Junk

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Junk Page 15

by Komal Kant


  Maybe that was the point.

  “You are not any of those things. You are not junk,” she’d told me firmly, lowering her notepad. “You just need to stop feeding your anger.”

  Clearly, Dr. Langtry was underestimating my ex.

  “She knows exactly how to get to me.” Frustration edged into my voice. “How do I win against that?”

  “It’s not about winning.” Dr. Langtry said, running a hand over her grey-flecked hair. “It’s about finding your happy place, where her words and actions can’t touch you.”

  My happy place…

  It was the taste of salt in the air, the sun tickling my skin, the breeze ruffling my hair. It was the blueness of it, vast and expanding, and me, just a tiny figure on the edge of something far greater than me.

  Nothing else mattered.

  “Don’t you think it’s a bit unreasonable?” Iris asked, snapping me out of my calm. “You could’ve at least, I don’t know, parted with the condo in Malibu.”

  The condo in Malibu. It had been my first purchase, a symbol of my independence and success. After living in the Midwest for most of my life, a waterfront property was exactly what I’d needed.

  My happy place flew from my mind. Fuck trying to stay calm. I loved Iris, but she was demanding too much from me. “Listen, I didn’t do anything wrong. I deserve to keep all the things I worked hard for. This isn’t a fucking discussion, Riss.”

  “You’re not even willing to work with me on this?” She sounded exasperated. It was like she hadn’t heard a damn thing I’d said.

  “No, Riss, there isn’t anything to work on. I wanna keep the things that I got with my hard-earned money.”

  Harris was in the garage as I walked in, working on one of the cars that Pete had passed on to us. He glanced up at me in question, and I waved a hand as I stormed into a corner of the garage where he couldn’t see me.

  “You just made things a hell of a lot more difficult than they need to be,” Iris said. “You and I could have worked this out, but now-”

  “I don’t fucking care!” I yelled, staring around the workshop for something to smash.

  “You need to calm down.” Any semblance of pleasantry was gone between us. “I’ll talk to you when you’re in a better mood, okay?”

  “It’s a divorce, Riss. There isn’t a better time.” My voice broke, giving way to the years of anguish and stress I’d been keeping in.

  The room seemed to blur around me, and I gripped the edge of the bench to regain my balance.

  Divorce. The word we never dared to utter. It was real. It was happening.

  “I know, babe.” Iris must have heard my distress because her voice softened. “We can talk more about it later. I love you, okay?”

  “Love you, too,” I repeated, but the words were forced today.

  Iris hung up, but I continued to hold the phone to my ear, frozen, unable to move and face my own reality.

  It was incredible—incredible how one woman could so utterly ruin my entire life as I stood by watching, incapable of doing anything except letting it happen.

  A spectator of my own demise.

  “MY BABY’S BACK!” MOM GREETED me with a huge hug the second I stepped into my grandmother’s house.

  “Hey, Mom,” I said half-heartedly, slipping off her crocs and lining them against the wall.

  It took me a second to notice the blue and white, polka dot dress she was wearing that clashed violently with her vivid, peach sweater. The items were probably one of her thrift shop discoveries that she couldn’t bear to walk away from.

  It was fittingly perfect on her. Her personality was all peaches and polka dots—cute and a little weird.

  “What’s wrong, babe?” she asked, losing the enthusiasm once she noticed my lackluster response.

  “Just tired,” I lied, running a hand through my unruly hair. “And I need a shower.”

  “Okay.” There was a frown in her voice as she studied me with squinted eyes. “How did everything go with the trip? Did you get the parts for your car?”

  I nodded, squeezing my eyes shut. A slow, throbbing was building up in my head. I needed a moment alone.

  “I’m going to shower,” I repeated, already heading up the stairs. “I’ll be down in a bit, okay?”

  “Okay, we’re in the kitchen. I’m fixing lunch,” Mom’s worried voice followed me up the stairs, as I passed the framed pictures lining the walls.

  I wanted to answer, but I was so exhausted from the last thirty-six hours that I honestly wasn’t in the mood to dive into an in-depth conversation with anyone.

  Besides, I did need a shower to wash off Wade. His scent was all over my skin and I was desperate to scrub him away.

  We fucked, Blair. It didn’t mean anything.

  The cold words came back to me, and a lump rose in my throat as I stepped into the hot, running water.

  Stupid.

  Stupid.

  I was so stupid.

  Tears stung my eyes like bees. It did mean something. I hated him for it. I hated me for it more. I knew better.

  Angry at myself for falling apart like this, I let the water wash them off my face.

  I had always known that one day I would finally feel comfortable enough to be with someone again, but I hadn’t expected it to be a one-night stand with a guy who could barely look me in the eye the next morning.

  Despite the hot water, I shivered.

  What kind of a man did that?

  What kind of man was I attracted to?

  One who was even more broken than I was. One who had something to hide. His words came back to me.

  I fall in love with the wrong people.

  My investigative skills tingled. It was a mystery I would normally have jumped to solve. But I wasn’t that person anymore. My reporter days were much mellower now, and I couldn’t go back to being that ruthless, manipulative person again.

  Crushed metal and plumes of smoke. But he wasn’t dead, he wasn’t dead. A limp body crawled out, small against the devastation around him.

  A man on the edge of death—and I had put him there.

  I snapped back from the memory. I wasn’t that woman anymore. I had changed. Whatever my past mistakes had been, they didn’t define me.

  Finally satisfied that all remnants of Wade were gone, I stepped out of the shower and dried off before getting dressed.

  Strands of cold, wet hair grazed my cheek as I headed downstairs, and I decided to sit out on the front porch and let the sun dry it.

  However, I should’ve known my mom wouldn’t let me slip out that easily. She was already at the foot of the stairs, waiting for me with the same concern on her kind face.

  “Are you hungry, Bee?” she asked, reaching out to grasp my hand in hers. “I have some sandwiches made up on the kitchen table.”

  Shaking my head, I avoided making eye contact with her. “Not right now. I’m going to dry my hair outside.”

  “Okay,” she said, the usual bubbliness gone from her tone. “Is everything okay, baby? You seem…unhappier than usual.”

  That almost made me laugh out loud. It was nice to know that even my mom thought I was a miserable human on a regular day.

  “I’m fine, Mom, honestly,” I said with a forced grin to appease her. “I’ll be inside soon.”

  Not wanting to get dragged into further conversation as to why I was “I was unhappier than usual”, I headed out the front door and onto the front porch and plopped down on the bench, stretching my legs out in front of me.

  Closing my eyes, I let my mind drift off onto a different tangent, cherishing the peace around me. The sun was warm against my skin, and the sounds around me were nothing but the caws of some birds I couldn’t identify to save my life.

  It was kind of nice not being surrounded by rush hour traffic and people too busy with their lives to care about how your day was. If nothing else, I would miss this moment in serenity, soaking in the sun, letting my mind relax.

  “Your aura i
s like a deflated smile.” I’d been so deep in meditation, I hadn’t heard the front door swing open.

  My brother now stood beside me, dark eyes scrutinizing me with a knowing glance. He wore a Slipknot tank top and baggy, cotton pants that he’d picked up somewhere in a tiny Nepalese village. It was such an ironic contrast that it actually made me smile.

  “Maybe you’re just looking at my face,” was my dry retort.

  “I’m also looking at your neck,” Drew said, taking a seat beside me.

  What a weird thing to say. Why would he-?

  Crap.

  Realizing that despite washing Wade off me, the hickey was something that didn’t come off so easily.

  Panicking a little, I swiped my hair onto my shoulder so the hickey wouldn’t be visible anymore.

  Burning hot with embarrassment, I stared down at the steps. “I have nothing to say about that.”

  “And I have nothing to ask,” he replied in a faraway tone, looking off into the distance. I thought this was where our conversation ended, but no, the mortification ensued. “I know it has something to do with Wade.”

  When I glanced back at him, he was still staring into the distance, lost in his own thoughts. My brother was normally a pain-in-my-ass, but today he was that sincere, reflective version of himself that had decided to embark on a spiritual pilgrimage.

  “What’s wrong, Drew?” I asked, elbowing him gently.

  “Just thinking,” he said in a wistful tone, “about how we can run into the most unexpected people in the most unexpected places.”

  I could relate to that, but I knew my brother’s words were more than just about Wade and me. It was dawning on me that he was building a connection with Delilah, just like I was building one with Wade. Maybe his feelings for her went further than infatuation.

  “Well, maybe it was fated,” I started, slinging an arm over his shoulder and giving him a squeeze. “Like that time you went away to soccer camp and I moved into your room because it was bigger than mine.”

  Drew snorted at that, the humor returning to his face. “You’re the worst.”

  “Yeah, but you love me,” I teased.

  “Only because my teachings say I must,” he responded with an obnoxious smile.

  As I rolled my eyes and glanced back out across the property, I noticed an unfamiliar, silver truck making its way up the bumpy road that led to my grandmother’s property, dust flying out from under its wheels.

  It could’ve been anyone, honestly. Everyone in this town owned a truck. It wasn’t until the truck drew closer that I recognized Michelle Welsecky was the driver and that Delilah was in the passenger seat beside her.

  Drew came to the exact same conclusion from beside me, and sprang up, bouncing on the balls of his feet as we watched the truck pull into the dusty driveway.

  “Hey, darlins,” Michelle said, hopping out and striding towards us. She wore plain denim jeans and a blue flannel shirt. Maybe flannel ran in the family. “Working hard I see.”

  Guilt rushed through me. I should be helping my mom more. After all, I’d been gone for almost two days.

  “Uh, yeah, I just got back,” I told her, wondering why I was always so intimidated by her.

  “Right. Just like my son. You wouldn’t have happened to be with him this whole time, would ya?” she asked, hawk-like scrutiny flashing in her blue eyes as she headed up the front steps

  “You were with my brother?” Delilah asked, quick on her mother’s heels. Scratch that flannel bit. Delilah wore white shorts that showed off her long, golden legs and a black t-shirt that had the unmistakable trace of dog hair on it.

  No doubt she’d been watching Achilles while Wade had been gone.

  “Oh, um.” I flushed under all the questions. “Yeah, we went to Oak City to get parts for my car.”

  Even though I hadn’t known Michelle for very long, I was pretty sure she wasn’t someone who was often surprised. So, when her mouth dropped open and her eyebrows shot up, I knew my answer was the last thing she’d expected to hear.

  “You’re tellin’ me that somehow you convinced my stubborn ass son to drive you three hours to pick up parts for your car?” She stepped closer to look me over. “How’d you manage that?”

  “I told him I wouldn’t leave him alone,” I answered tentatively. “That I’d follow him around until he couldn’t stand it.”

  Michelle’s face was blank as she stared at me. She turned to Delilah, who looked just as stunned as she did. Then, without warning, Michelle threw back her long, dark ponytail and burst into laughter.

  Drew and I gave each other a sideways look. Somehow, I had managed to break through Michelle’s tough exterior without even meaning to.

  “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time,” she said, her eyes glinting with tears of laughter. “I’ll have to try that on him.”

  “Maybe you can use your tactics to convince him to go to the charity gala then,” Delilah quipped, throwing Drew a grin which made him turn eggplant purple.

  “The charity gala?” Drew stammered, finding his voice.

  “Yep, my parents host one every year,” Delilah said, holding up the gold embossed envelope in her hand. “Everyone gets dressed up, gets drunk, ruins their overpriced outfits by jumping in the pool, oh, and donates money for the poorer families in the community.”

  That was a nice way for the Welseckys to spend their money. After all, how many fountains could one family own before they decided to broaden their horizons?

  “Lila, Drew, why don’t you two head inside and give this to Lisa? I need to speak to Blair for a moment,” Michelle said in a way that managed to be commanding without being rude.

  Oh, crap. Maybe I hadn’t broken through her tough exterior at all.

  “Okay, sure,” Delilah said, shooting her mom a look of curiosity before following my flustered brother up the steps and into the house.

  Once the front door swung shut behind them, Michelle turned her attention back to me.

  “So, how was your road trip with my son?” Unlike my own mom, who would’ve wiggled her brows at me, Michelle’s expression was stoic, much like her reclusive son’s would’ve been.

  The flood of memories came crashing back. Our time at the lake. The drinks at the bar. Our night together. His eyes piercing mine. His body pounding against me, firm and hard. The way he looked at me.

  Feelings of hurt and rejection burned bitter inside of me at the aftermath of that night. “It was fine.”

  Apparently, I was a terrible liar, because Michelle arched a brow at me and said, “You don’t look fine.”

  “Well, Wade isn’t exactly the epitome of a warm hug,” I said, my tone sour.

  Michelle didn’t say anything for the longest time. The planes of her face were frozen, and I was too afraid to break the silence in case I’d offended her.

  Wade had nothing on her poker face.

  “Don’t hold your breath waiting for that warm hug,” she finally said, not in an unkind way. “Wade’s fighting a lot of demons the rest of us don’t have a clue about. Ain’t no man that can come back from Hell that easy.”

  “From Hell?” I wondered out loud. “Who is he? The damn devil?”

  Michelle shook her head, her expression grim. “No, but he was with the devil herself and a man can only heal so much after something so toxic. These things take time and most people don’t have time to wait around.” She gave me a meaningful look that made me fidget self-consciously.

  Clearly, she didn’t think I had any intention of waiting around for her son, but you couldn’t blame me for my reluctance to commit.

  “I see,” was all I said.

  Despite my lack of words, my head was a blizzard of thoughts. Michelle had obviously guessed something was going on with Wade and me. She could also tell that whatever it was, wasn’t going so well. She was on the money.

  “I’m heading inside to say hi to your mom,” Michelle told me, realizing I wasn’t going to elaborate. “Thin
k about what I said.” She gave me a final, probing look before heading up the porch steps.

  Just as she pushed open the door and stepped inside, my phone went off in my pocket.

  It was a text from Cole.

  Are you doing anything tonight?

  I typed back quickly.

  No

  A second passed before Cole texted back.

  Wanna grab a drink?

  Heck yeah, I did. I liked to think that Cole and I had rekindled a part of our childhood friendship and that he was someone I could hang out with without worrying about any weird feelings.

  Besides, a night out with a friend might just be the best way to get Wade Welsecky out of my brain.

  The loud slamming of my front door could only belong to a woman who was comfortable barging into my house.

  My mom or Delilah.

  I knew I’d texted Delilah that I was back, but after the terse phone call with Iris, I’d fallen into a mental coma I couldn’t snap out of. My dragging feet had brought me to my room, where I currently lay staring up at the monotone, beige ceiling. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since I’d gotten home.

  Harris was working away in the shop as usual, while the parts I’d gotten for a certain woman’s car lay neglected in the bed of my truck. I would get to it…if only I could break out of this mental spell…

  A few seconds later, a huge, dark grey blur burst into my bedroom and jumped onto the bed and onto me with so much force that the air was knocked out of me.

  “Hey, buddy!” I greeted Achilles, recovering quickly at the sight of my best friend.

  That set him off, and he started licked every inch of my face with his hot tongue as though he hadn’t seen me in months.

  “That’s enough,” I managed to tell him in a smothered voice.

  Now panting heavily, Achilles turned around and plopped his big butt down on my chest so that his thick tail whipped me in the face as he wagged excitedly.

  “Alright, dude, I’m getting up,” I told him with a grin, which only got me whipped in the face again.

  Once I managed to get my behemoth dog off me, I headed out of my small room, past the table of divorce papers, with Achilles at my heels. Upon entering the living area, I found my mom with her nose stuck in her fridge.

 

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