Chapter 4
Lucas
Struggling to breathe through what feels like a ragged hole in my chest, I collect the files from Emma’s desk, wishing that her scent wasn’t still in her office, filling me with a want so strong that it almost drives me to my knees, as I turn and walk out her office door.
Once outside, I turn back and quickly insert the key to lock the door.
It had taken me several days to get up the nerve to go in there.
And now I know I’ll never go back in there.
It hurts too much.
Just like every time she had called or texted had sent a sharp searing pain through my chest. It had taken every ounce of my willpower not to pick up the phone or return the text – to beg her to come back to me.
I’d gone for a long ride after leaving Emma that night at the cottage after I’d lost all control, to try to clear the anger, the sheer rage that had been pumping through my veins. Touching her again, knowing it was going to be the last time had made me completely lose my mind and I’d been somewhat savage as I satisfied myself in her body one more time.
One more time before Eric touched her.
My stomach roils, threatening to vomit at the thought.
The state is not unfamiliar to me any longer. Since Emma left, whenever I’ve thought of her with someone else, my stomach would twist.
My heart threatening to break.
I hear footsteps on the staircase and my heart suddenly races as I forget myself for a moment and expect to see Emma.
But then I catch myself and my heart drops again, crashing me back to reality.
Shaking my head, I walk to my office wondering when I would stop seeing Emma everywhere.
Thinking that I hear her voice whenever I turn a corner.
But as I sit at my desk, it doesn’t help as I remember that I’d once made love to Emma right here. How I’d watched her as her eyes softly closed in ecstasy, her back arching as she laid sprawled before me on my desk, her breasts shaking with my every thrust.
Her encouraging moans to go deeper spurring my lust for her further, beyond all thought…
Her voice whispering my name – Lucas – as I slowly slide myself out, savoring every single inch of her.
Angry, I toss the files that still smell like her on my desk and put my head in my hands.
She is fucking everywhere.
Last night, I’d finally returned to the house after staying with my parents for a few nights as I put off going back to where I’d shared so much with Emma. My heart had ached, yearning for what I once had as I pulled into the driveway, and as my eyes slid over the place that I’d once thought was mine and Emma’s home, the hurt had impossibly deepened further.
If I’d thought that was hard, walking in through the door had been even harder.
So much so that I’d almost turned around and left.
But instead, I had pushed myself to move forward, wanting to somehow sadistically torture myself.
I’d succeeded with my torture as I’d climbed between the sheets on the bed where Emma and I had made love so many times. There, her scent - the memories, were the strongest. I’d lain there in the torture until, just after midnight, I couldn’t tolerate it any longer. I’d risen, angry, wanting to tear something apart.
Or to set something on fire to burn her every memory from my mind.
So, I had angrily torn the sheets from the bed, quickly rolling them up before striding outside and lighting a fire in the firepit, feeling a satisfying feeling as I poured lighter fluid over the material before setting it on fire.
That satisfied feeling quickly left me as I stood looking at the ashes.
It felt symbolic of our relationship somehow.
How the fire had immediately caught between Emma and I when we first met but then in the end, there was nothing left.
Nothing but blackened ashes.
I hadn’t bothered to go back to sleep. Instead, I’d stayed by the firepit, building another fire, and then watching the flickering flames all night.
I lift my head from my hands and stare across the expanse of my office to the vineyard outside as I bring myself back to the moment and the other issues relating to the business and the toll the lack of Emma’s presence is bringing down on my shoulders. Just the thought of posting Emma’s job online doesn’t sit right but I know I’ve no other option.
Sighing, I turn to my computer and pull up the online job site. As I type out the job description, my mind whirls, helplessly bringing me back to the day I first met Emma. Prior to her walking through my door, I’d reviewed her resume closely and knew that she was the perfect person for the job and that she’d ticked all the boxes in what I was looking for.
But when she had walked through the door, I didn’t realize that she would also tick all the boxes in what I was personally searching for as well.
I hear a knock on my door, distracting me from my thoughts.
I stare at the door, contemplating not answering but I also know I can’t hide here.
I have to move on – somehow – to continue to make sure my parent’s legacy doesn’t suffer. Plus, work will help to occupy my brain, distract me from my constant memories of Emma.
Swallowing thickly, I say, “Come in.”
The door opens, and Martha’s sympathetic face appears.
It’s the last thing I want to see so I quickly drop my gaze from hers.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Lucas,” I hear her say softly, and the sympathy extends into her tone, putting me on edge. “But there are several things that I don’t know what to do about since Emma…” I squeeze my eyes shut as I hear her name, taking in the pause that Martha takes, knowing she is trying to tread lightly around the subject of Emma, as she continues, “Well…that was part of Emma’s responsibilities…”
Sighing deeply, I lift my head to meet Martha’s worried and sympathetic eyes.
“I just posted a job to replace…” I trail off, unable to say Emma’s name aloud.
Martha’s sympathetic gaze wanders over my face, probing deeply.
“Are you okay?” she asks, in a careful murmur.
“I’m not sure,” I murmur back in truthful response.
She nods, her eyes remaining sympathetic as she says equally as truthfully, “I hate having to bother you with this but there have been several issues arise over the past couple of days that are outside my knowledge.”
Sighing, I gesture for her to sit and fill me in.
As we go through each item on her list, I find myself realizing that Emma had been dealing with so much more than I ever realized but I don’t panic. Instead, I take the list and decide to tackle everything myself.
After all, I have nothing else left. The thoughts of spending nights at home by myself is unappealing so keeping myself occupied with work would be my way to escape until this hurt subsided.
As Martha stands to leave, I feel her hesitation.
Lifting my eyes to her, knowing she only has my best interests at heart, I listen as she says, “I’m not sure exactly what happened between you and Emma or how things were left between you two, but I want you to know this. What you had with her was real. We all felt it. We also now feel her absence. But we are here for you, for whatever you need.”
A lump rises in my throat as I feel a special emotion for this woman rise within me.
I can’t speak, so instead I only nod.
So very, very grateful.