by Ella Fields
I didn’t give my heart permission to grieve. So it took what it needed when I wasn’t able to stop it.
The next morning, I got a call saying a dorm room had been arranged, but I went to class. Even though it was the last thing I felt like doing, I couldn’t let this ruin everything.
Afterward, I began the awesome task of carting my boxes from the back of my Rover up three flights of stairs.
I’d never once regretted my clothing addiction or my collection of purses and shoes I needed to match any outfit I wore until that afternoon.
Sweating and breathing embarrassingly hard, I dumped all my boxes outside the room closest to the stairs and found parking for my car in a small lot behind the dorms.
I was brushing my hair back from my face and preparing to knock when the door opened, and a blonde poked her head out. “Oh.”
“Hi, looks like I’m your new roommate.”
She looked less than pleased, and I couldn’t blame her. It’d been well over a month since classes had started, which I found to be frightening, and she probably thought she was in the clear on the roommate front.
How could a matter of weeks change everything? No, not weeks. One night.
Edging back into the room, she offered a weak smile. “I’m Hannah. I guess it’ll be cool to have someone to hang with.”
Hang with.
I was done making new friends, but I didn’t have the energy, nor the inclination to share that with Hannah. “I like your hair,” I said, my tone bland as I stepped by her and glanced around the shoebox-size room.
It was as big as my walk-in closet back home. But it was clean with minimal cosmetics and books lying around. Two beds were on opposite sides of the room with nightstands next to them. A desk sat by the window, and two small dressers near the ends of the beds. I’d be lucky if my shoe collection alone fit inside the tiny wooden ensemble.
I sighed, thinking I might have to keep a few boxes in my car for the time being, then unpacked as much as I could fit into the drawers and the wardrobe. An old wardrobe I had to share with Hannah, who’d already filled most of it and made lots of huffing noises when I started pushing her things to one side.
She sat on the bed, flipping through a magazine the whole time, so I didn’t know what else she expected me to do.
“Oh, my God. Is that last summer’s Diane Pearl?” Hannah gasped, finally getting off her bed and snatching the wedged heel from my hand to inspect it from various angles.
“This past summer, yes. And aren’t they to die for?”
“Yes,” she said with emphasis. “Like I’m for real dying, it’s actually hard to breathe.” She carefully set the shoe on her pink duvet, fanning her face with her hands.
I tried not to snort, taking the last set of heels out and carefully situating them on top of the rest. There was no room, so I had to stack them on top of one another on the bottom of the wardrobe. I prayed they wouldn’t get scuff marks.
“You know what? I think I won’t mind having you here. We can totally swap shoes,” Hannah said, passing the wedge back to me.
I looked at her side of the wardrobe, noticing a lot of her clothes and shoes were out of season but still gorgeous. “Perhaps,” I said tightly.
I’d just been dumped by my boyfriend of almost three years, husband of three months, for a crime I never would’ve dreamed I’d commit, and there I was … talking about footwear instead of my weeping heart.
Priorities.
Not that I would anyway. It was bad enough that most of campus knew, and the fact that this girl hadn’t mentioned anything was a huge relief.
Hannah rambled on about all my clothes, shoes, and the many places in the world she’d love to visit for their fashion.
Safe. Already, I knew this girl’s inner workings, watched her mannerisms, and deemed her safe. It was scarily easy to assess a person’s personality sometimes, especially when they had no qualms about laying it all out in the open for the world to dissect.
There’d be no more Kristys. No more Hildas.
Just me, myself, and I until I found a way to get my husband back.
After braving the communal bathroom for a shower, I fell asleep thinking of runways instead of dark eyes filled with betrayal.
For that, I was thankful for this new non-friend.
Three days passed before I finally thought he might be willing to speak with me.
Although I’d soon realize three years might not be long enough.
People mess up all the time, I reminded myself as I waited outside the science building, my Prada sunglasses doing nothing to keep the glare from watering my eyes.
I wouldn’t just give up and fade out of his life. We’d weathered our families’ drama and the gossip mongers of high school—we were us. I was his wife. We’d taken vows.
Vows that I’d broken.
My tongue felt thick as the doors opened, and students came rushing out. He didn’t see me at first, his head was down, eyes pinned on his phone. I waited until he hit the white pebbled path, then stood.
He saw me then, tucking his phone into his pocket as he stared at me. Only a small patch of grass and rocks separated us, and I could still see it. The dark shadows beneath his eyes, and the stiffness to his shoulders.
He started walking, and I followed. Followed him all the way to the outskirts of campus where he stopped at the set of lights to cross the street to our apartment building.
His apartment building.
I made it across before he whirled on me, his voice deceptively aloof. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t end up sleeping in your car. Far too resourceful for that.”
Squaring my shoulders, I tried to smile but couldn’t. “A little cramped.” This wasn’t permanent, but still, I wanted to see if I could scare him a little. “I moved into a dorm room.”
He blinked slowly, then nodded once. “Good, enjoy.”
My mouth gaped as he walked toward the entrance of the building. “Callum, wait.”
He didn’t, so I scurried over the pavement, almost tripping in my haste to stop him from reaching the doors. From disappearing out of my line of vision. “Please,” I said.
He sighed. “I’d rather not.”
I moved in front of him. “I’m sorry. I never meant to … do something like that. Ever.”
He seemed to be biting his cheek, making those stark cheekbones draw my gaze. I missed him. It’d only been days, but I missed him so much my body swayed as my eyes soaked in his features.
“But you did it anyway.”
“I’m …”
“Sorry?” He laughed a cold laugh. “I bet you are. But you’re not understanding. Your words are wasted here. We’re done.”
“We’re not.”
His brows shot up, and he shook his head as he stepped closer to hiss, “We. Are. Fucking. Done.”
Grappling for something to say, anything to say, I came up short. “We’re married, Callum.”
“People get married and divorced all the time. I’ll see that that’s taken care of. Now run along already.” His eyes roamed over me from head to toe, his jaw working overtime. “Just looking at you makes me feel sick.”
“Don’t,” I wheezed out, eyes smarting. “Don’t say those things or act like this.”
I knew better than to think this was him. He was lashing out, which was understandable.
“You’ll have to excuse me for finding it a little too hard not to hate you after what you’ve done.”
“You don’t mean—”
“Enough.” The word cut through the air, through me, like a serrated knife. “Forget getting a fucking dorm room, you should leave Gray Springs.”
A tremor ran through my hands, a single tear escaping as he disappeared inside the tinted glass doors.
Spending your life shrouded in the finest things this world has to offer always comes with a price. My debt was now paid.
Lust, lies, secrets, deceit. Our world was full of it all.
All except for tho
se elusive things that couldn’t be bought.
Trust.
You couldn’t unfold something that’d been scrunched into an unrecognizable ball and doused in super glue. It would never look the same, no matter how much you longed for it to.
There’d be creases where there were once smooth edges. Tears where something once fit together so seamlessly. Let’s not forget the fear that with the slightest wrong move, it’d become ruined all over again.
No, trust was something I’d always thought a fanciful notion. The idea that you could single-handedly rely on someone else without hesitation and without a thought was uncanny.
And there was nothing like being reminded that I’d been right, and from a very young age at that. Perhaps that was why I’d given in to the urge to go after something I couldn’t seem to shake off. Because for a life-changing moment, I’d thought I was just young and stubborn, and that maybe it was wrong not to take chances. Not to live and learn to love.
It was fun while it lasted, but that fun now left a stain I couldn’t seem to wipe off.
“Welsh, spot O’Rourke.”
At Coach’s command, I snapped out of my thoughts, dropping my weights to the ground and staring daggers at the back of his bald head.
“I’ve got lunges to do,” I protested. Anything not to have to go near the slime that had infested my life.
“Think I give a crap? He’s got no one to spot him, so just do it already.” He stormed over to the other side of the gym, taking notes on his clipboard as he watched Paul and Quinn.
I’d managed to avoid the asshole. I knew that if I got too close to him, I’d likely rip his head clean off and stomp on it.
If Renee thought she’d seen some of my wrath, she’d think herself lucky if she knew of the rage I felt when I looked at Mike.
He’d been my friend since grade school. Our mothers on the same charity committees and school fundraising boards. He’d eaten a bug sandwich I’d made in the sandbox outside in the fourth grade. A test I’d made him take if he wanted to be worthy enough to be my friend.
He’d taken two bites before hurling into the sandbox, other kids watching on with laughter ringing through the springtime air. He thought he’d failed and almost started crying. The fact he’d even done what I’d asked had meant he hadn’t failed, and we’d been best friends ever since.
He’d always been too soft for his own good, which made some tiny part of me worry for him. You didn’t survive in our world without hardening your heart to a certain degree.
But maybe it was the soft ones you had to look out for in the end.
“Better do as he said, man,” Toby said beside me. “I’d do it for you, but …” he trailed off, shrugging and bending to tie his sneaker.
But Coach would get suspicious and probably try to pull me and Mike into the same room for some fucked-up intervention. He didn’t like anything messing with the player’s heads. You left your shit off the field, and you had each other’s backs.
Cursing colorfully beneath my breath, I walked over to where Mike was adjusting the weights on the bench press.
Satisfied, he laid down, startling when he saw me looming over him. “Cal…”
“Don’t talk. Lift or fuck off and do something else.”
Mike swallowed but did as I said as I got into position. Never one to argue, but apparently one to sneak into bed with someone’s wife.
My fists clenched as I watched him struggle, beads of sweat rolling down his temples. Did he break a sweat when he fucked my wife? Did he even think about me when he took advantage of someone who didn’t belong to him?
I belong with you, not to you.
My teeth grinded, toes curling so hard in my sneakers that an ache shot through my feet. It was a nice distraction from the one that resided in my chest. I doubted that’d ever fucking leave.
“Cal, talk to me,” Mike panted between lifts.
“You really don’t want that.”
A push of breath, his arms shaking as he lifted again. “I do. I fucked up—”
“You’re saying you admit to fucking …” I swallowed, eyes closing briefly before I rasped, “Renee?”
His eyes shuttered. “We were drunk.”
I stepped back, rage funneling through me and rendering me breathless, blind, as Mike struggled to make the tenth rep. “Shit, help.”
I could hardly see him, hardly place where I was. Something had filmed over my eyes; my ears filled with the thunderous noise of my heartbeat.
One of the guys cursed, then Burrows was running over and lifting the weights back onto the bar. Burrows turned on me, my vision clearing enough to see Mike staring at me in horror. “The fuck, man?” Burrows glared.
I said nothing, grabbed my bag, and stalked out of the gym. Coach called after me, but I ignored him, jumped into my Lexus, and sped out of the lot.
Parked in the dark, abandoned parking garage of our … my apartment building, I turned the ignition off and stared at the brick wall in front of me. My hand shook as I lifted it to my mouth and bit down on it.
They’d wrecked me. Annihilated any shred of what once was.
I belong with you, and you only.
Vows were useless words. They meant nothing, especially not to her.
She was a liar. A beautiful, manipulative liar. Deep down, I’d always known what she was capable of. I just never thought she’d set her sights on destroying me.
A ragged breath left me, warming my fist as my teeth drew blood. It was squeezing, this thing in my chest. Wrung out, twisted, and it hurt so much I couldn’t breathe.
My cheeks grew wet. My breathing labored, grunting pants as I tried to sniff back the evidence of what they’d done.
I didn’t know how long I sat there, trying to control the uncontrollable. It could’ve been minutes or hours. I was underground, no light to be seen than that of the rows of florescent ones hanging from the ceiling outside the garages.
Swiping at my face, I hung my head.
I couldn’t do this, yet, at the same time, I couldn’t see a way out of this. Falling in love changed you bit by bit in a way you didn’t realize until that love had left you suffocating in the remaining pieces of who you once were.
If this was what I had to live with, what I had to endure … I was afraid it’d kill me slowly.
I lifted my head, staring at that same brick wall, taking note of the cement holding all the bricks together. Fortifying the very foundation of this building.
Strength. How did you find it when there was nothing to hold you together, to provide you with any ounce of real support?
You’d be a fox.
Never cross the fox.
In the days since, I think it was the first memory I’d had that didn’t threaten to send me buckling over.
I sniffed, opening my door as my lips twitched.
Never cross the fox indeed.
“But it’s your birthday tomorrow,” my mother whined. “If that’s not a good enough excuse to come shopping with me, then I don’t know what is.”
I was correct in my assumption that Callum wouldn’t blab about our business to our parents. At least, he hadn’t yet. “I know, but with finals approaching, I need to study.”
I listened to her sigh and then rant about some new member on one of the committees she ran before I was finally able to hang up the phone.
“We should hit that party down on Frankston tonight,” Hannah said, filing her nails at the desk by the window.
I wished she wouldn’t, as I actually liked to use the desk to study. Something Hannah never seemed too invested in.
Phone still in hand, I pondered her question as I started flicking through Pinterest for new ideas. It’d been weeks since I’d sewn anything. Not even a glance at my box of half-finished cross-stitches that were living in the trunk of my car could rouse any interest.
“Who’s going?” I asked, closing the app and sitting up on my bed. I didn’t deign to decorate my side of the room. It was only temporar
y, so there wasn’t much point.
After inspecting her nails, Hannah started counting off groups on her fingers. “The lacrosse team, the football team, the—”
“Okay.” I cut her off, determination firing through me as I stood. “I’m in.”
I was zipping up my lavender tunic dress and slipping my feet into my white peep-toe heels when she finally asked, “So did you really cheat on your boyfriend with his best friend?”
Hannah fluffed her blond locks, swiping a finger beneath her eye as she stared at her reflection.
“I thought you’d never ask,” I muttered dryly as I checked my clutch to make sure I had cash in there.
“I’ve wanted to. It was all anyone talked about for the whole week you moved in.”
With a clang, I snapped my clutch closed. “So why didn’t you?”
Hannah shrugged, peeling a cardigan off the hanger in the wardrobe. “You seemed all mopey and stuff. You still kind of do. No offense.”
My brows rose, but I kept my mouth shut. Mopey. The last thing I ever wanted to be called was mopey. If I thought keeping my chin up and wearing my favorite shade of red could hide what was simmering beneath, I was wrong.
Nothing to be done about it now but try to do better, I supposed.
“It doesn’t matter; it’ll all fix itself eventually.”
“Uh-huh,” Hannah murmured, sounding unconvinced.
I didn’t let that affect me. I couldn’t.
I’d learned many hard lessons since arriving at Gray Springs. But the one that stood out with horrifying clarity was that I never realized how much of myself I’d given away. Not until it became clear that my survival hinged on getting her back.
And the key to that girl was him.
But when we reached the frat house, ivy crawling all over the exterior like a leafy serpent, and walked inside, I wondered if I could ever truly stop this from affecting me.
He was there, standing around the pool table with a few guys I didn’t recognize, and a girl beside him.
My heart bounced into my stomach, the wind momentarily knocked out of me.
It never occurred to me that he’d do this. That he might seek retribution in a way that shook any belief I had.