by Ashley Munoz
“Thought it’d be obvious,” he muttered, pulling a big blanket out of his duffle and laying it down on the couch. His tone was ice cold, and his demeanor was stiff.
I walked closer to the living room, crossing my arms. “Well it’s not. What are you doing?” I leaned my hip against the tall bar stool I’d been perched on moments earlier.
Jace looked up with that frozen glare of his. “I’m here makin’ sure you aren’t alone. You seemed to be pretty shaken up last night.” His Southern twang cut through the space between us as though I was being reprimanded. Something like pride and shame mixed together like a dangerous cocktail in my stomach.
“I don’t need any favors. I have Tom outside—it’ll be fine.” I wished my tone was stronger, more resolute, but I was nervous about my situation. Bryan had shifted the game board and I was insecure about his next move, but I didn’t want Jace here just because he felt obligated.
An irritated huff left his lungs as he fluffed his pillow on the couch. “This isn’t a favor, and I already told your bodyguard to head to his hotel. I’ve got it covered until tomorrow.” He stood from the floor where he was crouched, setting everything up. “What’s the dinner plan?” he asked, stalking toward the kitchen, pulling the fridge open.
Irritation burned in my chest, causing me to clench my fists. I already had one man manipulating me; I didn’t need another.
“Jace, just go home. I don’t need—”
“Why did you meet with him?” His glare cut through me like a hot knife in butter, and I felt like I needed to grab on to something with how angry he sounded. He stalked closer. “Why alone? I keep trying to add it all up, Faith, but it doesn’t make any sense. You said it was legal stuff, so I assumed that meant Gemma.”
I grasped any word I could find in my head, anything that would assuage his anger, but nothing was coming. I couldn’t tell him Bryan had threatened him because his pride would take a hit and he’d leave. I couldn’t say what game I was playing at because he’d be angry that I wasn’t already pressing charges.
His scoff brought me out of my thoughts. “Regardless, you came to me last night, for some reason, even after meeting with him alone.” He pointed at his chest forcefully. “Me, not him or Gemma, but me. You want to be honest about the feelings behind why you did that, or would you rather I just set up shop and stay?”
Frozen and confused, I stared him down as he stared right back. Honesty wasn’t something either of us was versed in since there was clearly still a lie sitting snugly between us. I certainly wasn’t going to be the one who made the first move or the first declaration. We’d kissed, touched, but words? We hadn’t shared those yet, not one about what this meant, what it would mean long term, or if it meant anything to him at all. He’d so carelessly talked about fucking me like I was the other girls, and that reminder burned like a quick shot of Listerine, wrong and horrific.
No, he wouldn’t get my truth first. Not until he shared his.
“That’s what I thought.” He shook his head back and forth, likely in disgust, and returned to digging through my freezer. He pulled a frozen pizza free and flipped it over, scanning the instructions. A moment later he leaned over to my oven and started the preheating process.
Needing some space from his frustration and his motor oil and fresh laundry smell, I walked back to my bedroom and shut the door.
Tears slipped down my heated face as I climbed into my bed. Jace was angry at me, and knowing he would never harm a hair on my head made his anger somehow worse than Bryan’s. Bryan had hurt me because his ego was bruised, and I had no problems fighting with him, knowing it was always a battle of pride and will. With Jace, it was a battle I could never win, because I didn’t need to fight him. No, in order to hurt him, all I needed to do was exist.
An hour later, a rumbling stomach had me leaving my room in search of the source of the Italian sausage smell that had invaded my apartment. Opening my door, I heard the sounds of laughter from the living room, along with clapping. Scratching my wrist, I tried not to be affected by the sight of Jace reclined on the couch with a fat smile on his face as he watched the television.
I walked toward the kitchen, eyes on the TV screen as I went. A tall man leaned over a large wheel and spun it as hard as he could. The small planks rotated, hovering too close to the bankrupt slot. The man cringed as it landed on the black plank at the last second. I smiled. “You still watch Wheel of Fortune?”
Jace didn’t look at me as he replied, “Every weeknight if I can make it home in time.”
I snagged two pieces of cold pizza and minced toward the opposite end of the couch from where Jace sat.
He didn’t seem to notice or care that I had adjusted my body against the soft leather of the couch and was digging my feet under the blanket he’d put on the sofa earlier.
We watched in silence as the new category and blank tiles popped up on the screen. I loved this part, when no one knew anything, when no vowels had been purchased or guesses made. I knew Jace loved it too; he’d always been so good with words.
The first contestant bought an O and spun the wheel again, creating a symphony of applause. I peeked at Jace over my pizza. Ever so slowly, I dug my feet closer to him, hoping he wouldn’t push me away.
He didn’t acknowledge it or respond, so I waited and watched the screen again.
Another spin ended in two more vowels and three consonants revealed. All I saw was a bunch of letters, and I had no idea what it could be when Jace blurted, “Miss America Pageant.”
The contestants hadn’t guessed anything yet. They were still draining all the vowel purchases they could, regardless of how much of the puzzle was showing. I swallowed my pizza and dared to scoot my feet closer to his legs. He still didn’t seem to notice what I was doing. Maybe I could get close enough to kiss him and start there with an apology.
I hadn’t been wrong, but at the same time, if the tables were reversed, I’d be hurt too.
A few more spins finally had someone guessing the puzzle, and sure enough Jace was right. He turned a megawatt smile on me while clapping his hands together. “It’s so easy—why do they drag it out like that?” he asked, scoffing a bit.
It wasn’t easy. I’d had no clue what those random letters would reveal, but I had always loved how good he was at this silly game show.
“You should go on the show, win a million dollars.”
He rolled his eyes at my remark, which made me feel foolish.
“If only it were that easy…” he muttered under his breath.
I wasn’t stupid; I knew it wasn’t that easy. I hated that he acted like I had changed that much over the past few years. I hadn’t. I was still bargain bin Faith, still that same haggle first, apologize later girl.
His gaze lowered to the couch, where my feet were slowly making their way toward him. I froze for a second, unsure of what he was going to do. A second later he let out a huff of air and stood up. He walked to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, and when he came back, he avoided the couch altogether, opting for one of the lounge chairs instead.
My heart sank.
My appetite dissolved in a moment, causing me to stand and discard my pizza on the counter. I poured a glass of water as the sound of the wheel spinning ricocheted around the room amidst more applause, laughter, and more small-town stories about the contestants who had wives and husbands waiting in the audience. I watched the boy I’d once loved smile at the television as he sipped his water. A tear slipped free, which was my cue to head to bed.
The boy I’d once known was gone. Whether he had let me go or I’d given up too easily…it didn’t matter. A monster had found me, and now I was nothing but a walking nightmare.
Twenty-Nine
This apartment was too big. It was too bright and too cold.
I shifted on the narrow couch and tried for the millionth time to fall asleep, but like it had done for the past few hours, my mind went back to that moment when Faith texted me about needing a ra
in check. Maybe I was too close to the situation to see clearly, or maybe I had been waiting for that other shoe to drop…but I’d known then she was meeting Bryan. So, when those images of the two together had shown up, it’d hurt more than I had expected it to. That paired with the text about Christmas…it was too much. It only proved that she had gotten too close, and I was being too careless with what was left of my heart.
It had thrust me back into that moment in that waiting room when I saw her on the screen attached to his arm, back to when my entire world fell apart.
Last night, when Seth and I were out catching a quick bite at the bar, I had thought…I didn’t even know what I’d thought. Maybe she’d asked me to dinner because she was feeling what I was feeling. Maybe we’d keep kissing and that thing that kept trying to click into place between us would finally connect. Then the fucking television—that, again, wasn’t on a sports channel—showed the exclusive: billionaire Bryan Vanderson out in Collierville, Tennessee, and reconnecting with his wife.
My gut tightened, my throat went dry, and my fucking heart flipped me the middle finger with an I told you so, sucker. He’d thrown her back over his knee and kissed the hell out of her. Camera flashes went off, a few people seemed to clap…she was in a tight black dress, looking gorgeous and very much the billionaire wife that she is. More than fifteen different people were kind enough to forward me the link after it aired, too. Fuckers.
Then she’d shown up on my doorstep, looking like she’d seen a ghost, knocking like the hounds of hell were after her. I hated the way I reacted to her, how childish and immature I turned when there was even a chance of heartbreak involved. After she left in her car, some invisible thread shit was at work, pulling me to her. If there was even a chance that Bryan had forced himself on her, there was no way in hell she was spending the night alone.
I knew she was going to her parents’ house, knew she’d be safe there…and yet I couldn’t leave her there. I needed her with me.
That was when I realized I was still in love with her, and it felt like I’d never fallen out of love. It was like someone had just picked up a dusty picture and blown all the dust away. We were still there, still alive…still beating.
But I was angry with her too. She’d lied to me. She’d pushed me away, then all this shit came out and I was just supposed to believe the best of her.
My pride wasn’t built that strong.
I rubbed absently at my chest as the thoughts turned over and over in my mind. She was too close, had too much access to me. She could ruin me with one quick text to her husband. One open thread on her phone to him, talking, communicating with him, and I would be done for.
I needed to know what I was to her, who I was to her. I needed her words, her promises, her body…I needed more from her than what she’d given me so far. Maybe that was why I had lied to her. When she’d asked about that look while we lay in bed in my trailer, I had lied about how Faith could be like every other girl I’d been with over the last few years. There’d only been three women, and Faith could never fall into a category any other woman had ever been in. Not even if it was a quick fuck, not even if it was a regret, not even if it was an accident—she would always be in a league of her own.
Huffing out an exasperated sigh, I sat up and ran my hands over my face. I thought of the look on her face when I’d chosen to sit on the lounge chair, when I’d distanced myself from her. I just couldn’t do what we’d done the night before, pretending there wasn’t this huge void between us.
Standing, I walked across the room. A sensible white bookshelf sat between her large bay windows, the sleepy town of Collierville dark outside them save for the few lights from the freeway and streetlights. Curious and bored, I checked to see what kind of reading selection she had.
From what I understood, she hadn’t brought any books from Nashville, but maybe she’d brought some from her parents’ house. I traced my finger over the book I remembered Faith last reading when she was with me.
I pulled on the dark glossy cover and held it, the pale pair of hands holding a red apple so achingly familiar. I thumbed through the pages and smiled at the memory of Faith tucked under a blanket in the back of my truck, her black-rimmed glasses balanced on her nose while she pored over the pages like her life depended on it.
I blinked dry eyes as memories of her curled into my chest, reading and talking about her favorite stories rattled through me. It was why I’d chosen books for us, because they were a great love in her life and I just wanted to be a part of it.
I moved my fingers over a few other titles and stopped. The Catcher in the Rye was there with a white library label on the spine, and next to it was To Kill a Mockingbird. My eyes took in the other books, all classics. Beyond the first shelf of Faith’s personal selection, they were all library books, all the books we’d written messages to each other in.
She kept them. After I had left her there to erase our history alone, she must have brokered a deal to keep them.
Something like hope mixed with fire burned inside my chest; it was uncomfortable and exhilarating. Maybe she did feel the same way about me.
I turned from the bookshelf and, without thinking more about it, headed toward her room. Her door was cracked open, revealing a bedroom bathed in moonlight. It illuminated her sleeping silhouette. The empty spot next to her called to me as I considered all the details of the evening. I considered my anger and how harsh I’d been, but the feelings that had just cracked open inside of me from finding those books caused all the other emotions to dissipate.
Shuffling forward, I took a few steps into her bedroom then a few more around her bed, until I was on the opposite side of where she was sleeping. Without thinking any more about it, I pulled the covers back and crawled inside, the heat already pulling me under.
Her bed was soft, and her cinnamon and sugar smell invaded my lungs. I inhaled deeply and, on instinct, pulled her into my arms. Because she was mine. Because at night I wanted to pretend time didn’t exist and our past had never been forced to end and our future was never contrived to begin without the other.
Four years earlier: October
“Big brother.” Jessie hugged me tight. I wrapped my arms around her and tried to gauge the reaction of my father, who was picking me up from jail. My six months were finished, and I was free.
“It’s good to see you.” I ruffled her hair and moved on to my dad, who wrapped me in a big bear hug. We left the facility in my dad’s old truck, all three of us squeezing in on the bench. I watched as buildings flashed by, the sun bright and high in the sky. I should have been enjoying the freedom, the wind blowing in my face, but I only had one thing on my mind.
Revenge.
Being double-crossed, losing one’s mother, and losing the love of one’s life all within the span of a year will certainly mess with one’s head. Mine was currently riddled with ideas on how to get back at the motherfucker who’d betrayed me.
“It’s been so lonely without you,” Jessie started.
I looked over and saw how she tugged on the sleeve of her sweater, pulling it down over her fingers. She’d started wearing baggy sweaters around the time I broke it off with Faith. The two of them were close, but with what I was dealing with, I needed them to have the same amount of space as I had with Faith.
“It wasn’t easy when Mom passed, and you weren’t here. We had to bury her without you…that was…” My dad’s throat clearing had her looking up and trailing off.
I knew it was hard to talk about, but I wanted her to feel like she could talk about it, so I squeezed her knee to continue.
“Anyway, it was hard. I’m glad you’re back. We both are.” She looked up at my dad again. They both seemed like they wanted to say something but weren’t saying it.
“Just spit it out,” I huffed, hating how irritable I already felt.
Jessie ducked her head again, not meeting my gaze as she continued. “Guess what I’m tryin’ to say is that if you get your revenge on hi
m…you’ll go back, and you can’t go back. I missed you, Dad missed you. We need you here.”
My dad chimed in, keeping his eyes on the road. “It ain’t worth it, son.”
How they both seemed to already know my motives bothered me. They only knew about what had happened because I’d told them during their visits over the past six months. I shook my head, looking out the window.
“Have either of you heard from her?” They knew who I was talking about, and I was grateful for it. I just needed to put to rest the questions that were fluttering around inside my chest with wings of hope.
Did Faith hear about what happened? Did she know about my mother?
It was quiet in the truck as we continued toward our humble trailer park. Jessie was the first to speak. “I haven’t heard from her…nor have I reached out.”
“Don’t think she knows what’s goin’ on, son…I don’t rightly know what she knows, but I do know she loved your mama, and if she’d known she had passed, there’s no way in hell she would have stayed away.”
“If she’d known you were locked up, she wouldn’t have stayed away,” Jessie rambled on. My heart clenched tight. I had made my sister swear not to reach out to Faith or say anything around town about what was going on. I didn’t want Faith coming after me out of pity, but still, I had assumed someone would have leaked that I’d gone to jail or that my mama had died.
If she did know, maybe she was done caring. She had a new husband, after all. I had been privileged enough to see the spectacle during a television special that had come on in the day room. Ironically enough, there should have been about zero chances in hell that I saw that special given that there were only certain people who made the decisions on what we did and didn’t watch in there. There was one television, the remote welded to the tray.