June, Reimagined (76)
His tongue glided along her neck, her collarbones. Soon, June’s shirt and bra were off, discarded on the floor. His hand traveled the length of her inner thigh before unbuttoning her pants, fingers teasing the soft fabric of her underwear before traveling further down and making her gasp. His mouth found her breast, his teeth teasing her nipple until she moaned. Her nails dug into his bare back as she tried desperately to hold on, not to unravel. Their heat, their sticky sweat, their rhythmic pulse, inching them closer together.
When Lennox finally entered June, they both gasped. They clung to each other, moving deeper and deeper until she was consumed with him and he with her, staring into each other’s eyes, pleading for more, aching for sweet relief.
Lennox braced himself over June. “Stay with me, Peanut,” he whispered. “Stay with me.”
She clung to his arms, her fingernails digging into his tattoo, and bit her bottom lip, desperate to hold on to the sensation of him. June wanted nothing more in that moment. Just Lennox. Forever. When they both finally gave in, she wailed at the release, unable to contain herself. They collapsed, euphoric and exhausted.
Later, the bedsheets lazily draped across them both, Lennox slept peacefully. June watched his chest rise and fall, the beautiful life in him, the air coming and going in rhythm. The small movements of his body. So beautiful. So strong. So brave.
June eased out of bed carefully, though she doubted he would wake after the night he’d had. She crept downstairs, clothes bundled in her arms, and dressed quickly. Her backpack smelled slightly of smoke, but inside were her passport and wallet, fully intact and without a burn mark on them. Little did Lennox know that the act of saving Josh’s urn and June’s few possessions now offered her the chance to bestow the same grace to Lennox. She wanted him more than she had wanted anything before. And she was sure now that Lennox wanted her. But in his beautiful admission lay a deeper truth.
June was not good for Lennox. He had saved himself five years ago when he got sober. Every day, June had wished that same fate for Josh. If she could go back, she would have done anything to make it happen. Even if that meant saying goodbye. So she could not become the reason Lennox lost hold of his sobriety. He had saved her life months ago, and now it was June’s turn to save his.
Gray clouds hung over Knockmoral as June held Lennox’s house phone to her ear, listening for an answer on the other end. When the call connected, she said, “Don’t hang up. It’s me.” The words that came next felt like razor blades, but she needed to put an end to this rash escapade. “You were right. I don’t belong here.”
Then June walked out of Lennox’s house the same way she had entered his life—bag in hand, a traveler in need of absolution.
THIRTY
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Missing funds
Dear June,
It has come to our attention that you have withdrawn all scholarship funds from your account. We have contacted your parents and spoken with Stratford College. Neither seems to have any idea where you are.
As you are aware, using scholarship funds on non-educational purchases puts you in violation of your contract with the Women’s Club of Sunningdale and thus revokes your scholarship and all future payments.
I’m sorry it had to end like this.
Best,
Mary Tobin
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Attendance
Dear Ms. June Merriweather,
We have received notice of unexcused absences in one or more of your classes for a total of 60 days this semester. You have been automatically unenrolled from Stratford College. To address this issue, please contact the Admissions Office.
Regards,
The Admissions Office
52 Court Street
Lyons, TN
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: I love you
Honey,
What happened in Scotland? What do you mean you made a mistake and needed to leave? Just know that, no matter what happened, we love you and the light is on when you want to come home. Nothing will ever change that.
Mary Tobin called from WCS. I swear that woman gets off on gossip. Don’t worry. I told her I had no idea where you are.
I hope Paris is as wonderful in real life as it looks in your pictures. But if I’m being honest, and I’m really trying to do that these days, nothing compares to Scotland.
I love you,
Mom
June sat on the steps of Sacré-Coeur as the sun set over Paris. A beret was perched on her head, and she wore a sweatshirt that said Paris Is for Cheese Lovers. The city was mostly cool and rainy in the spring, but the clouds had parted, and rays of light shined down on the City of Lights in shades of red, pink, orange, and yellow.
Around June, the steps of the basilica were lined with people. A small band had gathered to play. People danced and kissed and ate baguettes with cheese and ham and lazily sang along while sipping wine.
For the past seven days, June had come to the church, leaving the confines of her small hotel room in Montparnasse to take the Métro north to the city center, to the Chateau Rouge stop, walking to the steps of Sacré-Coeur to wait for him. It had become a sort of pilgrimage. When doubt niggled at her, and she thought he might never show, June reminded herself that she had nowhere else to go. She could wait, at least until the money ran out.