Long After

by Cheryl McIntyre

  He moans. I feel my eyes tear behind closed lids. I keep them sealed tight. It’s not dark enough to hide it and I can’t explain it. This just feels so wrong.

  And I realize it’s because, no matter what I’ve been telling myself, I don’t love Loden. Not even a little bit.

  Maybe I can learn to love him.

  I repeat this to myself as I grip his shoulders and try to get into the moment. I will my muscles to unclench. I attempt a deep breath, but his weight is pressing down on me, making me feel constricted, smothered.

  I bite the inside of my cheek and pray he finishes soon. I just want this over. Next time—next time will be better.

  Eyes pinching tighter, I try to think of something—anything—to help pass the time. And, God, I know this is bad. I know it, but I feel trapped. Not just by his body on mine, but in my mind. In my decision. In this relationship.

  I think of Chase and I don’t know why. I don’t know why I turn to him to help me through this moment, but I do. I picture his face. His smile. His laugh. And that way the light catches his eyes, making them glow. And I think of how much I love it when that happens.

  Loden moans again, long and loud. His body shudders and he goes limp on top of me. I run my hand over his sweaty back and wonder if he noticed my response to him—or lack of one. How could he not notice?

  I wipe my eyes before he can see the tears that managed to escape. And then I wait for him to get off me. I just want him off. I just want to go home.

  “That was incredible,” he rasps.

  I watch him pull back and I wince as something catches along the way. It feels like it rips along my insides, but I hold my breath and ride it out. He discards the condom and heaves himself to lie down beside me. Thankfully he doesn’t touch me again. I don’t think I could handle it. Not yet.

  I know I was a willing participant, but it almost doesn’t feel that way.

  I sit up and start getting dressed as quickly as I can without being obvious.

  “You taking off?”

  I clear my throat and nod. “Yeah. I need to study and unpack.”

  “Okay,” he says. He sits up and presses his lips against my back. I freeze.

  “Make an appointment,” he says.

  I shift away, picking up my shirt. “Okay.”

  “I want to feel you without anything between us,” he continues.

  I nod.

  “Next time you don’t have to be so shy.”

  Shy. I nod again. “Sorry. I was just a little nervous.”

  “You don’t have to be nervous with me,” he replies as he pushes off the bed. He pulls his pants on and wraps his arms around me.

  “I know.” I press a kiss into his cheek and pull away.

  “I’ll call you later.”

  “Okay,” I say as I head to the door, trying hard not to run.

  24

  Say You Like Me

  Chase

  I get back to school Sunday night. I spent the weekend hanging out with Heaven and it was fun. Easy. She’s awesome. Great sense of humor, superior taste in music, and when we went out to eat, she sat on her own side of the table. She’s a vegetarian, so she didn’t get a burger, but she ordered a shitload of fried appetizers and that just might be even better.

  I like being around her. I spent a lot of time laughing and that felt good as hell. And she’s hot, which is the best kind of perk. Finding a girl that’s attractive and funny—that’s my perfect combo.

  It sucks she lives over an hour away, but we decided to see what happens. She’s coming down on Friday and I’m actually excited to introduce her to Guy. Now I need to figure out what to do about Kayla. We’re not serious—there was never a relationship established, but I know I need to make a clean break.

  It’s close to ten and I’m lying in bed listening to music when my cell vibrates on my chest. I pick it up and stare at the screen. Annie. I was going to call her because I wasn’t expecting her to call me. Not after how I left things…

  “Hello?”

  “Hi,” she says softly, followed by a quiet throat clearing. “I’m checking in.”

  She sounds off. Something’s wrong. I don’t know if it’s me—because of the song—or if it’s something else entirely. I’m afraid to ask because I’m glad she’s talking to me. And I didn’t realize how much I missed her these past few days until I heard her voice.

  “All right. How was your long weekend?”

  She’s quiet. One beat. Two. “It was good. Yours?”

  She’s lying. I know she’s lying. I can hear it in the pitch of her voice. I close my eyes, trying to decide what to say. My other line beeps and I glance quickly at the caller ID. Heaven. Damn. I don’t even think about answering it. I like Heaven, but Annie’s upset about something and she’s been my friend longer.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  She laughs darkly, but doesn’t answer and it’s all the confirmation I need. “My mom actually didn’t screw up the turkey this year. Did Guy tell you?”

  “I haven’t seen him yet.” Annie obviously doesn’t want to talk about it, so I try to respect that. “I hope he brought me back leftovers.”

  She laughs. “You’ve been to my house how many times? You know how many people live there. There were no leftovers.”

  “Damn,” I sigh. “I’m hungry, too.”

  “Want to go to Manton’s?”

  “With you? Now?” I ask, surprised.

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “Okay. I’ll come pick you up?”

  “Give me five minutes.”

  What the hell is going on?

  ~*~

  I glance over at Annie, still trying to figure out why she’s in my car. Why we’re headed to Manton’s. Why she called me. This seems like more than honoring our agreement.

  I checked her immediately when she got into my car, my eyes flicking over her quickly, looking for any bruises. I didn’t see anything, but I do a more thorough inspection once we sit down in a booth. She looks fine. Pretty. Maybe a little sad.

  “How’s Loden?” I ask, probing. And there it is. Her shoulders stiffen, her eyes drop to the table top, and she bites down on her lip.

  “He’s fine. Good. Um, I met his parents this weekend. They’re nice.”

  “Mm. That’s good. He went home with you?”

  “Uh, yeah. We did the whole meet-the-family thing.” She runs her finger over a groove in the table and my eyes trail the movement.

  “How’d he handle that? Thanksgiving with the clan. Twins tear him apart?” The twins are the youngest. Dinner with four-year-olds still going through their terrible twos is kind of like venturing into Hell.

  With a sigh, Annie shakes her head. “Can we not talk about him?”

  I cock a brow. Oh, now I really want to talk about him. “He’s your boyfriend,” I say, raising my hands, palms out. “If he’s that boring of a subject then why you with him?”

  Not even kidding, she flinches. My thumb strums against my leg, tapping a beat out while I wait for her to answer me. The longer she sits there, quietly staring out the window, the more pissed I become.

  “What did he do?” I demand. What the fuck did he do to her this time? I’m done playing games.

  “Nothing,” she utters. “He didn’t do anything wrong. I just don’t feel like talking about him.”

  Bullshit. Bull-motherfucking-shit. “Did he hurt you again?” I hiss. If he did it again…

  “NO,” Annie says adamantly. “No. God, Chase. Calm down. He didn’t do anything. I swear.”

  I stare at her, holding her gaze and trying to decide if she’s telling the truth. I can’t tell. “Why don’t you want to talk about him? The romance fading?” That comes out shitty, so I try to soften my expression.

  She leans her head back and closes her eyes. “I just want to hear about your weekend. Just talk to me.”

  She doesn’t open her eyes, so I watch her for a moment. She’s so pretty, especially when she doesn’t try too hard. Like
right now, with her hair loose, slightly damp from the shower, minimal make-up—she looks perfect.

  “I met this girl,” I say. I don’t know why I tell her, but it just comes out. Annie’s eyes open and she blinks. “Met her waiting for the store to open for Black Friday. Her name’s Heaven.”

  “Is that her street name?” Annie asks. She says it in this light tone, making it impossible to tell if she’s joking or being judgmental.

  “That’s her real name,” I say.

  “I bet it helps with tips, though.”

  This time there is a distinct bite to her words. She pushes the hair off her shoulder and begins twisting her straw, stirring her drink. I laugh lowly. Is that jealousy? “She’s not a hooker or a stripper. She’s in school and she’s really nice.” I grin as I pick up my drink. “I think you’ll like her.”

  “You’ve never been real good at that,” Annie clips out.

  “Thinking?”

  “Exactly.”

  Oh, I missed this. I missed her rapid and flawless delivery of shitty retorts, the smartass mouth, and fiery attitude. How quickly she comes out to play at the mention of another girl. And now I’m wondering what tonight was really about.

  Why is she acting like she’s resentful when she has the ideal, does-no-wrong, shits-rainbows-and-sunshine kind of boyfriend. (I may be paraphrasing.) Why does she care who I meet, or who I talk to, or what Heaven’s name is?

  “What happened to our truce?” I inquire casually.

  “I haven’t called you an asshole,” she states. “Yet.” She narrows her blue eyes on me and smiles icily. “But there’s still plenty of time.”

  Damn—jealous is sexy on Annie. She wears that shit well. I like this so much more than the quiet, melancholy girl from just minutes ago. I like it a lot. And I know I shouldn’t find jealousy hot or even condone it, but I don’t feel bad about it. It doesn’t feel wrong. In fact, it feels really right.

  “Calm down there, sparky,” I say through a chuckle. “Heaven is very likable. And hot,” I add just to provoke her. Which it shouldn’t since there is the boyfriend.

  “I’m perfectly calm,” Annie replies. “And I’m sure your prostitute girlfriend is attractive. Thanks for sharing.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” I say seriously, wanting to make that clear. “We’re just taking it slow. Seeing if there’s anything there. I have no idea where it’ll lead.” Annie watches me silently, her eyes raking over me slowly as she weighs my words. I sit back and look at her evenly. “I’m keeping my options open. You never know if the right person will end up right in front of you.”

  Her blonde brows rise and her cheeks ignite. “Do you think that exists? That there’s one right person meant for us?”

  “I don’t know,” I say honestly. “But I think we all have that person we connect to on a higher level than with anybody else. That one person that makes us feel safe. That feels like home. Ya know?”

  Annie flicks her eyes away. “No,” she says flatly.

  25

  When You Were Young

  Annie

  I hold my breath, waiting for Loden to loosen his grip. He has my wrists pinned to the wall on each side of my head. I whimper, hoping he’ll release me, but he squeezes tighter instead. I turn my face away as he screams at me, his voice throbbing. It only turns his anger up another notch. He jerks my arms, pulling me away from the wall just to slam me back against it again. I gasp, not in shock—his actions no longer surprise me—but in response to the pain that pierces the back of my head.

  If you asked me how this happened, how I wound up here, I couldn’t tell you. So please don’t ask. There was not one specific act that landed me in this situation. It was a series of wrong choices and bad decisions. So many bad decisions.

  I should have walked away at the very first sign—that first time he scared me. I shouldn’t have ever taken him back. But I thought I could fix this. I thought he was worth it. I thought I was lucky to have him.

  Now I’m just numb.

  “Tell me,” he spits. His breath is hot against my cheek and I tremble. All I have to do is get through the next six months. Then he’ll be gone, off to law school where maybe he’ll find somebody he finds more fitting to be the future Mrs. Guiles. Because that role is no longer reserved for me. I can’t. I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t do this for the rest of my life. I can’t be his perfect little stepford wife.

  “You were with him again, weren’t you?” He presses into me, his firm body tight against mine, holding me in place though I don’t try to get away. I know better than that.

  “Did you fuck him?”

  No. Cheating is Loden’s job. Not mine.

  The first time he hit me was the weekend after we came back from Thanksgiving break. After we had sex for the first time. I went over to Chase’s dorm to meet Heaven. I wanted to see her. I needed to know what she looked like. I needed to see what Chase found so appealing about this girl. Thirty minutes after the initial awkward greetings, I saw it. Not only is she gorgeous in this exotic and quirky way with dark hair and eyes that are striking against her pale skin, but she’s smart and so funny with this subtle humor that I found myself laughing right along with everyone else. And then I got really depressed because even I loved her.

  So I went to Loden’s unannounced, hoping he could offer me a little attention, a little praise, a little something to make me forget about Chase and the perfect Heaven he found.

  But Loden wasn’t alone in his apartment. There was a girl with him, and I don’t know if I would’ve thought too much about it, but he answered the door shirtless. The girl was even less clothed than that. I don’t even know if she goes to school with us. She looked too young to be in college. I didn’t ask.

  I waited for her to dress herself and leave before I freaked out. I was mad and hurt. I’m not sure if the hurt came from finding Loden with someone else or if it was left over from meeting Heaven—a girl I can never compete against—or maybe it was the final straw. I wasn’t good enough for anybody obviously.

  I cried. I yelled. I told him I didn’t want to see him ever again and headed for the door. But I didn’t make it. Loden liked being yelled at about as much as he liked being dumped, which wasn’t at all. I felt his hands in my hair before I hit the floor on the other side of the room, and then he was on me. The next thing I felt was the back of his hand. With everything he’d ever done, hitting me had never been on that list. After that, the shock deadened my senses, making the rest seem insignificant.

  It’s not insignificant.

  He threatened that if I ever tried to leave again, he’d do much worse to me. This wasn’t the perfect life I was promised. This was a failure of a relationship, but I was trapped.

  “Answer me,” Loden shouts, bringing me back to the present. God, I wish I could melt away. Sink into the floor, or the wall, or into nothingness.

  “You fucking whore,” he hisses. “You let him inside you?” His fingers unwind their vice grip on my wrists and skim down my hair until they find purchase on my neck. My throat. I know I need to say something before he makes it impossible to speak.

  “No, Loden,” I whisper. “No. Only you. I don’t let anybody inside me except you. Just you.”

  His eyes are dark with rage and I have no idea how to ease his anger. All I know is I’m alone. Completely alone. I have no one to turn to. It’s just me and him. I lean my head toward him slowly, so slowly. Carefully. He allows me to touch my lips to his, but he’s unresponsive at first. I slide my tongue over his upper lip before slipping inside. At the first meeting of our tongues—mine warm, his cold from breathing heavy—he groans and kisses me back feverishly.

  His hands drop from my throat and squeeze my breasts. He thrusts his hips forward and moans.

  “Why do you do this to me?” he murmurs, his mouth still against mine. “Why do you make me go crazy?”

  It’s my fault. Always my fault.

  “Why can’t you just stay away from him?”
His hands move a little rougher, his fingers digging a little deeper into my skin. “Can’t you see how much I love you? Can’t you feel it?”

  Loden pulls back long enough to remove my shirt. He lowers his head to my chest and kisses my bare flesh, pulling my bra out of the way. “Don’t you see? I’d do anything to keep you.”

  I hope that isn’t true. I hope and pray he’ll leave and some other girl can play this game better than I do.

  “Tell me you love me,” Loden demands. He lifts his face, his eyes meeting mine, waiting.

  I swallow tightly. Of all the lies I’ve ever told, this one is the hardest to pull off. To look at a person I’m only with because I know no other way—someone I loathe with everything in me—and claim I love him is the most difficult thing I’ve done or will ever do.

  “I love you,” I say. I guess I convince him, or maybe he doesn’t care it’s a lie. He crashes into me, his mouth seizing mine possessively.

  This has become my life. I secretly talk to Chase every night on the phone. The only part of my day I feel good. Free. We see each other once, maybe twice a week. An hour at Manton’s in the middle of the night, or an hour at the gym, or if I’m really lucky, I can manage a couple hours with him at Guy’s apartment under the pretext of seeing my step-brother. But that doesn’t happen often because Loden knows there’s a chance I’ll be around Chase.

  And Loden grills me when he suspects I’ve been anywhere near Chase. If he knew about our nightly phone calls I don’t know what he’d do. If he ever had real proof of the time I spend in Chase’s company…I’m afraid to even consider the possibilities.

  Tonight started because I mentioned Guy has a new boyfriend. Something so little and simple. But I didn’t tell him I was going to see Guy. Stupid me for being happy for my step-brother. Now I’ll have bruises to worry about covering. Because nobody can know.

  Just six more months. I remind myself of this over and over as Loden’s tongue brushes over my skin. I shiver and he mistakes it as desire. And I let him. It’s so much easier that way. Really, I feel nothing except the occasional disgust or fear. I’m dying inside. I know it.

  ~*~

  Sometimes I try to fool myself into thinking Loden’s not entirely bad. There are these rare moments where he’s so gentle and caring that I let my defenses down, just for a little while, and let myself believe that maybe it’ll get better.

  Like right now. We’re at a party and he’s holding me against his chest, his hands that hurt me just days ago are now caressing my back tenderly. He whispers sweetly against my ear, telling me everything he loves about me.

  If he could stay like this, we might be able to make it work. If he stayed like this, maybe I could try to get past everything he’s done to me.