by JA Huss
Alexander wanders down the hallway, peeking into the various scene rooms, leaving Augustine and I to our argument. I watch him stop at a set of stairs that lead up to a party space. A place for people to congregate on white couches and peer down into the scene room below through the glass floor.
“Dirty sex. And that’s it?”
“That’s it,” I say, still watching Alexander, who moves on, away from the stairs, not curious enough to go up there. Or maybe he knows. Hell, they’ve owned this place for a long time now. There’s no way they never came down here to check it out.
“So it had nothing to do with you hating who you are?”
A laugh bursts out unexpectedly. “Hating… fuck off, August. I don’t hate myself.”
“No?” she asks. “Are you sure about that?”
“Look, I’m not having this discussion with you. I’m not—”
“You’re just going to run away? Again? Like you always do?”
“When did I ever run away?”
She shrugs, then leans back against the wall. I glance down the hallway, but Alexander is gone. Slipped into a room or another hallway while I wasn’t looking. “You left Colorado for California when you were eighteen.”
“I went to Stanford. That’s not running away.”
“And you didn’t come back for law school,” she continues, like she didn’t hear me.
“Because UCLA is a great fucking school.”
“And Ixion was there.”
“So?”
“So you loved him, and you followed him, and then…” She gives me a small, weak smile. “And then you met me. And it was all set for you, wasn’t it, Jordan?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Him. And me. And Alexander. And you. You,” she says, “are a deviant. And you never wanted to admit it. So you just followed him. The boy you fell in love with as a young man.”
“I don’t fucking love him that way.”
“Not anymore,” Augustine says. “But that’s only because you’re not his type. That woman he loves now? Evangeline? She’s his type. He’s never going to share her with you.”
I want to yell at her. Tell her to shut up. Fucking wrap my hands around her neck and choke her into silence.
“And you always knew that. He was never into you that way. Oh, he loved you, but not the way you loved him. That’s why Ixion saved your ass, then walked away and never looked back.”
“In case you didn’t notice, that’s what I did as well.”
“No,” she says. “You got stuck in the past. You want something you never had, Jordan. Him. That’s the only explanation for why you’re being so difficult about this offer we’re making you.”
“You want me to moderate your husband’s dark side, Augustine. That’s it.”
“That’s it?” she says. “And you know this how? Because you asked us what we wanted and we told you? Or because you’re making it up as you pine for this fantasy club? This place didn’t make you happy. The people you shared it with made you happy.”
“Yeah,” I say. “That’s true. And you two weren’t there.”
“No. We came first.”
She and I stare at each other for a few seconds.
“Hey,” Alexander says, peeking his head out of one of the scene rooms. “Come down here.”
“Fuck that, I’m leaving.”
“Fuck you, Jordan,” Augustine spits. “Fuck you if you walk out again!”
I step back, stunned by her sudden venom and anger.
“We’re tired of this shit. We came here in good faith to try to get you back—”
“You came here so I could help you—”
“Just fucking listen to me!” She screams it. “Just shut your fucking mouth and listen to me for once! Can’t you see what’s happening? How can you be so clueless?”
I huff out a laugh. “Enlighten me, then, Augustine. Tell me what I’m missing.”
She glares at me. Points her finger in my face. “You’re missing everything. You see nothing but lies. You see nothing but your made-up past, and you project that onto us like we’re the ones responsible.”
I swat her hand away, sick and tired of all the drama and bullshit that comes off these two like a sick, thick fog. “I’m not responsible for your happiness, Augustine. I’m not your cure, or your Band-Aid, or your fucking scapegoat. What you two have—the good, the bad, all of it—has nothing to do with me. This is a fucking business decision. This is a fucking contract. This is a fucking…” I stumble for words, unable to find another analogy.
“A fucking game,” she spits. “You’ve been playing games your whole life. That’s all you know how to do. That’s all you are. One long game. That’s all you’ve ever been and ever will be, because you’re too goddamned afraid to see the truth standing right in front of you.”
“The truth in front of me?” I laugh. “The truth in front of me is one sad, lost woman who chose the wrong man years ago and now she regrets it and wants a second chance.”
Oh, yeah. Even I feel that burn.
Augustine stands still. Silent. Her eyes welling up like she might start crying.
I turn away, done with this shit. Ready to get the fuck away from her. From both of them.
“If you walk out on us one more time, Jordan,” Alexander says, “don’t ever fucking come back. Because you know what? I’m tired of you treating my wife like she’s some piece of shit under your shoe.” He steps fully into the hallway now. Jaw set and clenched. Eyes locked on mine. Mouth even and without any hint of affection. “She never did anything to you. She wasn’t the one who lied and manipulated people. She wasn’t the one who ruined everything. She’s here to save us, yeah. OK. Fine. But she’s here to save you too.”
“Save me?” I laugh so loud I almost startle myself. The guffaw is unexpectedly real. “What a fucking joke. I don’t need saving. Like… what fucking world do you two live in? What fucking reality? I didn’t ask you to come here. I didn’t ask you to give me another chance. I didn’t do any of this. I walked away and left you two alone. Just like you wanted. And now that I’m happy, and things are going great—”
“Going great?” Alexander belts out an incredulous laugh.
“—you two want to steal my satisfaction. Like fucking leeches. Like blood-sucking vampires.”
“Is that what you think?” he asks. His words a soft, angry whisper as he slowly walks towards me. Stops directly in front of me. “How did you get this far?”
“What?”
“In life, Jordan. I mean… it’s sad, man. Fucking sad.”
“Stop it, Alexander. Leave him alone.”
I glance over at Augustine. Narrowing my eyes at her. Something… something is happening here and I’m not sure what.
“No,” Alexander says. “No,” he says again. “I’m done playing his game. Jordan needs to know.”
“Know what?” I ask. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Then Augustine is in between us. Her hands on my arms. Her body pressing into me. Face tilted up as I glance down at her, eyes wide and begging. “Can you just… just trust me for once?”
I redirect my stare back to Alexander. “What do I need to know?”
“That we love you,” Augustine says quickly. Almost urgently.
Which is so funny—but sad at the same time. So I don’t bother laughing.
“We love you, Jordan. That’s why we’re here. We were young back in LA. We were messing around with sex, and feelings, and there were a lot of emotions involved. It wasn’t you who did that, ya know? It wasn’t you.”
“No?” I ask. “Who was it then?”
“It was the sick fuck living inside you,” Alexander growls.
“Stop it!” Augustine says, whirling around to face him. Her back presses against my chest now. Like she’s a shield trying to protect me. “Just stop it, Alexander. You’re making things worse.”
“Am I?” he asks. And it doesn’t come off as sarcas
tic or anything. Just like a real question.
“Don’t walk away,” Augustine says. “Please. Just show us what you need. What you want. What makes you…” She shrugs. “Happy. And all you’ve been talking about—the only reason you’re doing this with us—is this place. This stupid building is what makes you happy. So help us give you that.”
“You could give me that by selling me the fucking building,” I say. It’s mean. I know it’s mean. She’s being real, and emotional, and putting herself out there and I’m being sarcastic, and shallow, and self-absorbed. But it’s true, isn’t it? If all she wants is to make me happy, then sell me the fucking building and stop this game. “This isn’t my game,” I say, trying to explain. “You guys started this. How did you even know that I wanted this building? Like… how did you even come to own it?”
They share a nervous glance. But it’s quick. Too quick for me to decipher it properly.
“It’s the darkness,” Alexander says.
Which redirects my attention. “What?”
“Inside you. That’s the draw of this place. It’s not the building. It’s the darkness you keep collared and leashed. This place is just a symbol, Jordan. Where you felt safe. Where you could let it out of the cage.”
Is it, I wonder? Is that why I have all these thoughts and feelings about Turning Point Club?
“At least you can admit it,” Augustine says. And then she shrugs. “That’s a really good first step.”
I start thinking about that one game I organized with Finn and his girl, Issy. How I tricked her into thinking she wasn’t playing a game, but of course, she was. It just wasn’t her game. She had a pretty specific sex club fantasy of being watched by strangers. But then I turned the whole thing upside down and yeah. I had other things in mind for that game and she was just the vehicle I used to get where I needed to go.
But I played it off using the sex club thing as an excuse. A way to back out.
But was it? Just an excuse?
“Right?” Augustine says, pulling me back out of my thoughts.
“Admit it,” I say, repeating her question. “What did I admit? I didn’t admit to anything. That was Alexander’s overactive imagination.”
She lets out a huff of air, like I’m exasperating her. “Do you or don’t you have a fucking dark side?”
“Why are you getting pissy with me?”
“Just… do you?”
I shrug. “Maybe. I guess. I mean, fucking more than one person at a time isn’t really dark. But whatever. I like it.”
“You like it with strangers, Jordan.” This is Alexander. “That’s the key with you, ya know.”
I stare at him for a second. “I like it with you guys too.”
“Of course you do,” Augustine says. “Because we’re where it all began, right?”
I have to hold in a laugh. “No. I was always into it. It’s just… you guys… you two and Ixion were the first I did it with more than once.”
“So why is that?” she asks.
“Because I fell in love with you, Augustine. You know that.”
“But not me?” Alexander says.
“No. Not you. You were just there.”
“Like Ixion,” he adds.
“No, not like him, either. He was… he was always there.”
“Do you think he’d bring Evangeline here?” Alexander asks. “If you opened the place back up? I mean, is that what you’re after? Them, with you. So you could have him?”
“He’s not like that. At all,” I say, stressing the word. “We’re just not like that.”
“But you’d want it that way. So maybe deep down your new obsession with this building, with reopening the Club, it’s all related back to what he never offered up?”
I pause. Considering this.
Is it?
“The Club has been closed for over a year, yet you just started getting interested in it recently. Why is that, Jordan?”
I stare at Alexander. Wondering if that’s true. Was I over it? And then did I get drawn back in by the reappearance of Ix?
“I have no grand delusion that Ix, Evangeline, and I will become partners, you guys. None. That’s not what this is about.”
“Then what’s it about?” Alexander asks.
Augustine shoots him a look. Like she wants him to shut up but he won’t.
“I just want a place to go.” It’s lame. Even I know it’s lame. But it’s true. That’s really all I want. “A place that’s familiar. Where I know people. Where I’m not judged or made to feel… dark.” I shoot a look at Alexander. “Where I can be me and not feel weird, I guess.”
“Like… a home,” Augustine says.
“Sure. I guess.”
“Where you can have multiple partners and never commit,” Alexander offers.
“Goddammit, Alexander,” Augustine snaps.
“What?” he says. All exasperated with her annoyance. “I’m just following his fucking lead.”
“It’s not about multiple partners,” I say, thinking it through as I ignore their disagreement on how to ‘handle’ me. “It’s just… expectations are set from the beginning. There’s no room for mistakes. Everyone knows how to play the game. Everyone understands the rules.”
“So it’s safe,” Alexander says.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “So what?”
“Well, it’s funny.” He laughs. “That perfectly describes what you didn’t have with us in LA. There were no rules. There were no expectations.”
“But there were plenty of consequences,” I add.
“Not for you,” he quips back. “Ixion took your fall back there.”
“And I’m fucking sorry about that, OK? I told him that. I’ve apologized to you two. I’m fucking sorry. And if you’re still pissed off about it, then why are you here?”
“Just fucking tell him, August. For fuck’s sake. Can’t you see he’s never going to figure it out on his own?”
“Tell me what? Figure what out?”
Alexander opens his mouth to speak. And I swear to God, I have a moment of panic that he’s gonna say something… I dunno. Bad.
But then Augustine beats him to it and says, “That we love you. That we’re here because we love you, and care about you, and want you in our lives again. And… we’re worried about you.”
“OK.” I laugh. Because this is stupid. “That’s the third goddamned reason you’ve given me so far. First,” I say, holding up one finger, “you told me that you guys needed me to save your marriage. Because of Augustine. She missed me, and even though you don’t miss me”—I look at Alexander—“you love her and I was the only hope you had of keeping her. Then,” I say, ticking off another finger, “you tell me he’s dangerous or some bullshit like that. He can’t control himself. But oddly enough, none of that has come through in the sex we’ve had so far. And now,” I say, holding up a third finger. “Now you’re both in love with me. So which one is it?” I stare at them. First her, then him, then back to her. “Which of these is true and which are lies?”
Augustine opens her mouth to speak, but she stutters.”I… we… listen, you just…”
“We love you,” Alexander says. “I mean, for fuck’s sake, Wells. No one would put up with your bullshit if they didn’t love you.”
“I find your answer somewhat hard to believe.”
“Whatever,” he says. “I’m sick of explaining myself to you.”
“It’s just not… coming off as authentic,” I say. I look at Augustine and shrug. “Sorry. It’s just not.”
“Did we ever tell you why we split up?”
“Alexander,” Augustine interrupts. “No.”
“Shh,” he says. “Quiet. We did this your way and it’s not working. So it’s my turn now.” He directs his attention to me now. “Did we?”
“You know you didn’t,” I say. “Nothing beyond, ‘She was bored. I wasn’t enough for her.’ You know, your typical bullshit lies.”
He points his finger at me. “For the s
ake of everyone’s sanity, I’m gonna go ahead and ignore your standard sarcastic defense mechanism. It was about…” He looks at Augustine. “What? Four years ago?”
“Three and a half,” she says back.
“Fine. Three and a half years ago.”
I laugh. “That honeymoon didn’t last long.”
“We were in our old Westwood neighborhood for a theatre production at UCLA. And we were walking past the old apartment. I sold it shortly after you left. We moved into a house in Silver Lake. Anyway, I said…” And he stops to look at Augustine. “I said, ‘I miss those days.’ And she said, ‘You hated those days. You were never into sharing.’ And I said, ‘I don’t like sharing you, that’s true. It turned me into a jealous asshole. But I always knew he never wanted you. Not really, so I didn’t care. I always knew I could outlast him. I always knew he’d leave eventually. I always knew he’d get sick of you and move on.’”
“Ouch,” I say, looking over at August. She’s not looking at either of us.
“And she said—”
“And I said,” Augustine says, cutting him off. “I said, ‘Well, he was the only thing holding us together.’”
Alexander nods. “That’s what she said. It took me a few more months before I really thought about that. And another year to admit it was true. And another year after that to finally realize… I mean, I don’t know how I love you, Jordan. But this,” he says, waving his hand between himself and his wife. “This only works if we’re all here. Sometimes things come in threes. And… you know, I lied to her that day in Westwood. I lied. I liked it. I stayed because it felt good. I wasn’t jealous of you because… because I knew it wasn’t the attraction of a magnet. There was no push-pull of opposite poles. It wasn’t salt. That’s sodium chloride, right? Table salt. Those two things are held together by positive and negative charges. But simply adding water can undo those bonds. We were never that fragile. Not while we were three. We were like… triple bonds. Those rare things in nature that require more than one or two but three to be stable. And that makes us stronger, I think. That makes us… unique. And no, it’s not common. And no, it’s not for everyone. But we can’t help who we are. We can’t change our inherent natural qualities. We can’t be two.” He pauses. Draws in a long breath. “We simply cannot be two. We either exist alone or all three of us together. That’s just the way it is.”