“Okay,” we move past Dominic, and our fingers brush. He doesn’t look back. He just stands in the middle of the garage, his eyes cast down, and I watch him just seconds before he erupts, the jarring sound of metal hitting the bay doors as Sean rips me from the building and pulls me into the car.
All the color drains from my face as Sean ushers me inside.
“I don’t care, do you hear me, I don’t care what it is, give me something.”
He tears out of the parking lot and I wait, knowing he can feel the anxiety pouring from me.
“Sean, plea—”
“Somebody couldn’t keep a secret.”
IT’S BEEN DAYS OF SILENCE, days of unanswered texts. I’ve gone from worried, to confused, to angry, and all I want at this point is just a little fucking acknowledgment. Pulling up to the garage, I take a steadying breath. My leaping heart has taken an unexpected nosedive from the place it was seventy-two hours ago, and all of that is due to their deafening collective silence.
I’ve been patient, given them enough space to handle whatever took them from me without ample explanation.
I don’t have to have answers, but I do have to lay eyes on them. I know what they do behind the scenes is dangerous, but their silence at this point is just cruel. I haven’t slept at all, and just finished another shift Sean didn’t show up for, but thanks to the gossip mill at the plant, I did hear that he called in. I’ve been tempted more than once to call Layla, but that’s not how this works.
Calling for a simple proof of life check for the sake of my sanity would have been the next step if I didn’t see several cars outside of the garage, including the two owned by the men I came to seek answers from.
Hood business. All of the last few days had to have been filled with it because the parking lot is more crowded than ever. Virginia is here, so is Alabama. But it’s not a meetup. That was last week, which means there won’t be another one for at least two. Unless something is really wrong.
Exiting my car in sheer panic, I feel the boom of bass and can’t help my relieved grin when I hear the mood on the other side of the door—voices mixed with laughter.
They’re okay. You’re okay.
I have to believe that hood business is what’s kept them away because the alternative is too painful. I haven’t let myself dwell on that. Nothing about our last interaction indicated that was even a possibility. But if they’re ghosting me, I’m not going to give them the satisfaction of doing it without an explanation—especially after how close Sean and I have become this summer both as friends and lovers. And Dominic, well, I can’t even pinpoint which feelings exist due to lust or intrigue or the culmination of both but that last night we spent together, it was love I felt, that I wanted to admit.
Because I truly love them both.
And if they’re okay, I’m okay.
Gnawing fear eats at me as I approach the door with shaky resolve. It’s when I reach it, that I hear the out of place melody blaring through the garage and I know they were expecting me.
“Afternoon Delight” carries through the air, out of the doors as my chest churns and dread fills the pit of my stomach.
It’s a joke. It has to be. And it’s not funny. I’ll find a way to punish Sean for this.
Standing at the door of the lobby and looking into the bay, I see it’s business as usual with the addition of several guests. My guys crowd around the pool table, cutting up, beers in hand as they pass a joint around. Sean watches Dominic take a shot at the table, refusing to look up. He knows I’m here. I’d changed after work and am dressed to impress in his favorite red sundress. My lips painted to match. I stand, a beacon waiting for some sort of acknowledgment as they chatter on and a few heads I don’t recognize turn my way. When the next song begins to play just as I step through the threshold, my fight for attention quickly shifts to my threatening nausea.
It’s then I know why Sean is keeping his eyes down. He doesn’t want to watch the dagger he’s slowly pushing into my chest.
“Cecilia” by Simon and Garfunkel begins to play as the door slams behind me, securing my place in the trap.
Every word of the song like a slap to the face.
This isn’t happening.
This isn’t happening.
But it is. The song, the lyrics, the out of place melody pierces me as my heart rages in my chest, continually slamming into the crumbling barrier, begging to be set free, for a destination anywhere but here. Tears burn my eyes as I watch the two men I came for blatantly ignore me, as more heads begin to turn my way.
Dominic is hunched over the table, taking his shot as Sean stands in the corner, his hands wrapped around his pool stick as Tyler whispers in his ear, his eyes on mine, a smile on his dimpled face. He doesn’t know.
But Sean does, and so does Dominic.
The rest of the party huddles around the kegs, oblivious to the fucking knife slicing through me. Dominic takes the shot, before finally, he looks directly at me, a smug smirk playing on his lips.
Lumps of betrayal clog my throat, choking me as that smirk brands me with the scarlet letter, turning all our dirty deeds against me.
Drowning in deceit, I sink further and further where I stand, fighting the bile climbing up my throat while drifting into the wave of despair.
Neck on fire, my heart screams for mercy, beat after painful beat against my chest as Sean finally lifts his eyes to look at me.
That’s when I break, utterly humiliated and completely taken aback by the second faces of the men I’ve fallen so in love with. Each lyric turns every beautiful moment we shared into one of my degradation.
I’ve been played.
I let them in.
I let them use me.
I convinced myself it was real.
That they cared.
I thought it was love.
But I was a game to them.
They set me up, lifted me as high as I could fly only to watch me fall.
I don’t realize I’m sobbing until I can no longer see them, but blurred versions of the men I gave my heart—my trust to—as black streaks my cheeks. And maybe it’s best that I don’t, so I can erase the old images with these new ones, replace the everything I felt with the nothing they’ve left me with.
They’d made me feel safe, accepted.
I loved them wholly.
I gave myself to them, and they let me…
One by one, heads slowly turn my way. And little by little, I realize I’ve gathered the attention of the entire garage. Face hot, sobs bursting from me. I slam my eyes shut, willing the moment away, hellfire in my heart, the damning, the branding, the judgment.
I can’t bring myself to open my eyes, to look up, to move. I can’t breathe through this betrayal, through the ache in my heart, through the pain searing through me.
I’m that girl. The girl I swore I would never be. The fool I promised myself I’d never be again.
But here I am, a goddamn fool.
No better than a hired whore.
Worse, I’d given my heart for nothing. To become nothing.
I played with fire, and now I’m singed beyond recognition.
Opening my eyes, I know only seconds have passed while I scan the faces of those laying witness to my end. In them I see nothing but confusion and pity, especially from Tyler whose eyes volley between us.
Sean takes a step toward me, and Dominic slams a hand to his chest, his lips pulling up, his eyes dancing with amusement.
I was their toy, and now I’m no longer worthy of their time and attention.
Disgust fills me as I fixate on Dominic, remembering the words he said to me days ago, the way he touched me beneath the stars. Worse than that, Sean had been just as convincing, maybe even more so. Images flit through my mind of our beginning, our kisses, our shared laughter, waking up in his arms, our conversations.
In their eyes, I’m nothing. Nothing.
In their eyes, I’m just another one.
Destroyed, I’m h
alfway to the door when I hear a scuffle break out on the other side of the glass. I turn back long enough to see Sean’s fist connect with Dominic’s jaw before I fly out of the garage, humiliation pulsing at my temples, blood trickling freely, padding each of my steps.
I don’t bother to pack, and drive through the night.
TWO WEEKS.
That’s what I asked my father for, and he’d granted them to me without an issue. I went straight to Christy, who’d just leased her first apartment in Atlanta. I spent the first week on her couch, crying in her lap as she tried to soothe me with comforting words.
I don’t think Sean wanted to hurt me, not like that, and the fight that broke out seemed to indicate as much. But if he’s that much of a coward, and went along with Dominic’s plan, even entertained it, I can’t allow him to mean anything more to me.
I blame myself. I’d actively taken part in all of it. I’d allowed myself to be passed around like a party favor, all the while begging for more.
And they’d taken and taken, and I’d loved every second of it.
I’ve since spent my time taking long walks around Christy’s complex, trying to pinpoint where I went wrong, and all of it came back down to the beginning, accepting the invitation from Sean the day I met him.
I’d been played up until the last second. Up until they’d shown me just how much.
I don’t know how I expected it all to end, but certainly not like that. If I’m honest with myself, I didn’t see myself picking one over the other, even if presented with the choice. But they’d even taken that away from me.
They tossed me aside like trash. And I’d asked for it. By pining for them both, by letting them between my legs, into my psyche, and my heart.
Christy still has no idea what to say to me. I’ve shared a large part of the relationship details with her, leaving the hood business aside. She’d eaten the details up like it was the most fascinating story, but if I look too close, I can see a little of her condemnation. And I can’t blame her for it. I understand it. I’ve done enough of that to myself to last a lifetime.
I just wish I could regret it.
But the truth is, I can’t. And the sickest part? I still want them. I still love them.
I’m disgusted with myself. How have I become this depraved?
Daily, I still crave their attention, their affection, their strong arms, their kisses, their quirks. I’ve memorized them. But it’s the fresh memory of those seconds I spent in that garage that keeps me outraged.
Between the cloudy haze of my despair, there’s a silver lining. Something is building inside of me that overrules any of these foolish emotions, and it’s the need for retribution, revenge. And if given a chance, I’m determined to take it.
Whether they admit it or not, those men did care for me. For whatever reason they decided to cut ties, cut me, their affection was far too convincing to be completely contrived.
Even if it played out in the cruelest of ways, that affection wasn’t a figment of my fucking imagination. They’d confided in me, treated me with the utmost care. It couldn’t all be a lie. If so, I’ll truly be lost.
Something happened.
Something had to have happened to make them carry out a plan so brutal. Even if Dominic is capable of that type of malice, of masking his feelings so well, which I know he is, Sean is not.
But he deserves just as much of my wrath because he let it happen.
It might not have been love for either of them, but it was something more than sex. Even so, their actions are unforgivable.
For the first time in my life, I take comfort in the fact that I am my father’s daughter. Some part of me is capable of being just as callous, just as reptilian as he is. If I have to channel the blood I continually deny, continually curse, that now runs cold in my veins to become something other than a dangling and bleeding heart, so be it.
“What’s that look?” Christy asks me as I stare unseeing at a little girl playing on the steps of the apartment pool. We’ve been out here for the last few days soaking up the last of the summer sun. The little girl squeals in delight as her mother kneels next to her, reapplying sunscreen on her arms.
I remember playing a game with myself when I was her age, a dangerous game. I often played alone, while my mother was busy entertaining friends or whatever boyfriend joined us that day. I’d dared myself to swim out farther and farther away from safety and eventually found myself in the deep end, over my head and alone, bailing myself out while no one noticed I was drowning. And I’d done it. A second before I knew I was going underwater for the last time; I’d kicked my feet so hard I ended up hitting my head on the lip of the pool. Just before everything went black, I found purchase with my palms on the concrete and pulled myself up to safety before sobbing, hysterical with relief. That’s when my mother finally noticed. I got hugged, and then spanked, hard.
Even when I was a kid, I always had a sick fascination with the deep end, with putting myself at risk. The sickness that resides inside me isn’t new. But I’d let it out, and in Sean’s words, I’d made peace with the devil inside. I let that devil rule me for one summer, and it was just as reckless with my well-being.
This is that time, where I can sink or sob in relief. It’s time to kick and pull myself out of it. But it’s my heart, my memories, my lingering sickness that weighs me down, threatening any sign of progress, leaving me helpless in the deep end.
Time to kick, Cecelia.
“Cee?” Christy prompts as I keep my eyes on the little girl, splashing around before leaping off the step and into the safety of her mother’s arms.
“I’m thinking it’s not okay. I’m thinking…” I need to find that concrete. At the same time, I’m thinking I need to kill the curious part of that little girl, so this never happens again. I don’t credit myself much for the life I’ve lived, but maybe I should. I survived raising an adolescent and slightly neglectful mother. I put myself through school, kept my head above water without supervision. I’ve made it this far on my own without the true guidance of the people I was supposed to count on, and I did a damned good job of it, up until a few months ago. I made it through nineteen years of kicking, and I’ll make it nineteen more. With new resolve I turn towards my best friend. “I’m thinking I forgot who the fuck I am.”
“Atta girl,” she says. “Had me worried there for a minute. What are you going to do?”
“For myself, move on. To them? I don’t know. Maybe nothing. But revenge is a dish best served cold. I’ll know it when I see it. For now, it’s about getting my head straight. I don’t completely trust Karma, so if I’m ever in the position, I’ll make sure she delivers.”
“Damn, to be a fly on the wall,” she says, “you’ve got this, baby.”
All I can do is nod.
Christy twists from the cheap plastic lounger, planting her long legs on the deck between us before reaching for my hand, her light brown eyes full of empathy. She’s a beautiful girl, my best friend. Medium-length, wavy brown hair, an athletic build, soft, full features. Seeing her after taking that sledgehammer to the chest made breathing possible when she met me at my car in the late hours of morning, arms wide open. “I don’t blame you, Cecelia. I might not fully understand it. And I’m telling you now, I can’t say I wouldn’t do it myself, but God, girl, two men? I can’t even pretend to imagine what it would be like.”
“It’s not that uncommon anymore.”
“I know,” she says, “but,” she shakes her head. “You really went all in, huh?”
“I believed them, you know? I thought they were enlightened. Thought they were some rare breed. What a fucking idiot.”
“But you are now. You are enlightened. They might have been preaching some bullshit, but you believed it, and you still do. You liberated yourself. You can be proud of that.”
It’s the truth, the absolute truth. Hypocrites they may be, but with them, I’d unleashed the truth about myself, about my nature. I’ve changed, and my mind�
�s changed too, despite their slut-shaming hypocrisy and damning cruelty.
“You better call me every day.”
“I will.” I turn to her, my only true friend. My only real family. “Let’s go visit my mom.”
CHRISTY SNIFFLES AS HUBBLE WALKS away from Katy before they glance back at each other. “W-w-wait, they don’t end up together?”
The credits roll as Christy shifts murderous eyes from the screen to me. “They don’t end up together?!”
“Nope.”
Christy’s jaw drops as Mom and I laugh at her where she sits on the couch, tossing Milk Duds at us both. “What kind of shit is that?”
“Not all love stories have happy endings,” my mother says softly. I glance over to where she rests in her recliner, the only piece of furniture she moved to her boyfriend’s place. He’s absent today, his excuse ‘fishing’ to give us a day together. She’s gained a little weight, and there’s a little color in her cheeks, which was absent before I left. I can only be happy for her. She’d been a shell when I moved to Triple Falls. But her last statement piques my curiosity.
“Who did you love like that, Mom?”
“One too many.”
I nod in perfect understanding.
“I. Cannot. Believe they don’t end up together!” Christy exclaims, exasperated as we both turn to her.
“It’s called The Way We Were for a reason. First of all, he cheated,” Mom points out. “More importantly, he couldn’t handle her personality or her beliefs, or her strength; therefore, he did not deserve her. And given the choice, he didn’t have a damn thing to do with their daughter because of it. You still think they should be together?”
“But—” Christy objects.
“That’s the truth,” I add, “people don’t want the brutal truth in love stories anymore, but that, there,” I gesture at the screen, “is the brutal, ugly truth.”
“Right on,” my mom says with clear pride in her eyes. “And that’s a story that will stick with you, too.”
Christy sighs. “Well, shit. That was awful.”
“No, it wasn’t,” My mother laughs, lighting a cigarette. “You ate it up.” She gives me a conspiratorial grin. “Should we totally ruin her?”
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