Lost and Found Ch. 01

I shook my head to clear the annoying depression that was threatening to cloud the evening. "Two, please," I replied. She gathered together a couple menus and asked me to follow her. My stomach dropped as I saw she was leading me to THE table. The one that was ours, always ours. We had laughed and cried at that table. She had ripped my heart to shreds at that table. "Oh, God," I spit. "Any other table but that one!" The hostess stopped and looked at me, confused. "I'm sorry," I pleaded, "I just need another table besides that one in the corner. Please." She shrugged and led me to a table in the middle of the room.

As I settled into my seat and ordered drinks, my eyes kept creeping over to the accentuated seat in the corner. I couldn't stop the painful memories from overwhelming me.

I looked at my phone for the millionth time. Where is she? Amber never missed our weekly dinner date. It was something we both looked forward to all week long. It didn't make sense that she was almost forty minutes late. Especially since she hadn't called me. My mind was playing situations in my head, and my panic was getting a little out of hand.

I was just about to leave to search the streets for her car, imagining it to be a hunk of twisted metal, wrapped around a tree. But as I was reaching for my purse to leave, I caught sight of her charging through the doors. I nearly jumped out of my seat to rush to her, but something about the look on her face stopped me. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. She plopped down onto the seat across from me. Her eyes were red and puffy, her mascara smudged. My heart beat furiously with dread as I said nothing and waited for her explanation.

She took a steadying breath. "Something happened." The hysterical note in her voice made me want to vomit. My hands began to tremble. "Monica found out." She stopped to make sure I followed.

"About...us?" I didn't think it was all that bad. I mean, it was bound to come out eventually.

"Yes, about us." She looked at me so sadly, I felt like crying myself. "That's not all though. She called Matt." That I knew would be different. Amber's husband was probably pissed beyond reason. I shook my head, trying to grasp the situation. "Rachel, he's so angry. He... he wants me to move to California with him so Jeremiah can have a normal life."

"Well that's stupid. You've been trying to divorce him for a year and now he expects you to just forget everything and move to California?" I might have found that humorous were it not for the look on Amber's face.

"Rach," she whispered. "I'm going to do it."

That stopped me in my tracks. "What? Why?"

"Jeremiah...He deserves to have a normal childhood, Rachel. He deserves to have a mother AND a father. I can't put him through school with 'two mommies;' those kids will rip him apart."

The room felt like it was spinning. "And how is it better to raise a kid around his drug-peddling father than to raise him with two moms who love him?" I heard the disbelief and anger creeping into my voice, but my shock prevented me from holding it back.

She frowned and played with the saltshaker absently. "Matt says he's been clean for almost two months now. He says he's done with the drugs if I'll just bring his son to him again."

"Matt doesn't deserve you or Jeremiah," I nearly snarled. I could feel it; I was about to snap and either start screaming or crying -- I couldn't tell which. It was completely unnatural to separate from Amber; she was my soul mate, damn it. "Can't we at least talk about this?"

"Rachel," she crooned quietly, her voice breaking. "Jeremiah is already getting confused about you. He adores you, and you're like a second mother to him. I can't afford to let this go on any longer, for his sake." She stared into my eyes where I couldn't hide the pain from her. "I love you so much. But I want my family back. You and I...we were never meant to last."

The tears came so fast and heavy they took me by surprise. My chest felt like it had been ripped open, and each sob only broke me further. Ever since childhood, whenever I was in pain, I ran away; it was a habit I had never been able to break. In the past couple years I had always ran to Amber for comfort. But since she was the source of my pain, that option was not available. I snatched up my purse and bolted to my car.

I drove without a destination for hours, feeling lonely for the first time since Amber entered my life.

It was nearly morning when I finally arrived at home. As I walked up to the front door, I noticed the lights were all off, and I was glad. I didn't want to have to talk to Amber any more that night; I was too emotionally drained. When I unlocked the door and walked in, however, my bedroom light switched on. Amber marched out in her pajamas, her face still a red, puffy mess.

"Where on earth have you been? You had me worried to death, not answering my calls!" I think she was trying to come off as angry, but she just looked frightened. Frightened and sad. I ignored her and took off my shoes, too tired and drained to think of a proper response. "Please," she begged throwing her arms around my neck, "Please don't give me the silent treatment." My arms found their way around her waist without me thinking about it. I pulled Amber close and held her for a few minutes, neither of us speaking. I began to pretend desperately that this was all just a nightmare. Amber would never really leave me.

It was then that I noticed the stack of boxes in the living room, effectively bringing me back to reality. I pulled away from Amber and walked over to the boxes to investigate the solidity of the world I was now living in. I ran one finger along the side of a box and stated quietly, "You've packed a lot already."

"Well, that's about half of it. Matt bought us plane tickets. We're flying out tomorrow afternoon, and Monica's going to send the rest of our stuff next week." My aching heart dropped another inch or two at the realization that tonight was my last night with Amber.

I turned and pulled her body close to mine, determined to not waste another second. She began to object, but I shut her up by kissing her roughly. She started to push against me, trying to free herself from my embrace, but this night was not one where I would be denied. I was hurt, angry, and emotionally raw. And I would express that to her the way that we had always best communicated. I half-walked, half-pushed her backwards into our bedroom, never releasing her. I trapped her up against one wall, even as she protested, and I kissed her passionately, knowing this was the last memory we would have together.

I poured my heart and soul into my kiss, and Amber soon responded by doing the same. All the pain, the unfairness of the world, all the fear and longing, we communicated everything we felt in our kiss. Amber's hands grasped my hair tightly, and I responded by biting her neck so hard, there was sure to be a mark in the morning. She gasped and flinched before clutching my hair even harder, making my eyes water in pain. I lost any sense of gentleness then and ripped her clothes off roughly, not caring if it hurt her. I barely had yanked her panties off before she was tearing at my clothes too.

When we were both naked, I pushed her onto the bed we had shared for nearly a year. Her nails dug canyons into my back as I used my teeth to imprint myself on her body. I was determined to leave my mark on her body for her to take back to that scumbag husband of hers. Let him try and touch her when she's covered in scratches and bruises from my teeth and fingernails. For all that I threw at her, she came back at me just as hard, even to the point where I realized I was bleeding a little.

My fingers found their way to her pussy and I stroked her roughly, my teeth still scraping the skin of her chest and stomach. I knew that pussy even better than my own, and within minutes she was gasping and flailing around as I finger-fucked her harder than I had ever dared before. As I increased my speed, she began to moan loudly, her body twisting around on the bed. I clenched her hair in my free hand as I watched her body bead with sweat, her pussy muscles gripping my fingers so hard, I had to force them to keep their rhythm inside her steady.

"God! Fuck!" She shouted as I rammed my fingers inside her. I figured it had to be really good for her to drop the f-bomb like that. Her neck and cheeks started to flush and I knew she was close to a really big orgasm. Finally she screamed my name as she came on my fingers, her muscles shuddering.

I don't think she was even through with her orgasm before she pushed me onto my back, her fingers sliding into my wet pussy roughly. She bit my stomach hard once before lowering her face to my clit. Her tongue lashed out forcefully at my clit, making me wince with the sensitivity of it. I accepted the pain though, and her fingers expertly stroked up enough pleasure to counteract her roughness with my clit. Soon it was my body thrashing about on the bed, and the pleasure won out over the pain as I came hard, my entire body tightening with the strain of my orgasm.

Amber crawled up beside me and pulled me into her arms. For a long time neither of us said anything; we just lay there pressed up together and staring into each other's eyes. I didn't understand how Amber could choose to leave me. The fact that she could hurt me so deeply I couldn't express it in words. But as I looked deep into her eyes, I began to understand that her choice wasn't about her happiness. It was about her son.

"Aren't you going to beg me to stay or something?" Her question split the silence in half.

"Would it make a difference?" She shook her head in reply to my question. "Then I don't see the point in fighting about it." I sighed. "I want to. I want to beg you not to leave my side. I want to kiss you until you're thoroughly convinced your lips will never feel right against anyone else's ever again. But what would that prove? I love you. I want you to be happy. If staying with me would make you unhappy, then how selfish would I be to ask you to stay just for me?"

"Rach," she began to cry quietly. "I don't want to leave, you know. I have to. For Jeremiah. I don't want to imagine my life without you. I hate the thought of waking in the morning without you next to me. I know my heart is never going to recover from this, and I already know that my lips won't feel right against anyone else's. But my son is my life. I'm a mother. And we don't get to choose our happiness over our kids." She reached out and caressed my cheek with her hand. "I love you, and I'm so sorry that I'm hurting you. I wish it didn't have to be like this."

My own tears felt hot against my cheeks, and I tried to swallow the lump in my throat without success. "I understand," I whispered. "Am I still going to be able to call you?" I knew the answer but I figured it was worth a shot.

"I think it would be better if we just cut things off entirely." I nodded.

"Well, if tomorrow I have to try to exist without you, then I suppose I have tonight to memorize everything about you."

And I did. I lay there in our bed memorizing every fleck of gold that danced in her eyes, every curve of her body, the way she smelled, the way she tasted. I soaked in every detail I could because I knew that there would never be another love. Maybe, I thought, maybe I can stretch out my memories of her just enough to last the rest of my life.

The next day I watched sullenly as she and her son packed their baggage into the trunk of a taxi. When they finished, I picked Jeremiah up and held him tight for a minute. "I'm gonna miss you, Little Guy."

"I love you, Aunt Rachie," he proclaimed, burying his face into my shoulder.

My throat constricted. "I love you too, Little Guy." I helped him into his car seat in the cab. "Take care of your mommy for me, okay?" He nodded seriously and then smiled at me. I figured he didn't quite understand that this was a forever-goodbye. It was probably better that he didn't anyhow. I shut the door and turned to Amber.

We stared at each other for a few moments, trying to figure out how to say goodbye after all that we had been through. "Well," I started.

"Well," she agreed. I pulled her into my arms for what I knew was the last time, and I held her tightly.

I felt my heart rip in two. She was the Yin to my Yang, partner of my heart and soul, and separating from her was very much like dying. "I love you, Amber Marie," I whispered through the tears that wouldn't stop running down my cheeks.

"And I love you, Rachel Leigh," she replied. We clung to each other for what may have been minutes but felt like far too short of a time for me.

"We're going to miss our flight if we don't leave now," she stated, pulling away.

"And that would be bad, how," I asked almost playfully. She smiled sadly before kissing me softly on the lips. She looked deep into my eyes one last time before opening the door to the taxi. I reluctantly allowed her hand to slip from mine as she climbed into the taxi and out of my life.

Before the door shut, I heard Jeremiah ask the question that would linger in my mind for months. "Mommy, why can't Aunt Rachie come with us?" And then the yellow car was pulling away. I watched it drive out of my sight, carrying my heart and soul with it.

"Rachel?" Amber's voice pulled me out of my reverie.

"Oh," I jumped and wiped away the wet streaks on my cheeks. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you come in."

She took her seat quietly as she looked at me with concern. "Are you okay," she asked, worried.

"Yeah, yeah. I was just...thinking." I watched her eyes drift over to the corner and I knew I wouldn't have to explain my tears to her. "Um," I cleared my throat, "I ordered your favorite." I motioned at the glass of wine in front of her. She smiled and took a sip, and I could see all the memories rushing back to her as well.

"Do you remember the time that guy tried to get us to come home with him for a threesome," she asked with a smile on her face. I remembered and I laughed out loud.

"I couldn't believe he had the audacity to walk up to our table and ask if we'd like 'a little dick with our wine!'" She laughed too.

"And you said, 'If I were you I wouldn't brag about having a little dick!' Ha!" We both chuckled at the memory. "Ahh," she sighed, "but you were always quick with the comebacks. I was never as witty as you."

"Not true," I proclaimed. "Remember the time when you were short money for your phone bill and you saw a guy drop a twenty at the gas station? You totally pocketed his money, and when you told me about it, I asked you why you didn't just ask me for the money. Your response? 'No, no, it's okay. The Lord provides!'" She giggled and covered her face in embarrassment.

The dinner went on with us reminiscing and laughing about so many memories that we had together. An hour flew by, and then another, and I began to feel guilty about holding up the table for so long. I could tell Amber was thinking it was time to leave too by the way she started fidgeting. It was now or never to try to wrench a little more time from her.

"Amber, I was wondering," I began, "I still want to hear more about Jeremiah and stuff, so would you want to-"

"Yes," she cut my sentence off.

"Wait, you didn't let me fin-"

"Yes."

"But you don't know what I'm ask-"

"Look, Rachel. I'm not ready to say goodbye just yet, so whatever you're proposing, the answer is 'yes.'"

I laughed at her eagerness. "Okay then, Vegas it is," I teased.

Her eyes grew wide at my mention of the Sinful City. "Wait, what?"

"I'm just kidding, Love. C'mon, let's go to my house."

I started to stand up, but she stopped me with an apprehensive look. "Hold on...my sister. If she drives by and sees my rental car there, she'll tell Matt and he won't take it well."

"Okay so we'll leave your car here and I'll bring you back to get it later." She deliberated momentarily. "It will be okay, I promise," I reassured her.

She took a deep breath and nodded.

Twenty-five minutes later, I eased my car into the driveway of the same house Amber, Jeremiah, and I had shared four years ago. When I cut the engine, Amber made no move to get out of the car. I looked at her and waited patiently. "It looks different," she stated simply.

"Well, I painted the house a different color and did a little landscaping." She nodded slowly and opened her car door. I followed suit and led her to the front door. As we entered the house, her wide eyes took in the living room.

"You...you redecorated," she exclaimed. I almost laughed.

"It was either that or move!" She looked at me with a startled expression. I explained quietly, "Every day I would come home and expect to see you sitting on the couch or in the kitchen making dinner. Your smell lingered for such a long time. I thought it was going to drive me crazy." I walked to the kitchen and fetched a bottle of wine and two glasses. "At first I let it consume me. I wallowed in the memories and locked myself away in them. I couldn't sleep without your pillow tucked under my chin." I poured the wine. "But then one day it hit me -- if I was ever going to move on, I had to let you go. And to do so, I had to chase your ghost out of my house forever." I handed her a glass, which she accepted almost robotically, her face blank. "So I got new furniture and rearranged every single room in the house, until it felt new again." I sipped my wine for a moment and looked at my surroundings. "Which I'll probably have to do again after tonight," I muttered.

I chanced a look at Amber; she was staring blankly at the glass of wine in her hand, processing what I had told her. Finally she looked at me with such a sad expression, my heart felt like it was being squeezed in my chest. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "You must hate me for hurting you so badly."

I moved close enough to her to put my hand gently on her cheek. "I could never hate you," I said thickly. "Whether we're thousands of miles apart, whether it has been minutes or years since we've seen each other, I will always love you." A single tear dripped down her cheek and I used my thumb to wipe it away. I took a step closer and rested my forehead against hers. "I'm yours, and you're mine," I whispered. "No amount of time or distance will ever change that."

She raised her head to look me in the eyes. I stared at those gorgeous blue eyes, filled with such raw emotion and longing. Those golden flecks that I had tried so hard to imprint upon my memory danced behind tears that threatened to overflow. She placed a hand around the back of my head and gently pulled my lips to hers.

It felt like coming home. My lips remembered hers, and the pieces of my broken heart started to meld together instantly. My head swam with the familiarity of her taste, and my hands moved on their own, wrapping her up in their warmth. Her tears mixed with mine on our cheeks as we held each other hostage with a love that burned as bright and strong as ever before.

Pulling away, she slipped her hand in mine and led me quietly into my bedroom, our wine forgotten in the kitchen. She turned on the light and looked around, probably noting all the differences from her memory. Then she turned the light back off, turned back to me, and pulled my body close to hers. "Amber," I said quietly. I wanted to tell her not to do something she'd regret, that as much as I longed for her, I didn't want to hurt her. I tried to speak, but the words were stuck in my throat as my eyes locked on hers.

"It's okay," she said, addressing everything I couldn't verbalize. "I know what I'm doing." With that she pressed her lips to mine again and I was lost again in a world that was painfully pleasant. Her fingers wove their way into my hair, as mine found her waist and stomach. All of the doubts, the fears, and the worries that I knew would plague me hours later melted away as her lips caressed mine softly, agonizingly. My fingers pressed gently against her soft, warm flesh, and she moaned out my name.