Days Forgotten but Not Lost Ch. 08

"You mean for tonight or... or for us?"

"I think sleep is in order for tonight," he said with a yawn. "My question was regarding the future. But maybe you still need to think about it?"

I felt too sleepy to make any big decisions. And I did want to sit by myself and think about what I'd heard that day. There was an awful lot to take in. "Yes, we need to talk more tomorrow, after I have a chance to think."

"I understand," he said, slowly rubbing the exposed skin of my arms with his hand. "You always were an internal processor. Take your time. And if you need, take your space. I can go back whenever you want, or I can hang around. It's summer break, you know."

"Oh, you're staying right here for now," I told him. "I might have more questions. But I reserve the right to kick you out on your ass at any time."

"Fair enough," he chuckled. He probably knew it was an empty threat at that point. "But at least let me stay the night. After finally getting all that off my chest, I think I'm fixing for the best night's sleep I've had in a while."

"Well, that's too bad," I said, smiling in the dark.

"Hm?"

"I said that's too bad. Because I'm all worked up from writing this story and I could sure use some help clearing my head."

"That was always one of the best things about being married to Ginny Bowers," Scott sighed. Then pushing me up into a sitting position, he grabbed the oar and said, "You know, I think I just felt a surge of energy come over me. Perhaps I'm getting my second wind."

"Don't worry, lover," I said, grabbing his jaw and pulling him in for a kiss. "You'll get your sleep tonight. But not until R.S.M. inspires another few chapters."

*******

Scott got us back to shore somehow. I really couldn't tell where we were. There was no moon, and the stars were bright, but not so bright that they lit the way to the cabin. But Scott knew. It felt so easy to trust him. As he rowed us back, I said softly, almost to myself, "You tried to kill yourself." It wasn't a question - just a comment, a reflection on how much he'd been hurting.

"I did," he said.

"Why?"

The oar dug into the water, pushing us a little bit more into the darkness. Scott's breathing was getting heavier. He spoke in short sentences in between pulls on the oar. "We'd been divorced over a year. It was your birthday. I couldn't even call you. I couldn't find a way back to you. And I knew you weren't happy either. I thought neither of us would ever be happy again. And I knew it was my fault. Your mom called to remind me that I'd ruined your life twice: first by marrying you and then by cheating on you. And I wanted it to stop hurting. Then I found a bottle of your pills in my stuff. I thought it was fate."

I didn't know what else to say, what else to ask. It seemed like enough. I didn't need to know more, not now.

"Your accident was about a month later. I never heard about it; I was still in a funk."

I felt a slight chill on my arms and rubbed them. "I'm sorry, Scott. I shouldn't have asked."

"Yes, you should have. I'm glad you did," he said. "Hang on."

His warning barely registered, giving me just enough time to grip my seat before the boat slipped alongside the dock. Scott grabbed a post to stop us, then climbed out and secured the line. Once the rocking had subsided to a minimum, I stood up and took the hand Scott offered to help me up. We walked the short distance of the pier and I smiled when my feet left the coarse wooden planks and found the cool, dry grass. Scott put his arm around me and led us towards the cabin. It was a gorgeous night. A breeze was rustling the leaves and the gentle lapping of water on the shore was soothing. Everything in the air felt... perfect.

"Wait," I said softly. I breathed in deep.

"It's so different with the mint," Scott commented.

"Different bad?" I asked, wrapping the blanket around my shoulders. The night was much cooler than the day, and the change was refreshing.

"No... just different. Something new. I don't think I'd want it the old way again. It wasn't bad before, but this is better."

I turned to face him, making out hints of his serene smile in the darkness. Putting my hands around his waist, I had only meant to kiss him. But I was suddenly struck with an inexplicable urgency. I looked down at my hands on his sides, then began unbuckling his belt.

"Millie?" he questioned, looking down, trying to find my eyes. I unzipped his pants and began lifting the hem of his shirt. Scott raised his arms in compliance and I dropped the garment to the ground next to us. No sense in tossing things around in the darkness.

Once he was shirtless, Scott got in the game and removed my shirt in one quick motion. I shook my hair free then gasped as Scott knelt in front of me and took a breast into his mouth. His strong hands roamed around my torso, evoking chills along their path. When I began to whimper at his attentions, Scott tugged at my shorts. Wiggling my hips a bit, I helped him get me fully naked.

Scott abruptly stood up in front of me, pulling down his pants and kicking them to the side.

"How do we...?" I began.

Glancing around, he answered, "I'm not sure."

"Have we ever...?"

Laughing, he said, "No, never."

Then, as if a solution had suddenly occurred to him, Scott stepped into my embrace and then sat down, pulling me with him. Landing on his shirt, he crossed his legs and made a comfortable seat for me. I settled onto his lap and circled my legs around his waist, feeling his erection tapping at my bottom. Scott picked up the blanket from where it had fallen, and he wrapped it around our bodies, making a cocoon from which only our heads emerged. Arms wrapped around each other, we kissed, fiercely at first, then slowly and with the calm of unhurried lovers. We had all the time in the world now. There was no moon to mark the hours, morning might never come. It mattered not.

I began shifting around. I sensed his need, a need I shared. Sliding a hand between us, I reached down and gripped his warm shaft. It pulsed with need and eagerness. I moved my hand up and down, teasing and preparing him. Scott broke our kiss with a gasp. I smiled mischievously, wondering how long he would let me keep that up. Fortunately for him, I had no intention of finding out. I aimed his tip at my opening, ensuring it was placed just right. Then I angled my hips so that I could slide down onto him, his entry unhindered thanks to my own arousal.

Scott spread his legs a little, giving me room to sink further down onto him. I pulled myself towards him with my heels planted on the ground behind him. A few wiggles of the hips and we were fully joined. I knew that if there had been enough light, I could have looked down to see my lips wrapped around his base. We could not possibly have been any closer.

I held on to the blanket that covered both of us. I didn't mind the chill, knowing we would soon be sweating. Nor was I worried at all about privacy. The blanket did keep away any bugs that might be tempted by all that otherwise exposed flesh, but mostly what I liked was the way being wrapped in the blanket seemed to symbolize how the two of us together occupied our own private world in that moment.

Scott pressed up towards me slowly with very slight movements. His shaft seemed to swell inside me with each thrust. I leaned back a little, still keeping my arms around his neck, and began a very small rising and falling motion in his lap. I hardly pulled up at all, not wanting to lose the feeling of him so deep inside me. Pressed so tightly against him, I could rub my clit at the place where we were joined, and I gasped at the mixed sensations of pressure and smoothness.

Amid the swelling pleasure from our contact and our simple swaying together, I felt a storm of mixed emotions. I was bitter over the loss of years between us and was angry that I could find no one to blame for that. I wanted to be with Scott if only as an act of defiance against whatever fates and furies had driven us apart. I leaned in close and gripped Scott out of desperation. He returned my embrace with a muted moan.

I was elated over finding a real connection to my past - not just a casual connection but the one person who could really pull back the curtain and tell my story back to me. I rubbed my face against his until our lips found each other. Our kiss was punctuated with soft, breathy cries as my grinding became a little more vigorous.

I was confused over how to feel about his deception. He had lied to me - far more than just withholding the truth - and that had caused me a great deal of frustration and pain over the past several months. He had also, earlier, hurt me and been unfaithful. Even though this version of me hadn't experienced that betrayal directly, it still figured in our history and our relationship. I paused and put my head on his shoulder, facing away. My eyes were adjusting more to the darkness and I could discern the outline of the trees against the infinite sky. Scott held absolutely still for a moment.

I was sad, and I grieved over the pain we had both suffered after our divorce. I wondered if I had had second thoughts, if I had ever wanted to reconcile. I wondered if I had tried to escape the pain with more pills, just as Scott had. I felt sad for all the nights I had gone to bed alone, probably missing him in every way. I pushed down, pressing against him and making sure he filled me. I wanted to be reminded that I wasn't that woman anymore, I wasn't alone. He was here, filling me, holding me, supporting me. It was his breath hot on my shoulder. It was his lips finding my neck. It was his hands moving down to cradle the curves of my bottom, guiding my motions.

That sadness gave way to a moment of true contentment. It was a contentment tempered by the memory of loss, and that potent mix surged through my body, heightening my desire for him. Regardless of what had passed between us - years ago or weeks ago - I loved him now, and we were together. When the sun came up, would my heart agree that that was enough?

I let his arms move me, increasing the power of our thrusts. I was getting close, I needed his touch. Whimpering, I reached behind myself and grabbed his wrist. I pulled his hand between us and pushed it towards my need. Scott understood, and his arms pivoted until his thumb was circling its target.

I began crying out, knowing how close I was to experiencing the fruits of our labor. I put my hands on his face and stared at him. I felt the tension build and I saw Scott's brow wrinkling in his own beautiful agony. Suddenly, he stopped rubbing me and used both hands to force me all the way against himself. With a shout of release, he began to spray inside me. I was so close and would not be denied. Pressed tightly against him as he pulsed inside me, I gyrated my hips, finding that last bit of contact I needed. My breasts squished against his chest, igniting the explosion toward which we had been building.

We both shook, our lower bodies twitching and grinding. Together, we held on, arms around each other, riding out the storm of pleasure and catharsis. I cried out softly, surprised as each spasm overtook me. Coasting down, I felt Scott return the blanket to our shoulders. I had no memory of it slipping off. Though I knew it wasn't true, it seemed as if the crickets and all other night creatures had gone respectfully silent as we climaxed, only resuming their chatter as we caught our breath.

Suddenly, unbidden, Scott began to laugh. We were both panting, our foreheads touching. He couldn't see my quizzical look.

"Maurice Knight. Isn't that what she said your ex-husband's name was?"

"Are you serious?" I gasped. "What brought that on?"

"I just got it. I bet you were at the cafe on Clifford Street when she told you, the one next to the deli, right?"

"Oh my God, that's right... How did you...?"

"Maury's Night Club and Lounge. It's right across the street. She probably looked right over your shoulder and made up the name."

"Should I even ask why that popped into your head just now?"

"A song. We went there once, you and I did. Someone was singing on stage. I'd never heard the song before, but I've never forgotten it since - something about how... some people turn their memories into chains, while others turn them into wings." We sat there breathing heavily, heads still touching. Scott's hands moved slowly up and down my back. "I want to make more wings with you."

I laughed lightly. It was a little sappy, but meaningful and touching nonetheless. "Tonight was a good start," I assured him. Then, with a quick kiss to his sweaty forehead, I moved off his lap and stood up. Scott gasped as his sensitive head slipped out of my depths. Then he stood up, picking up our clothes before leaving the ground. If anyone had been around to see it, we would have made quite a sight on our way back to the cabin: both naked, one with an armful of clothes and the other wrapped only in a blanket. I felt his spend leaking past my entrance and dripping down my thigh. There had been no question of "protection," in any sense of the word. I wasn't concerned. Just like that perfect moment in Thailand, this had been so perfect, so right.

Once we stepped inside, Scott tossed the clothes to the floor then quickly grabbed me around the waist. I squealed in surprise as he picked me up. Still clutching the blanket, I wrapped it around both our bodies as he carried me to bed. Laying me gently on the mattress, he crawled into bed next to me. Sheet, fleece, and a lover's warm embrace surrounded me as I drifted off.

*******

It amazed me how easily I rose before the sun here in the mountains. Maybe it was the birds beginning to chirp that signaled to my subconscious mind that night was nearly done. I rolled onto my side and propped myself up on one elbow. The cool sheet slipped off my breasts and my nipples hardened when they were so suddenly exposed to the slight chill of the room. I looked at the man sleeping soundly next to me, his face barely visible in the pre-dawn gray.

"You never were an early riser," I mused.

I found a shirt and sweatpants to wear before starting the coffee maker. Soon I was down by the lake, dangling my feet off the dock and watching the sunrise. It was inconceivable to me that I wouldn't stay with Scott. I had been planning that before I learned about our history, and nothing I had learned since then had affected my intentions. But I needed time to think about how I felt in light of new revelations and about what next steps were in our future.

I was afraid. That was one thing I hadn't expected. Scott had chased away so many of my fears, but the thought of being with him again made me anxious. I had to think about why that might be. By the time the sun was visible in the sky, I understood that most of what bothered me was the same fear that drove me in and out of the arms of strangers for all those months. It was the fear that anyone who got to know me - even Scott - would realize that there wasn't really a person for them to know. Only the shell of a person remained.

Scott had pushed past that once. But this was different. Sure, he was patient, but what about in a year? In five years? In twenty years? When would he get tired of me not remembering our past? Of not remembering Reuben? What then? When he realizes that that treasury of shared memories is something I can only access through him, will he finally realize I'm not the woman he once loved?

My thoughts were interrupted by the gentle thumping of Scott's footsteps behind me. Holding two mugs of coffee, he handed me one, saying, "I thought you could probably use a refill by now."

I took it from him and said, "Thanks. How long have you been up?"

"About five minutes," he answered. "But if I know you... and I do... you've been out here since the crack of dawn."

"Just before that," I corrected him.

"May I join you?" he asked. "Or...?"

"It's fine," I smiled. "You can stay."

Sitting next to me on the dock, he said, "I'll try not to read too much into that statement."

I crinkled my brow, not catching his meaning at first. Then I realized how I'd worded my invitation. "That too, I think," I assured him.

He exhaled loudly.

We sat side by side, arms touching, sipping from our coffee mugs. The day was beginning to show hints of the warmth it had in store.

"Is the lake swimmable?" I asked, thinking of how nice a dip would be if it got hot.

"Anything is swimmable if you fall out of a boat," he dead-panned.

I nudged him with my elbow and said, "You know what I mean."

"I never liked the thought of sharing it with the snakes and leeches, so I don't think of it that way. It's a little dirty, but otherwise safe, I guess."

I hummed in understanding.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence I said, "I can't shake the sense that fate has given us a second chance."

Scott stayed silent and let me think through how to put into words what I wanted to say. I could tell he knew the best way to have a conversation with me.

"The old me told you I couldn't forgive you because I could never forget what you'd done. And yet here we are. I've been forced to forget, like a big reset button has been pressed on our lives. I don't feel like I have the right to forgive you; I don't feel like I was the one hurt by what you did. But for what it's worth, I do forgive you."

"Thank you," he whispered, clearing his throat.

"I guess... I guess knowing about what happened is different from remembering it. If I remembered experiencing it, I might feel differently. But it just doesn't affect me in the same way, so I don't feel like my forgiveness is that meaningful."

"It still means something," he interjected. "Much more to me than to you, I think."

"But what hurts me more - this me, not the old me - is just the overall deception you've been a part of for months now. I wonder if I would have preferred for you to just have been up-front with me. To say, 'Hey, I'm Reuben. I used to be special to you. I'd like the chance to be that guy again.'"

"I'm sorry about the deception. Really, I am. And if I had thought for one moment that the direct approach would have worked, I would have gone for it."

"You were so sure it wouldn't have worked?" I asked skeptically.

"Who wants to hear from an ex-husband they don't know anything about?"

"Good point."

"And best case scenario, let's imagine you had given me a shot. What was it like hanging out with friends and family after your accident?"

I shuddered. "Awkward. Stressful. Uncomfortable. Lots of expectations laid on me. Jokes I didn't get. Always feeling like an outsider and a disappointment."

"Yeah, I did my research on that," he said, giving me the first indication that he had put some thought into getting back into my life. "It would have been an uphill battle for both of us, one that you probably wouldn't have been highly motivated to fight."

"And I did launch a surprise attack before you had your battle plan ready..."

"Too true," he agreed. "But all I knew for sure was that, one way or another, I had to woo you."

"Woo me?" I smiled.

"Woo you. Yes. If I could get the new you to love me for who I was, then I thought we might actually have a shot at making this work. But that... Vicky," he said her name with disgust, "really set things back."

"I have to say, you're actually making sense. And I could probably second-guess all your decisions in retrospect. You could have told me sooner, you could have handled something better, whatever. But what I've decided is that I'm not going to focus on the details but on your heart. I believe... I choose to believe that you really love me and that you weren't acting selfishly. I think you really had my... our... best interest at heart. That's enough for me right now."