Fairytale Lost (6 page)

T
he night was
long and pleasurable. Lukas finally peeled himself away from his sweet Emmy and out of her bed around dawn. She didn’t stir. He kissed her nose and left before any regrets or harsh words could pass between them.

But no matter how relaxed and at peace he was with what had happened between them, Lukas couldn’t help but dread the coming conversation with his father about his overnight absence. He’d never been able to lie to his father, no matter how big or small the lie. Somehow his father always knew when he was being untruthful, and he was very sure a fight was about to ensue.

Pulling up to the house, Lukas took a deep breath and steeled himself for battle. It hit him as soon as he walked in the front door.

“Where the hell have you been? I called your cell phone so many times and left so many messages. How could you let me worry about you like this? So childish and irresponsible! Well, what have you got to say for yourself?” Pop was pacing furiously in the house’s small foyer.

“If I could get a word in edgewise, I’d tell you what happened, but I’d really like a cup of coffee before we start today’s inquisition.” Lukas brushed past his father and headed toward the kitchen.

“Were you with Emmalyn? You were, weren’t you?” He followed Lukas down the hall, close on his heels.

“Pop, can we please not do this? I’m a grown man. Where I was and what I was doing are none of your business. So let’s skip this.”

“And your fiancee? What do you think she will think about you spending the night with some snotty bitch you used to hook up with five years ago?”

“Are you threatening me old man?” Lukas asked menacingly. He didn’t believe for a moment his father was going to call Sunny, but making threats to produce guilt—yes, that was his speciality.

“Tell me where you were,” Pop demanded.

Lukas sighed and gave his father what he’d wanted. “Fine. I was with Emmalyn. I went to talk to her, and things went too far. I can’t say I’m sorry it happened though.”

“I didn’t raise you to be a liar and cheater,” Pop growled.

“This is no big deal, pop. It’s out of my system and I’ll get over her. I’ve done it before.”

“So, she’s turned her back on you again, huh? I told you she was nothing but trouble for you. I don’t know why you get drawn to that tramp. Over and over she proves to be too high and mighty for you, but you can’t seem to help yourself.” Pop couldn’t seem to stop himself from fussing at his oldest son. But he had to make the boy understand that women like Emmalyn Chase weren’t for him.

“You want to know why I keep getting drawn back to her? Because I love her! I have loved her from the moment I first saw her, and I will love her until I die.”

“So where does that leave me?” came a soft, feminine voice from the direction of the stairwell.

Lukas instantly recognized the voice, and his head dropped to the table. He struggled between going to comfort Sunny and murdering his father in his own kitchen.

“You are a meddlesome old man who will die alone,” Lukas growled at his father as he walked over to Sunny.

“It leaves you the same as ever,” he said to her softly and, he hoped, reassuringly, “the woman I’m planning to marry in three months. I hope one mistake doesn’t change that. It doesn’t for me, at least.”

Sunny looked at Lukas, then at Pop. Tears welling in her eyes, head shaking in disbelief, she turned and ran back upstairs without saying a word in response.

“How you gonna marry that girl and be vowing to love someone else until you die?” Lukas’s father asked with a skeptical laugh.

“I swear to God, old man, stay out of this. This is all your fault! I lost Emmy because of you, and if I lose Sunny, it will be your fault as well.” He racked his brain for something to say to Sunny that would fix this mess. “When did you call her?” Lukas demanded.

“Two days ago,” he replied proudly. “You needed to see what you’re doing, acting as you have been. Sunny is a good woman, and she is perfect for you. Emmalyn and you don’t belong together. You never did,” Pop asserted self-righteously.

“How the hell would you know that?” Lukas yelled at his father. “ You’ve barely said ten words to her. And how do you know about Sunny? You’ve never met her before today.”

Pop gasped. “I could tell over the phone that she was better for you than that Emmalyn.”

Lukas angrily shook his head. “This is ridiculous. I’m not having this conversation with you. I need to talk to Sunny.”

Lukas stood up and headed for the stairs. He stopped abruptly when he realized his father was following closely behind him. He turned on the man angrily. “Where in the hell do you think you’re going?”

“To make sure you don’t ruin things with that girl!” Pop knew in his rickety bones that Lukas needed to make things right with Sunny to be happy.

“Oh my God! Stay here.” Lukas ran up the stairs and walked into the only room with a closed door on the second floor of his childhood home. “Grab a sweater. We’re going out,” Lukas said to Sunny.

“What? Lukas, we need to talk, I think.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” He reached into her bag and grabbed the first thing that looked like a sweater and tossed it to her. He then grabbed her purse and pulled her off the bed and through the door. “We can talk someplace where we can be alone.”

They stumbled down the stairs toward the front door. “Lukas, are you sure about this?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” Lukas stopped at the door and turned to his father. “Stay out of this, and stay out of my way. I will never forgive you for this if I live to be a hundred.”

“I’m only trying to keep you from making a huge mistake.” His answer was made to the slamming door.

T
he tension
in the car was thick as Lukas and Sunny drove away from his father’s house. It was clear that he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to start. He opened and closed his mouth five times before Sunny, unable to wait any longer, spoke first.

“Lukas. You have to say something, please,” she exclaimed.

“I still want to marry you,” he announced, certain he was making the wrong decision but equally certain there was no other choice for him.

“That may not be possible.” She paused, her face thoughtful. “Tell me about her. Did you sleep with her? And why have you never mentioned her before?” Sunny was honestly confused that Lukas had never before mentioned someone who was still so clearly important to him.

“What else don’t I know about him?” she thought to herself.

“I never mentioned her because it’s always too hard to talk about Emmalyn. I fell in love with her long ago. She was a student back when I worked in the computer lab at the university. It was instant and deep.”

“So what happened? Why aren’t you two together then? Why aren’t you with her now,” Sunny asked, though she was afraid that no matter what the answer, it would mean the end of their relationship.

“I always put everyone and everything ahead of her. And when she really needed me, I wasn’t there, so she broke things off with me. I hadn’t seen or spoken to her in over five years, until I ran into her here,” Lukas confessed sadly.

“And how could you sleep with her and then tell me you still want to marry me? I heard your grand declaration of love for her Lukas, and I can tell you, you have never said anything like that about me or to me. I don’t think you feel anything for me like what you claim you felt and, clearly, still feel about her. Why should we move forward with anything when you, evidently, would rather be with her?” Sunny had begun to cry again. Lukas felt lower than ever.

“The plain truth is that I don’t have a future with Emmalyn. I have one with you. No matter what I feel for her, she and I are done. Last night was a purging of a kind. She and I agreed to one night, with no further conversation, no talk of the future, just a way to get each other out of our systems.”

Lukas parked the car near the riverwalk. He and Sunny sat and watched the water for a while before anyone could speak.

“Is she? Is she out of your system? Do you love me the way you love Emmalyn?”

“She’s over for me. I can’t speak for her, but I… I know the end when I see it and I really wish I hadn’t run into her. She was better off in my past. I promise you that.” Lukas hoped he sounded sincere, because even as the words were coming out of his mouth, he knew he was lying. “I will completely understand if you want to end our relationship because of what I did. It’s no more than what I deserve for betraying your trust like that.

“To be honest, I don’t know if I can live with what you did, but I’m not ready to call it quits just yet. I don’t know anything right now except that I want to go back to San Diego and try again.”

“That’s good enough for me. Let’s go get our stuff and head home.” Lukas relaxed a bit. He accepted that this was the best option for everyone, but he couldn’t deny the throbbing pain growing in his chest.

He started the car. She placed her hand on his when he moved to shift the car into gear. “Morning will be soon enough. I really want you and your father to clear the air. He really did think he was helping.”

Lukas laughed without a hint of mirth. “Let’s just agree to disagree there. But you are right. I need to run through I few things with my Pops before I have to kill him.”

S
unny walked
into the house and immediately ran upstairs without saying anything to Lukas’s father. Lukas followed her in and closed the door behind him. He took a deep breath before walking down the hallway leading into the kitchen. Lukas found his father sitting at the small kitchenette table that has been in the bay window of their kitchen for more than twenty years. He looked small and tired, holding the same navy blue coffee cup he’d used religiously for years.

“Why would you bring Sunny here? What could you have possibly been thinking?” Lukas asked the only question that still remained on his mind. He sat heavily in the seat across from his father. He honestly wasn’t sure if he would be able to forgive him for what he saw as a betrayal, but he felt he should at least give him a chance to explain himself.

“I won’t let you ruin your life with Emmalyn the way I ruined my life with your mother,” was all Pop said as he stood and walked out the room.

Lukas watched him go. He thought about following him and asking him to explain what he meant by that. Lukas was very well aware that his parents’ marriage was a complete and total disaster. He also knew that his father was left a broken man because of how it ended. His mother’s suicide nearly killed his father, but he was able to hold on because Lukas and his younger brother needed him. And now Lukas felt beholden to his father because his father needed him. He knew the guilt he carried over his mother’s death wasn’t real. He was a toddler and had nothing to do with his mother’s unhappiness. But in the back of Lukas’s mind, he always felt that if he hadn’t been born, his mother wouldn’t have killed herself and his parents could have gone their separate ways, no harm done.

Lukas had long since understood that his father’s dislike for Emmalyn was rooted in the fact that she reminded his father so much of his mother. She had the same ambitious attitude and need for order (or so he’d been told). And though his father might deny the fact until his dying day, he knew that his father had adored the woman he married and had not loved another woman since. Perhaps the reason he preferred Sunny was that he knew that Lukas would never love Sunny to the extent that he loved Emmy. But the difference was that Emmalyn didn’t want him, plain and simple as that. On the car ride back to his father’s house, he had convinced himself that making a life with Sunny was the smart thing to do. She was a phenomenal woman and would make the perfect wife and mother.

Lukas rose from the table and walked to the stairs. He took a deep breath and began the climb, prepared to do whatever necessary to make things right with the one woman who wanted him but wasn’t really the woman he wanted.

I
t had been
two months to the day since Emmalyn had last seen or spoken to either Lukas or Grant. Emmalyn’s resolve to stay away from both men had grown stronger with each passing day. After her interlude with Lukas, Em couldn’t bring herself to call Grant. Eventually, he’d taken the hint and stopped calling. And except for this horrible stomach flu she couldn’t seem to get rid of, her mind and her life seemed to be lightening significantly. Apparently she just needed to accept that she needed to be alone a little longer. She focused on getting herself together, getting healthy, getting — something.

Em stepped out of the bathroom stall she’d just been throwing up in and washed her face off with one of the rough, brown towels in the dispenser. She swished a little water in her mouth and spit it out, hoping to hide the fact that she was still sick. Isabel and Zavia had been bugging her for over a week to go to a doctor to make sure there wasn’t something more seriously wrong than the stomach flu. Em had lost quite a bit of weight and was beginning to feel lightheaded at the simplest tasks. She took a look at her ashen face in the mirror and made a promise to herself that if she wasn’t better by the end of the week, she would go see the doctor. Even she had to admit that she looked terrible.

She took two steps toward the door and felt her legs buckle under her. Luckily she was able to catch herself by grabbing ahold of the counter top.

“This is crazy,” she thought to herself. She pulled herself upright and slowly made her way out the bathroom and back to her office. Isabel and Zavia jumped to their feet in shock and concern at her appearance. She held up her hand to cut them off before they could henpeck her to death.

“I know, I know. I’m going home. I’ll go to the doctor tomorrow. I swear it. I feel awful, and it’s not getting any better,” she croaked out.

She slowly made her way to her desk to grab her purse and keys. She didn’t even bother trying to pack her laptop. Then she handed her keys to Zavia. “Can you drive me home? I really don’t think I’d make it if I tried.” Emmalyn tried to smile, but the motion made her stomach drop. She barely made it to the garbage can before beginning to dry heave again. She had nothing left in her stomach to throw up.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t just take you to the emergency room? You look terrible.”

“No. Please, just take me home. I usually feel okay in the morning. It’s just after lunch that I feel like shit. Isabel can follow in her car and drop you at your car. Please.”

Isabel and Zavia exchanged worried looks, but in the end, they agreed to take Em at her word that she would go to the doctor first thing in the morning.

Before leaving, Zavia made Em promise that she would call her if she didn’t feel like driving in the morning or if she began to feel worse that evening. Em promised, though she would have promised just about anything to be able to get into her bed and go to sleep.

Em walked in the house and immediately headed for the kitchen. True to her word and because her inner hypochondriac was going nuts, she grabbed the phone and made an emergency appointment with her doctor for the next morning. She then grabbed her saltines and a big glass of water and went to bed. She’d worry about not having finished her will in the morning, if she lived through the night.

Emmalyn spent exactly three hours at the doctor’s office. Fifteen minutes were spent drawing blood and waiting for the doctor to tell her how much longer she had to live. Two hours and forty-five minutes were spent reviving Emmalyn and making sure she was okay to drive after her doctor told her she wasn’t dying, and that she was, instead, pregnant.

E
mmalyn spent
the next three days in bed. She refused to answer her phone, respond to texts, or open her door when her concerned friends stopped by. On the fourth day, Emmalyn’s sickness went away completely, and her appetite was back in full force. She dragged herself down to the kitchen to find the pantry and the refrigerator completely bare of anything but alcohol. It dawned on her that she really hadn’t eaten in days and hadn’t had a proper meal in weeks. Her hand instinctively went to her belly. Her mind hadn’t accepted the truth of her condition, but her body had. She went back to her bedroom, arguing with herself about whether she should order food in or head to the grocery store. She had no clue what pregnant women ate. She tried to remember what Zavia ate while pregnant, but all she could remember was that Zavia had an intense and overwhelming need for eggnog—damned inconvenient too, since Zee’s first trimester had occurred during the spring of the year.

Finally deciding to order something and hit the grocery store, she called an Indian restaurant that wasn’t too far from her house and ordered several different entrees. They all sounded good, but she wasn’t sure what she would be able to hold down. As she threw on some presentably clean clothes and ran a brush through her hair (dear God, when was the last time I combed my hair, she thought, as the brush got caught in yet another knot), she made a quick list of necessities and headed out to the store.

She grabbed her purse, remembering that the doctor had given her some pamphlets about healthy pregnancy as well as a referral to an obstetrician. She pulled the first pamphlet out. It was titled
A Joyous Time
and had a picture of a happy couple and a cute baby. The sight of the man in the picture instantly brought the father of the child she was carrying to the front of her mind, the one she’d taken to bed then let walk out of her house and her life. Emmalyn threw the pamphlet on the table, grabbed her keys, and headed out the door.

Unable to wait until getting home to begin eating, she grabbed a piece of buttery naan from the box on top. She munched on the delicious flatbread as she drove home. Isabel and Zavia were sitting on her stoop waiting for her.

“Dammit,” she cursed to herself.

Emmalyn wasn’t ready to have this conversation with herself, let alone her two best friends. Em pulled into her driveway and grabbed the food off the front seat.

Zavia rushed over to her, blocking her in the doorway of the car. “Where in the hell have you been? I have been trying to reach you for days now,” she charged.

“I’m fine. I’m not dying.” Emmalyn smiled and tried to move around Zavia, but Zavia was having none of Emmalyn’s flippant attitude.

“Emmalyn, I swear I am about this close to beating the shit out of you right here. Now what in the entire fuck is going on with you? Missing work? Not answering your phones, texts, emails? I’m worried about you.” Zavia began to tear up, illustrating just how worried about her friend she’d really been.

Em blushed in guilt and embarrassment. “I know you are. I know you both are. But please, give me some time, and I’ll tell you everything. I’m just not ready to talk about it yet.”

“What about work?” Isabel asked. Since they’d generally partnered up on most of their projects, Isabel had been covering Emmalyn’s share of the work, but that was getting tiresome.

“I’ve taken a short leave of absence. I talked to HR and Martin and they’ve agreed to two weeks.” Emmalyn couldn’t quite meet Isabel's eyes. She knew she should have told Isabel directly, but she wanted to avoid just this kind of confrontation. Isabel simply walked away. She took her purse off the stairs and headed toward the car she and Zavia had ridden in.

Zavia turned on Emmalyn, anger pulsating in her eyes and in her voice. “You have one week to tell me what is going on with you, or so help me God, I will do you harm. Do you hear me? You push our friendship too far sometimes.” Zavia turned away, not giving Emmalyn a chance to respond. Em couldn’t do anything but stare as the two people who had always been there for her, no matter what, drove away in anger.

“Why didn’t I just tell them,” she thought to herself as she unpacked her car and carried her food and groceries into the house. But she knew exactly why. She didn’t want them to know she’d slept with Lukas and that she was now going to be having his child. But she was going to have to fess up, and soon. And not just to Isabel and Zavia.

Z
avia paced the floor anxiously
. Their planned intervention with Emmalyn did not go as planned. If anything, the encounter left Zavia even more worried than before. Back at Isabel's apartment, it was obvious that Isabel was more hurt by Em’s behavior than she’d let on. Zavia sat next to her on the sofa, patting her back in what she hoped was a comforting way.

“She doesn’t mean to be this oblivious and stupid. She just is,” Zavia stated matter of factly.

Isabel just sighed in resignation. “I know. The work is piling up and I can’t keep up. Em was the workaholic, not me. I did the meetings; she cranked out the code. I’m dying here,” she disclosed.

“Can’t you sweet-talk someone into helping you with some of the work? I bet that dude from commercial IT would jump at the chance to help you out.” Zavia giggled and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Isabel smiled. “I just wish I knew what was going on with her. If it’s not worth all this drama, I’m going to kill her.”

“Me too. And I’ve known her longer, so I get first dibs. I checked with Lukas’s company. He’s back in California, so that’s not it.”

“Maybe things went south with Grant again?”

Zavia jumped up and started pacing again. “Who knows? I’ve got to get home. I meant what I told her. She has a week to pull her head out of her ass, or I’m going to pull it out for her.” She grabbed her purse and headed for the door. She paused with her hand on the knob and turned back to Isabel. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Isabel gave Zavia a weak smile. “Thanks, Zee. Tell my boy I’ll be at his game this weekend. He’s getting better every game.”

“I know,” Zavia beamed. “Mommy’s little baller. Lord knows he didn’t get athletic ability from his dad. I’ll see you there.”

On the car ride home, Zavia had a nagging feeling in her gut that she knew what was going on with Emmalyn. She didn’t want to push, but there was definitely something off about Em that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She almost drove through her garage door as the realization of what that something was hit her square in the chest.