So Screwed

by Melissa Marino

  “I think,” she said, pausing and pressing her eyelids together tightly. “No. I know. I know, I know.”

  “What?”

  Her eyes flickered open, and with a strong stare, she said, “I’m…falling in love with you.”

  I sucked in a rush of air, the power of her words leaving me breathless. It was exactly what I wanted to say. I wanted to say more. So much more.

  I leaned my forehead against hers. “I’m right there with you, beautiful. Completely. You’re…everything to me.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  EVELYN—

  I stood over him as he slept, the white cotton sheet wrapped around his lower hips and every curve of his smooth chest illuminated by the hint of the early morning sun filtering through the slits of his blinds.

  I didn’t want to leave him.

  I had only just let him into my heart, trusting him with it, and now I had to leave.

  “It’s only three months,” I kept telling myself, but the ache in my heart fought against logic.

  It was every cliché I never believed. How the words he spoke to me the night before sunk into my skin, attaching itself to every part of my insides. How I swore our hearts were beating in unison when he moved above me, inside of me. How it wasn’t just sex anymore for pleasure. It was getting as close as we could, our bodies intertwined, and our breaths came out as one so we didn’t know where one of his started and the other ended. What I had with Abel, even in the short amount of time together, was nothing like I’d had with Patrick. Once that realization hit, I knew I was safe with him. He wouldn’t hurt me, and that knowledge, the notion that weight carried was lifted off me, made me relish in only the amazing things Abel and I shared.

  I glanced at the clock beside his bed: 7:23 a.m. I had to go now.

  “Hey, handsome,” I whispered in his ear, running my hand across his warm chest. “I have to go.”

  He stirred, stretching his arms above his head before his eyes fluttered open. That moment when you’re leaving sleep, when you’re still in dreamland was always the best. But the next moment was the worst, when the realization of what the real world was holding came crashing down around you. I saw it happen to him before my eyes. A sleepy smile and tug on my hand to bring me close to him before it all faded and his dimples disappeared.

  He sat up against the headboard and wrapped his arms around my waist, tugging me to him. I crawled up and sat on his lap, resting my cheek against his strong, muscular shoulder.

  “Be safe, beautiful,” he said, his voice broken from sleep. “I’ll miss you madly.”

  I placed a kiss on his shoulder, my red lipstick leaving a mark on his skin. “I’ll see you next month when you visit for the weekend, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  We sat silent for a few minutes, and I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. I pulled away, placing the palm of my hands against his cheeks. I’d wanted to tell him I loved him. I wanted to tell him before I left, but I chickened out the night before by only saying I was falling in love. It was a lie. I loved him.

  His hand met mine on his face, and his eyes closed as we both tried to drag out the final moments. When his eyes reached mine again, I thought I saw the same thing there I’d been hiding myself. The conflict just below the surface, the confusion in the wrinkle between his forehead that let me know he was fighting something.

  Tears prickled my eyes, but I wasn’t going to let him see that, so I pushed them down. It was fine. It was all fine. We were going to be fine. I trusted him. I did. He’d given me no reason not to. No matter what anyone else said, I trusted him.

  He took my face in his hands and brought me to his lips. Kisses so soft, so chaste, I breathed a sigh against his own. I wanted the taste of him, the feel of his hands dragging through my hair, even the noise of the traffic below us, to be committed to memory. I had to do it because I knew I’d need it.

  “You stay here,” I said, pulling away. “I want to walk out of this room, thinking of my sexy boyfriend lying all naked in this bed.”

  “Call me when you get there?”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.”

  * * *

  Bridget asked me to stop by the office for a minute before I headed to the airport. It was a pain in the ass considering all my luggage, and after leaving Abel, I wanted to just be on my way. The longer I stayed in Chicago, the more I’d want to run right back to him.

  Dragging my two suitcases, carry-on bag, and purse through the office door was annoying enough. The fact that Bridget was standing there watching me struggle, snorting into her coffee cup made me downright cranky.

  “Keep laughing,” I snapped. “And I’ll have no choice but to tell you I quit.”

  She set her white cup down on my desk, no doubt leaving a ring on the glass top. “You’ll never leave me.”

  I sighed as I dropped all my bags by the door. “What did you need that couldn’t be done over email? Or phone? Or when I was here yesterday?”

  “You’re going to want to drop the attitude if you want what I have.”

  “That depends on what it is.”

  She reached below my desk and lifted out a white Birkin. It looked exactly like her precious. A rare, genuine smile spread across her face as she held it out in front of her by the two straps.

  “What?” I asked. “You need me to drop it off somewhere? Does it need a repair?”

  “No. I want you to take it to Charleston with you, Evelyn.”

  “Oh no,” I said. “I’m not dragging another thing with me there because you want it monogrammed or some shit at a place there. I’m sorry, but overnight it there or something.”

  “Is your brain in one of your suitcases? This is yours.”

  No way. There was no way. I didn’t know what to say, so I stood there with my mouth hanging open because there really was no way.

  “What is your problem?” Bridget asked, swinging the bag back and forth. “You don’t want it?”

  “Of course I do! I…I…I—”

  “I figured you’d need your own power bag while you’re down south, working it on my behalf.”

  I inched toward her, holding my hands out to the Pretty. My fingers gingerly brushed against the smooth leather and the flawless design until Bridget released it into my grip.

  “Do you want the dust bag or—”

  “No,” I shouted. “I mean, no thank you. I’m using it now, and I promise I’ll take such good care of it.”

  “Of course you will. I’m counting on you, Evelyn.”

  I knew she was and why her giving me the Birkin was so much more than a gesture. This trip was going to make or break my career. It was my time to rise above expectations. It was why when I looked down over Chicago on the plane ride to Charleston, the ache in my heart that was missing Abel already would be mitigated by what I’d be doing there. I had worked for so many years for this. With the Birkin next to me, sitting in its own empty seat to my left, I knew. I knew as we lifted toward the clouds, the Chicago skyline below us, I was ready.

  * * *

  Charleston was as beautiful and as quaint as I thought it would be. Old Southern charm surrounded by historic buildings and wisteria plants. The new By Invitation Only was on a lovely magnolia-lined street in an old building with large bay windows overlooking the bustling downtown action.

  The office was simple but sophisticated, a little Southern, but definitely had Bridget’s flair decorating it. The moment I walked in, I was taken by the bright sunlight reflecting off the white, polished furniture. We didn’t have much of a view in Chicago, and during the winter months, all we’d see was gray and snow. A few months in Charleston would be enough sunshine and warmth to last me through the frigid temperatures I’d be returning to in December.

  I’d been there two weeks, although in some ways it seemed like I’d only just arrived, but in others it seemed like months already. The work kept me busy, but my heart was back in Chicago with Abel. I was m
issing him so much more than I’d imagined I would. It was why when I had a free moment, I’d scroll through the pictures on my phone of us, to take the sting away. I was doing just that when Trinity popped her head inside my office.

  “Biscuits?” she asked. “They’re still warm.”

  “Come on in,” I said, setting my phone down.

  Trinity was everything Bridget claimed she would be. A spunky petite Southern belle with reddish-purple hair and a smile that could light up a room. She placed an open box of Callie’s Hot Little Biscuits on my desk and sat down opposite me.

  “Everything good?” she asked.

  I pulled a big, flaky biscuit from the box and brought it to my mouth. “Mm-hmm,” I said, taking a bite. “Except I’m going to gain ten pounds if you keep bringing me these.”

  She waved her hand around. “You are lovely no matter the size.”

  I pulled my planner close to me with my free hand and picked up a pen. In my list of things to do I wrote: “Send Callie Callie’s.”

  “What do you have for me?” I asked.

  She flipped open the turquoise-colored notebook she always had with her and retrieved a pen from behind her ear. “I called Lulu’s about the floral arrangement samples and told them it was unacceptable. We asked for white roses and hydrangeas, not blush or some sort of hint of yellow. She got a little snippy with me, but I told her if that was her attitude, I knew there were other florists that would be happy to do what we asked.”

  I nodded. “Okay. What else?” I asked, taking another bite.

  “We have a meeting at one after your standing Wednesday morning meeting,” she said with a wink. “The Fitzgerald wedding wanted to finalize a few odds and ends and shouldn’t be a big deal.”

  “In that case, why don’t you take care of that and touch base with me after.”

  She sat up straighter. “You sure?”

  “Absolutely. I’m here to make sure things are running smoothly and you see to that already. I have no worries.”

  “Perfect,” she said, writing in her notebook. “One more thing. That twit from the Chamber of Commerce called again. I told her I’d drop off the basket for the silent auction this afternoon to give you privacy during your meeting, and she was as happy as a dead pig in the sunshine. Bless her heart.”

  I laughed because this was what I liked about her. She got shit done professionally, but her Southern charm hid the shade she threw in a heavily disguised way.

  “All right. I’m taking one more bite of these, and then I have a call in with Bridget,” I said.

  “Okay,” she said, rising from her chair. As she went to leave, she started to close the door but leaned back to wink. “Enjoy your date.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  Wednesday at eleven a.m. were Abel’s and my Skype date. While we’d sneak in other times to do it, it was our standing time between the hellish hours I was working and the nights he was at WET.

  Our connection met and there he was, all sleepy eyed but sexy as hell looking.

  “Hey there, handsome,” I said.

  “Hi, beautiful. Let me sit back a minute,” he said, slouching down slightly and folding his hands behind his head. “And let me take in my hot-ass girlfriend. What’s shakin’?”

  “Not much. So busy I’m not sleeping much, and which is why I look like hell.”

  “Shut the hell up. You’re the sexiest thing in Charleston. No doubt.”

  “Well, blame Trinity if I come home a little fluffier than I left you. The food here is amazing. I can’t wait to take you around. Plus, we hit up the Belmont the other night. It made me think of you with the speakeasy vibe.”

  He tilted his head to the side and smirked. “You flirt with any cute bartenders?”

  “Nope. I only have eyes for one bartender and he’s in Chicago.”

  Our conversation, the familiar banter, continued for the next half hour. Our times like this didn’t replace being together physically, but it helped a lot.

  “Have you been writing?” I asked.

  “I have. Diving back into it wasn’t as hard as I thought it’d be, but it all feels right. I’d forgotten how much of a rush it was.”

  “That’s great.”

  “It also solidifies my crippling self-doubt when it comes to anything I write because the whole thing sucks so bad right now.”

  “Who cares? You’re getting something out of it. It seems part of what you should be doing. Keep doing it, handsome.”

  “I am. I promised, and a promise is a promise. For right now, though, I have to run. I promised Delilah a trip to Sprinkles.”

  I pouted. “I miss Sprinkles with you.”

  “We’ll have a lot of other birthdays together, beautiful,” he said, winking. “After I drop her off, I’m heading out to play a little poker.”

  “Again? Didn’t you just do that a couple times last week?”

  I didn’t like to question him on many things because it wasn’t my place. He had a mother doing almost everything for him and the rest of his family always keeping a watchful eye. However, I knew the gambling thing was a bit of an issue in the past so I wanted to touch base about it.

  “Yeah. But I’m bored as fuck without you around. So, if I’m not working or messing around with the writing thing, I don’t have a lot of desirable choices except if you count hanging around with Callie and Aaron, who talked for forty minutes the other night about tile for the new bathroom remodel. What the fuck do I care? There were over seven hundred swatches for the color white—no, not white. Beige. Or was it cream? I don’t know, but seven hundred fucking colors.”

  “Ha-ha,” I said. “Okay, no remodel talk for you tonight. They’d probably ask you about paint colors next.”

  “Cotton White was too white, but Choice Cream seemed to be a winner. Believe me, beautiful, it was hard enough for me not to make a joke about that color without Aaron asking if I thought Buffy Blue was too blue.”

  “God, I miss you,” I said.

  The line went quiet before he said, “I miss you crazy.”

  “How many days until you get here?”

  “Fifteen days, twelve hours, and twenty-seven minutes. Not that I’m counting.”

  “Well, we can handle that, right?”

  “I don’t know. I miss you, but my dick, beautiful. It misses you even more.”

  “Is that so? Maybe I could help.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Uh-huh. Ask me what I’m wearing under this skirt,” I said, standing up and turning around. “In fact, hold that thought. Let me go lock the door and close the blinds.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  That was the last time we spoke.

  I wished I’d known it would be.

  It would’ve given me something to hold on to, to remember, because all I could recall was what happened next.

  He missed our next Skype date. No call, no text, no him.

  Technical problems, I told myself. Something with work. Buried in his writing.

  Afternoon turned to evening.

  Something was wrong.

  I waited until I was back at the house I was renting in Charleston before calling Callie and Aaron. They didn’t know, either. Concern was hidden behind possible explanations, even after he didn’t show up for work. I heard it in their words, their fake soothing tones, though. They knew something was wrong, too.

  Night brought the day and back to night again. That was the way it always worked even when I wished so hard for it to because then I’d have to let the reality of how long he’d been gone settle into my bones.

  Something was wrong.

  I thought it would be the greatest relief of my life to hear his voice. But I was wrong.

  Almost thirty-six hours from when our Skype date was supposed to be, my phone buzzed, sitting next to my hand, on my desk. His name and photo popped up on the front, and I answered it before it was even done ringing.

  “What the hell happened to you?” I shrieked. “I’ve been o
ut of my mind worried.”

  “Sorry,” he said in a flat tone. “Crazy night.”

  I paused before responding because he had to give something more than that. A blasé attitude wasn’t going to cut it.

  “Which night?” I asked. “Last night or tonight, the night that is almost over?”

  “I said I was sorry.”

  His apology was flippant, at best, and it pissed me off. I never questioned him on his whereabouts, but when he was nowhere to be found for over a day, I was owed a little something more than a half-assed sorry.

  “Abel,” I said in a controlled tone. “You have to give me something here. I don’t need to know where you are every second of the day. I think you know me well enough to know that, but this is bordering on disrespectful and I don’t think that’s very fair.”

  He sighed loudly. “I tied one down pretty hard the other night. I didn’t get home until early morning. I slept most of the day and I fucked up. I know I did.”

  That wasn’t like him. Nothing about the phone call and him being missing was like him.

  “You’re saying you went out and got so wasted you lost an entire day?” I asked.

  “Something like that.”

  I didn’t know what to say or even how to feel. I was trying to get him to explain on his own, but he wasn’t having it. He wasn’t giving me a thing. I stood from my chair, and began pacing around my office, hearing the muffled sounds of Abel tapping something against a hard surface. Work had piled up on my desk after wasting so much time thinking he was hurt or something worse. It was why I was still at the office so late, something that hadn’t even registered to him.

  “I can’t come to visit,” he said. He paused, clearing his throat before continuing. “Some shit came up and I can’t make it work.”

  Dread pressed against my chest, and I could barely find my voice.

  “What kind of stuff?” I asked quietly.

  “Work and some stuff I need to figure out.”

  There was another brief pause, and the anger I’d been holding back while giving him the benefit of the doubt came flooding out.