The Mess You Left Behind: An Enemies-to-Lover Romance

by V. T. Do

  “Do we really have to get into this? Here, of all places?”

  “No,” Joey answered carefully. “But don’t you think this is a little out of character for you?”

  “I’ve never been with anyone besides Wyatt. Sex is a little out of character for me, and you know it. I’m still finding out things about myself that I never knew before. It’s... liberating.”

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  “How else would you put it?” When she didn’t answer, I turned to her. “I’m okay. I really am. You know Wyatt would never do anything to hurt me.”

  “Yes, but sex in a public bathroom?”

  I shrugged. “I wanted it as much as he did.”

  “And if you got caught, can you imagine what would happen if the tabloids found out?”

  I paled. I hadn’t thought of that. For the most part, social media and the tabloids left me alone. There were usually some stories written about me here or there, but I had done a pretty good job of making sure those stories were the ones I wanted the public to know. They revolved around my charities.

  But if a sex scandal were to come out... I didn’t want to know how my aunt would react.

  “That was careless on Wyatt’s part. He is going to be a huge part of your life, and that means adjusting to the fact that you’re well-known. There are things you just can’t do in public. We both know it.”

  “You’re right,” I said. But I couldn’t blame Wyatt. Neither of us had been thinking. It was just something that had happened, something I would have to make sure never happened again.

  “Do you think they’re ready for us?”

  I nodded. “It’s been a while. We should head out.”

  Joey stood up and grabbed my hand, pulling me up as well. “I’m not saying that you shouldn’t enjoy your time with him. I just worry about you. You know that, right?”

  I smiled. “I know.”

  “And with your reckless tendencies—”

  “Joey, we talked about this. I told you, I’m doing better.”

  “Okay. But you need to think things through before you do them.”

  “I know.”

  We walked out, and the sight that greeted us stopped us in our tracks. We’d come out just in time to see Cole punching Wyatt, and Wyatt falling down onto the cold, snow-covered ground.

  “Hey, stop it!” I yelled, running toward them. Joey was right behind me. “What’s going on?”

  Both men stopped what they were doing to look at us. I moved over to Wyatt, checking out his injuries. “Are you okay?” I asked, taking in his bloody nose, his busted knuckles, and the dark bruise that was already forming on his jaw.

  A quick glance at Cole told me he hadn’t fared well either. “What the hell is going on here?” Joey asked.

  “Nothing,” Wyatt said, picking himself up off the ground. He hooked his arms under my armpits and pulled me up as well.

  I frowned. “Nothing? You call beating the shit out of each other nothing?”

  “Whatever. Let’s just go home.”

  Cole spit on the ground, the blood in his saliva dotting the white snow with crimson. He shot Wyatt a look, before hauling Joey into his arms and to his car. We watched them leave.

  I turned to Wyatt when Cole’s car disappeared from view. “You want to tell me what’s really going on? You guys were fine when you left the restaurant.”

  “It’s nothing, Emery. Don’t worry about it,” he answered gruffly. And that just about pissed me off.

  “Fine.”

  I walked over to his car without another glance his way, slamming the door shut behind me. Wyatt stayed outside for a beat, kicking at the snow, before making his way to the car. We drove home in silence. I should have known better than to expect he would drive me to my home. This time, I didn’t say anything when he pulled inside the parking garage.

  We made it up to his apartment, and I walked into the guest bathroom for the first aid kit.

  “Sit,” I said, pointing to the couch. Wyatt did as I commanded without another word. Smart man.

  “Are you ready to tell me what’s really going on between you and Cole?” I asked, cleaning the blood off his knuckles. He winced, and I was angry enough to enjoy that.

  “Like I said, there is nothing to tell.”

  “Really? Are we really doing this?” I let go of his hand and placed the white gauze on the coffee table.

  “Emery, there really isn’t much to tell. We were talking, and an argument broke out. I said some things I shouldn’t have, and he did as well. And then we started fighting there in the parking lot.”

  “Someone could have called the police. And I don’t even get an explanation about why you were fighting?” I stood up, needing to get away from him. I knew if I stayed, I would say something I didn’t mean.

  He stood up too. When he made a move to grab me, I moved back. “Emery.”

  “No. This isn’t how we are supposed to solve things between us. You’re not supposed to use sex every time we get into a fight. It solves nothing.”

  “What would you have me do to speed things along? Try to resolve whatever it is by talking about it?”

  “Yes!”

  “And then what? When you find out things that will hurt you? When you use all that I am keeping from you as a reason to leave me? What am I supposed to do? Speed things along so you can leave my life sooner?”

  “Why do you think I’m going to leave you? Is what you know so unforgivable?”

  He didn’t answer. A part of me thought he was afraid to answer me, as much as I was afraid he would.

  I walked to his room and closed the door behind me. I let the silence in the air reassure me that everything would be fine.

  I lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Wyatt’s ceiling was different from mine. It didn’t have those horrid words he said to me written there. It was blank, and what did it say about me that I laid there missing those words? That I wanted to see them on this blank canvas above me.

  I wasn’t sure how long I stayed there. But when I looked out the window, the sky was turning a dark twilight blue. The sun set sooner in the wintertime than it did during the summer. Still, it felt like I had been here forever.

  I should have gone home.

  But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t want to leave this place, because just the thought felt too permanent.

  I knew there was this distance between us, and I was mostly responsible for putting it there. I’d thought, with everything going on, sex was a way we could find our way back to how we’d been before. But now, I wondered if sex had just been a way for us to temporarily ignore that distance. If it had served as nothing more than something we could use to convince ourselves that everything would be okay. That it would work out.

  Was sex nothing more than a Band-Aid on an amputated wound?

  I didn’t know anymore.

  I did know that I still wanted him. Even angry, I wanted him.

  I walked out of the room and into the living room. Wyatt was still sitting on the couch. I wasn’t sure if he’d left that spot since I’d walked away. He looked up when my feet squeaked on the hardwood floor.

  Neither of us said anything as I made my way over to him. Then I climbed onto his lap, and his arms went around my waist, holding me in place. His gray eyes were filled with regret as he cupped my jaw and brought me closer to him.

  He kissed me.

  The gentleness of this kiss surprised me, not because I didn’t think he was capable of being gentle, but because this was the kind of kiss that had eluded us for so long. For weeks, it had been nothing but hard and desperate and frantic. There was always this urgency in our kiss that demanded we ignore all else.

  But this kiss...

  It was slow and gentle and heartbreaking.

  It was heavy with all the things we left unsaid. Wyatt stood up with me still in his arms. I wrapped myself around him, my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, clinging to him so that w
e could become one.

  “Let me get you to bed,” he whispered in the space between our lips.

  “Okay,” I whispered back, not wanting my voice to be any louder. I didn’t want to break whatever this was, and with how fragile everything seemed, I was afraid that speaking in a higher volume would do it.

  Wyatt kissed me again while he walked to the bedroom. I didn’t know how he did it without bumping into things, but then he was laying me down on the bed, the softness of it cushioning my back while his hardness pushed against my front.

  “Wyatt,” I said, a tinge of agony in my voice. I needed him. I needed everything from him, and I would not accept anything less.

  He didn’t disappoint.

  He rid me of my clothing, then his, and then he was inside of me. He made love to me the way he’d kissed me just moments before. Slowly, reverently, beautifully.

  We stared into each other’s eyes as he brought us over the edge. And when it was done, I let him cocoon me in the safe space of his body, feeling more and more like my own personal body armor each and every time I found myself there.

  We slept after that, even if it was still early, and we slept as the storm outside raged loudly, pressing against the windows.

  ***

  I didn’t know what what time it was when I woke with a pressing need to pee. Carefully unraveling myself from Wyatt’s arms, I climbed off the bed, put on my clothes, and walked to the bathroom.

  After I was done relieving myself, I went to the sink and washed my hands. Then I turned the water to cold and splashed my face with it, hoping that would wake me up.

  The day was just beginning to end, and I wasn’t sure how we were supposed to sleep tonight, after sleeping most of the day away. The skin under my eyes was slightly swollen, as if I hadn’t slept in days. That felt true enough, considering how much time I spent lying awake at night, thinking about the photos and letters I’d found.

  I braced my hands on the sink, looking back at the girl in the mirror. She seemed to be deteriorating slowly, day by day. This was killing me.

  I licked my dried lips and pinched my cheeks a little, hoping to bring some color to them. I touched the tender skin below my eyes, the dark bags there making my green eyes even more prominent. I always had big eyes. And I knew it was something enviable.

  But now, they seemed way too big for my face. As if I was slowly fading, and all that was left were these big eyes.

  My grandpa had always told me that my eyes reminded him of someone. I’d always assumed he meant himself, but now that I was thinking about him more often these days, I didn’t think he’d meant himself anymore. He’d always sounded sad when he said it.

  I felt this tightness in my chest the longer I looked at my reflection. My heart pounded, and the answer came to me in an instant, so obvious I wondered how I had missed it.

  That wasn’t... possible.

  But the evidence was right here, right in front of me.

  The longer I looked in the mirror, the more obvious it became.

  Did Wyatt know?

  I didn’t think he did, or else he wouldn’t have pursued me. He wouldn’t have taken me to his bed, he wouldn’t have fallen in love with me.

  My image in the mirror blurred when I felt the first tear fall.

  There was more to this story, but I was certain about one thing.

  I didn’t cry. I didn’t even make any noise as my feet gave way and I fell to the cold tile floor. I was quiet. I didn’t want Wyatt to hear.

  Didn’t want Wyatt to witness my heart breaking in two, didn’t want Wyatt to witness my shame and anger and sadness all at once.

  It didn’t matter. How could he hear? When your heart broke, it seldom ever made any noise.

  We were all the same.

  How silent we break when it all fell down.

  It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

  She reminds me of someone.

  Did Joey know? Had she figured it out before me? I didn’t think so, because she would have said something. Anything.

  She reminds me of someone.

  Why didn’t we see the answer when it was right in front of us? Why couldn’t Wyatt have figured this out before? He would have stayed away from me. He wouldn’t have made me fall in love with him.

  She reminds me of someone.

  Why didn’t they tell me? Why didn’t my grandpa ever tell me? Didn’t I deserve to know? I had lived my whole life trying to find her in myself. Trying to see if I resembled her in any way. I knew I took after my father. I’d always thought even if the man who brought me into existence was no more than a stranger to me, he’d left more than just uncertainty behind. He gave me my fair skin and my smile. I had his nose, a very distinct nose that I’d always thought was too big for my face, and his eyes.

  I had his fucking eyes... didn’t I? Or were they someone else’s?

  I didn’t get all of my features from him.

  All of my best features I had gotten from my mother, hadn’t I?

  A small dimple on the left side of my cheek that only made an appearance when I laughed really hard. The thick, long lashes that surrounded my eyes, making the green stand out even more than usual, and the freckles on the bridge of my nose. Small and barely noticeable until you got up really close.

  Something Wyatt seemed to obsess over time and time again.

  She reminds me of someone.

  I buried my face in my arms and curled up in a ball. And then I broke.

  And I didn’t make a single noise.

  She reminds me of someone.

  Erin James was my mother.

  She reminds me of someone.

  She reminds me of someone.

  Of someone.

  Someone.

  Chapter Thirty-Three: If You Love Me, Let Me Go

  Emery

  Wyatt found me on the bathroom floor two hours later.

  From the corner of my eyes, I saw him pause in his step as he took me in. He stood over my pathetic form, and I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. I didn’t know how. So I didn’t protest when he bent down and picked me up.

  He brought me back to bed. The light in his room had been turned on, while the sky outside had turned pitch-black, with nothing more than the light of the city to keep us company. Wyatt left.

  I thought he’d gone to the kitchen, because I could hear a cabinet door opening and closing, then the faucet turning on and off. Then a pause, when he was completely silent. I could imagine him standing over the sink, a glass of water in one hand, the other braced on the counter, with his head down, obviously as lost as I was. Only for different reasons.

  I might be numb to it all.

  I thought it would hurt. I thought now that I knew the truth and what it meant for me, for us, it would hurt. But I didn’t feel a damn thing.

  All I could do was sit there, and try to decide what I should do next.

  I should leave.

  I shouldn’t be here.

  So why couldn’t I make myself leave?

  Wasn’t there shame in what I was doing? What I was allowing to happen? So why couldn’t I just leave?

  Leave.

  Leave.

  Just leave.

  My foot had touched the floor when Wyatt walked in. “Hey. I got you some water.” He frowned when he noticed my foot on the floor. “Are you going somewhere?”

  I hesitated for one long second. “No. I’m not going anywhere.” I took the glass of water he offered and drank a large gulp, loving the coldness of the water as it made its way down my throat. “Thank you.”

  Wyatt took the glass and set it on the nightstand before climbing back into bed with me. I let myself stay in his arms. Let myself revel one last time in the comfort that he brought. I wished we had the whole night.

  Would that have been so much to ask for that? I didn’t think so.

  But it was wrong.

  My cheeks flushed with shame, and I didn’t know how to make that feeling go away. How was I supposed t
o continue on with my life when it felt like everything was crumbling around me?

  The numbness I felt earlier had evaporated into nothing, and all that was left was this crushing feeling I had no way to get rid of. My chest hurt. It felt like something was exploding inside. I had to keep reminding myself that heartbreak wasn’t unique to me. That it could happen and had happened to everyone at some point in time, and that I’d be fine. Even if it felt like I might die just from this pain alone, I would be fine. Just fine.

  But I wasn’t fine right now. I wasn’t. I was hurting, and suddenly, it was just too damn much. I didn’t know how to lay there in his arms and pretend everything would be okay.

  I jumped out of bed. Wyatt sat up, a look of confusion on his face.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, the words sounding way too loud. His face paled. He knew what was coming.

  “Emery, before you say anything—”

  I shook my head, cutting him off. “I can’t do this anymore. I thought I could, but I was wrong. I have to end this—end us—right now, or I don’t think I will be able to walk away.”

  “Why? Everything was fine. Why are you doing this?” He climbed off the bed and stood in front of me.

  I shook my head and looked away from him. “You can’t say that. Things haven’t been fine for a while now. I think you know that too.”

  He made a move toward me but stopped when I took a step back. “Baby, let me explain. Let me tell you.”

  He didn’t understand. There wasn’t anything he could tell me that would make this better. He didn’t know, and I didn’t think I could tell him. The burden of this knowledge was for me to carry alone, and I didn’t want to inflict that kind of hurt on him. Maybe that was why his aunt had hated me on sight. It wasn’t because she was looking out for her nephew. But because she knew, and she couldn’t own up to it.

  “Let me go,” I told him. His eyes flashed with hurt, and I turned away, ignoring it, ignoring him.

  “I love you,” he said so softly it was almost hard to hear with this loud roaring in my ears.

  And I told him the first lie. “Well, I don’t love you.”