Tied

13. Love The One You're With

As Emily sat on the couch, glass of pinot in hand, warming her feet by the crackling flames of the fire, she heard a key turning in the door. She turned around, balancing on her knees and leaning with her elbows on the back of the couch. Daniel's slumped over form ambled in through the doorway. He looked up at her, and smiled half-heartedly. "Should I take it as a good sign that you haven't changed the locks on me?" Emily forced a slight chuckle, and beckoned to the empty space on the couch next to her, inviting him to join her. He walked over and settled next to her. "Can't sleep?" he asked. "Well, I couldn't, up until today. Now that I know Bella is going to be okay, though, I'll be fine." Emily smiled as she nursed her glass, staring into the fire, without any obvious purpose. Daniel couldn't stop staring at her. This woman who had, for over ten years, excited, intrigued, and beguiled him all at once.

He shifted a hair closer to her, until his leg was right up against hers from the ankle to the knee. She didn't pull away, but instead turned her eyes to gaze into his, searching his sole. Nothing could've distracted either one from the other. Daniel began to lean in for a kiss but hesitated, before Emily put her hands on his cheeks, and kissed him, moving her hands towards his hair, and grabbing a fistful of it. He broke from her lips, and began to kiss her neck, as she looked up to the ceiling above her. "This can't happen," she insisted "we're supposed to be separated. You moved out for God's sake!" Daniel arose from her neck, looked into her eyes, and replied "And you didn't change the locks." "I didn't change the locks."

In Daniel's mind, this was a new beginning for them as a couple, a chance at redemption. It was, for him at least, the single greatest thing that could've happened. He had been given the opportunity to redeem himself in Emily's eyes. It had been so long; so long since they'd been together, so long, even, since they'd shared a bedroom.

Daniel stood, before Emily did the same, arms linked limply around his muscular neck, kissing him. All of a sudden, she jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist, as he walked to the bedroom, still both in the throws of passion.

Flashback;

In retrospect, it hadn't been a bad life, so far, at least. She was with a man who loved her, and who she'd grown rather fond of over the years, despite his numerous shortcomigs. She had a baby, and she was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen; with long wispy hair, dark like Daniel's.

She spent her days, blissfully unaware of her past, not wanting to relive memories; unshackling herself from her ghosts. Until the night came, and all she dreamt of was her father. So she buried her head in other things; eager to escape the mental torture, which she'd inflicted on herself, without meaning to. She joined the boards of charity after charity, hosting balls and lunches and art auctions, all in some feeble effort to rid her mind of the demons which plagued her.

She'd lie in bed, her eyes never for a moment leaving the ceiling, thinking about, pondering the many lives she could've led.

She regretted not becoming a singer, the kind that sold out concerts in seconds, and was greeted on stage by thousands of roaring fans.

She regretted not pursuing a career in art, painting all day, looking at the world from different perspectives, and gazing at collections of her own work in prestigious galleries.

She regretted never speaking her mind to the people she cared about, or at least not as often as she'd have liked, leaving things unsaid, after all, is not only unintelligent, but also shortsighted.

However, the thing she regretted most, as she lay there in bed, was her father. Look at what she'd done; gone against his direct instruction to forgive, and never even gone through with her decision? In all her years, there was one thing she was certain she was not; and that was fickle.

Present;

So as Emily Grayson lay on the bed, her sleeping husband draped over her, exhausted once more, she began again to think, and sure enough, her mind found its way to memories of her father; that rocked her to sleep.

© Sarah Egan 2014. All rights reserved. This story is subject to copyright and may not be copied or reproduced without the express permission of the author.