Captured Secret (The Captured Series)

by Raynne, April

  I eat a bit of dinner and push around the rest as I drink my second glass of wine. My new friend never disappoints as I drink it down and erase the hangover and the sadness once again.

  We walk over to Bar 21 after dinner. It’s elegant and geared toward the young. “Stella, brace yourself, we are walking into your own personal heaven.”

  “What does that mean?” My confusion ends and I laugh as we walk over to his coworkers. There is about eight men all dressed in white button up shirts and ties. That’s what he meant by heaven. They are all super nice and I have a drink in my hand in less than five minutes. I make small talk and try to hold my own without Zoey on my side. It saddens me that she is not here and although it’s not been long, I feel like I’m losing her too. Losing her to Pierces friends and that includes, Ty. I’m sure she is hanging out with him at this very moment, probably twenty floors down and a block away, that’s how close we are to Ty’s flat. They are laughing, having some good food and I can’t help but be jealous and sad in the same breathe thinking they are not missing me.

  I down my new comfort and another drink’s placed in my hand. Max keeps me close and I scrunch my face as some jack ass asks him if he paid for me tonight. When he receives the hard punch in the arm from Max, he exclaims his apologies and blames my red dress. I sit and enjoy my wine buzz and listen to the guys talk shit to each other. I swear they are worse than women.

  Max is enjoying himself and when I can’t pretend to enjoy myself any longer I gulp down my glass and say my goodbyes. Maxem walks me down, finds me a cab and watches me pull away. We drive right down the main strip and make a right at the light that is so close to Ty’s flat I could throw a football at it. His Escalade is there and my body slumps from the flood of emotions I feel. I can’t help but wonder who’s on their knees tonight or is he out with my bestie collecting a one night stand. That thought makes me feel ill.

  The wine hits me like a ton of bricks. I’ve drunk wine a million times, you would think by now I would know that you feel fine one minute and the next your all sloppy drunk. The cabbie slides my debit card and I’m unsteady heading into our condo. It’s dark, empty and I make it to the couch and pass out.

  An twelve pack of Bud light cures my raging hangover from last night’s drinks with Max. The Sunday sun feels good on my skin as Samantha tells me all the details of her two nights with Kevin...or did she say Kelvin? We’ve been lounging by the pool all day and I’m stalling going back to my condo so I don’t have to see Zoey’s look of disappointment. I mean, a girl’s not allowed to pass out on the couch with her dress hiked up and your best friend and her boyfriend find you? Is it really that bad? Maybe I scared them because when I went into the bathroom to shower I scared myself. That reflection was like a horror flick. Whoa!

  This is our new routine. Sam talks and I consume alcohol. I really have no smiles. I have no conversation to add and she doesn’t seem to mind filling the void. We meant to eat today, but neither of us ordered anything. My Sunday is completed with me waltzing in very intoxicated, lying on the chaise and waking up at three a.m. and depositing myself in bed.

  Monday hurts, bottom line. I can’t drink this hangover away because I have to work. I try to focus, yet my mind is crazy wondering how Ty’s first weekend without me went. I really didn’t see Zoey much and I’m not sure I would ask if we do talk today. Sam picked me up this morning for work because I never picked up my car this weekend. Ironically, we end up at the same place to do happy hour so I can drive home. I don’t drink much because I have to drive.

  I pay my bills online and crawl into my bed for the nightly ‘I’m not intoxicated ceiling watching,’ where I ponder my pathetic life, and miss the hell out Ty and my friends.

  The rest of the week was like watching a horror film in slow motion. Me showering, me going into work for another twelve hour day, me drowning in some booze, me not getting enough sleep and repeat the process day in and day out. I did this constant working over a month ago and it felt normal, minus all the drinking. Now I miss the butterflies in my stomach and the perma-grin that my part time boss gave me. Although I didn’t think I could be sadder, I don’t see Zoey much which intensifies the feelings. I know subconsciously I am making this decision. I just don’t want to hear about her perfect life. You should win best fucking friend of the year award, Stella. I have a hard time every time I see her face not drilling her with question after question about Ty. She looked worked up on Thursday night, because had to go to dinner again and be Ty’s support.

  Friday is upon me and I think this is the happiest I have been in almost two weeks. I went in so early I thought I might actually die. But my hair is in need of highlights so I head to my girl in the late afternoon. She comments that I look like death and I tell her it’s her job to fix me with pretty hair. I usually talk a ton to her, but not today. I love that she gets it and doesn’t push me to tell her what is wrong. She walks away to clean up and allow my locks to process. I take a moment and listen to the voicemail that came in while she was foiling my hair. My heart speeds up as I hear a woman interested in Ty for a commercial gig. I write down all the info on the back of one of my hair dressers cards. I’m not sure what possess me…but I call back.

  “Hello, Is Ms. Stevenson’s available?” I ask in my most professional voice.

  “This is her. Is this Stella Avery?”

  “It is. I’m returning your call for, Ty Caulder.” My heart is thumping at just saying his name.

  “Yes, thank you for returning my call. My boss is Rich Wilcox. He’d like to get in touch with, Ty. He has some commercial work that he is interested in him doing as I said in my message. Would you be able to give Ty, Mr. Wilcox’s number? I was just instructed to get the ball rolling.” I tell her of course and then I take down all the necessary information. “Thank you for the prompt reply Ms. Avery. I got your number from a previous client. They weren’t sure if you were Mr. Caulder’s wife, girlfriend or maybe just an assistant. I would just like to be clear with Mr. Wilcox whom I left the message. You understand?”

  I say my most hated line ever. “Of course, I’m actually just his assistant. Thank you again and I’ll have him call Mr. Wilcox either way.”

  We hang up and I have an hour to decide how I am giving Ty this message. My hair is exactly as I wanted it yet I look really run down. I must sleep soon or I swear my eyes are going to sink into their sockets. My skin is dull, and it really shows next to the new bright hair. I get to my car, turn it on to cool it down, and pull up Ty on my phone to text him. Our last text hits me like a bulldozer. Stella please I need to talk to you. I need to know you are okay. I’m crushed. Sorry for everything. I start typing and then stop, put the phone down and think. I want to hear his voice so bad…I’m desperate. I should just text the info or send him an email. But, I pick the phone back up and hit his number out of my recent calls.

  His voice is low and sexy even though he is not trying for that. He knows it’s me calling, “Stella?”

  I try for cool and non-chalant. I don’t think I achieve it. “Hey. I…um…just got a call. Well it actually was a voicemail that was left on my phone. It was for you. I called them back and pretended to be your assistant. It’s for commercial work and I thought they would think you were more professional with an assistant. I’m sure you have a new assistant already and I just told the girl that I talked to that I would get you the message. She doesn’t want you to call her. She wants you to call her boss. She got my name from another client who thought we were married or I was your girlfriend. That was when I told her I was just your assistant. So I thought I would call you, give you the heads up and the information if you are interested in it or I can just text it to you. It sounds busy and loud wherever you are…so do you want that now or, I mean do you have a pen, probably not. I shoulda’ just text it to you, I just wanted you to know what was said in our conversation.” I know I just babbled ridiculously.

  “No… I… uh am actually glad you called. Hang on a minute. Le
t me get out of here.” I can hear the loud voices getting lower and lower as he walks out of wherever he is. “Sorry about that. Pierce is off this weekend and we are starting a little early waiting on, Zoey. So, I was hoping we could talk.”

  My heart sinks. I just don’t think I can do it. This was such a big mistake. Why did I call him? His voice just sparked up every emotion in my body. It shows me how much I miss everything about him. But he wants to talk…I just can’t take him crushing me again. Does he really need to reiterate to me that we are not together? I can’t hear ‘it’s not you it’s me’ again. I thought I was ready for this, but I’m not. I’m on the verge of seriously losing my mind from sadness, anger, loneliness and inadequacy. I just can’t take him letting me down again. It is really necessary? Why did I call? Oh God…can I just text next time? I panic, “I can’t right this minute, Ty. I’m right in the middle of getting my hair highlighted then I have some plans.” I thought plans would make me sound like it’s something exciting not staring at the ceiling or heading over to happy hour with Mandy.

  He’s silent on the other end then I hear him take in a deep breath. “Yeah, um, then when you get a minute, okay? It’s almost been two weeks, Stella. We really need to figure this out. We’ve both been avoiding us talking and …”

  I interrupt him and I reach deep down and grab everything I have. “Yeah, I know. I’ll talk to you soon and I am texting that info over.”

  I hear a big sigh in my ear. “Yeah…Okay...Thanks.” And I hang up. I look around inside myself and I find the biggest bag I’ve ever found in my body and start shoveling the emotions in. Fuck me this pile is the size of a football field. I’m mad. I’m sad. I’m worked up by the sound of his fucking voice. I MISS HIM! It hits me hard and makes my heart beat out of my chest. I don’t get the talking. I don’t get what he wants to say. Maybe this range of emotions would just end and there would be closure if I would have just listened. But I don’t want to hear it. I can’t…I can’t right now! My mind, body and soul can’t take anymore hurt. We were never anything… nor will we ever be! I don’t want to be the dead horse that takes the beating over and over. Not tonight. And to top it off, when I did text him he questioned the spelling of Ms. Stevenson’s name. He wanted to know if it was spelled Stevenson or Stephenson. I admitted I wasn’t sure. Great, now I’m even incompetent as an assistant. Can I do anything fucking right?