by Emma Quinn
I slumped in my seat and let out a heavy sigh. “That could have gone better.”
Peter strode over and placed a kiss on the top of my head. “Maybe, but at least it’s done now. I’ll make sure to have the rent payments sorted out for you.”
“You don’t have to,” I began to protest.
“I insist. It’s really nothing.”
I stood up slowly and slipped my hand into Peter’s. “I guess we should get going then.”
“Sounds good.”
“Did you maybe want to grab something to eat while we were in this part of town?”
“In this part of town? No. I was thinking we could get some pizza.”
“Did you have a place in mind.”
“Italy.”
I choked out a laugh. “Very funny.”
Peter tugged on my hand. “I’m serious, baby. I can get us on a flight to Milan in an hour.”
My eyes widened. Travel had never really been a big interest to me, mainly because I couldn’t afford it. But now that I was with Peter, everything in the world suddenly felt like a possibility. “Oh, wow. Okay. You’re serious?”
“When am I ever not serious?”
“Very true. I don’t have to brush up on my Italian, do I?”
“No, that’s alright.”
I gave his hand a squeeze and giggled. “Well, then. Let’s get going shall we?”
20
David
O
h my God. Oh my God, what was happening?
I ran as far as my legs would take me. I just couldn’t stay in that apartment anymore. Not with him. Not with her telling me that she was leaving. None of this felt right, but I only had myself to blame. If only I told Rachel the truth sooner, if I managed to muster up enough courage to tell her that I loved her and I had been for a very long time, maybe then Peter wouldn’t have been able to sink his claws into her. What devilish spell had he managed to cast on her to make her see the world behind rose-colored glasses? What could I do to make this stop?
The answer didn’t come to me.
It didn’t come to me when I wandered into a bar a little ways up town. It didn’t come to me after my first beer, or my second, or my third. I thought if I drained my drinks, slowly but surely, I’d find the solution I was looking for at the bottom of my empty glasses. The sounds of the bar were overwhelming, drowning out my thoughts as my beer to hold my mind. People all around me were talking, laughing, sometimes shouting in joy as they hung out with dear friends and family. Country music blasted over the bar’s speaker systems, only adding to the noise. The scent of greasy fries, freshly grilled burgers, and savory onion rings wafted from the kitchen and filled my nose. My stomach grumbled in protest for some food, but I ignored the hunger.
I was sitting on a stool at the bar, mindlessly picking at a small basket of fries I’d ordered with my drinks. My thoughts were blank, a nice warm hum vibrating the base of my neck that left my eyes heavy and my breathing shallow. I wondered what Rachel and Peter were up to now. Had they already left the apartment? I hoped so. By the time I got back, I didn’t want to see either of them. I didn’t know if I could handle it. If I waited another hour or so, maybe the coast would be clear by then.
I looked about the bar and let the pretty lights of the liquor display distract me further. The scent of cigarettes was wafting in from outside –likely thanks to a fry cook on his smoke break. It was only when I began looking about the space that my eyes fell upon a woman sitting by herself at the end of the bar. She looked older than the rest of the bar crowd, far more mature and regal than anyone I’d expect to come to a place like this. It was incredibly hard to place her age. Despite the greying hair at her temples, she looked incredibly youthful. To call her pretty would have been an understatement. In all reality, she was divine.
And she looked miserable.
The woman rested her chin on her hand and her elbow on the bar counter, absentmindedly tracing the rim of her martini glass with a perfectly manicured finger. She looked as miserable as I did. When she glanced up from her drink and our eyes locked for a moment, I felt a cold shiver run down the length of my spine. I looked away in an instant, too sheepish and far too drunk to trust myself in saying anything to her.
“Are you drinking to celebrate or drinking to forget?” she asked me, voice sweet and thick like honey.
“To forget,” I bumbled. “You?”
“To forget,” she confirmed, nodding her head slightly.
“What about?” I asked, simply because I couldn’t help myself. There was something entrancing about her, something warm and matronly that made me want to get closer.
The woman sighed. “My son’s being a pain. He’s decided to marry a girl he hardly knows. I’m pretty sure it’s just to spite me.”
I crinkled my nose. “Wow, that sucks. I’m sorry to hear that.”
She chuckled, the corners of her lips ticking upwards. “And you?”
“It’s a long story.”
The woman shrugged her shoulders and gestured at the bar. “Well, I’ve got nothing but time. Who knows? Maybe you’ll feel better after talking to someone.”
I sighed. A pressure had been building in my chest for hours, but I’d done my best to keep everything suppressed and tamped down. Perhaps this stranger was right. Maybe I’d feel better if I let off a little steam. “My roommate,” I said slowly, “I’m in love with her.”
“Ooh, that’s always fun. I’m guessing you never told her?”
I shook my head slowly. “No. I’m too much of a coward.”
“What’s stopping you?”
“Well, it used to be that I was worried about what it would do to our relationship. We’ve known each other forever. We’ve had each other’s backs ever since we entered the foster care system together.”
The woman straightened her back, interest piqued. She slipped off her seat at the far end of the bar and move around it, taking the vacant seat directly to my right. “And what about now? What’s happened?”
I rubbed my hands over my face. “It’s so messed up. She’s getting engaged.”
“Shouldn’t you be happy for her?”
“It’s not that simple. They’re not really getting married. It’s all for show. He’s paying a ton of money, and now they’re moving in together.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Isn’t that messed up?”
The woman stared at me, eyes wide in amazement. She looked like an epiphany had struck her, practically glowing with inspiration. “Yes,” she hummed softly. “Very messed up. By any chance, what’s your roommate’s name?”
I frowned. “Uh, her name’s Rachel. Why?”
She gripped my wrist, sharp nails digging into my flesh. My heart seized in a sudden panic. I tried to pull away, but the woman was freakishly strong. “And the man she’s supposed to be engaged to. What’s his name?”
I swallowed. I was scared that if I didn’t answer, this woman might just be crazy enough to hurt me. “P-Peter,” I stuttered. “Peter Alance.”
She released me in a hurry, smiling so wide that I was scared her jaw would unhinge and swallow me whole. Who was she? What did she want? What did she know? The woman patted me on the cheek. “You, young man, have been a fantastic help. I feel better already.” Without another word, she paid for both her drinks and mine before practically skipping out the bar doors.
“Um, okay,” I breathed, turning back toward the bar to try and drown the sinking feeling that was now in the pit of my stomach.
21
Peter
I
wound up heading back to my apartment early on Thursday evening in order to prepare for the professional movers I’d hired to help Rachel ship her things. I was busy moving furniture around so that there’d be space for her. It felt odd to clear out sections of my closet so Rachel had some place to put her clothes. It felt weird to buy a second toothbrush to keep in the bathroom. But it was weird in a good way, like the refreshing sensation of starting something new. I’d never
let a woman into my life like I had with Rachel. Now that I thought back, none of them could really compare to her. Rachel was intelligent. She was sweet and kind. She was prettier than I had words to properly describe her. And now, she was moving in with me and my heart couldn’t have been more excited.
I managed to work up a bit of a sweat from moving everything around, so I hopped into the shower to rinse off. The waterfall shower faucets hanging from my bathroom ceiling above the glass shower stall was my pride and joy. Hot water would thunder down over my head, drenching me within seconds to roll off my weary skin. The water pressure kneaded at my muscles, providing me with the much-needed relief I was looking for after all my hard work. The rush of water was deafening, slipping past my ears and hitting the shower floor like a continuous beat of a rolling drum.
Once I was finished, I toweled off my hair and wrapped a towel around my waist. I was eager to get dressed. I had an eventful night planned for Rachel and me. If she thought pizza in Italy was great, I couldn’t wait to see her reaction when I took her to Tokyo to try some real sushi, none of that Americanized crap with imitation crab and out-of-the-packet seaweed. I entered the bedroom, humming a small tune to myself as I mentally tried to figure out what I was going to wear. Maybe I’d try and be a little more casual today. Blending in with the crowd was really something I needed to consider now that I was hoping to openly date someone.
I froze the second I stepped through the door.
Lying on my bed was Anastasia, completely naked and wrapped up in my silk bedsheets.
“About time you got out of the shower,” she cooed. “I’ve been so bored waiting for you.”
“Anastasia, what the fuck are you doing here?”
She lifted herself off the bed and tread over, deliberately allowing the covers to slip from her torso. I looked up at the ceiling, face heating up with embarrassment on her behalf. There was no denying that she was beautiful, but the only naked woman that I wanted in my bed was Rachel.
“Teresa gave me the spare keys to this place,” she giggled as she began stroking my chest, wiping away the beads of water that were still dripping off me.
A bright, terrifying anger erupted from my core. “She what?” I hissed.
“She gave me the keys. Told me that you were expecting me.”
I shook my head furiously. “No. No, I need you to get out. I’m not interested in you, Anastasia.”
The woman looked like I just slapped her across the face. “But she said– She said that–”
“She lied to you,” I said firmly, taking a step as far back as I could. “You need to get dressed and leave. I’ll have a driver pick you up. You can go wherever you’d like, you just can’t be here.”
“But Peter, I–”
“Get out. Before Rachel gets ba–”
I must have seriously pissed someone off in a previous life because at that exact second, I heard the front doors to my apartment unlock. I’d ordered a new set of keys to be made for Rachel so that she could move about freely while moving her things. We’d agreed earlier to meet at my place before going to dinner, and now she was here. In the apartment. With me. And a very naked, very weepy Anastasia.
“Peter?” she called sweetly, treading across the big living room to come see me. “I’m sorry it too me so long to get here. The driver couldn’t find a spot to park. Are you all set to–”
Everything came crashing down around me. There was no time to hide, no time to explain. Rachel opened the door and froze, mouth dropping open when she saw the sorry state that I was in. A flurry of emotions seemed to pass over her. First shock, then hurt, then righteous fury, then heartbroken sadness.
“What’s…” She breathed shakily. “What’s going on? Peter, why is she here?” She sounded like she was on the verge of tears.
“Rachel, I can explain.”
Tears streaked her cheeks, hot and angry. Before I could get another word out, Rachel turned on her heel and ran away, slamming the apartment door closed behind her. The frame of the apartment shook violently in her retreat. I nearly tripped over my own legs in an attempt to chase after her, but I stopped when I realized I was still in nothing but a towel. This was bad. This was really, really bad. I needed to explain myself. And more importantly, I was going to have a serious talk with Mother.
I couldn’t get around it anymore. I needed to lay down the law with her. I was a grown man. She shouldn’t be meddling in my life like this anymore. I’d allowed these things to slide for far too long, and now Mother was finally hurting people I cared about because of how badly she wanted me to conform to her image of a perfect son. It didn’t matter how much money I made or how many businesses I ran. Things were never enough for Mother. And now, Rachel was the one paying the price. Her feelings weren’t meant to be toyed with, not by me and definitely not by Mother.
I trudged back to the bedroom and threw Anastasia’s clothes at her. “Get out,” I screamed. “Get out now!”
I’d never seen someone scurry away so quickly before.
22
Rachel
I
didn’t know what to do. I was just so angry that I couldn’t stop shaking. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs and cry my eyes out until they were dried up and useless. I wanted to lie in bed all day, covered in a pile of blankets –dead to the world. Peter had tried to explain himself, but I wouldn’t have it. What was there to explain? I could see as plain as day what had happened. Why else would there be a buck-naked woman in his bedroom?
“I’m such an idiot,” I grumbled into my pillow. I should have known that what I had with Peter was too good to be true. There was no way he was actually interested in me. He was just using me against his mother, to piss her off. I was just a plaything, a toy shield to keep him entertained and serve a higher purpose. I should have known he would return to his promiscuous ways the second he thought he could get away with it. He’d had hundreds of women before me, and he’d likely have hundreds after.
A soft knock at my door sounded, ripping me from my downward spiral. David opened the door to my bedroom by an inch or two.
“Rachel? Are you hungry?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t have the energy to find the words to respond.
“Rachel? You’ve been in bed for days. Don’t you have to go to work?”
“I’m not going to work,” I spat. “I quit.”
“You quit? S-seriously?”
“Leave me alone, Davie. I don’t feel like talking about it.”
“Ray, I–”
I threw my pillow at him. “Get out!” I screamed. It landed with an unsatisfyingly quiet thud against his chest. David easily caught it in his arms, all the while looking at me with pity. “You were right, okay?” I broke out into breathy sobs. “You were right. Go ahead and say, ‘I told you so.’”
“Ray, I didn’t… I’m sorry this is happening. I didn’t think you were serious about him.”
I rolled over and lay on my side, tucking my knees to my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ignore the awful headache that was crawling its way up the back of my neck and settling in the center of my forehead. I told myself I just needed to sleep things off. I needed to swallow the shame I felt, the anguish that threatened to drown me, and do my best to move on. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Being with a power-hungry man like Peter was asking for trouble. I wanted to hate him. I want to go to Alance Tech and scream at him, regardless of whether or not everybody else heard.
David carefully strode across the floor and sat on the edge of my bed. I refused to look at him. I was too embarrassed and hurt and my eyes were quite frankly so puffy from crying I wouldn’t be able to see him well anyways.
“I’m sorry, Ray.”
“Don’t be,” I grumbled.
“I know you don’t feel like it, but you have to eat something. How about we order something, and I’ll go pick it up? How do you feel about pizza? Maybe sushi?”
I bawled my eyes out instantly. I love
d going to restaurants with Peter to try new things, but we always swapped between Italian or Japanese –our two favorites. Did all those shared moments between us really mean nothing to him? How could he set me aside so easily?
Teresa’s words crawled out of the cracks of my mind and echoed around my skull.
She’s a nobody.
I sighed bitterly and pulled my covers back over my head. I felt stupid for trusting Peter. I felt like an idiot for allowing myself to fall for him. I hated myself for believing I was worth his time.
“Get whatever you want,” I mumbled.
David stayed for a few seconds, saying nothing. I didn’t want his pity. He was right about Peter from the get-go. Nevertheless, I couldn’t understand why I got the sense that David was feeling guilty about something. Maybe he regretted what he’d said about Peter. Maybe he just didn’t like seeing me like this.
Either way, my chest ached too much to care any longer.
23
Peter
I
never visited Mother at her cottage in the Hamptons. I didn’t like making the trip, but this definitely necessitated one. We were going to have words, and that was final. My driver rolled up onto the lot and parked just outside Mother’s three-door garage. I got out immediately and slammed my fist against the front door while simultaneously ringing the doorbell like a madman. Inside, I could hear someone furiously stomping towards me.
The door swung open rapidly, sucking in the air around me with one giant whoosh.
“Peter?” Mother gawked. “What are you doing here?”
I shoved past her and let myself in. There was no doubt in my mind that we were going to have a fight, but that didn’t mean I wanted her nosy neighbors overhearing us. “You know exactly why I’m here.”
“Peter, what’s–”
“You sent Anastasia to my place. You purposefully planted her there because you knew Rachel would catch the two of us together.”