Eastern Lights

by Brittainy Cherry

  They turned to me with narrowed eyes. They looked like dang teenagers, obviously too young to be handling such a prize. “Uh, what?” one muttered.

  “I said don’t touch that cake!” I probably looked wild in the eyes because I felt completely wild in my heart. “Don’t move it.” I turned toward the other caterers and ordered them to stop breaking down the place settings. I shouted for the DJ to stop unplugging his equipment. I cried for the bartender to stop wiping everything down.

  I just needed the perfect room to stay that way for a little bit longer.

  “Aaliyah…” Connor’s voice was low and sad. Not his normal sad but a new kind of sad for me.

  I cringed at the sound. It’s worrisome when Eeyore feels bad for you.

  I must’ve looked crazed.

  “Connor, make them stop. Please. I just—make them stop. Make them stop,” I pleaded, staring his way as if he was my only ally.

  “They have to do their job…”

  I took a deep breath and swallowed hard as tears began to fall down my face. “I just need more time.”

  He narrowed his eyes. He didn’t understand me. He didn’t know where my irrational emotions were coming from. If there was anything Connor didn’t understand, it was others’ emotions. He never stayed around long enough to witness them.

  “You’re being unreasonable,” he told me. Not rudely, just matter-of-factly. It seemed Connor didn’t have a rude bone in his body.

  “I know, but please.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, and defeat deflated his shoulders as he turned to the crew. “Leave everything as it is,” he told them.

  “But sir, we were ordered—”

  “Everything is paid for,” Connor said quickly. “The room, the time, your services. So the least you can do is let the bride partake in the festivities.”

  “But…she’s not a bride,” another said. “The wedding was called off.”

  She’s not a bride…

  I hadn’t known words could sting until I heard those ones fall against my eardrums.

  Connor gave that individual a look and then narrowed his eyes. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “I’ll pay you each three hundred dollars to continue the reception activities.”

  For the first time that afternoon, guilt found its way to me. “No. I’m sorry, Connor, we can go—”

  He held a silencing hand up to me, pulling out the cash.

  The workers all glanced toward one another then shrugged their shoulders as they walked over to Connor and began collecting their payment for keeping a wannabe bride from having a mental breakdown.

  Or, well, for helping a wannabe bride partake in her mental breakdown.

  Because nothing about what I was doing was sane.

  The DJ started playing music, and I moved to the middle of the dance floor. The lights flashed, and I swayed back and forth, staring at the almost life I’d missed. Then the wave of emotions came crashing into me as a slow song came on. My knees began to buckle, and my eyes began to flood with emotion. The second I began to fall, with the aim of hitting the floor, I was surprised when Connor stopped me.

  He pulled me up and he held me in his arms. He swayed back and forth with me. “I got you, Red. I got you.”

  When I began to fall, he was there to catch me.

  “I broke my promise to you,” I said. I rested my tired head against his shoulder as he moved back and forth.

  “What promise?”

  “You said to never fall for a man who wouldn’t dance with me. He wouldn’t have done this,” I whispered, crying onto his shoulder. “He would’ve never danced with me.”

  “Then why did you choose him?”

  I sniffled and didn’t reply because my answer felt too pathetic to face.

  Because I was alone and scared of being alone and scared for the small remainder of my life that would’ve been experienced alone.

  “Why did you say that the last time we saw each other? Why did you tell me not to marry him? Did you think I wasn’t good enough for him?”

  He arched a bewildered brow and shook his head. “No. Of course not. I just knew he was nowhere near good enough for you.”

  I wanted to believe those words, but still, it was hard.

  We kept dancing until the crew had finally had enough and kicked us out.

  “Where would you like me to take you?” Connor asked.

  “I don’t know. I have nowhere to go. I can’t go to Jason’s penthouse. It’s not mine. It’s his, and I have no one, nobody to…I have nowhere to go and—”

  “You’ll stay with me tonight,” he said, cutting into the panic rising in my chest. “You’ll stay with me.”

  15

  Connor

  I showed Aaliyah to one of my spare rooms and gave her a change of clothes. She thanked me quietly before she went into the room, closing the door behind her.

  If there was anything she needed that night, it was rest.

  I headed back to my office. I felt exhausted but knew I probably wouldn’t be able to sleep any time soon. Therefore I’d do what I did best: pour myself into work.

  Around one in the morning, my phone dinged.

  Jason: Hey. Did everything work out?

  Did everything work out?

  The nerve of the asshole. I’d sent him a million text messages that day, called a billion times, and left a trillion voice messages begging for him to reply. To at least call Aaliyah. To man up and answer for the massive storm he had created. To face the broken heart he had destroyed. Yet I hadn’t heard a peep from him for almost twenty hours, and when he did reply, that was all he had to say.

  Did everything work out?

  Jason: Is Aaliyah okay?

  He couldn’t be serious.

  He couldn’t be that idiotic to think there was any kind of scenario where Aaliyah was anywhere close to being okay.

  I wanted to cuss him out. I wanted to rip the fucker a new one for thinking any of his actions toward that poor girl were okay. Sure, Aaliyah was a hot mess, but it was because she really cared about the dick. She was the first girl I’d seen Jason with who looked at him as if he were someone worthy of being with. Plus, when she wasn’t completely destroyed, she was kind, graceful, and beautiful inside and out. She had a pure heart, and Jason had felt the need to destroy it.

  He’d disappeared without anything more than a few words scribbled on a piece of paper, leaving me to clean up his mess, his mistakes. He’d left as if leaving was the easiest thing for him to do.

  So that night, I ignored him. I ignored his messages, I ignored his fake concern, and I secretly hoped karma would find its way to him, if only for that night.

  When I got up to head to bed, I was surprised when I heard sniffling from the guest room. She was still up and clearly crying. Without thought, I headed over and knocked on the door. When she opened it, I felt as if I’d been sucker punched. She looked drained. Destroyed.

  “Sorry, was I being too loud?” she asked.

  “No, no. It’s not that.” I frowned and crossed my arms. “I just wanted to say you’re important.”

  “What?”

  “You’re important. I want you to know that fact to counter any person who’s ever made you feel as if your existence isn’t of value. This world is better because you’re here.”

  She let out a low chuckle. “How did you know I was feeling unimportant?”

  “Because even though I’ve only spent short amounts of time with you, I know you care and feel things deeply.”

  She leaned against the doorframe. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m afraid that before I die, I’ll never find my person, or my family. I’m afraid I’ll always be alone until my final day.”

  “That’s not true. You’re a leading lady.”

  “What if I don’t get the hero?”

  “That’s fine, too. Contrary to popular belief, you can still have a happily ever after without anot
her person being involved. Sleep tonight,” I ordered, nodding once.

  “I’ll try.”

  “Sleep tonight,” I repeated, brushing away the few stray tears that danced down her cheeks with my thumb.

  “I will.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I am.”

  “Do you want me to sit with you? So you don’t feel alone?”

  Her lips parted for a second before she shook her head. “No. I can’t ask you to do that. I’m okay. Really, it’s fine.”

  That was enough to convince me she needed me to stay. She was terrified of loneliness. I saw how it was eating at her that night. I refused to leave her alone in that state of mind.

  I walked into the room and sat down in the desk chair. She climbed into the bed and quietly thanked me for doing that small act. It was the least I could do. I couldn’t take away her pain that night. I couldn’t unplug the wild thoughts racing through her mind. I couldn’t even begin to understand an ounce of what she was feeling.

  I did the only thing I could do for a woman who had been abandoned and left stranded alone. I did the only thing that felt right. I stayed.

  16

  Aaliyah

  Daylight poured into the bedroom through the curtains, and I groaned as it hit my cheeks. I had yet to open my eyes, the pounding of my brain making me feel nauseous. I wanted to rip my head off my body for the way it was spinning. I was certain meeting the sunlight would only intensify the awful feeling.

  I reached to my right to locate my phone, which I always plugged in at night and left on my nightstand but I gasped when my hand fell straight down instead of tapping the table.

  My eyes opened, and instant panic hit me as I sat up in the bed, realizing it wasn’t my bed at all. Every hair on my body stood straight up as a strong panic began to overtake my whole system. Where was I? And whose bed was I lying on?

  Then it all came back to me. The wedding. The night before. Connor.

  I sat in his oversized T-shirt and gray sweatpants, which made my level of panic skyrocket to new heights. I started to recall the previous night, the ending of my relationship, the meltdown that came afterward, and Connor.

  I glanced to the other side of the bed, where a nightstand was located. Sitting on it was a glass of water and a piece of paper.

  I crawled over to and picked up the piece of paper.

  Red,

  You’re okay.

  -Captain

  I made the mistake of glancing in the mirror, which reflected my heartbreak in smeared makeup and tearstains. I looked like a raccoon with the eyeliner and mascara spread around.

  The apartment smelled like bacon, which meant Connor was up and active. With slow movements, I walked out of the bedroom to find a huge, open space. His penthouse had an open layout that was modern and bright. The floor-to-ceiling windows were soaked in the sunlight that had awakened me.

  “Hey,” I muttered to Connor, whose back was to me as he stood in his kitchen area, stirring something on the stovetop.

  He glanced over his shoulder, which had a dish towel resting on it, and gave me a half-grin. “Morning, sunshine.”

  What an ironic thing to say. There was nothing sunny about my shine.

  He turned back to the stove, turned off the heat, and then walked over in my direction. I’d already found my way over to his kitchen countertop, where I took a seat on a stool and lowered my head to the island in complete defeat.

  “Sorry I wasn’t in there when you woke up. I saw you stirring for a while and figured you’d be waking soon. I decided to get up and start breakfast.”

  “You really stayed in there all night long?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  Even the saddest parts of my soul felt warmth from that. “Thank you, Connor. I’m sorry, for everything. I’ll get out of your hair right away. I know I’ve been a burden, and I won’t be for any longer.”

  “How do you like your grits?” he said, almost as if he hadn’t heard what I said about leaving.

  “What?”

  “Grits—how do you like your grits? I made bacon, too, along with some scrambled eggs.”

  “I don’t even know what grits are.”

  The look of shock and hurt that hit his face made me almost want to laugh. If I hadn’t felt physically and emotionally crushed to my core, he would’ve received a laugh.

  “Grits are only the best breakfast in the whole world. It might be a Southern thing, but it’s a good Southern thing. I normally make cheesy grits, but I ran out of cheese. You can add a little sugar on top of them, though and muah!” He gave a chef’s kiss.

  “I’m not really hungry,” I explained, feeling my stomach still flipping.

  “I know, which is exactly why you need to eat,” he explained, grabbing a plate from his cupboard.

  I shook my head. “No, really, Connor. I just need to go home. I feel…”

  Awful.

  Sad.

  Broken.

  Free?

  Wait, no. Not that.

  He looked at me, and his lips turned down into the saddest frown. He felt bad for me. I couldn’t blame him. I felt bad for myself, too.

  “Are you sure you don’t want any food? I left out some more sweats so you can shower and change into them, if you need. Plus, maybe after you shower, you’ll want something to eat.”

  I gave him a half-smile. “Yeah, thanks. Then I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “No rush, Red. Truly.” Connor seemed unbothered by my broken-down appearance. He stood tall and calm as ever. “Your cell phone is on the dresser in the bedroom, fully charged. Take all the time you need, and when you’re ready, I can have my driver take you wherever you need to go.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Any time.”

  I stood from the chair and began moving in the direction of the bedroom. Then I paused and looked back at Connor.

  “Connor, wait.” He looked over his shoulder toward me, and I swallowed hard. “I know I don’t have a right to ask you this, but the thought just keeps running through my head, and I’m not sure I can make it go away unless I ask you…”

  He stood silent, waiting.

  I bit my bottom lip. “Was there another woman that you knew of? Was Jason seeing anyone else?”

  The corners of his mouth twitched, and he slid his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

  His silence was my answer.

  “Did you know her?” I asked.

  “Don’t do this, Aaliyah,” he whispered.

  “Do what?”

  “Make it hurt more than it has to.”

  His words stung me, yet it was my own fault, really. I’d known who Jason was from the beginning, and I still allowed myself to fall for him. I’d walked into his spiderweb, knowing I was an ant.

  “Everyone always told me, in a way. At all those social events, they always hinted at the man Jason used to be.”

  They were all right. I was just another mark on the timeline of women Jason crossed paths with. I had wanted so desperately for them to be wrong. I’d wanted to prove them wrong, and I’d wanted to prove to myself that I was enough. Now everyone was laughing at me from their mansions, thinking, I told you so.

  I rose my head up to look at Connor.

  Except for him.

  His eyes were on me, and he wasn’t so quiet. I didn’t mean in his tones, but rather his stance. The way his shoulders were low and his lips slightly moved. The way his arms crossed and his head tilted to the left a little. The way his blue eyes seemed as calm as the ocean at nightfall.

  Nothing about his body language read “I told you so.” Nothing about Connor was laughing in my face at my stupidity for loving Jason. Nothing about him was calling me a fool.

  All that sat in his eyes was sorrow.

  He felt bad for me.

  I had to tear my stare away from him, because his sadness for me only made my heart ache more. I went to take a long, hot shower as my tears intermixed with the water droplets
slamming against my body, and I welcomed the sadness. I didn’t try to fight it. I didn’t try to avoid it. I didn’t try to talk myself out of the hurting. No, I allowed the pain into my heart. I let it burn.

  17

  Aaliyah

  I often wondered who the first person was to ever fall in love.

  Did they know what it was right away, or did it feel like extreme heartburn? Were they happy? Sad? Was the love a two-way street, or was it a solo affair? How long did it take to get there? How many days, months, and years did they travel before the love arrived?

  Were they scared?

  Did they speak the words first or wait for the other to do the talking?

  In all of my favorite storybooks, there had been an insta-love moment. I loved when a character said they fell completely in love the moment their eyes met. While I’d always been a hopeful romantic, it was hard to believe that would ever happen in real life, yet still, I loved the idea of it all. I loved that it could happen, maybe, even if only in make-believe worlds. I loved the idea that love worked in whatever way it wished. I liked the thought that love swept in at its own speed, not believing in time, space, or constraints.

  It showed up sometimes welcomed, other times not, and it filled people up inside.

  Then in many cases, that love shifted. It cracked, it bled, it left scars that would never fully heal. It opened a door for distrust, self-doubt, and pain. I sometimes thought life would be better if love never existed because if love wasn’t real, heartbreak couldn’t occur either.

  I lately wondered who the first person was to ever fall out of love. Did they see it coming? Was it a slow build? Did it start with small annoyances, or did they wake one morning and realize the love was gone? Did they mourn it? Did they walk away easily? How many days, months, and years did they travel before the love evaporated?

  I wondered if losing love hurt them to the same extent it’d wrecked me over the past few hours.

  Connor offered to ride back to my place with me, but I declined the offer. All I wanted to do was be alone for a while. As the car pulled up to the penthouse in SoHo, I grew nauseous. Part of me wanted to rush upstairs, pack my things, and hurry away without being seen. A bigger part of me hoped Jason was sitting up there, ready to tell me everything from the past twenty-four hours was a big mistake.