Warning! Spoiler alert for the Queen of Denial story
Marie
Jesse grins at me. Damn him for being adorable and knowing it! He wants to know when he can start with his 'simfu training' if you could call it that, and I have no idea when he can start. I tell him so.
"Tell you what," he says and sits up a little to stretch and scratch the back of his head. I wonder if carrying me earlier hurt his back. I'm not exactly light. "I'm going to walk and get Martha and drive her back here, and while I'm gone, you figure it out." He gets up and walks over to the front door before stopping to point at me. "Stay on the couch!" he orders sternly all of a sudden.
"I was going to!" I fuss back at him, throwing my hands to my sides and pushing my face forward in a belligerent display. I don't have to do what you say! I think childishly.
"Good. Thank you," he says with a small smile now before opening the door, exiting, and closing it behind him. I can hear him humming as he makes his way to the beach.
"If you weren't running so fast, you wouldn't have fallen so hard," my inner voice tells me.
I sigh and adjust the ice to a new spot. At least it helps with the pain. I had been going so fast because I guessed that with Jesse's athletic build that he could catch me if I didn't go all out, and I didn't want to be caught.
I had been just about ready to start listening to him when she walked up, reminding me of why I shouldn't. Players are dangerous, and they hurt you.
But he didn't immediately start flirting or anything when we got here. He just asked when he could start taking lessons. Here I am, pretty much trapped on this couch, and he didn't try to take advantage of the situation.
But he'll be back. I actually make a relieved sigh with this thought. The 'happiest he's been all week,' he said. I have to admit, yet again, that things are better with him around. I'm glad he's coming back. No, I'm thrilled he's coming back.
He tried to leave me alone and couldn't! I think with stupid tears rolling down my face. Why am I crying?!
I answer myself. I'm just so so relieved that he didn't give up on me after all. I missed him!
I make a disgusting sniffing noise and dry my face. I can't let him see that I've been crying.
He missed me too.
Please, Jesse. Don't be playing me! I don't know the difference, and I'm afraid, I think sleepily, tired from my crying. I lay my head against the back of the couch and fall asleep.
"Marie?" Jesse asks as he lightly shakes me awake.
I look over at him before I realize my ice bag has started leaking.
"Here, let me get that," he says, takes the bag, and carries it off to the kitchen.
I try to rest my head against the couch like I had it before, but another pressing need prevents me from being comfortable.
"I need to use the bathroom," I say and move to get up. He immediately runs over to me, telling me to not get up on my own and let him help me. I guess I don't have a choice. "I'm going to need to see a doctor. I don't think this will heal easily, and I'm worried there might be something else wrong than just a sprain."
"I hope not," he states. "I'll drive you to the clinic tomorrow morning before I have to go to the store."
While I'm hobbling around in the bathroom, a thought occurs to me. What am I going to do about work?
I ask Jesse this after I leave the restroom. He helps me to my bed since the couch is a little wet from the ice, and I'm tired. He'd better not get any ideas about putting me to bed.
"Oh that," he says, talking about my job. "I thought of that and called Bryce and told him what happened. Well, not everything. We all, Erin in the background, agreed that Erin could work your shifts for you. I'm hoping that's okay with you. Just for a few days anyway."
He already thought about it. "Yes. I hope it's just for a few days," I say before he helps me lie down.
"I um... brought stuff with me so that I could stay here tonight." He quickly adds, "Sleeping on the couch! You know, in case you need anything you can just yell."
He's actually fidgeting. "But the couch is wet from the ice."
"Doesn't bother me," he responds. "Listen, Marie, it's just in case you need help. Okay?"
I don't see any hidden agenda in his eyes, only him wanting to be helpful. "Okay," I agree.
For a little while, I worry that I'll have trouble going to sleep with Jesse in my living room, but I'm out within minutes.
"Whoa! Hang on a sec!" Greg begs, throwing up his hands. "I thought we already explained it. We're friends. You don't have anything to worry about. Elena darling, please... don't be upset."
"Don't be upset?" she growls. "Greg, you're cheating on me. Don't play me for a fool! Get past third base? Then, it sounded like she was trying to convince you to leave me!"
"Elena, I love you. I could never leave you. Don't worry about that."
"I'm not going to listen to your meaningless words any longer. I'm going to bed. You can sleep on the couch tonight. Or, Marie's bed is available now that she and Xavier are at John's," she snaps and moves to walk around him to head up the stairs. Of course, he outmaneuvers her and blocks her path.
The pair of them talk for a little while while Greg tries to explain to Elena his friendship with Sylvia.
"Do you finally believe me?" Greg asks, running his fingers through her hair.
Elena sighs and says tiredly, "Maybe I was overreacting. It's just, you have to admit things looked that way."
Greg chuckles a little and pulls Elena close before kissing her. After pulling back, he says, "I love you."
"I love you too, and I know that you'd never cheat on me. You'd never keep something like that from me because you love me," Elena says, now believing she had been silly to throw a fit like she did.
Greg's entire frame wilts as he takes in what Elena says.
Elena watches him worriedly as he steps back and covers his face with his hand. "Oh Elena, I'm such an idiot. I can't live with myself."
"What? What is it?" she asks, trying to keep herself from throwing a fit similar to the one from which she just recovered.
Greg closes his eyes tightly behind his hand as he says robotically, "I have cheated on you. With Sylvia. While you were pregnant."
I realize I'm dreaming. I have no idea where this is coming from. I learned from Mom what had happened that day, but this is in much better detail than I could've imagined.
The dream shifts, I guess ahead in time.
Greg asks, "And what was it you thought about?"
"Huh?" Elena asks like she's just come out of a trance. "Oh. Nothing, actually. I thought about nothing." The pair get silent for a few seconds.
"Elena darling, You must understand the horrible guilt I feel. I screwed up."
Elena quickly stops him from apologizing further by saying, "I'm not ready to talk about it."
Greg begs, "No, you must talk about it. Please let me talk about it with you."
"What more is there to say, Greg?" she asks and acts like his name leaves a bad taste on her tongue.
"A lot more! Stop trying not to think about it! I can see that blank stare in your eyes that you get when something bad happens to you. We need to talk about this now."
"I have nothing to say to you. I don't want to talk about it," she answers mechanically.
He continues to try to get her to talk about fixing their broken relationship. Elena brushes him off and states that she needs to go check on Ben. Greg informs her he'd just finished giving him a bottle.
He reaches for her, knowing that if he could only kiss her that things would improve. She backs away from him like he could burn her with a simple touch.
"Please don't," she says. "Just don't." Tears look to be forming in her eyes, but it's difficult to tell for sure.
Greg drops his hands, his expression crestfallen. For just a moment, Elena's hard look softens before she shakes it off.
"I just can't handle this!" she says and storms past him and into the house.
"I want time, Greg. Time to heal," Elena says, and I guess this means the dream shifted forward again. "I love you, but you've hurt me. I want to establish a sense of trust again."
The sun looks like it's come up. It must be the next morning.
"I told you," Elena says. "I need time."
Greg looks angry. "Just how much damn time are we talking here, Elena 'darling'?" His voice sounds sarcastically cruel when he says the word darling.
More harsh words pass between them, and Elena leaves the room to go take a shower.
Greg throws his hands up in a helpless gesture and speaks loudly towards the bathroom as he says, "I give up, Elena. You're right. I don't know what you mean. I don't know what you want. I tried."
He gets dressed in his sports uniform and leaves. In the middle of the day, while Elena is at work, he comes back home, writes Elena a note, pays the sitter to stay later, and walks out the door.
"Jesse isn't me," Greg's voice says crisp and clear in my dream, speaking directly to me. I feel shocked to my core. Greg is dead.
I hated what he did to my mother. First, he convinced her to divorce my dad, and then he cheated on her. I hated him.
Seeing that whole scene brings it all back, and I start crying.
I hated you, Greg! You hurt Mom! You hurt Dad! You hurt... ME!
"Marie, wake up," I hear as someone lightly shakes me. Hands wipe my cheeks. "Please, stop crying." I open my eyes and see Jesse through the semi-darkness as he crouches next to the bed with his hands still wiping my cheeks. I let out a couple more sobs while I work on absorbing everything that was shown to me in the dream.
Somehow, that was Greg showing me all that stuff. That's the only explanation... if there can be an explanation for the dream.
"Just another crazy dream," I say through little hiccups.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks me softly while he brushes a few strands of hair off my face.
"It was a dead man's memories," I say cryptically. 'Jesse isn't me,' he said. Greg gave up and left. For Dad's sake, I'm glad he did, but Greg crushed Mom when he did that, I think as I realize how what he did affected me as well.
"A dead man?" Jesse asks, and I don't need the light on to imagine the incredulous surprise that must be on his face.
"Sorry. I must sound crazy," I say and go ahead and explain in short detail my dream. I leave out the part at the end.
This is the part where I'm supposed to tell him I'll be okay and that he can go back to sleep on the couch, but I don't want him to go.
"So," Jesse asks, "he just left her and they got a divorce?"
"Yes. Then he wanted her back, but by that time she was starting to date my dad again too. Then there was this crazy man that shot and killed him," I answer sleepily.
"That explains how he's dead," he says.
"Yes. It's a long story, and I'm tired," I answer. I stayed up too late last night composing that message I left on his phone.
"I'll leave so you can sleep some more," he says quietly. "Anything you need?"
"Don't go," I say in a small voice before I can stop myself.
Jesse freezes while I try to keep from panicking. What was I thinking?!
"I mean," I swallow as I try to explain, "I don't want the dream to come back." I want to add a 'that's all' at the end, but that would be a lie.
"Then I'll stay," he says quietly, walks around the bed, and lies down on the other side. I wish I could see his expression in the darkness. His back is towards the window, so all I see is his silhouette.
I bite my lip as he stays on his side of the bed, on his side, facing me. A war takes place inside of me with half of me cursing the fact that I told him stay while the other half wants me to move towards him in hopes that he'll hold me. I'm guessing that he won't try anything for fear of me biting his head off or attacking him. I don't blame him. Closing my eyes and taking in a steadying breath, I realize that I have to be the one to go to him. I start to scoot towards him.
"Don't hurt yourself!" he admonishes me quietly as he quickly closes the distance between us.
He must be able to read me like a book because he wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. For a few seconds, I feel overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. No wonder he called me 'little.' His shoulders blot out the small amount of light coming from the window, and he's warm... and I like it. He even takes special care to not hurt my knee.
I relax and rest my head against his bare chest, and his arms tighten around me while he lets out a shaky exhale. His arms stay tight around me, and he starts taking several deep breaths. After a little while, I get concerned that I'm doing something to make it hard to for him to control himself.
"Jesse, are you o-"
"No, I'm not," he answers quickly before I even get halfway through my question, and his mouth descends upon me, unerringly finding mine.
I'm immediately caught up in the spell of his kiss even if a small noise of shocked surprise escapes me. Has it really been a week since I last kissed him? The hot tub dream didn't count.
My heart beats out of control while his hand reaches back and holds the back of my head in place so that he can keep kissing me like a man possessed. I. am. getting. kissed. I can't say 'we're kissing' because I haven't a chance at catching up, and he has no intention of letting me. It's all I can do to take it all in, and I really start to worry that he'll want to push things past the point where I'm comfortable. He doesn't. He only kisses me ...insanely... but still only kisses me.
How long can he keep up this crazy pace? I think desperately after a few minutes go by when he shows no sign of slowing down. I let another small noise out, hoping to tell him he's wearing me out with this intensity. He catches on and slows down for about half a minute before he groans and picks up the fervor of his kiss again.
Jesse, please! I mentally beg, let out another noise, and hit his shoulders lightly with my fists.
"Don't be mad at me," he gasps out suddenly. "Please don't be mad at me! I can't help it. I'm here. And you're here. I'm sorry. I couldn't stand it. I had to at least kiss you."
I try to answer him before he can complete his emotional tirade, but I have to work to catch my breath. He acts like he wants to start up again, but I place my hand over his mouth. "Shh," I say simply and try to slow down my breathing. "I'm not... mad... I'm just... trying to catch my... breath."
He noticeably relaxes and brings his hand up to hold my hand that covers his mouth before he kisses each of my fingers individually.
"Let's... just go... to sleep," I say, my breathing getting slowly under control.
"I promise I'll try," he answers with a small laugh in his voice.
I let out an exasperated sigh and curl up in his arms again. Plain, ordinary dreams come to me while I drift off to sleep with Jesse kissing my forehead, my hair, my fingers in the hand he still has, and anywhere else he can easily reach without being too obnoxious about it.
He tried to leave me alone and couldn't! I think with stupid tears rolling down my face. Why am I crying?!
I answer myself. I'm just so so relieved that he didn't give up on me after all. I missed him!
I make a disgusting sniffing noise and dry my face. I can't let him see that I've been crying.
He missed me too.
Please, Jesse. Don't be playing me! I don't know the difference, and I'm afraid, I think sleepily, tired from my crying. I lay my head against the back of the couch and fall asleep.
I look over at him before I realize my ice bag has started leaking.
"Here, let me get that," he says, takes the bag, and carries it off to the kitchen.
I try to rest my head against the couch like I had it before, but another pressing need prevents me from being comfortable.
"I need to use the bathroom," I say and move to get up. He immediately runs over to me, telling me to not get up on my own and let him help me. I guess I don't have a choice. "I'm going to need to see a doctor. I don't think this will heal easily, and I'm worried there might be something else wrong than just a sprain."
"I hope not," he states. "I'll drive you to the clinic tomorrow morning before I have to go to the store."
While I'm hobbling around in the bathroom, a thought occurs to me. What am I going to do about work?
"Oh that," he says, talking about my job. "I thought of that and called Bryce and told him what happened. Well, not everything. We all, Erin in the background, agreed that Erin could work your shifts for you. I'm hoping that's okay with you. Just for a few days anyway."
He already thought about it. "Yes. I hope it's just for a few days," I say before he helps me lie down.
"I um... brought stuff with me so that I could stay here tonight." He quickly adds, "Sleeping on the couch! You know, in case you need anything you can just yell."
He's actually fidgeting. "But the couch is wet from the ice."
"Doesn't bother me," he responds. "Listen, Marie, it's just in case you need help. Okay?"
I don't see any hidden agenda in his eyes, only him wanting to be helpful. "Okay," I agree.
For a little while, I worry that I'll have trouble going to sleep with Jesse in my living room, but I'm out within minutes.
"Whoa! Hang on a sec!" Greg begs, throwing up his hands. "I thought we already explained it. We're friends. You don't have anything to worry about. Elena darling, please... don't be upset.""Don't be upset?" she growls. "Greg, you're cheating on me. Don't play me for a fool! Get past third base? Then, it sounded like she was trying to convince you to leave me!"
"Elena, I love you. I could never leave you. Don't worry about that."
"I'm not going to listen to your meaningless words any longer. I'm going to bed. You can sleep on the couch tonight. Or, Marie's bed is available now that she and Xavier are at John's," she snaps and moves to walk around him to head up the stairs. Of course, he outmaneuvers her and blocks her path.
The pair of them talk for a little while while Greg tries to explain to Elena his friendship with Sylvia.
Elena sighs and says tiredly, "Maybe I was overreacting. It's just, you have to admit things looked that way."
Greg chuckles a little and pulls Elena close before kissing her. After pulling back, he says, "I love you."
"I love you too, and I know that you'd never cheat on me. You'd never keep something like that from me because you love me," Elena says, now believing she had been silly to throw a fit like she did.
Greg's entire frame wilts as he takes in what Elena says.
"What? What is it?" she asks, trying to keep herself from throwing a fit similar to the one from which she just recovered.
Greg closes his eyes tightly behind his hand as he says robotically, "I have cheated on you. With Sylvia. While you were pregnant."
I realize I'm dreaming. I have no idea where this is coming from. I learned from Mom what had happened that day, but this is in much better detail than I could've imagined.
The dream shifts, I guess ahead in time.
"Huh?" Elena asks like she's just come out of a trance. "Oh. Nothing, actually. I thought about nothing." The pair get silent for a few seconds.
"Elena darling, You must understand the horrible guilt I feel. I screwed up."
Elena quickly stops him from apologizing further by saying, "I'm not ready to talk about it."
Greg begs, "No, you must talk about it. Please let me talk about it with you."
"What more is there to say, Greg?" she asks and acts like his name leaves a bad taste on her tongue.
"A lot more! Stop trying not to think about it! I can see that blank stare in your eyes that you get when something bad happens to you. We need to talk about this now."
"I have nothing to say to you. I don't want to talk about it," she answers mechanically.
He continues to try to get her to talk about fixing their broken relationship. Elena brushes him off and states that she needs to go check on Ben. Greg informs her he'd just finished giving him a bottle.
"Please don't," she says. "Just don't." Tears look to be forming in her eyes, but it's difficult to tell for sure.
Greg drops his hands, his expression crestfallen. For just a moment, Elena's hard look softens before she shakes it off.
"I just can't handle this!" she says and storms past him and into the house.
"I told you," Elena says. "I need time."
Greg looks angry. "Just how much damn time are we talking here, Elena 'darling'?" His voice sounds sarcastically cruel when he says the word darling.
More harsh words pass between them, and Elena leaves the room to go take a shower.
He gets dressed in his sports uniform and leaves. In the middle of the day, while Elena is at work, he comes back home, writes Elena a note, pays the sitter to stay later, and walks out the door.
"Jesse isn't me," Greg's voice says crisp and clear in my dream, speaking directly to me. I feel shocked to my core. Greg is dead.
I hated what he did to my mother. First, he convinced her to divorce my dad, and then he cheated on her. I hated him.
Seeing that whole scene brings it all back, and I start crying.
I hated you, Greg! You hurt Mom! You hurt Dad! You hurt... ME!
Somehow, that was Greg showing me all that stuff. That's the only explanation... if there can be an explanation for the dream.
"Just another crazy dream," I say through little hiccups.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks me softly while he brushes a few strands of hair off my face.
"It was a dead man's memories," I say cryptically. 'Jesse isn't me,' he said. Greg gave up and left. For Dad's sake, I'm glad he did, but Greg crushed Mom when he did that, I think as I realize how what he did affected me as well.
"A dead man?" Jesse asks, and I don't need the light on to imagine the incredulous surprise that must be on his face.
"Sorry. I must sound crazy," I say and go ahead and explain in short detail my dream. I leave out the part at the end.
This is the part where I'm supposed to tell him I'll be okay and that he can go back to sleep on the couch, but I don't want him to go.
"So," Jesse asks, "he just left her and they got a divorce?"
"Yes. Then he wanted her back, but by that time she was starting to date my dad again too. Then there was this crazy man that shot and killed him," I answer sleepily.
"That explains how he's dead," he says.
"Yes. It's a long story, and I'm tired," I answer. I stayed up too late last night composing that message I left on his phone.
"I'll leave so you can sleep some more," he says quietly. "Anything you need?"
"Don't go," I say in a small voice before I can stop myself.
Jesse freezes while I try to keep from panicking. What was I thinking?!
"I mean," I swallow as I try to explain, "I don't want the dream to come back." I want to add a 'that's all' at the end, but that would be a lie.
"Then I'll stay," he says quietly, walks around the bed, and lies down on the other side. I wish I could see his expression in the darkness. His back is towards the window, so all I see is his silhouette.
"Don't hurt yourself!" he admonishes me quietly as he quickly closes the distance between us.
He must be able to read me like a book because he wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. For a few seconds, I feel overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. No wonder he called me 'little.' His shoulders blot out the small amount of light coming from the window, and he's warm... and I like it. He even takes special care to not hurt my knee.
I relax and rest my head against his bare chest, and his arms tighten around me while he lets out a shaky exhale. His arms stay tight around me, and he starts taking several deep breaths. After a little while, I get concerned that I'm doing something to make it hard to for him to control himself.
"Jesse, are you o-"
"No, I'm not," he answers quickly before I even get halfway through my question, and his mouth descends upon me, unerringly finding mine.
My heart beats out of control while his hand reaches back and holds the back of my head in place so that he can keep kissing me like a man possessed. I. am. getting. kissed. I can't say 'we're kissing' because I haven't a chance at catching up, and he has no intention of letting me. It's all I can do to take it all in, and I really start to worry that he'll want to push things past the point where I'm comfortable. He doesn't. He only kisses me ...insanely... but still only kisses me.
How long can he keep up this crazy pace? I think desperately after a few minutes go by when he shows no sign of slowing down. I let another small noise out, hoping to tell him he's wearing me out with this intensity. He catches on and slows down for about half a minute before he groans and picks up the fervor of his kiss again.
Jesse, please! I mentally beg, let out another noise, and hit his shoulders lightly with my fists.
"Don't be mad at me," he gasps out suddenly. "Please don't be mad at me! I can't help it. I'm here. And you're here. I'm sorry. I couldn't stand it. I had to at least kiss you."
I try to answer him before he can complete his emotional tirade, but I have to work to catch my breath. He acts like he wants to start up again, but I place my hand over his mouth. "Shh," I say simply and try to slow down my breathing. "I'm not... mad... I'm just... trying to catch my... breath."
He noticeably relaxes and brings his hand up to hold my hand that covers his mouth before he kisses each of my fingers individually.
"Let's... just go... to sleep," I say, my breathing getting slowly under control.
I let out an exasperated sigh and curl up in his arms again. Plain, ordinary dreams come to me while I drift off to sleep with Jesse kissing my forehead, my hair, my fingers in the hand he still has, and anywhere else he can easily reach without being too obnoxious about it.
