Back to You

She gasped and looked up at Lauren before she threw her little body forward, wrapping her arms around Lauren’s neck with a strength Lauren didn’t think a four-year-old was capable of.

Lauren smiled, hugging her back, and as soon as she released her, Erin put the crown on her head. “Daddy, can I wear this in the bath?”

Michael laughed. “We’ll see.” He turned to Lauren. “Thank you for that. For everything. Really.”

“You’re welcome,” Lauren said as she stood. When he held his arms out to her, she didn’t hesitate stepping into them this time. Her arms came up around his neck, and he slid his around her waist, holding her securely against his body.

Michael’s hand came to her head, stroking down the back of her hair, and she closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. His familiar scent filled her nose, and without thinking, she turned her head slightly, nuzzling into the side of his neck.

She felt his breath catch before he tightened his hold on her, turning his face into her hair.

Butterflies exploded in her stomach, and the surface of her skin began tingling.

She could feel the heat of his breath shivering along the side of her neck with every exhale, and she slid her arms down from around his shoulders, knowing she needed to end the contact. But even as her mind sent the warning, she fisted her hands in the front of his jacket, refusing to let him go.

He turned his head a little further, and Lauren felt the fullness of his lips brush against the shell of her ear. Her heart felt like it was going to crash through her chest, and she tightened her fists in his jacket as she warred with herself over what she wanted to do and what she needed to do.

She turned her face away from his neck, taking a deep breath of cold, unscented air, and it was just enough to clear her head.

Lauren released his jacket and took a step back, breaking his hold on her. “Good night, Michael,” she said.

And before he could even respond, she was walking around the back of her car. “Good night, Erin,” she called.

“Good night, Miss Lauren. I love my crown,” she said, holding it on her head with both hands while she spun in a circle, and Lauren smiled as she slid in the car and shut the door.

She drove off without looking back.

She could not allow herself to look back.

Her heart was still racing, and the faint tingling continued to dance over her skin.

Tonight had been about Erin. Tonight, she wanted to make Erin happy. All her focus had gone into that, and not so much into watching her interactions with Michael. Too many times tonight, the line had gotten blurred.

But the scariest thing was, she hadn’t cared enough to pull back.

She needed to submerge herself in something that would occupy her mind, something that would prevent her from thinking too closely about what had just happened.

She had a case study coming up in one of her classes. It wasn’t due for several weeks, but as she drove home, she began pla

As soon as she walked through the door, she powered up her lapt@es"> shoulderop and made herself a cup of tea. Then she sat on her bed with her laptop beside her and a textbook sprawled over her thighs, burying herself in her work.

About an hour into her research, the soft chime of a bell sounded from the computer, notifying her she had a new e-mail message.

She pulled her eyes from the textbook and leaned over, clicking on her mail icon, and her heart leapt into her throat when she saw it was from Michael.

Lauren knew opening the message would be unwise, not to mention counterproductive, but she clicked on it anyway.

Lauren,

Thank you again for tonight. And just so you know, Erin did wear the crown in the tub. In fact, as I type this, it’s lying on the pillow next to her head as she’s sleeping. Figured you’d get a kick out of that. I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for her. And for me. You’re still the same in the best ways, but you’re different in the best ways too, if that makes sense. Anyway, I attached a song to this message. It makes me think of you. Actually, it makes me think of us.

Lauren stopped reading and glanced at the attachment. She could only see that it was by Coldplay before she quickly closed out of the message.

And then she fell back onto her bed and covered her face with both hands.

She couldn’t finish reading that e-mail. And she definitely couldn’t listen to whatever song he’d sent. She was on the verge of doing something stupid. Something she absolutely could not allow herself to do.

She could feel the inclination building. Like a caged animal clawing at her insides, fighting to get out.

Lauren took a deep breath and did the only thing she knew could prevent that from happening; she allowed her mind to go back to the place she’d been avoiding since she was eighteen.

.

August 2003

Lauren didn’t like his room like this. It made everything seem too final. Too real.

She sat on Michael’s bed, looking around at the bare walls, at the clutter of boxes scattered around his floor, at his half-empty closet.

She’d had the entire summer to come to terms with the fact that he was leaving. After all, that’s what people did when they graduated; they went off to college.

Except he wasn’t going off to college. He was moving to New York. His friend Jay’s cousin lived out there, about a half hour north of New York City, and he’d offered both of them a place to stay until they decided what they wanted to do with themselves after graduating.

Maybe that was what made it so difficult to accept. The uncertainty of it all. The fact that he didn’t have a plan. Or maybe it was the fact that he was leaving without a reason. He wasn’t going to school. He wasn’t offered a job. He had nothing out there to call his own. So why did he have to go? Why couldn’t he decide what he wanted to do with his life right here? Why couldn’t he figure it all out in the house that was a mere seven minutes away from Lauren’s, where she could still see him whenever she wanted?

Lauren chewed her lip as she picked at her nail polish. She knew that was an incredibly selfish way of looking at it { display: block; text-indent: 5%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: gsi

She glanced up at him. He was still looking down at the picture she’d just given him, the one she took of them at his graduation a few weeks earlier. There was something behind his eyes that made her feel sad, even though his lips were curved into a smile.

“Thanks Red,” he said, holding up the picture before he turned and placed it between two folded articles of clothing in the box in front of him.

Lauren shrugged. “Something to remember me by.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Don’t get dramatic,” he said with a laugh, tossing a crumpled T-shirt at her.

She tried to smile as she dodged it, but it was forced. There was an ache in her chest that fluttered every time she looked at him.

Michael reached into his closet, pulling a handful of shirts off their hangers and dropping them on the dresser in front of him, and then he began folding them and putting them in the box by his feet.

“So…what are you go

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Du

Lauren laughed and threw the T-shirt back at him, and it landed over the back of his head. He reached up and pulled it off, casting a smile over his shoulder before he tossed it to the pile on his dresser.

“Will you come home?” she asked, and when he didn’t answer right away, her smile fell. “You know, for holidays and stuff?”