Exposed to You (Overexposed)

by Andra Lake

  “Of course.” I closed my eyes briefly. This was my fault. I’d let this happen. By giving him ultimate control over me, I’d let him believe I was his property.

  “I wanted to take care of you. To make sure you’re safe.”

  “That’s not the way to do it.” I leaned back against the cement wall, putting my hands behind me. “This past week has been amazing and you’re very important to me.”

  His eyes began to move back and forth as he anticipated what I was going to say next.

  “But I have to look out for me right now. I finally got a job, Dallon. I’m figuring out what I want to do and I can’t let anything come between that.” I took a deep breath. “Even you.”

  “What are you saying?”

  The sudden fear in his eyes threw me, and I looked down at my feet. I couldn’t believe I was actually saying these words.

  “I’m protecting my job. You embarrassed me today, Dallon, and I don’t want to lose it.”

  “Bullshit,” he said, stepping rapidly toward me so that he was only a foot away, looking down at me with wild eyes. “You aren’t afraid of that. You’re afraid because I freaked out after seeing Ruri and said a bunch of stupid shit.”

  My chin shook a little. “Things you might have meant.”

  “I screwed up, Amy. I felt guilty about Ruri and blamed myself for the things she did next.”

  “You’re in love with her.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “But you care about her.”

  “Yes, because she was an important person in my life, and I’m human.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek and looked down.

  He slammed a palm against the wall above my head, leaned over me. “But you’re the one I yearn for, Amy. I’m never happier than when I’m with you. You have me completely—mind, body and soul.”

  My heart ached; I wanted so desperately to believe him. |You made me feel ashamed, Dallon. Of the things I’ve done.”

  “Don’t. Don’t ever feel ashamed about who you are.” He took my face in both hands, his eyes searching mine. “Everything you’ve revealed about yourself makes me love you even more.”

  Love. There it was again, but could I believe him?

  “You think you have to be someone you’re not. You don’t have to pretend with me, Amy.”

  “I’m not pretending,” I responded, but my voice shook.

  “Then say you forgive me. Because I am sorry, Amy—I’m so sorry I made you doubt how I feel about you.”

  When I pulled my face away, he let me, but the hurt was evident in his eyes. Then he scowled. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth about Michael?”

  My breath caught in my throat. “What are you talking about?”

  “You didn’t tell me you have a restraining order against him. What did he do, Amy? And why did you keep it from me? I’m assuming it was more than cheating on you.”

  I glared and tried to step around him, but he placed his other hand on the wall, caging me in.

  “You said me confiding in you is important. Shouldn’t it go both ways?”

  “Let me go, Dallon.”

  His jaw tightened. “Answer my question.”

  “I didn’t tell you because I don’t really want to talk about him. Not with anybody and definitely not with my new boyfriend. How did you even find that out?”

  “I have a friend that’s a cop.”

  “Bullshit,” I said, turning it around on him. “You did more sleuthing than that.”

  A muscle in his cheek twitched, betraying him, but he didn’t respond. I had a sick feeling in my stomach, like we’d been playing a game the whole time and he was the only one who’d known the rules.

  “How long have you known?”

  His eyes bore into mine, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if he’d answer. “I looked into you the weekend you turned down my job,” he said eventually.

  “Interesting.” I shook my head angrily. “You want to know the reason I have a restraining order on Michael? Because he was a stalker, Dallon. That’s the official story, anyway. Partner rape is harder to prove.”

  Dallon’s face contorted. He staggered backward, swaying slightly on the spot as if unsure what to do next. His eyes looking me up and down as his jaw clenched and unclenched. “Christ, Amy. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I closed my eyes to shut him out. “I’m moving out. I’ll stay with Sam until I find a place. I have money now.”

  “You don’t mean that.” His voice was a pained whisper.

  “I can’t give you what you need.”

  “Yes, you can.” He reached out and caressed my cheek, and I shivered at his touch. The electricity between us was palpable even now.

  “You already have. What’s more, you wanted it too. Maybe we’re both messed up, but we belong together.”

  I swallowed hard. It had only been a week, but I was in love with him—I couldn’t deny it any longer. And now I knew I had to end it. Again I was teetering on the edge of the precipice, but this time if I gave in, it would be the end of me.

  “Admit it. Admit that like me, you were the happiest you’ve ever been this weekend. Please.”

  I felt my resolve breaking, the desire to admit that yes, the weekend had been amazing and it had made me realize just how in love with him—and how vulnerable—I really was.

  I would have to hit him where it hurt.

  “I don’t need another stalker boyfriend.”

  His hand stilled and then dropped away.

  “Is that how you see me?” I could hear the anguish in his voice. He was quiet for a moment before adding more quietly, “Of course you do. I’ve never tried to hide my true self from you.”

  And I was rejecting him for it. The knowledge pierced my heart. Behind my lids, my eyes filled with tears, but whether they were due to sadness or anger, I wasn’t sure, as suddenly the memories of everything I’d done and the subsequent way he’d treated me came rushing forth.

  “I gave myself to you, and you lost respect for me. I don’t mean anything to you except a warm body to fuck.”

  His sharp intake of breath made me shut my eyes tighter. My breathing was rapid, terrified by how he’d react.

  “That’s what you really think?”

  Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “And I don’t want to end up like Ruri, a girl you control and use until you’re done with her.”

  He was deadly silent now, and I knew I’d wounded him. I’d hit my mark. I hadn’t meant to be so cruel and I regretted my words instantly—but there was no taking them back. Moments passed before he spoke again. I didn’t dare open my eyes for fear of giving in; seeing him in pain would kill me.

  “So that’s it then.” His tone was bitter.

  I bit my lip and nodded. The electric feeling left, as if a light switch had been turned off. A few seconds later I heard his footsteps going down the stairwell, and I opened my eyes to find I was alone.

  I’d left Dallon King, and he’d left me.

  I slid down the wall and cried.

  ***

  Sam found me, claiming that my sobs had carried down the hall. I was seconds away from curling up in the fetal position on the cool cement when the door to the stairwell opened, and she rushed in.

  The pain was indescribable. Like I’d lost part of myself. Like I’d bared my heart and soul, only to lose them both.

  Back in her apartment, Luke wrapped me in a blanket and Sam made a pot of herbal tea to calm my nerves. I sat staring forward, not focusing on anything in particular, while the realization of what I’d done sunk in.

  Sam’s face appeared as a blur in front of me as she passed me a steaming mug of tea. “It will get better,” she promised.

  This is grief, I thought. This is what it feels like to actually love someone and lose them.

  I had my freedom now, and I’d never felt more alone. As I moved through my job the next day, I felt empty, like I’d been emptied out. I smiled and managed to carry on conversations, but
he was always at the back of my mind.

  I wondered what he was doing. I wondered how he was doing. I wondered if thoughts of us were tormenting him the way they were tormenting me.

  I’d deleted his voicemails without listening to them, but now I regretted it, desperate to hear his voice again. I checked my phone every five minutes. Whereas before I could go days without using my phone, now I was tethered to it, addicted.

  Removed from the intensity of our fight, I was no longer focused on Dallon’s control issues and instead remembered all the wonderful things he’d done for me, from helping me apply for jobs to making sure I was taking care of myself and safe. We’d both hurt each other, both said terrible things we could never take back, but I regretted the Ruri comment the most—especially after what he’d told me about ending up in hospital. I was dying to tell him but was too afraid he’d turn me away. I would deserve it, after all.

  Then as the days went by, it became clearer and clearer that Dallon was no longer interested in me, and I began to fear the worst: that I really had just been another Ruri, a girl to enjoy for a time before moving on.

  The idea made me want to throw up.

  “We need to get your things,” Sam said one night over dinner.

  I winced at the reminder. Luckily I had some good news. “Speaking of that, I think I found a place to live. I was chatting with Tristan on Facebook and he said they need a roommate.”

  Tristan was a buddy from University. We’d met him in residence during our first year, and he currently lived with Lucy, a free-spirited artist. Living with them would be a blast, and they lived on the Upper West Side. Tristan’s family was fairly wealthy.

  “That’s awesome,” Luke said, knocking his beer against mine. “That will be awesome.”

  “I’m excited… It’ll be like returning to Uni.” I was looking forward to just having fun again—no worrying about relationships or power dynamics.

  “I’m a little jealous that you’ll all be partying together like old times,” Sam sighed, and then rushed to add, “But living with Luke is the best.”

  Luke snorted and pulled out his cellphone, turning his attention to me. “I’ll call Dallon,” he offered. “We can pick your things up tonight. Get it over with.”

  “I don’t want to see him.” I can’t see him.

  “You don’t have that much stuff; you can wait in the car.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked, my eyes tearing up with gratitude. Lately I cried about pretty much everything.

  “Of course. That’s what friends are for.” Sam put her hand over mine as Luke retreated into their bedroom to call Dallon. He emerged a minute later.

  “He said we could pick it up tonight. He’ll get everything ready now.”

  Pain clenched my stomach. He was going to pack my bags. And right this moment. What a change from the man who’d demanded I move in with him, who had called my landlord and negotiated me out of my lease.

  “I guess I should give him this back too,” I said, placing my phone on the table. At least I would no longer have the temptation to check it for any indication he might still care for me.

  “Is there anything on here you don’t want him to see?” Sam asked, ever the lawyer.

  I shook my head.

  “Okay.” She put it in her bag. “Let’s do this.”

  Sam and Luke made small talk as we drove, trying to keep my mind off things. Not the first time in my life, I felt thankful that I’d met both Sam and Luke, my best friends that would protect me no matter what.

  When we were a block from the building, Luke called Dallon and my ears strained, desperate to hear their conversation. I wanted to hear his voice. I needed to hear that this situation was tearing him up inside.

  Luke entered the code Dallon had given him, and we drove into the bowels of his building, parked in a visitor stall.

  “Here,” I said, handing Luke my access hard. “You’ll need this use the elevator from down here. Swipe it and then press the button for his floor.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” he asked, and I winced at the pity I saw in his eyes.

  “Positive.”

  Sam leaned over the seat and hugged me before getting out. “Remember you broke up with him.”

  I smiled weakly in response, knowing she was trying to take away some of the pain, but that detail felt so trivial. Childish. My heart was still bleeding.

  As soon as the door slammed closed, I put my feet up between the two front seats and rested my forehead on my knees, blocking out all light. I didn’t cry—maybe I was finally all out of tears. I just wanted this whole ordeal to be over.

  Had he expected me to go up with them? Would he be disappointed not to see me, or relieved? Most likely he hated me now and had already moved on.

  The back of the SUV opened, breaking into my thoughts, and I spun around in my seat as Sam placed my second suitcase and my portfolio into the trunk.

  “Stay inside,” she said in warning.

  I immediately glanced toward the elevator and saw Luke and Dallon standing by the storage units. My breath caught; Dallon looked more gorgeous than I’d remembered, and I was still undeniably, infuriatingly attracted to him. His hair was wet like he’d recently had a shower and he was wearing his tight, grey jeans, black V-neck shirt and flip-flops. I watched as he said something to Luke, hands in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels. He either wasn’t aware I was in the car or didn’t care because he didn’t look over, and his posture seemed cool and detached, like he couldn’t care less what was happening.

  Worse, Luke was holding my easel. I closed my eyes against the memory of the studio Dallon had put together for me only a week ago.

  Sam entered the vehicle on the side facing away from them, slid onto the seat beside me. “He tried to refuse your phone. I had to leave it in the hallway by the elevator. He’ll find it when he goes back up.”

  “Thanks,” I said in a small voice.

  “He said he put your bed in storage down here.”

  I nodded. “I forgot all about it.”

  We were both watching Dallon and Luke’s interaction. As if sensing our eyes on him, Dallon glanced over, and his brow furrowed as if he could see me through the tinted windows. I shrunk lower in my seat.

  Luke said something and held his hand up to Dallon before making his way over, carrying the easel in one hand and a painting in the other. Dallon’s eyes widened. He hesitated and then shook his head. Grabbing the other painting leaning against the wall, he followed determinedly.

  Fear gripped me. He was going to come right up to the SUV.

  Sam quickly jumped out, intercepting Dallon just before he got there. I watched his eyes narrow as he listened to what she was saying, and then his head snapped up as realization dawned.

  He knew I didn’t want to see him.

  I couldn’t breathe. He was looking right at me. Though I knew he couldn’t see in, I felt his pain and judgment all the same, and my heart was in my throat.

  Then his face shuttered and he handed Sam the painting, turned away.

  ***

  “What did you decide to do about the bed?” Sam asked Luke as we pulled out of the parking area.

  Luke was silent, his hands clenching the wheel. Sam kept glancing over at him as if trying to telepathically find out what was wrong.

  “I made a mistake,” he said eventually. “I’m sorry, Amy.”

  “It’s okay,” I said quickly. I didn’t want him to feel guilty for anything, especially after everything they’d done for me.

  No one said anything, and Luke sighed, glancing at Sam. “After you left us, he seemed so… distraught. He wasn’t acting like the guy upstairs.” Luke looked in the rearview mirror, meeting my eyes. “I told him to stay there and I guess he realized you were in the car.”

  “It’s okay, I said again, closing my eyes against the memory. I’d hurt him again.

  “I wasn’t thinking. Right before that he said he wanted to do something for yo
u. We couldn’t fit the bed in the car, so he said he’d pay for movers.”

  “You gave him her address,” Sam said softly.

  “It just kind of came out.”

  “Dallon has that effect on people,” I said quietly, and then rushed to add, “Don’t worry, he’ll just send my bed and that’s it.”

  The answering silence was heavy. Both Sam and Luke knew what I’d gone through with Michael. Now Luke was kicking himself for potentially putting me at risk again.

  “Dallon isn’t like Michael, don’t worry,” I repeated. “I haven’t even heard from him since we broke up. He just feels like he has to do the right thing by paying for movers. Trust me.”

  I was trying to convince them, sure, but I also believed that Dallon had moved on. Or at least, I had until I’d seen the way he’d looked moments before. I was pretty sure I would carry his hurt expression into my dreams that night.

  Back in Sam and Luke’s study, I opened the second suitcase to find my laptop sitting on the top of my clothes. Holding my breath, I ran my fingers along its metallic surface, remembering what Sam had said about Dallon not wanting me to return my phone. Apparently he’d wanted me to keep the laptop, too.

  Tears welled in my eyes and I switched it on as if on auto-pilot. It was all I had left of him. Even the MAC startup sound reminded me of him, and I wiped the tears off my cheeks with the back of my hand as my desktop appeared.

  I froze. Dallon had left me a message.

  In the middle of the desktop was a new document titled with my name. I blinked a few times, as if it was a hallucination of my exhausted mind. Then I clicked on it. My hand was so shaky, it took multiple attempts to finally open it.

  At the top of the document was a picture: the one he’d had taken of us in Savannah. In it I was beaming at the camera, but Dallon was looking down at me. His expression in that picture said more than his words ever could.

  Dallon King was in love with me.

  I scrolled down and read his letter.

  My Amy,

  These past few days apart have been utter torment. Many times I considered contacting you—the only thing stopping me was fear you would think I’m a stalker. I want you to come back to me, but I want it to be on your own terms.