Chapter 4

With the trip down memory lane coming to an end, so did our dance around the apartment. I held Lizzie tightly to me, not wanting to let go. How in god's name had I fallen so deeply for her in only four months was beyond my comprehension. I only know that I have, and was the luckiest man alive because of it.

Looking down, I saw the love of my life gazing up at me. God, how I drowned every time I look into those soulful hazel eyes. Quite willingly every time, I might add...

"Earth to Josh. Are you there?" Lizzie called softly, smiling with full lips.

Snapping out of my daydream, I bent down to kiss those lips. Still high from the memory, I felt my eyes water with emotions. "You are the only woman for me," I murmured as I pressed my cheek against her blond mane. "Always have been. Always will be."

"I know," she sighed. "And I've always believed that. You've never given me the slightest reason to doubt that." Her eyes darkened. "And you hurt me if you ever doubt my belief in those words."

I grinned like a boy caught with his hands in the cookie jar. "Sorry, love. Mind still a little jarred from the accident."

Her hazel eyes darkened further at the mention of the accident. Goddamn it! Mouth shooting off again...

She pushed me away, and sat down on the sofa. Though her face was averted, I could see the tremble of her shoulders. Sitting down next to her, I encircled my arms around her slender waist. Her body shook slightly with silent sobs. Putting my head on her shoulder, I struggled with an excuse to whisper into her ear.

"I'm sorry about not telling you. Nothing major really happened, and I felt you already had so much to worry about... "

Lizzie stood up so fast that I almost fell face-first onto the sofa. Face now red with penned-up anger, I cowered. Maybe I should keep my mouth shut now.

"You are such a fucking hypocrite! You who go on about how you love me too much to have me carry any burden alone. And yet, what do you do? You don't even call me when something happens to you! I had to find out from a complete stranger that you had an accident. Then the fucking phone went dead on me, leaving me to wonder if you were lying on the side of the road bleeding to death or lying in a hospital bed, never to wake up from a coma! Do you know how that feels like, not knowing whether the person you want to spend your life with is dead or alive? I almost fainted in class from the panic and frustration!"

'That was she cried that night!' I mentally shouted with clarity. That dumb chick (her name is Cathy, I reminded myself) had called Lizzie that afternoon and told her everything. How the hell did she get a hold of Lizzie's number? Fuck... The speed dial on my cell phone.

She was sobbing hysterically now. Feeling like a wad of shit, I walked up to her and embraced her. Fighting furiously, she struggled to break my hold. But it was futile. I wouldn't have let go. I would've never let go. Relenting to my stubbornness, she collapsed tearfully into my arms. Smoothing her hair, I cooed apologies into her ear. I continued until I felt the last sobs fade away. She was right, after all. I am a hypocrite.

"I'm sorry, Lizzie. I guess I never thought that my love would turn into over-protectiveness. But I understand now... "

She looked up at me with red, puffy eyes. My heart gave a jerk just knowing that I had caused such swelling. "Do you? Do you really understand?"

Practically willing to commit murder for her to smile, I grabbed my chance. "Well," I replied with a voice tinged with false indignation, "I would hope to say that I understand the woman whom I'm hopelessly in love with... "

The ghost of a smile appeared. Nothing definite, only a quick twitch at the corner of the mouth. Still, it was encouraging.

"Well, let's hear it then, Mr. Hopelessly-in-Love-Psychoanalysist."

I decided that sincerity was a better approach to this delicate situation. "Lizzie, I am truly sorry. I realize now that by not holding you to the same standards I hold myself to, I'm actually belittling your love. But you know that I would never see your love as anything less than the most important thing in the world to me."

She placed her face onto my chest. "You do understand. You really do understand."

Smiling softly, I smoothed her silky hair. "See? I told you I understood the woman whom I'm hopelessly in love with."

She giggled. "All right! "So you do understand me. Probably more than anybody alive right now. And I wouldn't want it to be anyone else." Her face turned serious again. "But what I said before still applies. No more secrets from each other. It really hurts to know that you have a piece of you that I can't touch."

"Ok, love." I planted a wet one on her cheeks. "You're the boss of me. We do things your way. No more secrets."

"Good."

We stood there for a while, just silently enjoying ourselves. Then she broke it.

"So what does Miss Hamilton want?"

I could've sworn I detected a trace of jealousy. "Nothing special. Just want me to go down there, sign her release papers, and probably take her home.

"Home and... "

"... and... " I went on, not sure where she's leading.

"... and what?"

"And nothing. What else would there be for a man out of circulation and a high school girl?"

She arched her eyebrows. "Out of circulation?"

I sighed. "I've told you before, love. You are the only woman for me. You always have been, and you always will be."

Blushing, she attempted a recovery. "I meant 'home and what time you'll be getting back? I'm not worried. Why would a teeny-bopper be interested in a old fart like you?"

Though I should have left it well alone, I couldn't resist the challenge. "Maybe the same reasons why you are interested in this bag of old fart? Hummm?"

"I'm not... I mean, I don't... I... "

"Ummm? Hummm?"

She couldn't get out a word.

"Just as I thought." I sighed. "I thought you believed those words."

"I do. I do believe those words. But it's hard to imagine a man not willing to trade a used car in for a younger model."

"Spoken like a true car fetishist." I shook my head. "I like classics. Classic beauty is something that's in short supply these days."

"But we're talking about women... "

"Lizzie, I try my hardest to make you understand that my gaze will never stray, my heart will never wander, and my mind will never hold another woman but you. Why is it that you don't believe me?"

Giving me no answer, she reached out and took my hands. "Josh, I talked to this Cathy on the phone before I got home last night. She told me about all the stuff you did for her, about how you willingly missed your test to deliver her package. She... It was obvious that she thinks real highly of you."

While on the subject, I looked toward the clock. 11:35. I should get going.

Sensing my anxiety, she dropped my hands. "You should get going."

"No. I still have plenty of time." I didn't want to leave her like this. I shouldn't.

She saw right through my lie. Smiling sadly, she stroked my cheek. "You could never lie to me very well. Go. Don't make her wait there."

"But... "

"Just promise me one thing, ok?" I nodded. "Remember the first night we met? You walked me home that night, even though it meant a near hour walk back to the dorms. I thought that was the sweetest thing anyone could've done for me. I wanted to jump you right there, but managed to hold myself off." She paused, as if uncertain of what to say next.

"I could hear it in her voice. She's feeling the same way I did that night. The problem is that she might not have my self control."

I turned away so she couldn't see the grimace of hurt on my face. "It doesn't matter. I have enough control to stop. It doesn't matter if she can't."

"I'm just worried that in the heat of the moment... "

"You are implying that you're worried about me?" She didn't answer me. I snorted. "Not to worry. I'll act accordingly."

She grabbed my hand. "Josh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like... "

I removed myself from her grasp firmly if not coldly. "You are right about one thing. It is time for me to go."

"Josh... "

I could hear the pleading. Hardening myself, I opened the door. Without even a backwards glance, I walk out. "See you later."

I managed to get to her car before my vision started to blur from restrained tears.

"Nice car," Cathy remarked as we walked to where I had parked. It was an understatement. Lizzie's blue Mercedes SLK230 convertible was only one of the many things her parents insist she take to college with her. Sure, I could've taken my old Volvo, but I felt uncomfortable about it. Picking up Cathy with the car that I had bumped into her with would've been just too weird. "Thanks. I wish I could enjoy that compliment, but it's not mine."

"Tsk tsk, Mr. Shepard," she clucked, shaking a finger at me. "Now we're adding grand theft auto to your growing lists of accomplishments? I thought turning little girls into cripples would be enough for a week."

I smiled. Despite the awful mood I had been in when I left Lizzie's apartment, I found myself charmed by Cathy Hamilton. She had an air about her that just made people around her feel comfortable. "Very funny, Miss Hamilton. What I meant is that it's Lizzie's car, not mine."

"Ugh! 'Miss' Hamilton?!" She made a face. "What kind of name is that? Please feel free to call me Cathy. It's what all my friends call me."

"Sure, Cathy. But only if you call me Josh. Mr. Shepard is something that I'm not use to in public." That was, of course, a lie. I had heard that term being used plenty of times this morning and last night, but that had been in private.

"Deal!" She cheerfully sat back and enjoyed the fresh air. I had put the top down ever since the weather warmed up. The wind picked up as I pull out of the hospital's parking lot, blowing her auburn hair everywhere. She tucked the wild locks behind her ears.

As I drove, I unconsciously studied the teenager sitting beside me. Now I could understood why Lizzie had been so insecure this morning. If I had not already fallen in love, I would've with Cathy. She had a beautiful face, full of life, and a look of maturity that bellied her sixteen years. Losing the thick jacket that she had been wearing yesterday, she now had on a white polo shirt and a black pleated skirt. The clothes she wore now showed off her form perfectly. Unlike those prepubescent girls or anorexic models (though prepubescent girls usually imitate anorexic models), she had lovely full legs. As my eyes wander upwards, I also noticed that she had beautifully formed hips, and an ass that only a teenager could possess. Gazing ever upward, I also noted that her shirt was filled out very nicely. Her breasts were not grossly oversized, but agreeably full. In fact, everything about her was nice...

'What the hell am I doing?' I screamed mentally at myself. I've already found the perfect woman for me, and she was probably crying her eyes out at home because of the exact thing I've been doing. I tried at conversation, hoping that small talk would distract me from ogling her.