CHAPTER TWELVE

I finish my dinner and grab two blankets for Kanye. As I enter our bedroom to retrieve him a pillow, I notice the shower is running in the ensuite. He’s using the ensuite shower. Goddamn it. Now when I go in there, it’s going to smell like him. I snatch up his pillow and stomp out of the room. I swear he chuckles as I leave the room.

I’m pulling the sofa bed out of the couch, unsuccessfully; this bed is a bitch to pull out, and it appears it hasn’t gotten any better in the last five years. I’m pulling when I see Kanye walking down the stairs in a pair of long, black cotton pants and nothing else. Goddamn him! I put all my anger into pulling the sofa out, but the bed pops right out and sends me flying backward. I hit the floor and then feel an arm behind my back, stopping me from hitting the solid wood TV unit. A grunt reverberates in my ear at the same time I see one of Kanye’s arms reach up and catch the TV before it falls on my head.

After I realize what’s happened, I look to my right and observe Kanye’s face cringing in pain. I squashed his arm between the TV unit and me. I jump up with a squeal.

“Oh, my God, are you okay?”

Kanye pulls his arm to his front and holds it as if it’s broken. “Yeah, baby, I’m okay, but you need to be more careful. You could have seriously hurt yourself doing that. That bed has a fucking huge spring to it when it’s pulled out. Don’t you remember?”

I search my memories and yes, I do remember. I was just too focused on Kanye’s naked chest and my anger to remember it at the time.

I reach out my arm and say, “Show me your arm, Superman. You should never have done that.”

“Whatever, of course I would do that and I would do it every fucking time. But from now on, you let me pop the bed out, okay?” Kanye asserts the question firmly.

“Fine,” I say with a stubborn tone. “Now, show me your arm, Kanye,” I state with narrowed eyes to show him I mean business.

He sighs and turns his arm over. I hiss at finding a bruise already forming and he has a swollen welt that’s bleeding.

“I’ll just go grab the first aid kit,” I mutter to myself as I turn to walk to the kitchen.

I pull open the cupboards under the sink. There sits our green first aid kit. There are spider webs attached to it and the plumbing. I pull it out and run a tea towel over it. I open it up, pull out the antiseptic wipes and the large square Band-Aids.

I walk back into the living room and find Kanye sitting on the sofa bed spreading out the sheets.

“Here, some antiseptic to clean it and Band-Aids if you want them.” I place them on the coffee table and stand back, unsure what to do. Five years ago, I would have cleaned his cut myself and then followed that up with some thank-you sex. I look around the room nervous.

“What, you aren’t going to clean it for me, Emmy?” Kanye says with a smirk.

I shake my head at his playful nature and feel my face soften as I admire his smile.

“You’re a big boy, Kanye. You’ve looked after yourself for the last five years. I’m sure you can handle a small cut.”

Instantly, my heart dies at my words when I realize what’s passed my lips.

Kanye’s smile dies a quick death and I feel horrible.

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Kanye doesn’t acknowledge my apology. Roughly, he begins to clean his cut. Then he stands, stares at me with a hard look, and walks into the kitchen. I’m guessing to throw away the antiseptic wipe or maybe cool off.

I slowly walk to the staircase unsure how to fix what my stupid big mouth just said. I feel a warm hand on my elbow as I take the first step. I turn and see Kanye’s beautiful face.

“Please, don’t go to bed yet, Emmy. Let’s talk. Please,” he pleads.

His warm, familiar hand on my elbow is like stepping out into the sunshine for the first time in a long while of being locked up inside a dark room. It’s both agonizing and blissful at the same time. The warmth spreads up my arms and threatens to crack my whole chest wide open and bring down my façade. I nod slowly, unsure if I can trust my voice.

Kanye moves his hand away as I walk back to the living room and immediately my body begs me to recapture his touch.

Kanye takes a seat on the sofa bed and I sit on the single sofa.

“What do you want to talk about?” I ask.

“You. I want to know how you’re doing, Emmy.”

I sigh, “I’m still struggling, but I’m always going to struggle, Kanye. That’s why you need to move on. I don’t want this life for you. This gloomy, miserable black world I live in. There’s no color, no smiles and no happiness in store for me. It kills me to think this could be your future, Kanye, when you deserve so much more.”

“I deserve more? Emmy, you deserve just as much as anybody else. And the gloomy, miserable black world you live in can become color. You can be happy again. You just need to let me help you. We can make enough good memories to fade out the bad. You just have to let us try, baby. You’re not the only person who went through hell while you were gone, Emmy. My world was black before I found you. Now I’m stuck in gray and I’m fighting to bring us into color.”

“I know. I’m sorry Kanye,” I softly say.

“I don’t want you to be sorry, Emmy!” Kanye shouts and jumps up from the sofa bed. “None of it is your fault, but you need to let me in. I just crawled through the last five years of my life. I want to get back up on my feet, or at least to my knees and start rebuilding my life with you.”

Kanye takes two steps, kneels down in front of me, and cups my cheeks with his big, soft hands. Tears fall fast from my pained eyes.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you cry,” he says softly as he wipes away my tears with this thumbs.

Warmth surrounds me, sweeping through my veins. My body recognizes it. The beautiful sensation reminds me I’m safe; I’m loved, and reassures me that one day I may be okay.

I meet Kanye’s eyes and I crack. I love this man. I want this man. Reach out and take him! I do. I ignore the screaming in my mind to keep away and my arms reach out and around Kanye’s neck.

As I pull him close, I hear Kanye’s sharp intake of breath. My heart’s racing as I press my lips hard against his. The pressure is only coming from me as he is stone still. It’s just one, hard, long closed-lip kiss.

I pull back breathless, adrenaline shoots through my body and I feel as if I could do anything right now.

Our eyes meet, and I watch as a shocked Kanye stares back at me. His eyes flare with hope and that’s all it takes for me to bring him close to me again.

This time Kanye’s hands move to my waist and grip me tightly. He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his hips as our mouths clash together in a hard, hungry, painful kiss. Our teeth clash and we bite each other’s lips.

Kanye lays me down on the sofa bed gently, careful not to break the kiss. Our hands are everywhere. I’m digging my hands into his ass and Kanye’s fingers are making a slow perusal under my top and up to my breasts. When his warm hands cup my breasts, I sigh into his mouth. Bliss. We stay like this for what feels like hours, but is probably only minutes. When we need to breathe, Kanye breaks the kiss and moves his lips along my jaw and down my neck. “Emmy,” he whispers over and over again against my skin. Then he takes my lips again and everything disappears except the feeling of Kanye’s soft, wet lips on mine, and his warm calloused hands gliding along my skin.

Kanye releases my lips again and our heavy breaths echo around the room. He kisses along my jaw and down to my neck.

Abruptly a powerful flash of a faceless man appears in my mind. His hands wound tight around my neck. My breathing accelerates.

Kanye’s head darts up from my neck and searches my face. The faceless man is laughing. His grip on my throat tightens. I bring my hands up trying to free myself so I can breathe.

“Emmy, baby. What’s wrong?”

Hands to my neck and with crazed eyes, I stare at Kanye. Panic flashes on his face as he realizes I’m stuck in a memory that’s grabbed hold of me and isn’t letting me go. Kanye’s eyes dart to my hands rubbing on my throat.

“Emmy, no one’s hurting you, baby. It’s just you and me here. No one is ever going to hurt you again. I promise.”

The faceless man continues to laugh and mock me. I clench my eyes closed and feel them squeeze out tears. They roll down the sides of my face and hit my ears.

“Emmy, you need to breathe. You are in control. Breathe in through your nose and out your mouth, now.”

Still with closed eyes, I try to follow Kanye’s instructions, but I only end up blowing big puffs out through my mouth in my panicked state to try and calm down.

I feel warmth envelop my face and then Kanye’s whispered voice is right at my ear, “In through your nose, baby, out through your mouth.” His gentle and calm tone has me focused on him and I follow his directions.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

With each breath, Kanye repeats his words in the same gentle voice.

The fog begins to clear and I open my eyes. It takes a moment, but Kanye and the room come into focus. He gently moves my hands from my neck and kisses both my wrists.

I fall apart right in front of him. Sobs rip from my chest and I turn to my side and curl into my body. A kiss, I can’t even kiss without these hideous memories assaulting me.

Kanye lies beside me and pulls me into his body. I feel the vibration of my cries through his chest onto my face. He’s silent as his strong arms hold me tightly. I sense him flinch every time another harrowing cry escapes my throat.

A little while later, I’ve calmed down, or is it that my body just has nothing left? Perhaps my tears have finally abandoned me again. I’ve been here before, my body giving up and setting straight to numb.

Two soft fingers grip my chin and force my head up. I close my eyes tightly. I don’t want to see his face. What if he’s disappointed, disgusted or thinks I’m insane. I can’t handle this.

“Emmy, please open your eyes.” I clench them closed tighter, hearing the pain in his voice.

“I love you, Emily. Nothing you could ever do will change that. Don’t shy away from me now, baby. We just had a beautiful moment. Remember the good, forget the bad.” So easy for him to say.

I open my eyes. With a furrowed brow and pressed lips, Kanye stares back at me. I think of making a joke about worry lines, but decide against it. His face relaxes and he kisses my forehead. He looks back to my eyes and doesn’t release them while he speaks.

“I fucking adore you more than life itself, Emmy. If you go into the dark again, you tell me. Because I’ll always be here to pull you out. Out into the bright light, where you belong.”

I don’t say anything. I hold his stare for a moment longer and then curl into his body. Kanye pulls the covers over us and hugs me tightly to his chest.

This is wrong and I shouldn’t stay lying here with him but I need this. Just one night. I did exactly what I said I wouldn’t. He got close and now he’s seen a small part of me, an ugly part of my life I didn’t want anyone ever to see. It’s only a matter of time before he understands I’m too far gone and he doesn’t want to be a part of my dark world. People can only take so much before they walk away. They will see I’m not worth the effort, and then, I’ll know; I lost them because they saw just how ugly I have become.

My stomach churns, but it’s not my tummy. It’s anger swirling around my scarred soul. Rage. Now more than ever, I need to reach Donovan. And when I do, I may not make it out alive, but neither will he.

Death while seizing my revenge seems fitting. He helped create me and I shall destroy us both.