June floundered in dirty water over her head, flailing upward to find
air. Finally her head broke surface and she gasped for breath but emerged, instead, among
a sea of sheets and pillows. The room was dark, lightless and June gasped at
the sudden feel of warm arms tightening around her. It was only when he spoke
with a soothing, low, thick voice that she realized it was Jon embracing her.
“It’s alright, baby…shhh… I’m here.”
Still hugging her tightly with one arm, he stretched the other one to
turn the bedside lamp on and looked at her: her hair, damp with cold sweat,
clung to the soft angles of her face and her green street-light eyes looked at
him as if she didn’t believe he was really there. Her feet and hands felt icy. Without
saying a word she drew a troubled breath and snuggled against his bare chest, one
hand nested in the valley between his chiseled pecs. He responded by pulling
her closer and stroke her hair as he spoke.
“Another one?”, his question was more like a statement, since June just
didn’t seem to be able to shake off the bad dreams she’d been having since
they’d returned from Hong Kong. She nodded silently and passed a trembling hand
over her face.
“Wanna talk about it?”, he insisted, but June’s response was a silent
shake of her head as Jon tried to think of a way to distract her from the
disturbing thoughts he knew were surely swirling in her mind.
“Talk to me, baby. Don’t hold it inside…”, he tried convincingly, becoming
less sure that she would tell him with every moment of silence that passed by. His
hands arched to run down her bare back, then over her hips covered by her flower-patterned panties.
Thus far, June had learnt how to separate her memories from her bad
dreams, and it wasn’t that she didn’t want to share her thoughts with Jon,
after all, she knew that no matter how deep inside herself she hid, but Jesus, inviting
him in now would be like having a guest over at a house where everything had been turned upside down. She needed to think first.
“I’m gonna get some tea”, she announced, gently disengaging herself from
his arms. “Go back to sleep”, she sniffed as she sat on the edge of the bed.
She reached for the matching spaghetti-strap tank-top that lay on the
upholstered black chair by the side of the bed and, after putting it on, moved to stand up, but two hands on her hips kept her butt firmly into place.
“No, June, baby”, his voice
was firm and she felt him move behind her on the bed. “This HAS GOT to stop…”,
he said next to her ear before his hands seized her shoulders and made her turn to
face him. “Look at you, you pick at your meals, you’re muddled with lack of
sleep, you wake up whimpering or shaking or screaming…Christ…this can’t be good
for you or the baby…, think about it.”
He was damn right, and when Jon was right, he would let you know it
until you wanted to scream. For a long moment, she stared at him with a deep
frown of internal struggle: as frightening as her nightmares/thoughts were, how
Jon melted her defenses frightened her even more.
She drew in a long breath and, with an effort, she pushed the words out
of her mouth in a barely audible voice.
“It’s just something I need to figure out…on my own”, she spoke softly, caressing his cheek.
“But it’s we now, remember? And
sometimes we have to admit that there are things we can’t face alone”, he
pursed his lips and knitted his eyebrows. “It’s hard for me, too, to see you
like this”. If he knew more he would know what to say, but as it was, all he
could do was keep trying, though he knew that June wouldn’t voice her thoughts
until every piece of the puzzle fell into place inside her head.
June turned her head and gave him a small, appreciative smile. “I know, believe
me…but these past few days have been…quite a lot to take in, you know?”, she
chuckled in spite of herself: it was more like she had been thrown head-first
in a life that no long ago was an impossible future. She raked a hand through
her still slightly damp hair, letting the light-brown bangs cascade down either
side of her face.
Jon couldn’t help but a slight cringe to draw on his face: maybe it
hadn’t been the best idea to pack the apartment with practically every member of the Bongiovi clan on Sunday. June was well acquainted with everyone in Jon's family and the transition towards the new circumstances were almost seemless, but the fact that June was constrained to the couch, therefore concentrating even more attention, had put her nerve to the test.
"I'm a little overwhelmed, that's all." Not that Jon hovered or pressed her in any way, but since she herself couldn't go too far, she was somewhat looking forward to him going away for a couple of days so she could have some room to try and put her thoughts back into place. "I'm working on it".
“Come 'ere”,
he whispered and leant back on the pillows against the headboard, pulling up the sheets and so she could slide under them and lean against his chest, wrapping one arm around his thin waist. He covered both of them up to the waist with the soft sheets and circled her shoulders with his arms, his hands laced on her middle back. After a moment, he expressed his frustration with a sharp sigh. “You sure there's nothing I can do? I hate to have to leave you like this”,
"You can't save me from myself, Jon", she chortled ironically but also with frustration at the tangled ball of threads that was her own mind at that moment.
“Tell me about it", he snorted and heard his father’s words in his mind: Jonny, there are things that a woman keeps only to herself. Sometimes she might share it with another woman, but never with a man. No matter how deep your connection is. "Can you at least promise that you’re gonna be a good girl and take care of yourself?”, he asked
against her hair, not without a certain resignation at his helplessness.
She nodded silently.
“Honest? Not like the last time I left you?”, he teased mildly, and craned
his head to look down to her, shaking her slightly to emphasize his words.
“Cross my heart”
Unable to draw the cross on her own chest, that was crashed against
Jon’s, she draw it in the air with her finger.
“I’m gonna be alright…”, she added. “I might stay at John’s tomorrow
night...now that mom and dad are gone”
Jon groaned his disagreement. “You should stay here, in bed…rest some
more, wait until your leg heals. It’ll be nice to find you here when I get back
home”.
June’s mock protest came out in the form of a sharp blow of air, and she
raised her gaze to Jon’s, propping her chin on his left pec. “Bored to death?”.
Jon chuckled, pleased at June’s change of mood towards a lighter one.
“What are you gonna do at your brother’s apartment that you can’t do
here? He’s coming with me…and my
Nintendo is better than his”, he teased, biting the tip of his tongue and
making June laugh softly and roll her eyes at his competitive, childish remark.
“I’m planning on meeting with the girls in the afternoon… it’s better if
we meet at John’s place”
“But this is your house, now. You can bring ‘em ‘ere”, he suggested,
stroking her cheek reassuringly.
“No, it’s not my house…this is
technically your house”, she
countered softly.
“Well, technically, my
apartment is my children’s as well, and one of them is living inside you right
now so technically, this is your house, too. Or better yet…this is our house. Are we clear?”, he finished
with a faux-authoritarian tone, but his words were clearly heartfelt.
“Yes, Sir”, June tried a playful tone, but her voice betrayed the
lump in her throat. “’sides…”, she resumed the more playful side of their conversation, “…with
what face am I gonna look at you and tell you we spoiled your expensive carpet
with Margaritas? John’s already a mess so I don’t mind”, she shrugged.
Jon laughed throatily, knowing that the hardest drink June would be
taking was probably green tea, and also that any attempt at convincing her to
change her mind would be nothing but an exercise in futility. “You know that if
you look at me with the same face that I have in front of me right now I could
forgive pretty much everything”, he said with a pucker, tracing her silky lower
lip with his calloused index, forcing June to instinctively suck her lip into
her mouth to avoid the ticklish feeling.
For a moment she stared at him, thinking that it just wasn't normal to look that good after being woken up in the middle of the night. Then, noticing how his pupils became dark fire behind his lowered lids, she chuckled softly.
“You need to sleep, baby…”,
she suggested with an amused smirk at his seductive stare. It wasn't precisely the middle of the night: the digital alarm clock on the nightstand read 6:03 a.m. and Jon would be resuming his solo
tour schedule later that day. They had probably had no more than three hours of
sleep, and the sunlight was already making its way into
the bedroom through the edges of the curtains.
"Nooo...I need to be with you now, make you feel better", he whispered suggestively, tightening his embrace, making June chuckle softly and press a kiss against his pec where her cheek had been a moment before. “And I love it when you call me baby, by the way”, he said, clasping her head with one hand and pulling it closer to his lips so he could press a wet kiss against her forehead.
June couldn't help but a small, appreciative moan to rumble in her throat at Jon's affectionate gesture.
“You know...baby...", June began with a sweet, soft tone, lifting her face so she could dive into the deep blue sea of his eyes. "I’ve been thinking about going back to the cabin, spend a few days
there before it gets too cold”
“Deal", he replied hastily. "I could use a little rest after the tour is
over, have you all for myself”
“You already have me all for yourself...", she clarified with a soft chortle. "But I didn’t say you could come with me”, she teased.
“Really? And what happened the last time you tried to hide from me over
there?", he challenged playfully, sparing no arrogance. "I got there first, ha”, he finished with a grin.
June buried her face on Jon's shoulder to silence her soft laughter but
sighed meaningfully in the end.
Her hands went now to his face and he caught her wrist gently in his
hand, meeting her eyes with a gaze that made her bristle: it frightened and amazed her how he could love her the way he did, and how she herself was able to love someone that much. What defense could she offer?
Lifting herself slightly up, June pressed her lips on the beauty mark on his right cheek, next to his nose, as she felt his hands snake tightly around her. When their lips met, the kiss was
hungry, almost desperate, and their tongues seemed to have a life of their own.
They only parted for an instant to allow Jon to pull her tank-top over her head. Then he gently rolling her over so she lay on her back, and with one hand he gently pulled her panties down her legs. and crawled on top of her. Cupping her
head with both hands, he resumed the kiss and flowed into her already wet, wet core,
filling her, starting a fire inside her that burned all the disturbing visions
and replaced them with fresh new images of pure, utter bliss.
…
In the edge of consciousness she felt him kiss her on the cheek and
leave the bed, but was helplessly fast asleep the second she rolled over.
When she finally woke up, she couldn’t get
herself to open her eyes for a few minutes. No bad dream had woken this time, but her body told her it was still not enough so she tried to remain in bed to have some rest, if not mental, at least physical. Eyes still closed, she wrapped herself
tighter in the sheets that still smelled of sex and Jon’s after-shave. Groaning
softly at the comforting sensation, she turned to his side of the bed and
pulled his pillow to her with the purpose of burying her face in it and inhaling
whatever was left of him, but the sound of crumbling paper made her snap her
eyes open.
‘Tonight
I'll meet you in my dreams. See you son. Love, Me’ read the note. It was his unmistakable minute, uneven
handwriting.
The note made her heart skip a beat. For him, for the baby and for herself, she had to get her shit together.
She started by showering, then forced herself to eat a bowl of yogurt and muesli. Despite her determination at changing her frame of mind, she felt light-headed and weak and simply fussy: on top of the morning sickness, however mild it was, the injured muscle hurt and the scar
was still a little tender and itchy. She had to wait four more days for the
stitches to be removed. By the look of it, the scar would probably stay as a
reminder of the danger she’d exposed herself to. As if she needed any more.
She had arranged for the girls to arrive at John’s place at 6 p.m., so
she still had a few hours ahead of her. The previous days she had tried to read, but couldn't get past five pages, not even of her favorite books. However, today she felt ready to face something she had managed to avoid until now.
Having lost her cell-phone in the rush of the flight from Lipeng’s
village, June had kept her important communications through fixed numbers,
John’s or Jon’s, completely neglecting her e-mail inbox. First, she made a mental note to buy a new cell-phone. She had the impulse to call her assistant, but remembered that she was still in Hong Kong helping out at the office. Afterwards, she double-clicked on the Outlook Express icon on
Jon’s computer and adjusted the settings so it would download her Yahoo!
account correspondence. It took the program a few minutes for the program to complete the operation, but as the list grew bigger and bigger, June’s
jaw began to drop at some of the names that appeared in the sender’s column. It
was a blast from the past.
The first one she opened was Adrianna’s, her high-school friend whose
father had taken them to that Bon Jovi concert back in 1987, when June and Jon
first met, a little more than ten years ago.
I know we haven’t talked in a while…I have to admit
that I was shocked by the news, but you look so happy, was the first sentence of the e-mail, enough to make June shed a thick
melancholy tear. It turned out that Adrianna had been married for four years,
had a two-year-old daughter and had been hired by the New York branch of
Deutsch Bank. She’d be moving to
Manhattan in less than a month. Another tear, but of happiness now, ran down June’s
cheek as she wrote her reply.
Receiving one from Michael, her high-school sweet-heart, seemed like a
really bad joke considering he had practically avoided acknowledging she ever
existed since they’d broken up, but the content sounded pretty much like
Michael.
Saw the news. Surreal. Glad to hear you’re OK.
As brief as it
was, the small gesture was somewhat moving in the end, it must have taken him quite a lot of effort. Nevertheless, she replied as
plainly.
Winston seemed to be pretending nothing had happened since the last time they
saw each other, when he stormed out of her house after acting like a complete
asshole.
You crazy girl! Do I have to read the newspapers to
find out what you’re up to? I still have the same phone number! I’m flying to
NY next week, let me take you out to dinner.
She rolled her eyes, she didn’t have space in her mind to deal with it
right now, and it was time to check up on Lipeng and his family, who were
staying at a hotel in Greenwich Village. In his voice she could hear the
bitterness that arises when someone leaves a place that is specially cherished to
them but that can no longer be so. Even before hanging up the phone, June
already knew what she had to do: they had nothing, and she had everything, even
more than she could ask for. And it was not only them, June also thought about
how many others might be in the same situation as Lipeng had been, afraid or
unable to talk or leave the country. There were also those who did risk it and
made it to the other side alive, only to live the life of a poor refugee, an
outcast, with no chance to offer their families the better, brighter future
they had envisioned.
When she finished the rather lengthy conversation with her lawyer, she
could barely hold back her excitement: it would be her Christmas present to the
family, and the least she felt she could do after all Lipeng had taught her,
after all he’d made her see through his words and his ideas. Yes, it was the
right thing to do.
She was completely absorbed in going through the rest of her messages when Celia knocked on the desk door, well past 1 p.m., to offer her lunch. June's appetite was still playing hide-and-seek, but she was able to power through the chicken salad and stuffed mushrooms.
At 5.34 p.m., she headed for the door.
“Are you sure you can walk Ms. June?”, asked Celia as June passed by the
kitchen door with a grimace of pain on her face that silently answered the question. June accepted the curly-haired woman’s help all the way to the end of the
hall.
Propped against the dark-wooden door of the reception’s wardrobe was
what looked like a white, organic-looking cane. It was wider on the bottom,
with a thin, elegant body and became wider again at the top transforming into a
sort of stylized white petal that apparently embraced the wrist while the
handle was shaped like the elegant bud of an abstract white flower. She took it
with one hand and undid the red bow tied around the base of the “petal”
before reading the note attached to it. To
use ONLY until you reach the sidewalk. Call a cab.
She examined it for another minute, discovering the small, dark-gray
letters of the brand Starck. June was familiar with the work of the famous
French designer and the item she was holding in her hand made perfect sense
with the rest of his work. She shook her head, containing a chuckle: the fact
that her leg hurt just a little was barely an excuse for such a valuable
present. A present she wasn’t even hoping to have to use for too long, in the end, but she admitted that at least it would make of the new stage in her recovery a less awkward
experience.
A couple of tears were shed when June and her friends reunited at her brother's apartment, but the ghost
of what could have happened quickly left, and in came the excitement and
enjoyment that characterized the little group’s get-togethers.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you again, June, but maybe these can”, Hayley spoke cheerfully with
a wide, white grin, lifting the cover of the white box after they finally sat
down around the impressive tempered-glass table of John’s apartment
dining-room. June almost squeaked with excitement at being faced with Hayley’s
trademark bisques and quickly extended her hand towards the box, but the blonde let the cover drop before June could get a hold of one of the
pastries.
“No, this is for dessert…AND…are you still gonna pretend NOTHING has
changed?”, her tone was half-playful, half-serious. She had, at first, been
somewhat hurt by June hiding the juicy story, but in the end, she had
understood and even respected her friend’s decision. “When last I looked you
were absolutely single and moving to an exotic country, now a little over four
months afterwards you’re back in New York expecting the child of a
multi-millionaire - married for all we know - rock-god? Nuh-uh, girl. Not gonna
happen. Spill the beans”, she finished with a tone of mock-defiance, earning
herself a loud chorus of support from the rest of the girls. In reality, none of
them had let June’s decision dent their friendship.
June burst out in laughter and shook her head, then smiled conspiratorially
at Diane, who’d been gracious enough to pretend she had learnt at the same time
as the rest. At least the first part, cause June had kept mum about her and Jon's reconciliation.
“Why don’t we set the table first and I’ll tell you over dinner? I’m
starving”, was June's plea.
“We will set the table, you will sit down”, Diane commanded
lightly as she moved for her injured friend to sit on one of the cream
upholstered chairs by the dining table.
“Starck…”, Laura, who was an interior designer, exclaimed appreciatively
as she took June’s stylish cane from her hand after she sat down. “Only he can
make a cane look like a work of art”, she added as her eyes took in every slick
line of the glossy white item, and her hands felt the feathery lightness of its
weight. She returned it to June before speaking again. “You don’t have to say anything, June. We all respect your decision of
keeping it under wraps…It must have been difficult for you, both of you”, she
added almost secretively while the rest were hard at work setting the dishes
and trays full of June’s favorite food.
“That means a lot, Laura. Thank you”, June smiled appreciatively at the
pretty short woman with crazy brown hair and a twinkle in her dark eyes, but all
of a sudden, a whiff of one of the trays made June grimace with revulsion.
“What? What is it?”, Hayley asked with concerned noticing her friend’s
reaction to one of her favorite salads.
“Oh God, I think it’s the cucumber and celery salad”, June clarified,
stretching her neck back as if trying to put as much distance as she could from
her nose and the tray. “The celery…I can’t stand it anymore”.
Hayley quickly removed the tray and handed it over to Diane who took it
to the kitchen. “So no morning sickness but instead a strong aversion to
celery? How funny!”, the statuesque woman chortled.
“I’m sorry, Hayley…I should’ve told you…”, June smiled sheepishly. The
fact that the baby was changing her in ways she didn’t expect made her stomach
flutter with a mixture of expectation and anxiety.
“No sweat”, Hayley flung a lazy hand at her and went on with her
task of opening the bottle of wine.
“I’m still ALL in for your bisques, though”, June reminded the lovely blonde, who gave her a wink and proceded to take her place on one of the chairs, before pouring herself a glass of wine.
Diane and Laura followed. The women started passing around the trays and filling
their dishes with portions of the delicious food.
“So…where were we? This gorgeous
man was unofficially back on the market…his impending divorce was an open
secret…and he seeked the comfort of a friend, huh?", Hayley prompted.
"If you call that comforting a friend...", Laura spoke in a chuckle and they all laughed.
June admitted to herself that there was anything wrong in being just a tad less
serious, but sharing her story - our story,
Jon’s voice clarified in her head - was proving much more difficult than she
thought.
June gave herself a minute to mentally outline and edit first, then focused
on the sneaking around to keep the story-telling entertaining and light, making
her friends burst out in laughter with some of the anecdotes.
“You know what it’s like…when you connect with someone at such a deep
level…you can only fight it for so long”, she finished, her heart throbbing as
she allowed herself to be filled with a weave of amazement at the miracle of
love. “I guess that what they say it’s true: distance is like the wind: it puts
out the small fires, but makes the big fires even bigger.” Her blissful smile
touched her friends’ hearts, but only Diane picked up on the fact that the
glassy eyes weren’t a product of her apparent state of grace.
A joyful but respectful silence followed.
“That was fucking beautiful, my friend”, began Hayley enthusiastically
with the objective of further pumping up the general spirits. “I say we raise
our glasses…”, she stood up and lifted her glass of wine, drawing an arch with
her arm in the air in front of her. “…To love…and friendship…which, to make it
clear to everyone…”, she looked at
June with a faux-reproving smirk on her bright-red lips, “…means not having to
learn about your friend’s love life through the tabloids”.
Another chorus of agreement followed before they clinked glasses.
“Now…we might be ready for the bisques”, Hayley finally announced,
eliciting a small round of applause from the rest of the women.
“So what about the book? Are you still going to publish it?”, Diane
asked before taking a bite of the delicacy in her mouth.
“Of course”, said June after she finished swallowing her own bite. “We
still have a few months ahead of us but after all the international media buzz some
organizations have contacted us, offering their support”, her eyes shone again
with determination. “There must be a way of helping other people in Lipeng’s
situation and I’m going to find that way, sooner or later. I’ll talk to whoever
wants to listen.”
“I just hope that you don’t start illegally crossing borders for a
living”, Hayley teased, her fist pressed beneath her chin. The rest of the women chortled at the outrageous idea.
“No, not if I can do it the right way”, June explained, still a little amused, as she whipped her lips
with a paper napkin. "This time I had to do it this way ‘cause I didn’t have the
support or attention I have now”, she explained wishfully, pondering the
possibilities of helping others the new circumstances offered.
“Everybody says the book’s gonna be explosive”, Laura added, remembering
what she’d seen on the news. June couldn’t help but a rush of excitement to
rattle in her veins.
“Hopefully. Lipeng didn’t withhold any information to himself. And the way he
writes…I just hope it doesn’t get lost in translation”, the writer added.
It was Hayley’s turn to ask now. “But legally, I mena, what’s your situation? And theirs?”
“I think none of us is gonna be able to avoid some sort of penalization for
crossing the border, maybe won’t be able to travel for a while…”, June
explained, without a shadow of regret in her voice: even if the outcome hadn’t
been as successful, it would still have been worth the shot.
“Isn’t the Chinese government going to prosecute?”, continued Hayley as
she poured herself another glass of red wine.
June shook her head. “They can’t beyond their borders…AND doing that
will only bring more attention to the book”.
“And I’m guessing they don’t want that…”, added Diane. “I’m also sure
that when the book is finally published they’re gonna find a way to discredit
it”.
The other three women agreed in unison and the conversation soon drifted
away from June, but it didn’t go unnoticed to Diane how her friend kept peering
at her teacup like a fortune-teller at a fair.
After Laura and Hayley left, well past 10 p.m., Diane sat down next to
June on the couch, propping one elbow on the back, holding her head with a
graceful hand under her jaw. She was
going to stay over at John’s apartment to keep June company, but there was one
issue she needed to address before they went to bed.
“Have you been getting enough sleep lately?”, Diane asked with concern.
“And by this I’m not implying that Jon’s a stud”, she clarified with a smirk,
making June chuckle in spite of herself.
“No, in fact, I haven’t”
“Bad dreams?”
June nodded silently, pursing her lips.
“Recurrent?”
“Yup”
“What about?”
“Drowning, that’s all I can remember, but then in the end I can make
it out of the water. It’s very…specific”
“Then it’s the post-traumatic effect, honey”, encouraged Diane. “They
will go away sooner than you think”.
“But the dreams…they’re not my memories, D, I think it’s my own
thoughts. I am drowning…in all this,
in the present or the future, I don’t even know which is which anymore”, she
explained, confident now that what stalked her dreams was also what harrowed her
waking thoughts and chased her awake too soon to rest.
“Go on…”, Diane's voice was soft now as she realized that what she'd intuited was only the tip of the iceberg.
“I was used to outlining my plans and follow them through and now…in
less than three weeks I’ve had to practically redesign my entire life…”, her trail of thought was coherent and clear, but the slight hesitation in her voice implied that she was debating whether to voice her thoughts. “I need to get the reigns of my life back”,
unshed tears shone in June’s eyes as Diane now rubbed her back reassuringly.
“And you need to feel that you’re the one calling the shots…”, Diane voiced
the words that seemed to have frozen in June’s lips. “…not somebody else or the
circumstances”.
June nodded silently and sighed appreciatively at her friend's ability for understanding.
“However…that I can handle…What really bugs me is that I have made decisions for other people…”, she finished almost
audibly, with a tinge of guilt.
“I’m sure you didn’t point a gun at anybody’s head…”, Diane's tone was almost amused at first, but after getting no feedback from June, it suddenly changed. “…did
you?”, she asked doubtfully, still wondering what her friend was trying to get at.
June couldn’t help but chuckle at her friend’s suggestion. “I would have
if I had to, but no, it’s…God”, she groaned
self-scoldingly and paused to give herself encouragement to keep talking. If she
wanted to get better, she had to talk about it, now, and Diane was the one person
in the world that could be trusted with such an intimate confession. “Remember
when Martin and I got food poisoning?…”, she paused and waited for Diane’s nod. “I…should’ve
known better…I should’ve known! I’m
not a teenager for Christ’s sake...”, she chuckled ironically, and pressed her
palm against her forehead.
Diane’s stomach clenched into a knot. “June…are you having second thoughts
about the preg-?”
“God, no Diane, for Christ’s sake”, she exploded. “I didn't even have first thoughts about it, but ...what if Jon
thinks I did, that I wanted it to happen?"
“And has he demanded any kind of explanation?”
“No. Not yet, at least, and if he does, I don’t have any, no excuse at
all”, she raised her hands in surrender.
“And do you trully believe you could have done anything to prevent it? I’ve
heard the most unlikely stories.
Maybe the food poisoning didn’t have anything to do with it, maybe it was just
a coincidence and the result would be exactly the same.” Diane's tone was truthful and encouraging.
June remained quiet for a long minute as she processed Diane's words. “You do have a point there, D.” She
had, indeed, followed the same reasoning, but in the turmoil of the past few
days, it was reassuring to confirm that it was actually reasonable and not just her mind playing tricks on
her, trying to find a way to excuse her apparent negligence.
“Then let me tell you one more thing, although I’m sure you already know:
it takes two to tango, baby…and if he was trying so hard NOT to get you
pregnant then he shouldn’t have gone to the party and fucked you in the terrace
of the hotel, out in the open with nothing but a wall separating you from a hall packed with two
hundred guests. I’m sorry but I don’t believe in ‘accidents’”, she air-quoted. “If you ever wanted it to happen, I’m sure he wanted it just as much”, she
finished forthrightly.
“That was you?!…”, June remembered the footsteps she’d heard after her
and Jon’s steamy encounter by the pool. She had completely forgotten about it,
but the memory came back at Diane’s comment.
“Yeah…and you’re welcome,
girlfriend. If it wasn’t for me guarding the entrance to the terrace…”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Well”, Diane shrugged, but continued with a more sober tone, “I have to admit that I waited for you to tell me about it at first, but then two days later you were gone and here we are".
June felt a slight sting of regret and smiled apologetically. "Crazy, huh?"
“He loves you, June. You should’ve seen him when we couldn’t find you,
he was so torn it was painful to look at him.”
“I know…it’s just that it’s too soon...”
“That’s bullshit, June, you guys go way
back. I still don’t know why it took you two so long to take the blindfold off
your eyes. You’ve known each other for years, you love and trust each other…and that's more than many, many couples can say. You’re gonna be just fine”, the brunette sentenced.
June sighed with relief.
“And cut yourself some slack, honey, it’s perfectly alright to freak out”,
Diane sat closer to June and wrapped her arms around her. “With everything you’re
going through you’re handling it pretty well if you ask me…I'm so proud of you.”
June let out a long, deep breath. “God, I really needed this.”
Diane replied with a gentle smile on her lips as they pulled away. “My
pleasure, honey.”
Later that night June laid in bed, at times tossing and turning, at times staring at the ceiling, trying to find sleep but still afraid
that it would only bring another bad dream.
However, when sleep finally found her, this time, it took her right into Jon's warm, loving arms.
