Love, Artifacts, and You by Sarah Ready

12

Emma

I holdthe velvet jewelry box out to Justin. Inside is the heirloom engagement ring he proposed with only a few days ago. “Thank you for being my friend. But I can’t accept.”

He stands casually, his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t reach out to take it. The cabin is cleaner than the last time he was here, and homier. He looks around the small room, then at the bed in the corner with the sheets tucked in and unrumpled.

“Has he asked you to marry him?” he asks. He doesn’t look at me when he says it. Instead he walks over to the shelf full of travel knickknacks and runs a finger over a plate from Niagara Falls.

“No. But that doesn’t have anything to do with this. We both know I wasn’t going to accept. That’s independent of Andrew’s arrival. I’m sorry, Justin.”

He turns and gives me his full-charm grin. “Em, you should try to preserve some of my male pride. Tell me it was a terribly hard decision. You lost many sleepless nights over it. Even now, you struggle with the decision between me, the off-the-charts attractive, good-humored friend and the broody, dark, scarred former flame. Personally, I’d choose the friend.” He says this in a way to let me know he’s joking

I give a small laugh, but inside I hurt, because I know that our relationship is never going to be the same. We aren’t going to be able to have that easy friendship anymore.

“Thank you for understanding,” I say.

He shrugs. “I wouldn’t be a good friend if I got angry that you rejected my proposal. It wasn’t the most romantic thing I’ve ever done. I just figured friendship was a good basis for marriage. Don’t worry about me, Em. I’m fine.”

He finally steps close and takes the jewelry box from my hand. He slides it in his pocket. Something shifts in his eyes, behind the humor and the charm. It looks like a hint of sadness, or an acknowledgement of loneliness. Then he shakes it off and the charm is back.

“You can stay here as long as you like.” He gestures to the cabin. “Until you know your plans.” He says plans with a special emphasis. And I remember his line of attack at dinner.

“He’s been back a day,” I say.

Justin shrugs. “Exactly. As a lawyer I’m going to tell you, he’s hiding something. I’ve seen people on the stand with less guarded behavior.”

“I know.”

Justin gives me an incredulous look.

“I’m not blind. It just doesn’t matter to me. When he’s ready he’ll tell me what he needs to. He’s not a clam that I have to pry open. He’ll open up when he’s ready.”

“Or not.”

I nod. “Or not. And that’s okay too.”

I don’t need to make Andrew relive what happened to him with me. Why would I want to force him to share his trauma? Continually scratching at a wound doesn’t make it better. It just causes it to become inflamed. Likewise you can’t bury it. No, it’s better to just let it go. Whatever way works for him to let it go is okay with me.

Justin sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “Alright. Do you want me to drive you back? Also, please note how much of a good sport I am. Delivering you to the other man. This deserves at least a wine basket at Christmas.”

I laugh. But I have to say, “He’s not the other man. You and I were never a couple.”

“Still. I like the wine baskets with cheese and crackers.”

When I get backto town, Andrew’s rental house is dark except for a single light in the upstairs bedroom. The front door is unlocked. I close it quietly, lock it and slip off my shoes. The rooms are lit only by moonlight, and a soft glow falls over the antique furniture. I climb up the stairs. They’re graceful and sweeping and the varnished wood boards creak under my feet. When I reach the upstairs hall, a small beam of light spills onto the hall floor from the master bedroom.

A warm glow of happiness settles over me and all the worries from earlier fall away. I come to the bedroom and pause at the door.

Andrew is sitting cross-legged on the bed. He’s changed into jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt but his feet are bare. I smile because even his feet are tanned, like he’s spent long hours barefoot on a beach somewhere. His laptop is in front of him on the bed. He has a line of concentration between his eyebrows and his hair is mussed. The stubble on his face is dark and thicker, and I remember how it felt earlier when he ran it over my breasts.

I must make some noise because Andrew looks up.

When he sees me, his eyes widen in surprise.

Huh. It looks like he didn’t think I’d be coming back tonight. Silly man.

“Hey.” I casually walk into the bedroom.

He watches me with hungry eyes. “Hey.”

I step next to the bed then pull my shirt over my head. His eyes grow dark and fathomless. I drop my shirt then pull my jeans down over my hips. Andrew visibly swallows. His eyes are glued to my breasts.

“You’re here.” His voice is raspy.

“Mhmm.” I climb into the bed next to him. “What’re you doing?”

He shakes his head to clear his mind, then tears his eyes from my chest back to his computer. “I was looking at a topographical map of the radius around the settlement, pinpointing likely points for Sol’s Cavern.”

I look at the screen. There are half a dozen red circles on the map at cavern locations.

Andrew watches me. He’s wound as tight as a wire. I keep my eyes on the map. “I gave Justin his engagement ring back. He left for NYC.”

I hear Andrew audibly swallow. When I look over at him his eyes are closed and he’s letting out a grateful breath. His shoulders visibly relax.

I turn back to the screen before Andrew opens his eyes.

I point to the map. “I think we should start here tomorrow. Work our way out in a concentric circle.” I point to the dots as they extend out from the central radius.

“Agreed,” he says, his voice raw. Then he carefully takes his laptop, closes it and sets it on the nightstand.

When he turns to me, his eyes are full of hungry fire. The way he touches me, gentle and slow, is at odds with the heat in his eyes. He pulls free my panties and bra and kisses me until I’m burning as hot as he is. When I open his pants and set him free, he pushes me down and enters me in one fast stroke.

“Emma. My Emma.” He takes my mouth and thrusts his tongue in time to him entering me. I want to tell him that I’ll never leave him, that I’ll stay with him forever, that he doesn’t have to worry or be afraid of what I’ll think or say, that whatever happened in the past is okay. I want to tell him all of this, but I’m caught up in the feel of him inside me, his mouth over mine, and all the words are lost. So instead, I show him and I use the only words I have left.

“I love you,” I say. “I love you.”

He thrusts harder and faster, tilts up my hips until I’m coming around him.

Then, when I’m finished, he pulls my naked body close. Wraps his arms around me. The warmth of his still-clothed body and the blankets covering me lull me to sleep in the bright light of the room.