his journal, the one that preceded his poem about darkness. The words jump off the page and slam into my heart.

Today, I saw the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I don’t believe in angels but I can honestly say that she might be one. She was frazzled, annoyed, and even a little rude, but there was something about that face that spoke to me. Something that seemed sad.

Seeing her came just when I needed it, because I was just about to say fuck it. Every day was the same. I was growing tired of putting on the front. Forcing myself to be overly happy day after day was exhausting. Nothing was moving forward, and I was always hurting and thinking about Sebastian. Life may not be fair, but seeing her put things into perspective for me. Pain isn’t always equal. Everyone hurts the same, no matter how big or small their problems may be. Something about her tells me she’s hurting. And even if it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to take the hurt away for her.

Who knows, maybe she’ll save me in the process.

I look back up at Mrs. Williams, my eyes full of tears, remaining silent because I’m unable to find the right words. All along I thought Emerson was saving me, but we’d saved each other: just like Emerson had predicted not so long ago.

“What are you two doing in here?” His voice brings me back to the moment.

Looking over my shoulder, I see him leaning against the door casing, a serious look on his face. “Emerson,” I say, barely above a whisper. My emotions are running away with me and I can’t find the words I so desperately want to say. So in place of words, I hold up the piece of paper like a surrender flag.

Realization spreads across his face and with just a few strides he’s wrapping his arms around me. “I forgot about that damn note.” He squeezes me tighter. “So, do you believe me now?” he asks, his lips pressed to my forehead.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“Believe in us.”

“I already do.”

Hearing my words, he backs away from me and grabs the paper from my hands, crumpling it up. Without thinking, I reach across the space between us and place my hands over his. “What are you doing?” I ask foolishly. It’s obvious to me what he’s doing, but I want to understand; to know why. Curious, my head tilts to the side.

“Putting the past where it belongs.” He pulls his hands from mine and tosses the paper over his shoulder. “Behind us.”

Emerson stands in front of me, forcing a smile, and while I appreciate his gesture, it’s not right. I step around him, kneeling on the ground and scooping up the wrinkled lined paper. Standing back up, I unfold it from itself and hand it back to him.

“This isn’t just the past, Emerson. It was the beginning of us.”

Three years later…