Temptation and Second Chances

“You said I have until your popsicle melts.” He says jokingly, with a hint of a sad smile.

“Yeah,” She says softly, looking down at the red sticky liquid running down her hand, “I know what I said. I was joking, mostly.”

They remain quiet for a few minutes, sounds of children laughing in a nearby playground and moms huddled in conversation of gossip fill their silence. It’s funny, isn’t it… The way heavy silence can fill only two peoples' world, while the rest of the world speeds on by with noise and chaos. 

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea?” He asks cautiously, looking at the now tan color of her cheeks. He remembers how soft they were. 

“No, probably wasn’t,” She says abruptly, too dismissively; she frowns and clears her throat, “But when have we been full of good ideas anyway?” She says in return, looking to him and offering a small smile. 

“I didn’t realize how much I missed your smile.” He whispers. Her smile falters for a second, trembling before she bites her lip and clears her throat again. He notices the change, dropping his eyes to his lap and silently cursing himself for saying anything at all. 

“Em, listen I’m sorry I shouldn’t ha-” But before he can finish his sentence, she drops her popsicle in front of the bench they’re sitting on and places her sticky hand on top of his with a real; warm smile on her face now. Silently, she wonders if their hands will stick together for good this time. She even allows herself to hope, for just a moment. 

“It’s okay Frederick. I’ve missed yo-” But she stops, her mind going blank because how can she fit all the things she's missed in just a sentence?

He looks up at her, and turns the hand she's holding over to interlock their fingers. She shakes her head and meekly tries to pull away, but it’s so warm. Filling the nagging feeling she’s had for years now. The feeling of emptiness because no other hand has been able to fill her with so much warmth and safety. Other hands mimic, some have come close, but never close enough.

“It’s okay Em, please, just let me hold your hand yeah?” He says while looking down at how small her hand looks compared to his. 

“Yeah,” She echoes. 

Time can be such a cruel mistress, but Frederick can’t get over how it hadn’t seemed to touch Emily Brent yet. To him, she looked the same as she did in high school. Brown shoulder length hair, a soft expressive face and petite build. She was still so beautiful. Emily noticed that Frederick looked… Lived in. Long dark brown hair hanging over his lean handsome face, woeful eyes and a muscle toned figure. 

“It’s so nice to see you.” He tries again, looking down at their entangled hands.

“When was the last time? Senior year, night of graduation.”  

“Yeah.” Frederick clears his throat, he didn’t exactly want to remember that night. Not all of it at least.

“Yeah.” Emily echos.

Frederick sighs and feels his hands heat up. He wonders how quickly they will start to sweat now. 

“You still sweat a lot when you’re nervous,” Emily says brightly, amused. She lets some time pass before she speaks again, “I forgive you, you know.”

Frederick takes in a deep breath and looks away from their hands. Is forgiveness always so easy, so softly alluring after long awaited repentance?

“It’s been years Frederick, over twenty something now no? I have no anger towards you, and I don’t regret a thing. Really.”

“I do…” Frederick whispers.

“Yes… I suppose you would,” Emily sighs, leaning her head against the back of the seat and staring at the soft blue sky, “Is she nice? I heard you got married.”

Frederick closes his eyes and leans his weight against the bench. Wondering if it would be possible to sink into the wood and live there.  

“Yeah… She’s nice. We have a six year old son, his name is Liam.”

“That’s wonderful Freddy.” She says dreamily, enjoying the feeling of warmth from his hand.

“He’s beautiful, I love him beyond anything I thought possible,” He grins and then pauses, “Man I haven’t heard anyone call me Freddy in a long time.” 

“Freddy,” She sing-songs, before sighing and sitting up. She pulls her hand away from his, and it almost feels like she’s ripping away part of herself. He looks over with a knotted brow, wanting to protest but she holds her hand up to silence him. 

“I didn’t think it was you, when I first passed by your carpentry shop. Are you living in London now?” She asks, moving ever so slightly away to give herself space from the familiar scent of Frederick’s cologne. Hints of leather, sweet agarwood, and oriental wood resulting in a deep, spicy smell.

“Yeah, we’ve been living here for a few years now. We moved here a few years before Liam’s birth. What about you Em? Did you meet someone?”

“You always did like London. I moved here three years ago now,” She smiles, “And yeah, we’ve been married for eight years now.”

“Ah, how was the seven year itch?”

Emily laughs deeply, from her soft chest comes a full laugh like finally taking a deep breath of fresh air, “Happiness is inconsequential after a while.” 

“You’re not happy?” Frederick asks quickly, frowning and wanting to hold her hand again.

“I am, sometimes. He’s sick Freddy, we’re not sure if treatments will work yet…” Emily stops and takes a deep breath, her eyes burn with hot tears that threaten to unravel everything she’s worked so hard to keep buried away. Her fear, doubt, and anger at how unflinchingly cruel life can be.

“We don’t have to talk about it yet, when you’re ready.” He says softly, hoping that his voice and words can hold her together where his hands cannot. 

“Thanks. Sorry.” She shakes her head, hoping to shake off some of the thoughts in her head. Thoughts of the past, Freddy’s warm hands that are finally so close again, and her present. The present is always so relentless. 

“You don’t need to apologize Em, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, so how long have you and the Mrs. been together?”

“Nine years married,” Frederick gives a tight smile, “We were together before that as well.”

“You’re short when you talk about her, cold even, but not with your son.”

“You're still analyzing people I see.” Frederick laughs and takes in Emily’s lips. Soft, tilted upwards in a gentle grin. 

Emily blushes, “Sorry, I remember you hated when I did that.”

“You’re always so in tune. I admired that. My wife and I, we’re together out of convenience now. There’s no love, not the love that should be in a marriage at least, hasn’t been for a while.”

“But why don’t you-”

Frederick interrupts her before she can finish her question, “We have a son, she’s a good woman. We’ve talked cryptically about it all. Dance around the subject. She says who wants to start over anyway? We’re in our late thirties now, forty is on the way. There’s a sense of comfort in having a partner as time takes its toll.”

“I suppose we all just want some comfort in the end.”

Suddenly Frederick speaks in a rush, “I’m sorry for leaving you that night Em, the fight was so stupid. I said such horrible things. I did such horr-“

“Freddy, let it go. We were young. And deeply in love for what we knew love to be, in all its pure and overwhelming glory. That’s how I want to remember it, please.”

Frederick opens his mouth to protest, but nods slowly as she places her hand on top of his again, but still maintains her distance, “Okay, yeah, I can do that.”

“Shouldn’t you be going home?” Emily wonders aloud to try and change the subject.

“Probably. I should probably ask you the same.” Frederick makes no movement to get up and leave, smiling absently at Emily tracing small circles on his hand. 

“Yes well, since the diagnosis he’s been distant. So angry. It’s understandable of course. I know he’s scared and frustrated, feeling powerless. But he shuts me out, all we do is fight. It’s like it fuels him now, this anger at everything and everyone. He can say such mean things though, let me tell you.” She lets out a shaky laugh, running her free hand through her hair. 

“I’m sorry Em.” Frederick says quietly, it’s all he can offer her. 

“What did we use to say? About sorry. Loses its charm after a while.” 

Frederick nods, turning his hand over quickly to catch hers before she has a chance to pull away again. She settles her hand around his wrist as he does the same. Her fingers are small and slightly warm, his are rough and hot. Still sweaty. She smiles and looks up to find his hazel eyes already staring at her brown ones. She feels like time slows around them, as if a force is between them pulling them together, blurring out everything that doesn’t belong in this moment. Before they can get any more lost in fantasies of a life where maybe, things worked out and they wouldn’t have lost all that time; Emily’s phone rings sharply cutting the thick tension settling between their desire to get closer. Frederick lets her wrist go. She places her hand on top of his, starting to draw circles again.

Emily grabs her phone from her back pocket, she stops running circles on Frederick's hand but doesn’t pull away, “It's my husband.” She hesitates to answer for a moment too long. A moment Frederick notices, and plans to savor. 

“Hello love, are you feeling okay? Do you need anything?” She asks earnestly, Frederick smiles at how quickly her delicate features turned from a sweet smile to worry and care. A sweet expression of unconditional love. Open, ready to catch you if you fall, and walk with you through fire type of loyalty. Is she really in love with him though? Fredrick wonders to himself, or does she love and care for him as Frederick did his own wife? Just not the love she really should have in return. 

Frederick breaks away from his train of thought when he hears Emily say that she’ll be home right away. She ends the call and smiles, pulling her hand off his and straightening up. 

“I have to go, he’s decided he does want to talk to the doctors about possible next step options.” She smiles brightly, hopeful even. 

“That’s great Emily! I hope everything works out for you both. I wish you well.” 

“Thanks Freddy, it was so nice to see you again. Maybe…" She hesitates, shaking her head, "No never mind, I’ll be seeing you, yeah?” She gets up quickly, Frederick follows suit and they hug. She can’t help but relish the feeling of resting her head in his familiar warm chest and feeling protected. Frederick smiles, reminiscing high school days and youth. He lets go reluctantly, and shakes his head at such a selfish feeling. Emily looks like she wants to say something but decides not too, she waves and turns to leave.

Frederick opens his mouth but finds no voice comes out. He closes his mouth and swallows hard. He tries again, pulling a business card from his back pocket, “Em!”

She turns around quickly, intrigued as she waits for him to catch up to the short distance she’s walked. He holds up his card and hands it to her. She grabs hold of it and looks down to read. 

“My card, if you ever want to talk again. It really was nice seeing you.”

Emily nods her head and Frederick wonders if he mistakes noticing her hand tighten on the card almost protectively. Like she wanted to make sure she didn’t ever let go of it. 

“Yes. Thanks Freddy, I’d like that. It was nice to catch up.” She says happily, it’s like a heavy stone has been lifted from her chest. 

“I’ll be seeing you then.” Frederick says, flashing her a warm grin. She smiles, and nods her head and turns to leave again. 

Frederick watches her go for a few moments before he turns to leave in the opposite direction, walking toward his car thinking what he should pick up for dinner for his wife and son. Emily slows her pace down slightly and turns back to watch Frederick walking away, and for a moment sees the back of a seventeen year old Freddy heading into the field for football practice. She laughs, shaking her head in an amused manner before turning back around to walk to her car and head home. 

To be continued…