by S A Clayton
When she doesn’t answer my question, I break eye contact and go back to grading my papers. “I’ll ask you again, Amy. What the fuck are you doing here?” The bitter hatred in my voice saturates every word, and for a split second, I wonder if I was too harsh. But when I hear her fake laugh as she leans forward, her palms resting on my desk, cleavage on full display, I remember exactly who and what this woman is.
A manipulator.
“What? I can’t come and see my husband at work?” I almost laugh in her face. Instead, I stop what I’m doing and look up at her, wondering what I ever saw in her in the first place.
“First of all, I’m your ex-husband, or did you forget the yearlong divorce we went through. And, second of all, you are never welcome here. Ever. I believe I told you at our last hearing that I never wanted to see your smug face again…yet, here you are.” Her smile falters, the façade breaking for a moment before that fake-ass smile appears once again.
“I just wanted to see how you’re doing. Is that a crime?” she says quietly, rounding my desk and leaning against it right next to me. “I miss you…” she says, trailing her fingers through my hair. I shut my eyes and remember all the horrible and hurtful things she did, all the lies she told, the betrayal and the lost loyalty. I rear back from her touch.
“You miss me?” I yell, standing and walking as far away from her as I can. “How can you miss something you never wanted in the first place?” The anger seeps out of every pore, from every limb, and carries on every word that leaves my mouth. I hate this woman with every fiber of my being, and knowing that she’s here makes me want to burn the place to the ground just to get rid of the memory of her here.
“Of course, I missed you! We were married for four years…doesn’t that mean anything to you?” I stop where I am and turn. We’re across the room from each other, and I can see the hope in her eyes from way over here. I want to laugh. She has no idea how much I don’t want her anymore.
“No, it doesn’t mean anything to me because you spent three of those years lying to me. For God’s sake, Amy, you were taking birth control behind my back!” She rolls her eyes and grabs her purse, walking over to where I’m standing.
“Noah, honey, you know I wasn’t ready for that kind of step. I’ve told you, I didn’t tell you initially because I knew you would be upset.” I start laughing, wondering when this became my reality. I can’t believe she ever thought that lying just because the truth would be hard to hear was a good idea. Then it’s like a brick wall falls on top of me. This is probably exactly what Val felt like when I shut down about my past. Shit, she thinks I’m lying to her about something, and because I’m being evasive, she probably thinks the worst.
I need to get to her. Now.
I push past Amy and head toward my desk. Once there, I gather all my papers and shove them into my bag, knowing I’ll likely be spending the majority of my night at Val’s, apologizing. I might as well bring them with me in case I have a chance to get a few hours of work in.
“Where are you going?” Amy asks, walking toward the door and blocking it so I can’t leave.
“I have somewhere I need to be. So, if you’ll excuse me…” When she doesn’t move, I shove past her and open the door.
“You mean your little girlfriend? That owner of the bakery?” I stop dead in my tracks. How does Amy know about Val? “I know people, too, you know?” she whispers in my ear as she passes me. “You might want to choose a different restaurant next time you decide to flaunt your whores around town. I have eyes everywhere.” My blood starts to boil at her words, but I take a deep breath and face her.
“What did you do?” The look of satisfaction on her face makes my stomach sink, sending my whole body into a nervous spiral.
“Oh, you know, just went for a little chat,” she says, taking something out of her purse. When she holds out the butter tart, my heart sinks, and my whole body goes numb. This cannot be happening right now. “She’s very nice, and a great baker. I’ll give you that. But she’s not your type, Noah. You deserve the best on your arm, and she’s not it.”
“Fuck you, Amy,” I say, spinning her around and leaning into her so her back hits the lockers. My mind wanders to when Val and I were in this exact same position, but this time, my gut wrenches, and I squash the urge to ram my fist through the wall. “You have no idea what I deserve. You never did. I need you to get this through your thick skull. I will never, ever want you back. Even if you destroyed my relationship with Val, I still wouldn’t want you.”
“Ha. You’ll come crying to me when she wants nothing more to do with you.” She looks smug, and it takes everything in me not to slap her.
“Even if Val wants nothing to do with me, I will fight for her. I will fight until the end of time because I know she’s it for me.”
All of a sudden, Amy looks sad, her eyes are downcast, and her fingers play with the edge of her coat. “Why didn’t you ever fight for us like that?” she asks as if it never crossed her mind that it would be a possibility.
“Because I wasn’t in love with you.” She recoils, my words clearly hurting her, but they needed to be said. “What we had was lust, pure and simple.” She gives a slight nod, and her eyes come back to mine. Deep down, I know Amy is a good person. Deep, deep down. But right now, the only person I want to be around, thinks I’m married and that I lied to her for the last month.
“I need to leave. Now,” I say, not paying any attention to Amy or the fact that my classroom is still wide-open. I race to my car, open the door, and make my way to Val’s. I call and call and call, but she never answers. So, I do the only thing I know I can do. I drive.
I need to fix this.
TWENTY
“Another one,” I mutter, banging the glass on the bar top and hoping the bartender
gives me at least one more. I have no idea what time I got here, or what time it is now. All I know is that the world is a little hazy, and I need this. I need to forget the last few hours—hell, the last month.
“You sure you want another one?” the bartender says. I nod, not looking at him because I know the minute I meet his eyes, he’ll see how broken I am and make me leave. I can’t leave. Noah is outside that door. Reality is out there. And reality is something I can’t face right now. Right now, I can only face the next drink, other than that, I want it all to disappear.
“Shit.” I hear muttered behind me, and I dip my head forward, my fingers gripping the glass in front of me like a lifeline. “This can only mean one thing, what did he do?” Mandy asks as she sits on the empty stool beside me and wraps one of her arms around my shoulders. I fight the urge to rip away from her and tell her to leave, but I know it won’t do any good. So, I do the next best thing. I take a sip of my drink and ignore her question. My phone vibrates on the bar top, and it doesn’t take a genius to know who it is. When I read his name, and see the picture that I took of him a few weeks ago while he was kissing my cheek, the tears start to form, and I palm the offensive device and throw it in my purse. I would actually like to throw it against a wall but…one, I don’t have the money to get a new phone, and two, I don’t think the bar would appreciate that.
“He’s married,” I mutter as I take another sip and fight the onslaught of tears that are beginning to fall down my cheeks. Just hearing those words come out of my mouth makes me want to hurl. How could I have been so stupid! I knew he was hiding something. I hoped it was a crazy ex or maybe a long-lost child. But married? That takes the cake.
“He’s what?!” Mandy yells. The gazes of the other people in the bar bombard me, so I turn to her. The moment our eyes meet, her gaze softens. “Oh, sweetheart…” The term of endearment allows another pit to form in the depths of my soul, and the flood gates open. I crumble right there at the bar, holding a glass of whiskey that tastes like ass but not caring in the least because, up until now, it was helping me forget.
“Shh,” Mandy whispers as she envelops me in her arms and lets me cry it out. I must look
like an insane person because I’m full-on sobbing now. Giant tears stain my face as I explain what happened. The weird conversation with Noah the night before, the woman coming into the shop, and then the bombshell of him being married. Throughout the whole story, Mandy remains silent. She sits there and wipes away my tears, though I know that, all the while, she’s been beating the crap out of Noah in her mind.
“Okay,” Mandy starts. I know just by the way her hands are up, and her eyes are wide that whatever she’s about to say is probably going to piss me off. “I don’t want you to get mad at me. I’m just playing devil’s advocate here, okay?” I nod. “What if he’s not married?” I look at her blankly. She can’t be serious.
“Considering the evidence stacked against him, I would say that’s a long shot.” I take another sip of my drink and grimace. Who the fuck invented whiskey, and why does it have to burn like someone poured battery acid down my throat?
“Hear me out. What if he was married?” What the hell is she getting at? This whole conversation is giving me even more of a headache.
“And what? His ex is so desperate for him that she sabotages his new relationship?” Mandy gives me the obviously look, and I shake my head. “That’s so stupid. That only happens in sappy romance novels and movies.”
“Well, maybe you’re in one and don’t know it.” I give her a look and throw a crumpled-up napkin at her face. She starts laughing, which in turn gets me to smile. But then she turns serious. “Have you talked to him?” I shake my head, and her head tilts the way it always does when she’s going to tell me to smarten up. “Val, honey. I know you’re upset right now, and you have every right to be. I also know you want nothing to do with him, but he deserves to speak his piece, don’t you think?”
Does he, though? I mean, I’ve been trying to get this man to talk to me about his past for the past month and he’s shut me down every time. He’s had every opportunity to tell me about his life and the complicated parts of it, and he didn’t.
“He shut me out. Let’s see how he likes it.” I say it with as much conviction as possible, but I know deep down that I’ll talk to him. If what happened with Chris taught me anything, it’s that I would rather talk out issues in the here and now and be done, than wonder what happened for months on end. I deserve that closure, if nothing else.
“Wanna stay at my place tonight?” Mandy asks as I finish the last of my drink with a grimace. “I know you have to work tomorrow…” I hold up my hand to stop her.
“I’m closed for the weekend.” She gives me a look, and I shrug. “I wanted a break, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to do anything tomorrow, seeing as I’ve been drinking since around two in the afternoon and it’s what? Eleven?”
“Try midnight, honey.” Fuck. Me. I need to get home. “So, my place?” Mandy repeats, but I shake my head. “I don’t want you to be alone right now,” she says, and the trepidation in her eyes tells me that she cares. She’s worried, and I get that.
“I need some time to think, and to drink myself into a coma.” I wink at her, but she doesn’t laugh. “All right, the drinking part is just a joke, but I do need time to think, and I can’t do that with you around.” I can see the hurt in her eyes, but she nods, giving me what I need. This is why she’s my best friend. She’ll question my decisions when she deems it necessary, but when it comes time, she will always trust my judgment, even when I’m a little impaired.
“Want me to drive you home?” I shake my head again. “Fine, let me at least call you a cab,” I concede and wonder what the hell tomorrow will bring.
TWENTY-ONE
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting on Val’s porch, but it’s dark, it’s cold, and I’m starting to feel my teeth chattering inside my mouth. I knew coming here was a long shot. To be honest, I thought she’d be home and just kick me to the curb the minute I pulled up. What I didn’t expect was to come here and find a dark and empty house. The longer I sit here and wait, the more worried I become. What if something happened to her? What if she’s hurt somewhere and no one knows where to find her? I can sense the panic starting to rise, so I take a few deep breaths and remind myself that this isn’t some horror movie where she’s lying dead in a ditch somewhere, and I’ll never have a chance to talk to her again. This is real life. I fucked up, big time. But that doesn’t mean I won’t get a chance to see her again.
Just as I’m about to take out my phone and call her for the tenth time today, headlights glare in my direction and point toward the house. The car stops at the curb, and I wait. She gets out of the cab and stumbles her way up the driveway, giggling as she holds on to the side of her car for balance. Is she drunk? She looks like it from where I’m standing.
“What are you doing here?” she slurs as she approaches the porch, slowly making her way to the stairs.
“Are you drunk?” I accuse and flinch at my tone, knowing this is not the time to judge her.
“Why would you care? Why don’t you go home to your fucking wife? I bet she’s not drunk. I bet she’s waiting for you with her perfect hair, perfect clothes, and perfect life.” She stumbles, holding on to the railing. The closer she gets, the more I can smell the whiskey on her breath, and I curse myself for being such an idiot. I should have talked to her sooner. I should have explained everything before it blew up in my face.
“Since when do you drink whiskey?” I mutter as she passes, but of course, she hears me and gets pissed. I don’t blame her. I should just walk away now before I say something else that’ll make her hate me more than she already does.
“Since you decided to lie to me for the last month And since when do you care what I do?” She stumbles again. This time, I catch her as she tumbles backward toward the stairs. “Let go of me!” she screams, and I make sure she’s steady before I let go. My eyes search the neighborhood, looking to see that no one is coming out to make sure I’m not a sex criminal. When no lights turn on, I simultaneously thank the Lord that I won’t have to deal with them and curse this town for not being more vigilant with their neighbors.
“I just want to talk. Sweetheart, please…” I’m begging…Noah Taylor is pleading. If I have to get on my knees, I’ll do it. If she wants me to be her slave for weeks, months, even years, I’ll do that, too. I just need her to stop looking at me like I’ve killed the only good part of her. I need to look into her eyes and not see the betrayal staring back at me.
I watch her as she stumbles by me, holding the railing of her porch for support. When she gets to the door and fumbles with her keys, I know this is my chance. “Val, let me help you.” My voice is soft as I approach her from behind. My chest meets her back as my arms encircle her, and I take the keys from her fingers. For a split second, she relaxes against me. Her entire body sags as if the weight she’s been bearing these last few hours finally melts away. I quickly take the keys, open the lock, and wait. I stand there, her hair tickling my nose, the scent of her enveloping my senses, making me desperate for her touch. Yet I back away, knowing now isn’t the time. She probably won’t remember this tomorrow, and as hard as it is to stay away from her right now, I won’t be that guy. I can’t be.
Just as I’m about to leave, she turns, glaring. The look rips through me, and my palm unconsciously moves to my chest, rubbing the ache that’s appeared. “I never want to see you again.” The words aren’t screamed in my face, they aren’t loud enough for the neighbors to hear. They’re hardly loud enough for me to hear. But I do. And they cut me into tiny pieces. Seeing the utter devastation in her gaze makes me wonder if I’ll ever get her back. Maybe Amy was right. Perhaps I’ve lost Val.
“Sweetheart, I’m going to stay out here until you let me explain. I need you to hear me out.” She rolls her eyes, and I attempt to hide the smile that tries to break free. That small gesture shows me that my Val is still in there. She’s not totally broken, and that gives me hope.
“Fine. Freeze to death for all I care.” She slams the door, and I watch through the front window as
she heads for the kitchen, taking out the bottle of vodka from the freezer and taking a swig right then and there. I shudder at the thought of what I’ve done to her, that I’ve caused her to drink like this.
I look away, leaning back against the house and sit on the concrete porch beneath the front window. If she won’t let me in, that’s okay. I’ll stay out here until the end of time. Even if I lose a few limbs from the cold, it doesn’t matter. I just need to make sure she’s all right.
I don’t know how much time passes, but my eyes start to close, and I wonder if the seat cushions on her patio chairs would make a good bed. I don’t have a chance to test out the theory before I hear a loud crash from inside the house. Before I have a chance to talk myself out of it, I’m banging on the door, hoping to God she answers and lets me in.
TWENTY-TWO
My body feels like it’s dying a slow, painful death. My head pounds as my eyes struggle to open. When they do, I curse the sun for being so cheery in the morning. My gaze searches my room, and I wonder how I ended up here. The last thing I remember is yelling at Noah, then slamming the door in his face and taking the vodka out of the freezer.
My body shudders at the thought of the alcohol, and before I can push it down, it all comes roaring up my throat. I run to the bathroom and empty the contents of my stomach. Fuck, I need to remind myself to stop when I drink this much—or at least not mix liquors. That’s always my downfall. You stick with one drink, and you’ll have one hell of a hangover, but you won’t be stuck over a toilet.
Rookie mistake.
Once I brush my teeth, wash my face, and put my matted hair up into a messy bun, I head back into my room where I see a glass of water and some aspirin on my nightstand. Did Mandy come over while I was passed out? I sit on the edge of my bed and take the aspirin, feeling the cold liquid pass down my throat. It’s not until I set the glass down on the wood that I look at my hands and gasp. There are small cuts all over them. I bring them closer to inspect the damage, wracking my brain to try and figure out how the hell it happened.