by Skyla Madi
“Can I talk to you for a second?” I ask, unable to meet his gaze.
Instead, I watch as Fiona glides across the space in her gorgeous high, black leather boots and introduces herself to Wade, Lauren, and Lara.
“Now? It can’t wait until after dinner?”
“Not if you have more surprises lined up for me.” I look him in the face and force my expression to soften. “Please?”
With a sigh, he nods, and I lead the way down the hall toward our bedrooms. In a few long strides, we reach the end and are well out of earshot of our dinner guests.
“What are you doing, Nick?” I demand as kindly as I can, crossing my arms over my chest.
He lifts a thick brow, like I’ve asked a stupid question, and I realize as I look at him that I barely recognize him anymore. A face I enjoyed seeing after a long day’s work no longer brings me the same comfort. Nick was all I had in New York. He was someone I confided in, trusted, and cared for. What happened? Before Caleb even came back into the picture, what happened to him? To me?
“What?” Nick asks, copying my stance.
The fact he’s playing dumb and is going to make me explain it to him already has irritation prickling across the back of my neck. I mean, is it not obvious?
“What’s with the dinner, the handholding, and calling me babe?”
He shrugs, and it’s not half as endearing as it is when Caleb does it. “I’m making up for the other night.”
My stomach sinks. This is what I feared the moment I arrived home to a home-cooked meal, a houseful of guests, and the return of my estranged best friend. He thinks we’re still together, that all he has to do is put a Band-Aid over the wound and we’re good to go from here. I can’t, in good conscience, condone it. He called me all sorts of things over the phone. Derogatory names I’d never use against my worst enemy. He questioned the state of my mental health, berated the size of my brain, and made accusations about my sex life. What kind of woman would I be to sweep it under the rug? Nick has waved red flags in front of my face our whole relationship, but I’ve looked past them for all the wrong reasons. He crossed a line the night of our argument. He’s so vile, narcissistic, and abusive, not even our friendship can be salvaged. His presence leaves an icky ball of anxiety in my chest.
I blow a soft air out of my nose. “There’s nothing to make up for. We broke up.”
Nick smiles at me and, for the first time tonight, it makes my heart pound. “We argued. It happens.”
I tilt my head. Forget butterflies: my stomach is alive with flesh-eating nerve termites and they’re wreaking havoc on my system. I’ve never had to break up with anyone before. How do I get it through to him gently? Safely? I’ve known our whole relationship Nick is an unstable firework. One wrong word, one wrong situation, will set him off. I never minded it since it was never directed at me…until now.
“We broke up, Nick,” I tell him. “We aren’t a thing anymore.”
“I wasn’t serious, Cassia. I had a bad day at work—”
“I was serious,” I say, unable to hide the irritation from my tone. “You were cruel to me.”
Nick cuts his eyes at me, his brown irises darkening into a shade too dark for my liking. “I cooked and invited your friends—”
I shake my head. “This isn’t about that.”
“Because you only focus on the negatives. You find fault in everything I do. I try to be a good guy and do something nice for you and you throw it back in my face. I cooked for you. I invited your friends—”
“Caleb, Wade, and his girlfriends? Really?” I cut in, shifting my weight onto my left leg.
Of all the people I know in New York, of all the friends I’ve made, his first few to contact are our next door neighbors? I’m not buying it.
“You seem close with them. Caleb, especially.”
I tilt my head, unimpressed. He’s been waiting to cast that lure all night, but I won’t bite. No, thank you. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Say it in that tone.”
“What tone? I don’t have a tone.” He purses his lips, and I can all but hear his next sentence drip from his mouth. “I see the way he looks at you, the way you look at him too.”
I knew it. He just can’t help himself. Turning away, I laugh and tears sting my eyes because I can’t deny it. I can’t deny Caleb and what I feel for him. It wouldn’t be right, even if it’s to save face in front of a man who wants so badly to be right and rub my nose in it.
“It’s like I told you on the phone and in the text I sent…” I turn back to Nick and straighten my spine and square my shoulders. If I can stand up to my father, I can stand up to Nick and assert my independence. “We’re done. We tried, but we didn’t work. Staying together will only delay the inevitable, and we’ve already wasted so much time.” I hate that my voice wavers. “I-I’ll move out as soon as I can find a place—”
He scoffs and screws his face up in an ugly sneer. “Good luck with that.”
I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s New York.” He leans in, and the scent of beer and wine wafts off him. “Decent apartments in good areas for your price range are hard to come by, and the ones worth applying for will want previous rental history and a reference.” The corner of his lips twitch, and tendrils of hatred carve their way through my bones. “Your fate here in New York is in my fucking hands. I could ruin it all for you, if I really wanted to. Send you back to that shitty town you came from.”
I ignore his dig. I wasn’t in Paradise Valley long. “We were never serious, Nick.”
“I’ve been serious about you since the beginning.”
“Why—”
“Because I’m in love with you!” he snaps, his voice low as it cuts me off. I flinch as heat flares in my cheeks, burning my blood. “And you couldn’t care less! You treat me like shit, Cassia. You always have.”
“That’s not true,” I bite back, baring my teeth. “You talk like I’m some kind of monster. I’ve been good to you.”
He laughs once. “Have you? Because I’ve been fucking miserable. I’ve given you everything. Every single thing you have in New York is because of me.” He tilts his head to glare down his nose at me. “You owe me.”
I balk, hating the way my face lifts in shock.
“I can’t believe you,” I utter. When did he become so dark? So evil? Has it always been there and I was too desperate for attention and affection to see it? “What happened to you?”
“What happened to me?” he seethes and whips his fist up to point his index finger in my face. “You fucking happened.”
“Whose fault is that?” I lean away from his finger, but he continues to push it in front of my face. “I told you I wasn’t ready to date.” I swipe at his hand. “But you insisted, remember?”
Smiling to himself, he reaches into the pocket of his black slacks and holds out a single key. I recognize it immediately, and I swallow as blood drains from my face and pools in my shoes.
Caleb’s apartment key.
How convenient. I’m not surprised he’s used it at the opportune time to push our argument back on me, but I am surprised he found it. I buried it deep, deep in my underwear drawer.
“I found this in the washing basket when I got home this afternoon.”
I scoff. The nerve of him, lying directly to my face, trying to deny the fact he didn’t go snooping through my things.
“No, you didn’t, but I’ll ignore that,” I argue. “Wade, Lauren, and Lara were supposed to go away for the weekend. He knocked on the door yesterday morning and asked me to keep an eye on Caleb. He’s not in a good place and, not that it’s any of your business, but a family member of his is dying in hospital.”
Nick points the key in my face and inches closer, towering over me. “Even if I do believe you, which I don’t, Caleb is not your problem.”
“I was being a decent human being,” I shoot back, leaning away from him.
“Y
ou haven’t been a decent human being a day in your life.” He throws the key at my chest. I flinch as it bounces off my right breast, hits the concrete floor, and slides underneath one of the doors. “Why start now?”
“You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
“I know enough.”
We stare at each other, neither one of us backing down. I wait for it, for him to throw his hands up and give in or kick me out.
He doesn’t.
And my blood pressure rises.
A few heartbeats pass and Nick steps forward, swallowing up a large chunk of space between us. Surprisingly, his expression softens, and his posture slackens, but his aura remains agitated and predatory, hungry for conflict.
“Give us another chance, Sia. It’ll be different. Now we’ve opened the line of communication, we can make it work.”
He takes another step and I inch back, jutting my palms out. “No. I’m sorry, but—”
He snatches my wrists and pulls my arms further apart. I squeak as he yanks me forward, unexpectedly. Wrapping an arm around my torso, he forces my arms around his waist and squeezes me against him.
“We were making such good progress.” He tangles his fingers in my hair and tugs my head to the side, exposing my neck. “Then you shut me out completely.”
Heavy stones of trepidation plonk into the soft tissues of my stomach, and I grimace, feeling dirty and shameful for allowing him to do the things he’s done to me in my rare moments of weakness. And for returning the favor.
“Let’s fool around tonight. I want to make it up to you. Show you how sorry I am.” Nick licks the lobe of my ear, and I shudder. It’s gross and invasive. “Let me worship you.”
Gritting my teeth, I try to wiggle free, but he tightens his grip. “Nick—”
He smashes his mouth to mine and kisses me harshly. Desperately. There’s no skill to his kiss. It’s a sloppy, forceful mess that threatens to upturn everything I’ve already eaten today. Pursing my lips, I wriggle. Somehow, I manage to squeeze my arms between us, separating our torsos, and I push against him. He continues to kiss me, gripping my hair so tightly my scalp burns, and it pisses me off. A rough, furious growl rips through my chest of its own accord, and I thrust my arms against him with everything I can muster. To my surprise, he releases me and stumbles back with a gasp and a curse. I swipe at my mouth, praying to God my lipstick is as waterproof as it claims.
“I don’t need your worship,” I snap, raking my fingers through my hair, tidying it. “I need you to stop fighting me on this.” I look Nick dead in the eyes so there’s no confusion. “I don’t want you.”
He tenses, void of any emotion, and silence falls between us, but I remain steadfast. I wanted to approach tonight delicately, but he’s made it impossible, and I’m at the end of my rope. It sucks, it really does, to see him in this light. The smoke and mirrors he used when we first got together are gone and I finally see him for what he truly is.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I did do this to him, but that’s more reason for this to end. He should want it to end if I treated him so badly. Why is he clinging to me when he’s admitted I’ve ruined his life? It doesn’t make sense and I’m tired of the confusion.
My heart thrashes in my chest as my words slowly sink in and his eyes turn soulless.
“I’m the best thing you’ll ever have, and when you realize it, it’ll be too late.”
He whirls on his heel and storms down the hall. I glance at the ceiling and blink back tears as they begin to prickle. They’re heavy, shameful, humiliating tears. I turn toward the wall and cover my face with my hands, breathing deeply to pull myself together. I can’t go back to the dinner table. I can’t face any of them after that embarrassing argument, but I can’t leave them sitting there either.
“Cassia?” Fiona utters behind me, and I startle, clearing my throat. “Oh, honey.”
She touches a gentle hand to my shoulder, and I whirl on my heel, throwing my arms around her. Tears drip onto my cheeks and I crush her to me, as if holding her tightly will make it all go away. I’m humiliated by what’s she’s witnessed—what our neighbors have witnessed too. Once he’s worked up, he has no control over his words, actions, or volume, and it’s so. Fucking. Disconcerting. Like a toddler who wants a toy in the shop, he doesn’t care who’s watching; he will make noise until I give in.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, my voice muffled by her thick, black sweater. “It’s such a mess.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” Fiona twists her spine, rocking me from side to side. “What an asshole. I had no idea.”
I pull back from her and swipe at my damp cheeks. “You heard it?”
She drags her brown stare to the blank, cream wall. “Not all of it…”
But enough. I press my hand to my stomach to stop my fingers from trembling, but the contact makes my stomach twist. “And Caleb?”
“He’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“He was pissed, Sia,” she utters, her voice low. “When he heard Nick yelling, he lost his shit. Wade and Lauren held him back as long as they could, but he’s pretty damn strong, you know, for a church boy.” She scratches at her hair and bites her lower lip. “I don’t know what happened in the hall, but he was furious when he came back.”
My lungs tighten. I fight the urge to hunch and curl my shoulders forward. He saw the kiss. I’m willing to bet everything I own that he did. “Where is he now?”
“He went outside for a cigarette.” Frowning, she tilts her head. “I didn’t know he smokes.”
“He doesn’t. Not really.” I rake my fingers through my hair and exhale. “Shit.”
Heat blossoms over every inch of me. I pinch my dress between my thumb and forefinger and pull the suffocating fabric away from my body. It doesn’t help any.
“Jesus, Cassia.” Fiona holds her hands out, like she’s expecting me to fall. “You look like you’re about to pass out. What happened?”
“Nick kissed me,” I tell her. “He would’ve…Caleb would’ve seen it.”
She puckers her pouty lips into a perfect circle. “That’s not good.”
“No. It isn’t.”
“Have you and Caleb…” I flatten my expression, and the question fizzles on her tongue. Have you and Caleb slept together? Nodding, Fiona bares her teeth, tightening her neck muscles. “Shit.”
“Nick and I broke up. Caleb needed—”
“No need to explain it to me. I get it.” She flicks her palm at me, then takes my hand in hers. “You want to be with Caleb?”
I nod without hesitation and withhold my speech on why I want to be with him, why I need to be with him. If I get into it, I’ll burst into tears.
“Then you should speak to him. Smooth things over.”
“Nick’s still out there?”
She nods, and the prospering seedling of hope in my chest crumbles.
“I can’t go to Caleb…not while he’s here.”
The thought of Nick sparking up a new argument stirs fear and unease in my chest. I can’t go another round tonight. I can’t go another round with him period. I have to move out…I have to find something as soon as possible, even if I go next door.
“Don’t worry about him. He doesn’t know Caleb’s outside, and he’s drunk anyway.” Fiona pats my hand and turns on her heel, pulling me along behind her. “I’ll keep him busy.”
Using her as a shield, I force myself forward. When I enter the open space, Fiona keeps walking toward the table, but I have my sights set on the large window across the room. She releases my hand and starts up a conversation with Nick. Without a glance in Nick’s direction, I march toward the window. I feel stares on me, but I ignore them and shove open the window. Cold air blasts my warm face, chilling the tip of my nose, but I force myself to climb out and onto the landing regardless, and I close the window behind me.
I don’t need to search for Caleb. He hasn’t gone far. He leans against the brick wall a few inches from the window,
his leg bent at the knee. Freezing air gnaws at my clothes, chilling my wooly dress and winter leggings thread by thread. New York’s winter is icy, harsh, and unforgiving, but it has nothing on the cold attitude exuding from Caleb as he taps an unlit cigarette against his thigh.
A sliver of moonlight streams between two buildings in front of ours and highlights a portion of Caleb’s face, mostly the straight line he holds his beautiful lips in. I stare at him for a small eternity, not quite sure what to say or where to start. This isn’t like every discussion or argument Nick and I’ve had in the past where I tiptoe around his feelings or forgo information. I’ve always been real with Caleb, and he’s always been real with me.
“Ca—”
Flicking his cigarette over the railing, he snaps forward. My breath hitches as he wraps an arm around my waist and clamps a hand over my mouth. I don’t fight it as he tugs me into him, even though my heart beats wildly in my chest. As our torsos crash together, he turns us and eases me against the cold wall in his place. Then he glares down his nose at me. “Don’t say my fucking name. I let you get away with too much. I put up with too much.”
Caleb’s hold on me is commanding and tight, but it isn’t threatening, like Nick’s. I know in my heart Caleb would never hurt me.
He holds me in his troubled gaze for several long heartbeats. His dark irises tell me his story and how deeply I’ve hurt him. Eventually, he exhales and uncovers my mouth. With a gentle swipe, he drags the pad of his thumb along my lower lip. “I don’t know why I bothered coming tonight. I should’ve known.”
Should’ve known? Should’ve known what? I’m as much a victim of this dinner as he is. Does he think I’m enjoying myself? That I enjoy seeing him in pain? That I’m happy with Nick sweeping our breakup under the rug and then embarrassing me in front of my neighbors and friends?