Author Anonymous: A True Story

by E. K. Blair

  She nods and I walk over to give her a hug.

  “How are you doing?”

  “I got my epidural.”

  “That was fast.”

  “I labored at home for a few hours, so by the time we got here, I was dilated enough to go ahead and get it.”

  “Lucky you,” I say in jest, remembering how both my girls came so fast there was never enough time for drugs and I was forced to have them both naturally.

  “I’m so ready to meet her.” She smiles, cradling her belly in her arms.

  “You girls good?” Chris questions when he walks back in, but the joy dampens when I see Landon follow in behind.

  I slip off the edge of the bed when his eyes meet mine, my heart tangling with my stomach. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since I left two weeks ago. His eyes flit from mine to Brooke’s as he approaches her.

  “How are you doing?” he asks her.

  “I’m drugged,” she jokes, and he laughs a laugh I haven’t heard in such a long time, sinking my heart even deeper into my gut.

  I sidestep away and walk over to Chris who’s standing by the door.

  “Are you okay?” he asks from under his breath, and I hate how awkward this is when the four of us have always been so close and so united, now only to be divided.

  I nod and he wraps a supporting arm around my shoulders as I watch my husband and best friend talk.

  “Shh! Oh, my God, you two are so loud,” I whisper as we creep around the side of Brooke’s ex-boyfriend’s house he shares with a few of his frat brothers.

  Holding the flashlight, I shiver against the midnight bite of winter. Patches of snow crunch beneath our feet as Landon and Brooke give a pathetic attempt to contain their drunken laughter.

  The plot for revenge came about after too many beers at the bar we just left, and even though I was against the idea, I wasn’t about to let these two intoxicated idiots out of my sight.

  Brooke bellies over and muffles her laughs with her hands when Landon’s foot gets tangled in a hose and he trips to the ground. “Who the fuck has a hose strung out in the middle of winter?”

  “A penis face, that’s who,” Brooke slurs as Landon finds his footing. “That’s his window.”

  I look in the direction of where she’s pointing and shake my head. “Are you crazy? His room is on the second floor.”

  She jumps up and lands with her legs in a wide stance, chopping her hands like a ninja. “You doubt my skills?”

  Landon laughs at her.

  “You two are completely wasted.”

  “Come on, Landon. Give me a boost.”

  I turn the flashlight off and watch the two of them climb onto the air conditioning unit. Landon squats down to allow Brooke to sit on his shoulders. Their hands latch together, and when he moves to stand, he stumbles and they both break out into a fit of laughter. Once calm, she manages to grab on to the gutter and the two of them look like buffoons as he hoists her up to the roof. Her feet use Landon’s shoulders as leverage to kick off and boost herself up onto the roof, sending Landon flying off the metal box and falling ass first onto the ground.

  “Brooke, you’re gonna fall,” I scold, straining my whisper as she fumbles along the snowy roof.

  “The fucker broke up with me on his Facebook wall for everyone to see,” she snaps before crawling up to his window on hands and knees.

  Walking over to Landon, I hold out my hand to help him up. “Are you okay?”

  “Brooke,” he calls out on a breath, ignoring my question. “You forgot the bag.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the handcuffs and lacy panties we bought at a kink shop on the way here.

  He tosses the bag up to her, and we both watch as she opens the window and crawls in. As soon as we hear the loud thud of her ass hitting the floor, a barrel of laugher forces its way through Landon, but I keep an eye on the commotion above. Loud voices, the flash of Brooke’s camera, her ex shouting curses. Brooke crawls back through the window, slips on her feet, and slides down to the gutter, fucking it up and bending it as Landon runs over to help her down.

  We bolt, making our escape. The two of them clamor into the backseat, drunk and crazy as I start the engine and make our getaway.

  “Revenge is a bitch!” Brooke says before giving Landon a high-five in which they both miss.

  The good times seem light-years away from where we stand now. I don’t even know how we got to this place filled with so much heartbreak. The three of us used to be bound tightly in friendship, love, and happiness. We were young and free and so full of life. And now . . . everything has unraveled.

  A nurse comes in to check Brooke, and when I excuse myself, she tells me to stay. I inhale the familiar smell of Landon when he walks past me and leaves the room, his eyes remaining downcast. He’s my husband, but he feels like a stranger. I know everything about him, but nothing at all. I’ve drifted so far from everything, and now I stand here and feel like an outsider. This past year has changed me so much, so beyond recognition, that now they are the ones who look different.

  When the nurse finishes up and leaves the room, Brooke tells me, “You should talk to him.”

  “It’s not the right time. You’re about to have a baby.”

  “We’re going to be here all night. Are you really going to spend the next how-ever-many hours avoiding him?”

  I turn to look at Chris, and he adds, “She’s right. Now’s as good a time as any.”

  Instead of protesting, I make my way down to the waiting room where Landon sits.

  What do I even say? It’s not like I have an answer for him or anything.

  He looks at me when I slowly walk over and take a seat in one of the chairs facing him.

  “Hey,” I say awkwardly, as if it were the first time we’d ever spoken.

  We stare into each other’s eyes, and I release a silent prayer for God to reignite the passion I once had for Landon. If I could just get it back, I wouldn’t have to lose everything we’ve built. I sit and wait, hoping a higher spirit takes pity on me and saves me. But nothing happens. There’s nothing left between us except for the pain I’ve caused this man who never deserved an ounce of pain. I’ll forever crucify myself for what I’ve done to him, for the life I’m taking away from him.

  “I miss you.”

  I wish he wouldn’t say things I can’t say in return.

  “How are the girls?”

  “They miss you too,” he says.

  “It’s killing me to be apart from them.”

  “And what about me?”

  “Landon, don’t.”

  “Don’t what? Don’t ask my wife if she misses me?”

  I drop my head, hating every second of this. I don’t even know how to talk to him anymore. All the tension and hollowness I used to feel every time I left Alec for Landon returns. It pits my heart, chilling my bones, and my soul screams at me to run to Alec for warmth and safety.

  “Is there someone else?”

  “What? No.” I respond quickly, fearing he can hear my lying heart pounding the truth against my chest.

  “So what have you been doing these past two weeks?”

  Getting defensive, I tell him, “Releasing a book, Landon. I’ve been working and trying to figure out the next step for us.”

  “And have you figured it out?” His words drip in irritation and hurt.

  I stall, letting my eyes drift from him.

  “Can we at least talk?”

  “Isn’t that what we’re doing?” I respond.

  “I want to talk away from all this,” he says, gesturing to our surroundings. “Will you come home and talk to me?”

  Home.

  I don’t feel like I have a home anymore.

  “I don’t think I’m ready to come home just yet.”

  “Your hotel room then?”

  The hotel room your wife has been using to fuck the man she’s fallen in love with? I’m the worst type of disgrace.

  “Okay.”

 
Brooke wound up having a C-section that night. Even though it was uncomfortable, Landon and I didn’t leave until after we had the chance to see the baby and check in on our friend to make sure she was doing okay after the surgery. As much as I wanted to be there for Brooke, I was happy to get back to Alec—get back to the world that’s just ours, and ours alone. A world that feels so far away that it must be in a different universe altogether.

  It’s been three days since Anabelle was born, and Brooke is going stir-crazy while she waits to be released. She called me this morning, begging me to come and keep her company, and since Alec will be tied up in client meetings all day, it’s the perfect opportunity to get some snuggle time with my goddaughter.

  When I arrive, I laugh at the image of Brooke sucking down a miniature box of chocolate milk as if she were hammering back a shot of alcohol.

  “That must be some good chocolate milk,” I tease.

  “Don’t even with me,” she groans. “Please tell me you brought some real food.”

  When I hold up the to-go bag from Tossed, she throws her head back in exaggeration. “Thank God.”

  I pull out the two salads I ordered, and she’s eager to devour it. Setting mine aside, I walk over to the clear plastic bassinet and scoop up the tiny bundle. She sleeps deeply as I cradle her and walk over to the rocker and sit down.

  “So, where’s Chris?”

  “He’s spending some father-son time with Ryder.”

  “Have they said when you can go home?”

  “I told them I wanted to go today, but I think it’ll wind up being tomorrow,” she answers before shoveling a forkful of leaves into her mouth.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “My incision hurts like a bitch, and I’m terrified it’s going to pop open when I have to poop, but other than that, I feel glorious.”

  I laugh at her sarcasm and look to Anabelle. “Your mommy is off-the-rocker crazy.”

  “Speaking of crazy, what’s going on with you and Landon? I haven’t talked to him.”

  “Nothing,” I tell her. “He’s coming to the hotel to talk later this week.”

  “And Alec . . .?”

  “What about him?”

  “Is he really what you want?”

  Ever since I found out that he’s had sex with other women, I’ve been struggling. Countless questions taunt me, and I wonder what our future will look like. He couldn’t be more opposite of Landon. Everything about him, right down to his values and beliefs, contrasts everything I thought I wanted in a man. There’s no denying how much I’m drawn to Alec, but he’s stubborn and stuck in his ways. He still won’t tell me the words I’m desperate to hear, leaving me to trust in action alone, but I’m not sure its going to be enough to reassure me. I need the comfort of his words, but I also need to know that he can be monogamous.

  “Tor.” Brooke’s loud voice crashes through my thoughts, and when I look to her, she shakes her head, asking, “What’s taking you so long to answer?”

  I open my mouth to speak, but words fail me.

  Setting her food down, her tone shifts to seriousness when she asks, “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  Yeah. There’s a lot I’m not telling you because I’m too damn prideful to admit that I’m having doubts.

  “I know I came down on you and Alec the other day, but if there’s something going on . . . if something’s happened . . .”

  “You wouldn’t understand,” I defend, scared of what she’ll think if she knows the truth.

  “You want to know what I think?” she questions without any intention of letting me answer. “I think he’s shady.”

  “That’s not surprising.”

  “I’m serious. I mean, how much do you really know about this guy?”

  Growing annoyed. I stand and place Anabelle back in her bassinet before turning to Brooke and snapping, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Don’t get mad. I’m saying this as a friend and because I care about you, but I’m worried that somehow he’s gotten you so swept away that you can’t see the red flags.”

  “What red flags?”

  “I guess the first that comes to my mind is that he seems to always be available to you. I mean, you said he’s a partner at an advertising firm, right?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Yet he’s able to come and go as he pleases, and when he’s at work, he’s able to constantly text and call you. I dunno . . . seems a little shady.”

  “He’s not calling or texting me now,” I refute.

  “I’m serious, Tori,” she says, softening her voice in concern. “Have you been to his office? Seen where he works? Met any of his co-workers?”

  “No. We keep ourselves hidden for obvious reasons.”

  “Look, I know you say you love him, but I can see in your eyes that I’m not the only one who’s doubting him.”

  And now, all of those questions that were plaguing me before have just multiplied. She’s right—with a job like his, how is it possible that he’s able to text me for hours on end? I never bothered to wonder about this because I’m always blinded by intoxication. All I’ve ever cared about was having him around and having his attention. As long as he’s with me, in one way or another, I let everything in the world go so it’s only the two of us.

  “I hope I’m wrong,” she says. “But if you’re planning to leave Landon like you say you are, then you need to make sure this guy is who he says he is.”

  “He is. Now can we drop it?”

  I can’t let what Brooke said go. She planted more seeds of doubt, making me sick to my stomach. I don’t even want to entertain the idea that Alec isn’t who he says he is. I know he is. I’ve been with him for a year, and from the beginning, he’s been straightforward with me. When I asked him the other night if he’s had sex with other women, he could’ve easily lied to me, but he didn’t. He told me the cold hard truth knowing it would hurt me, knowing it could possibly drive me away.

  My phone buzzes with an incoming text as I sit in my hotel room. Brooke’s name pops up, and I open her message.

  Brooke: Don’t be mad, but I Googled the firm he works at and his name appears nowhere on the site. So, I called and asked for him and was told that no one by the name Alec works there.

  With icy fingers, I close out her message and drop the phone onto the coffee table. Disbelief rankles through my chest, unlocking a cage of anxiety.

  What the hell is going on?

  Limbs tremble as I walk over to my purse and pull out my disposable phone. Flipping it open, I quickly text him.

  Me: Are you still at work?

  While I wait for his response. I do my own research and look up the company on my main cellphone. I click on the Directory tab and scroll through, looking for Alec’s name when my other phone chimes.

  Alec: Left an hour ago. At the gym now.

  The anxiety thickens, and an overwhelming urge to find something incriminating about him floods all of my senses, taking me hostage. Tapping on the address bar I type in www.fetlife.com, but I no longer have access to the site because I deleted my account after I met Alec.

  I’ve never bothered to question him about still being on the site, because let’s be honest, I haven’t been thinking straight since the moment he entered my life.

  I click to register a new account, and just like before, I keep my details vague, and unlike before, I select my fetish as “Vanilla”. Entering a different username from my previous, I’m ready to submit the information to gain access to the site. Once everything is approved, I do a search for his username, and his profile pops up.

  I’m taken aback to the first time he messaged me—everything seemed so innocent and harmless.

  I click on his profile and scroll down to find recent activity. A wave of nausea hits me as I read the messages from women who have posted on his wall.

  Nice photos. You looking for a play partner?

  It was great seeing you the other night. Stop being a strang
er and come out to play more often.

  Did you talk to David yet? I still think he has tickets to the concert you mentioned wanting going to.

  Check out my pix and message me if interested.

  Jealousy flares, pricking its thorns through my overly sensitive flesh.

  Who the fuck are these people and why is he talking to them when he has me?

  I scroll up, unable to stomach reading any more posts and see the timestamp that notes his last login.

  Active 5 hours ago

  What was he doing on this site five hours ago when he was supposed to be at work?

  Tension mounts, and I feel I’m on the brink of a panic attack. I look to his profile picture and see his relationship status is Single.

  My thoughts run rampant, creating a monsoon of noises in my head as my pulse spikes. Exiting from the site, I jump off the couch and bolt out the door.

  On the verge of a catastrophic breakdown, I rush through the hotel, and run the few blocks it takes me to get to Alec’s building, in dire need of answers and explanations.

  When I hit the fifth floor, I walk down the hall to his door and knock, hoping he’s back from the gym, if that’s even where he really is. But there’s no answer.

  Out of breath from my racing heart, I lean my back against his door and slide down to the floor. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I drop my head to my knees and cry, wondering if I’ve destroyed everything for a lie. I’m so confused and hang on by a thread that I’ve handed over to Alec to hold because I trusted him.

  Tears soak through my jeans as I think about all my lies and all my betrayals. Have I fallen in love with a fraud?

  Time passes as chunks of my heart break away for the family I walked out on, but my heart also breaks for Alec because I love him. Because I have a year invested in him. Because I risked everything to be with him.

  “What are you doing on the floor?”

  Lifting my head, my cheeks burn against the salt of my dried tears.

  He rushes over to me when he sees my swollen eyes. “Are you okay?” He reaches down and I hold his hands as he helps me to my feet. “What happened?”

  He’s wearing long gym pants with a sweat-soaked shirt, and I find comfort in at least knowing he was where he told me. Needy to trust in all he’s led me to believe, I throw my arms around him and bury my head against his chest. The wetness from his shirt seeps into my pores and I succumb to his power to soothe and console.