Chapter 202
“Where do you want to drive to?” His voice is softer, with being so close and his gaze is intent on my mouth. I can tell how much he wants to kiss me, and it only makes the fear inside me lift higher. That kiss invites her into my head, all the pain of what he did and I’m not ready to deal with that right now. I turn away, so I’m not tempted and push my empty plate aside. I look out across the open-plan room and sigh knowing that he’s reading every signal I’m giving off with apprehension, probably overanalyzing every one. Being so near him has my head in chaos about what I want from him, blurring the lines of how much touching I can bear to allow.
“I don’t know … just anywhere, somewhere pretty. Somewhere that’s not here.” I shrug. I don’t know why I want him to drive me anywhere, maybe the motion of the car, and Jake being the one in control somehow makes it feel better. It means I can take a time out from life while he focuses on the road and maybe we can just listen to music and not talk.
I don’t want to talk. I’m scared that if I start talking
about everything, about her and the baby, if she still
means anything to him and our life, then it will all come crashing painfully in on me like a fragile tower of cards. Today I want quiet and calm and to be with him. The past few days have taken a toll and this little respite is like a breath of warm air in the frost. I want a time out and nowhere in the rules of whatever this is does it say that I can’t have that.
“Okay … Your wish is my command beautiful. Do you need me to take you to Queens for clothes first?” His fake jovial tone makes me falter and I hate that it’s not genuine; that we’re hurting each other this way. I inhale, heavily, trying to get at least one breath that doesn’t come laced with pain.
“Later. I’ll just keep on the clothes you brought me yesterday seeing as all I’ve done is sleep.” I can’t explain the weird way I feel, but all I want right now is to get out, go somewhere where no one knows us, where I don’t need to explain anything to anyone. Sarah would ask questions, but I need reflection and silence and maybe him.
Okay, definitely him.
I’m still tired and despite eating I’m a little lightheaded. All the recent emotional turmoil, lack of food and sleep has taken its toll on me and now it’s playing catch up.
“Can we go now?” the apartment closing in on me and restlessness is kicking in. If I keep sitting here, near him, like this, I’ll want to kiss him, and kissing would lead to touching. Then I’d want him all over me, inside of me and I’m not ready to take that step just yet. I don’t know if I ever will be, it’s too confusing with him being close enough to inhale.
“Sure, go get ready. Which car do you want to take?” He slides his mug beside his empty plate, and I sigh, pushing myself up from the bar stool.
“The Bat-mobile.” I smile shyly at him, knowing a ride in his pride and joy will make him happy and right now I want to hear it genuinely in his voice, and not just play pretend.
“Lucky for you I keep it downstairs.” He grins merrily at the mention of his toy and slides out of his own chair; stooping down to kiss me behind the ear, thoughtlessly, before picking up his phone and walking toward the bedroom. I falter at his touch but take a deep steadying breath.
Make a choice; either he’s allowed to touch you and throw affection your way or he’s not. You’re only confusing him and yourself by not deciding whether he can or not.
I swallow down the ball of emotion rising in my throat and head toward the bedroom to get dressed.
I just don’t know okay!
* * *
Less than half an hour later we’re heading out of the city onto calmer scenery. Jake suggested driving to Long Island, over an hour away, and maybe stopping somewhere to
walk and take in the beautiful surroundings. He’s packed a couple of warm jackets, and a hat for me, and looked up some quiet spots for lunch for when we get there. He’s being romantic and thoughtful Jake, trying to show me how much I mean to him.
The car is stiflingly hot, even though the weather is mild, and his air con is blowing gently, and a slow heat is creeping up my spine. I wonder if maybe the way I’ve been feeling is a sign I’m getting sick.
Yes, that’s really what I need right now on top of everything else.
I’m exhausted, even though I slept a lot last night, this fatigue can’t be from the emotional insomnia I’ve suffered from for the past week. Right now, here with Jake, listening to quiet country music as we pass through the city, I feel anything but emotional, yet my body is completely out of whack. I’m tired and sensitive. The nausea from my hangover lingering, despite sleeping for almost an entire day and night so I crack the window a little for air.
“You okay, bambino?” Jake’s voice cuts through my inner dialog and I glance at him, quietly. “You look a little pale suddenly.” He lifts his fingers to my cheek, and frowns. “You feel warm too.” He looks around, veering the car into a side street and pulls over before he leans across further to feel my face properly. The touch of his hands on my skin sends out another brain filled bout of arguing voices that I’ve zero energy to contend with.
Fine, he can touch me … End of!
“I think I’m getting sick. I’ve definitely been feeling off color lately.” I admit, resting my forehead against his
palm instinctively. The inner voices seem to have
shut up now that I’ve given consent for him to touch me.
“I don’t think a trip to Long Island is the answer, Emma. I’m taking you home and you’re going to bed.” He has the serious don’t argue commanding tone in his voice that for once I’ve no desire to argue against. My bile has risen, slowly, since getting into the car and right now I have an overwhelming urge to gag.
“I’m not that sick, Jake, it’s just remnants of my hangover and this past week.” I try for a smile but without warning the nausea rises out of me and I jack the car door open just in time to get my head out before I throw up.
“Jesus. Emma!” Jake lets go of me and within seconds appears at the outside of the car pulling me away from the contents of my stomach, to a nearby step and sitting me down. I rest my head between my knees before turning away in panic as I throw up again into nearby bushes; retching in pain as I lose the only things I’ve eaten over the past two days. This time Jake holds back my hair and balances my shoulder keeping me steady.
“Can you sit up?” He pulls me back against him and doesn’t let go until I nod. “I have water in the car.” He jumps up, dashing to the open doors of the car and back again in a flash. He takes up his position behind me, bringing the bottle to my hands and I lean against him sipping the burning taste of vomit away from my mouth. My head is swimming as the nausea subsides and suddenly, I feel weak and tired.
“I’ve never seen you ill … You’re worrying me, miele. I think we need to get you home and looked at.” He sounds concerned, with a hint of panic to his voice. He holds me to him, with his palm on my forehead, giving me more reasons for taking a chance on him and getting this, between us, to work. He’s taking care of me, just like he always does.
I love you so much.
“It’s just a bug, or something I’ve eaten. I’ll be okay. I’m starting to feel a little better now.” I try for a convincing smile, tilting my face toward him, but his face only hardens some more. I feel fragile and my voice is exposing my little white lie. He doesn’t like what he sees, and I know it’s futile to hide this from him.
“You’re so white and you’re trembling. We’re going home.” He scoops me up onto his lap, closing his legs beneath me, holding me close. “If it’s nothing then it won’t do any harm having a doctor look at you, will it?” He rests my head against his neck holding me in.
“If it makes you happier but I can promise you, this is nothing.” I’m too tired to argue with him and too faint to care. I’m not even protesting when he lifts me up and carries me to the car, sliding me in to avoid the puddle I left beside the door. He clips my belt over me and closes the door down before getting into the other side and starting up.
“Home and bed,” he commands, reversing out, resting a hand on my cheek one more time, testing my temperature to see if I’m hot. I lay my head into him for a moment before pulling away as the emotional confusion hits home again.
Maybe touching isn’t such a good idea.
“Yes, sir,” I say, closing my eyes and resting my head back against the seat. If I block out the motion and try to relax, I’m sure I can keep the nausea at bay until we’re back at the apartment. It isn’t that far.
