Chapter 19

I really can't explain things. I simply can't. I mean, it was wonderful and the best feeling ever. That's all there is to it. Lafayette told me that he wanted to keep it a secret from Michael and Emilio. I didn't know why but then he said it would just be fun. "They'll be really pissed when they find out we've been hiding it from them," he explained.

"I can tell my parents right?" I asked.

"They already think we're together so why not?"

"You're not going to reveal to the world about us though..."

"Not yet. All in good time."

"Okay. Whenever you're ready."

He smiled at me in the mirror, and I walked over to do his tie. Things were lovely. They truly were. Waking up in his arms, him making breakfast naked, morning blow jobs, showering together, getting dressed together. Work was normal still. We'd kiss more, but otherwise it was the same old routine. I guess I never realized how much Lafayette and I had already been basically dating before. I mean, we did the same things, we were just physical now. I changed a little now that we were together, meaning I worried more. For some reason I felt like he still wasn't happy. I had never realized that he was depressed before, because he was good at making it seem like he wasn't. He had a good fake smile and fake laugh, which I find slightly ironic because I always smile and laugh genuinely. Thinking about it like that, it made me think of how we were similar, but also different, and that of course worried me, too, because he might realize our differences and not want to be with me because of them, but I'm just a worry-wart. It's just that he's older than me and that he has had experience in many things I haven't...

I was sitting at my desk thinking these things, not seeing him look at me.

"What's wrong?" he asked from his desk, leaning back.

I shrugged. "I'm still thinking."

"I love that you think, but sometimes I question why you think sad thoughts. Try to do what I do and think nicely."

"You think happy thoughts?" I asked.

"Well, yeah."

"Oh."

"What? Did you think I constantly thought of sad, morbid thoughts?"

"No, I just figured you thought about things that, I dunno, stressed you out or something."

He paused, glancing at me. "Come here," he said.

I went over to him and he pulled me onto his lap, pulling my legs over him. "I do think about things that aren't the happiest, but that's not why I'm the way I am. I simply feel sad and empty, but it's not because of what I think about. I try to feel better by thinking nice things, and when I think of not so nice things it's fine. I do avoid thinking about horrible things that you think about, though. You always worry about people passing away or things like that, but I try not to."

"Well, maybe you should."

"I should?" he asked.

"Yeah. I mean, I'm always happy and what not, but I think about those thing. You're not happy and don't think about those things, and surely you do think about those things at times, right?" I said.

"Yes, like when you go out without me I think about bad things that could happen to you."

"And so when I arrive home alright you feel even more happy because nothing bad happened to me."

He smiled at me, taking in what I said. "You're a lot smarter than what you think you are Em. I don't get how you think you're stupid. You're the most understanding person I know."

I smiled, looking down at his chest, not sure where else to look.

"Tell me what's worrying you."

I shrugged, glancing at him. "I just feel self-conscious and keep thinking that you won't want to be with me. I know otherwise, but sometimes I compare us and I don't see how we can be together. I mean, you've experienced a lot of things that I haven't. You're mature and just know things."

"What do I know?"

"Well...remember at my aunt's funeral? That was the first time anyone in my family had ever passed away, and I didn't know how to cope with it because I never really coped with Kenneth's death. You know how to cope with that. I mean, you've built an amazing company, too, and you just know things about that. You know what sadness feels like and you know how to not let it stop you, like with Marcus and you-"

"Em, that doesn't mean I know anything more than you. Just because I know what sadness feels like doesn't mean you don't. You get worried and stressed and sad, too, especially because of me but you confront your feelings. I try to avoid them. When you weren't sure what I wanted from you, you confronted me. When you were afraid I didn't love you back, you confronted me. You worry so much Em. I'm not going anywhere. I do love you. I'm not sad. Just because we're different doesn't mean we can't love each other, because we're still very similar, too."

I sighed and leaned my head against him. "I really do think too much."

He chuckled and kissed me.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"You don't have to answer it because it's really personal, but since you've been sad for so long have you ever considered..." I couldn't even say it, the thought was unbearable.

"Suicide?" he finished for me.

I nodded, and already I was getting choked up just thinking about it. I mean...

He sighed, leaning back, which made me choke up more because that is not a good sign. "I never attempted it, but I thought about it. I knew I would never do it, but sometimes I just wondered what would happen. I never did it because - well, because of you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, or the idea of you. I knew that one day I would find somebody that I would truly love and make me happy, and that's you." He smiled lovingly at me. "I have to be honest, though. I do think bad thoughts about you. Almost all the time I do." He smiled suggestively at me.

"You're such a pig."

"And you're not?"

"I never said that," I said, leaning in and kissing him. Kissing him easily became my second pastime. First was having sex with him. Third was cuddling with him. "What have you thought about with me?"

"Well, although you know me very well, you don't know me at all sexually."

"I know you really like sex."

"But I prefer making love and I absolutely love you. I thought about you a lot when you first started working for me." He turned me so I was straddling him, pulling me close.

"I thought about you, too," I told him. "And I just might have done some dirty things to myself."

"Well I just might have, too," he said, and the idea of him touching himself was incredibly hot to me. "I really wanted to throw you down on this desk."

"I'd love it if you did that right now."

He kissed me and grabbed my legs, putting me onto the desk, shoving some things off. He stopped and gently moved the vase with the rose out of the way so it wouldn't shatter. He mounted over me, kissing me intensely. We ended up not keeping it a secret from Michael and Emilio as long as we had wanted. In the middle of our steamy, sweating kissing, clothes removing, grinding, and groping - Michael walked in. We didn't even notice him until he made an "Oh!" out of surprise. "Oh!" he chirped again. "Ew!"

I was embarrassed, but Lafayette wouldn't let my lips go, and he just waved him away.

"Dirty sloots," he mumbled and walked out, then shouted at Emilio, "They're having sex!"

And yeah, we had sex. Duh. I'm certain lots of people would want to have sex on their desk.

Things were just going great. Lafayette never looked sad. We made love all the time. His business was getting better. His underground business was nonexistent. And things were going good with his family. His father had a barbeque in the house Lafayette bought for him. I was Lafayette's date, and Michael, Emilio, Vince, and Donald came.

We arrived at the large house with a nice yard on Saturday at two. His dad was at the grill, grilling steak. His mom was talking with some ladies I didn't know. Claude was talking to an old friend apparently. Lafayette told me he recently got divorced from his wife because she had cheated on him. Axelle and her man were talking to some more people I didn't know. Clovis and Alisha were on the porch, in their own world. Then Delphine was talking to a woman, their kids playing, their husbands talking. Michael and Emilio went and hung out with Clovis. Vince and Donald sat down and talked with each other. Then Lafayette and I went and talked with his father.

"Hello son," he greeted.

"Dad," he replied. "You remember Emerson?"

"Of course I do. How do you like your steak?"

"Uh..."

"Medium rare, for the both of us."

"Alright. You have yet to try my world-famous steak. It's the best after all."

"It's true," Lafayette agreed.

"Beau," said Mrs. Jeff, coming up to her husband. "Where did you put the cloth napkins exactly?"

"In the kitchen in the third cabinet."

"Thank you dear. Lafayette, how are you sweetie?" she asked.

"Good, Mom."

"That's good, and what about you Emerson?"

"I'm great," I told her.

"Great," she said, smiling and then walked into the house.

His parents were nice, but his siblings were still smug, except for Clovis. Claude was better, though, and him and Lafayette carried on a decent conversation. He was still a little distant, but not an ass. Axelle wasn't too bad either. She wasn't being a bitch specifically to Lafayette, it's just that she's bitchy in general. Delphine was a complete fuck still, so screw her.

"So, are you going to tell your parents about us...or wait until you want to tell everyone?" I asked.

He stopped and stared at me. "It doesn't have to be about what I want. If you really want to tell the entire world then we can," he told me.

"But you're not out to everyone, and I don't want to push you out of the closet. It doesn't have to be about everything I want either."

He smiled at me. "Let's tell everyone on New Year's alright?"

"Alright. I can do that. Is it bad that a part of me wants to show you off?"

He laughed. "And why would you want to show me off?"

"Well, Lafayette Jeff is my boyfriend. So many people in the world want to say that. My boyfriend is the richest man in the world and he is the sexiest man in the world as well. Nobody has ever really been jealous of me before, so it would be a nice change."

"I'm certain many people have been jealous of you. I have."

"Why?"

"Because you're always happy and have a great family. I'm not jealous anymore, though. What's there to be jealous of when I have you?"

"You really need to stop being so cute. I'm gonna pass out over here."

He laughed, looking at me in a way that many people want to be looked at.

"Where's the bathroom at this place?" I asked, ruining the moment.

"This way," he said and pulled me into the house. It was a very nice house, but not as fancy as Lafayette's townhouse. This one was homey. I went to the bathroom as he went back outside, me taking my time to make sure I looked decent. It was getting to be that cool but nice weather, so I was wearing nice tan jeans (not khakis, ew) and a regular maroon button-up. I thought I looked quite decent and cute at the same time. I left the bathroom and went down the hall to the kitchen where the back door was.

"Oh, Emerson, can you help me with this?" asked Mrs. Jeff, who was putting frosting on some cupcakes.

"Of course," I replied, not wanting to be rude. I grabbed a knife and spread some frosting over the cupcakes, struggling with it because I couldn't do anything related to cooking or baking.

We spread frosting onto the cupcakes for a few minutes in silence. I tried to think of something to say, to dismiss the awkwardness, but Mrs. Jeff had something she wanted to say. "Emerson, I'm sorry for the times we had been rude to you," she replied. I went to say something but she put her hand up. "No protest. We were rude, and after seeing the effect you have on Lafayette, it makes me feel worse. His smile never lit up the place like it does now when he's smiling at you. He'd always put on a fake smile, and I never noticed that it was really that fake. Now, I can tell because his smiles today have been so genuine and bright. We shouldn't have been rude to you, because that might have prevented the two of you to be together and he wouldn't be smiling so brightly the way he is now."

I didn't know what to say.

She smiled kindly at me. "Finish those up dear. The guests are waiting. My cupcakes are world-famous, you know?"

"I'm assuming Lafayette gets his great cooking skills from both of you?"

"Absolutely."

We finished frosting the cupcakes and brought them out to everyone. Everyone ate the delicious food and had a merry time, relishing in each others company. We left later in the evening and once we got back to the flat, Lafayette took a shower as I just lied in bed, watching TV and doing nothing productive. I found it funny being his assistant while being with him, because I didn't feel like I was actually with him. A few weeks ago, he got rid of my direct deposit account, stopped giving me checks, and just gave me one of his cards. So I wasn't really getting paid by him. I was like a housewife. I did lots of things for him as he actually worked, and he then would give me money to spend on whatever I wanted, but I really didn't need to buy anything. I had clothes, and when I bought new clothes he was always with me. Then we always ate together, too, and there were always snacks in the flat. I did want to redo the flat and change the furniture, but no one would ever go in there so there was no point and then the townhouse was too perfect I could never change it - and we hardly went there. Also, if I didn't want to do something he'd probably let me not do it. If I decided to sleep all day instead, I doubt he'd say anything. I just like being with him and so of course I'll still act as his assistant.

"Are you naked?" he called from the shower.

"No," I called back. "Should I be?"

"You're eventually going to be, so might as well strip down now."

I laughed and pulled my shirt off. Sometimes, before we had sex, I still got that fluttery feeling in me, which made me feel wonderful. It always feels like the first time with him. A part of that is because he does things I've never done before, but also because he's just good and it gets better every time. I got undressed entirely and he came out of the shower, just wet and naked. I was still embarrassed a little about being nude in front of him before sex, but not after. Though he didn't care about being naked, like when we went to the nudist beach. He was confident with his body, and he has every damn right to be. He dried his hair briefly with a towel and then his body. He came over to me and crawled over me, locking his lips with mine. Goodness gracious, he just loves sex. He said he loves making love more, and so he wants to do it all the time. Which is fine with me. Whenever we do make love I can't help but shake my head at all the homophobes who say homosexuality is not natural. If it's not natural then how come my ass fits perfectly against his hips in doggie style? Or how I can press myself against him more than a girl can because no boobs get in the way? Screw it if it's not natural. They say homosexuality occurs because of over-population, so that makes it natural. People can just be so thick-minded. I like sleeping with this sexy man and I love him. That's all there is to it.

"You're such a slut," I told him after, lying against him.

"I was one, but now I'm not," he said, putting his arms around me, pulling the blanket over us.

I sighed, tired, closing my eyes.

"Hey Em?"

"Hm?"

"Remember when you asked me about suicide and everything?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, I wasn't completely honest."

I opened my and slowly looked up at him. "What do you mean?" I asked worriedly.

He sighed, which wasn't a good sign. He sat up, leaning against the headboard. "I told you how in fifth grade is when I started to understand what depression was. Well, I looked up depression and famous people who had suffered from depression. So many of them committed suicide. I started to feel like I could never change the way I felt. I was twelve, and it was about a month after my birthday. I was only in the sixth grade, and I was home alone. I grabbed a bottle of pills, and I took quite a few. I didn't take the entire bottle. I didn't think I had to take that much. So I took some, but it wasn't enough to kill me. Also, I have this feeling that I didn't really want to take so much I would die. I think I just took that much because I figured that when I woke up I wouldn't feel that way anymore. Meaning, I didn't really want to die. I just wanted to stop feeling that."

"What happened when you woke up?" I asked, unable to prevent tears from streaming down my face.

"Claude was the one who found me first, because we had shared a room. I had fallen onto the floor and the bottle was next to me. We lived kind of close to a hospital, and he was panicking so much he carried me and ran all the way to the hospital. I had to go to therapy and over summer I went to a school for troubled kids. I didn't get happier, but I got motivation to get happier. That's why after summer, in seventh grade, I decided to join the football team and became friends with Emilio and Michael."

"What if..." I couldn't finish the sentence.

He smiled softly at me. He pulled me closer to him and kissed my head. "There's no need to cry Emmy. Like I said - I don't think I really wanted to kill myself. I just wanted to stop the feeling."

"I don't want to imagine my life without you," I whimpered.

"Then don't," he told me, kissing me delicately. "I'm in your life right now aren't I?"

"I know, I just..."

"It's fine. Believe me. Emerson Something Lane is my boyfriend. I'm the luckiest person in the world."

I smiled, still emotional. "Emerson Dean Lane."

"Jeff."

"Jeff-Lane."

"It sounds like one name kind of. Jefflane. Jaflane."

"Lafayette Jeff-Lane."

"Emerson Jeff-Lane."

"Lafayette Jackson Jeff-Lane."

"Emerson Dean Jeff-Lane."

"Is this your way of proposing to me?"

"Ha! You haven't seen what spectacle I'm putting on for your proposal," he told me.

"You know how in high school, people would start dating and after three days they'd say they loved each other. Then everyone would complain and say how they just started dating and they weren't in love."

"Yeah."

"Well maybe they were like us, and maybe they had been in love with each other for a long time and then finally told the truth."

"Like when two best friends love each other and then fall in love."

"Exactly. So people can be in love once they start dating."

"And they can talk about proposing after few days, too, right?"

"Right," I said, feeling much better. I smiled up at him. "I mean, we said we wanted to be with each other forever, and it's wonderful to think that maybe this time next year we can have the same last name or something, you know? Like we don't have to, you know, anytime soon, but just when it feels right?"

"I'd honestly just like to marry you now and then have a big wedding later on," he said.

"That's not how it works."

"Bridezilla, huh?"

"No, it just has to be perfect is all."

He chuckled. "But you will marry me right?"

"Duh."

"Good. After I tell the world that I am screwing you, then I'll propose to you eventually, when you least expect it, and you'll cry like usual."

I laughed, slapping his arm. "Whatever."

"And then we'll just have a wonderful wedding."

"Sounds like a plan to me, babe."

"Good. By the end of the year, things are just going to be completely smooth. I have all sorts of things to finish up before hand, and then life will be better."

"What else do you have left?"

He exhaled. "I was going to go see Marcus soon."

"I was wondering when you were going to do that."

"Can you come with me?" he asked.

"Me? I suppose I can."

He nodded. "Good. I think we should go tomorrow. I'll talk to his doctors, leave him a note for when he wakes up, and just take care of it."

"Alright," I said. "Sounds like another plan."

He smiled. "Go to sleep alright?"

"Gladly. See you in the morning Faye."

"Night dear."