by DD Prince
She already admitted she got the key from my mother.
“Your mother was at the house the other day when I got home and told me she wanted to talk to me about you. I told her I can’t stop thinking about you and she was so happy. She happened to have a key and she handed it to me. She told me you miss me, too.” She shrugged as she said this.
“She lied. I do not talk to my mother about you. I don’t even fuckin’ think about you, bitch.”
Why Audra has a spare, I don’t know. She probably made some stupid excuse to my father’s admin and is now trying to use Sienna to get to me since shit with Bella backfired. How Sienna got past the security desk, I also don’t know, but plan to make my displeasure known.
Sienna was my first girlfriend. Fourteen years old and we were one another’s firsts. It burnt out after a few months, but we started up again a few years ago and it was serious there for a while. Very serious. Until she proved that she’s a typical faithless rich bitch with an agenda.
“I…”
“Change outta my fucking shirt or I’ll throw you out wearin’ it if need be.”
She has the grace to look contrite, though I know it’s an act, then she moves to the powder room by the terrace door.
I need a drink. There’s a bottle of bourbon on the counter, a drink poured. Sienna brought it and poured it, no doubt. I ain’t drinking from the glass she poured, do not trust that bitch not to roofie me and steal my sperm or some shit, so I pour a fresh glass and dump the one sitting there.
I light a cigarette.
She’s back, wearing a red body-hugging dress that’s low cut in the back. Another game. She knows I’ve got a thing for back cleavage.
No woman since her has gotten more insight than necessary about me. Women don’t need to know my favorite color on them, that I dig back cleavage and sky-high sexy shoes. That I get off on them wearing my clothes after we fuck.
“Thought you could come in here and get a rise outta me by wearin’ my shirt like the good ole days. Those days’re done, bitch. Now, fuckin’ go.” I’m yelling.
“Listen for a minute!” she yells back.
“Sienna…” I growl.
“Aid,” she whines and puts her hands over her eyes for dramatic effect. She’s always been good at the drama.
Taught me what to watch for, that’s one thing I got outta that relationship, at least.
She lets out a big sigh. “I can’t move on with my life. It’s like you and I left things unfinished. I need to see if we should’ve gone somewhere so I’ll know… so we either continue or it’s finally finished. Let’s do this. For real. Figure out if we’re real or we get closure. One or the other.”
I take a big haul off the cigarette and blow it in her face. She snatches it outta my hand and puts it in the sink and blasts water on it. She hated my smoking when we were together. This is why I blew it in her face.
“Take me to bed, Aid,” she whispers huskily.
I sit on a barstool at the breakfast bar, put my head down and rest my arms on my legs, studying my shoes. I don’t need this shit right now. This bitch pretending she’s here for any other reason beyond her own agenda.
She comes to me and puts her hand on my face. I shrug her off.
“Do not touch me,” I tell her.
She stands there a minute, then walks to the hall and closes the doors, separating us from the hallway. I don’t know if Carly’s here or what. Sienna asked who she was, so I know she’s been here. Maybe she went down to the girls’ apartment to hide out from this bitch. More likely that she’s in her room and that’s why Sienna has shut the doors. Sienna is an absolute mean girl. We attended the same private school and she was the epitome of a mean girl. I wonder what the fuck she said to Carly.
I don’t know why I’m wondering about Carly at a time like this.
“Aiden, please. Let’s go to your room and talk.”
“Go, Sienna. Before I throw you out.”
Not a single woman has been in my bed since this bitch fucked me over. I never take them to my bed since this cunt.
“But, I…”
I shrug her off. “You cheated. You lied. You and I are done.”
“Who we are, we’re above that monogamy bullshit. You can’t tell me you only had eyes for me while we were together.”
“Get out,” I say.
“You know why I did what I did. My father needed me to schmooze that senator’s son. I had no feelings for him…”
“Doesn’t matter. Don’t care. Go.”
“But---”
“Get the fuck out!” I shout.
She starts with the tears. She grabs her designer bag and leaves. I lock the door and go to my room, slamming the door.
17
CARLY
I hear a door slam so loud it makes me jump.
I sit, waiting, ears peeled. Then, no other noise.
Before I go to bed and put an end to this craptastic day, one thing is going to go my way. It might not be fun, but I’m about to deal with Jon, Caitlin, and Steph. On the bus ride home, I toyed with the idea of doing what I’m about to do, but my convo with my Mom sealed it for me. Tomorrow, I wanna wake up with no baggage weighing on me so I can focus on rocking my job. This means I need to deal with the three stooges. Now. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. End this bad day with something good. Closure.
First: Caitlin.
I text her.
“As you probably heard, I relocated. I’m in California. The apartment needs to be vacant by the end of the month. I can’t help you any longer, Cait. I’m sorry but I have to step back. Please get into rehab. Get some help. I have to take the same stand as Mom and Dad. You screwed me with my credit card and you’re lucky I’ve decided to pay it rather than report it to the cops. I don’t believe you when you say you didn’t pawn our G’s jewelry. I love you, but you make me sad. I am suddenly single, suddenly without a best friend, and my sister has hurt me just too many times. I have to take care of me. Take care of you & pls get help. I left you pamphlets for rehab. It’s up to you now. I can’t pay your cell bill again this month, so you’re on your own after the 30th. I hope you find your way. I pray for you & always always want the best for you.”
I hesitate before hitting send.
No. Do it.
I do it.
There; done.
I then block her number.
I take in a big breath through my nose and slowly let it out through my teeth, cheeks puffed.
Next… Stephanie Dearest.
I open the inbox message from her on my Facebook app and re-read her last message telling me she wants to explain. There’s another message below it.
“I’m a horrible bitch. I am just a selfish judgmental projecting cow. Please please please know how shitty I feel that you’ve seen how ugly I actually am inside. I see myself through your eyes right now. I heard you got a new job in Cali. I’m happy & jelly. I don’t know why the shit that comes out of my mouth is so toxic sometimes. I’m going to work on that. You didn’t deserve what I said. I don’t deserve a bff like you. I hope that even though that’s true, that you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me. I’m so sad I don’t get to be excited for the new life you’ve got. But honestly, I’m too jealous and toxic right now so I wouldn’t be any good for you anyway. I’d just be over here being green with envy. I deserve as many bad things as you can say about me. And it even makes me mad that you probably won’t say bad things about me. You’re a much better person than I am. I hope when your work contract is over, we can meet for coffee and talk, Carly Dearest. You’re always going to be my Carly Dearest. Your stupid Stephanie un-dearest. Xo”
The dots tell me she’s typing a new message. She must’ve seen my read receipt and now she’s typing.
I wait until it stops. It takes a while. I feel bad for about half a second, but no. This is classic Steph. Apologizing for being toxic and making this about her somehow. She’s justified her behavior by saying she’s got irrational feelings so, o
f course, I should forgive her. Gimme a break.
But, it doesn’t change anything, does it? She still said and thought those things about me. How could I ever trust her again? Not like I did, that’s for sure.
The Facebook app dings as her new message comes through.
“I owe you an explanation about Jon. He was bitching to me for months about being bored with you because you take your job so serious, because you’re a drag. I also know he was talking to Tom before you guys broke up. You both are THE topic of convo in our friend group. Tom said Jon broke up with you just so he could sleep with that Roxanne skank, and planned to make up afterwards so he wasn’t technically cheating. Said he needed to get into adult mode like you so he was gonna break up for a month and get as much action as he could, then get back w u and buckle down and start adulting. It backfired. We are all talking about the pics you posted yesterday on FB & IG. He was ready to grovel when he found out you were in Cali, figuring he could keep fucking around until you get back. But now, he sees your makeover (you look so amazing btw. Serious bombshell. I hate you a little.) and your new job and all that success and that you don’t look like you’re pining away and he’s kicking himself. Tom said he’s one hot mess on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He’s talking about flying down there to win you back, maybe see if he can stay down there w u and get a job. Your Mom told him your job has you in a corp apt and so he would totally come down and leech off you. Do NOT take him back. He doesn’t deserve you. I don’t deserve you either, but I hope you’ll take me back. I’m proud of you for bouncing back like this. Still hate you a little with my green envy eyes but Love u 4ever too. Xo.
Whoa. Whoa.
As I absorb that, my throat is dry. I’m parched.
One more message comes in.
“You don’t have to reply. Knowing you’ve read this is enough for me for now. Call me when you’re ready.”
Oh, how generous of you, Steph. I stick my tongue out and blow a raspberry at my phone.
I look at my door and purse my lips. I don’t wanna go back out there so I decide to settle for some tap water. I grab an empty water bottle from the table beside my bed and decide to take it to the bathroom to rinse and refill it.
When I get to the hallway, I see the pocket doors are wide open. All the lights are on, but it looks like no one’s out there. I go to the fridge and fill my water bottle with water from the dispenser on the front of the fridge instead. I check the lock, seeing it’s already locked, then turn out all the lights except for the little one over the stove so that when he gets home, he’ll have a bit of light, and then I head back to my room. It’s stuffy in here. I open the windows wide before I lift my phone and stare at Jon’s contact details for a minute. I take a deep breath. Two. Three.
And then I sit sideways on the wide windowsill, cocking my knees. and dial.
He answers with my name instead of by saying hello.
“Yeah,” I say, flatly.
“Oh, thank God. We need to talk. I… I fucked up.”
“Yeah, you did. You fucked up, Jon.”
“We need to make it right, babe.”
“We don’t.”
“Carly…”
“Nope. You and me? Done. You break up with me and break my fuckin’ heart like that? Tell me we don’t work, that you don’t see the future you want if you’re with me and I find out you have a date that same day? That was the end. There’s no making it right after that.”
I’m yelling now. All the emotion is bubbling over.
“Babe…”
“You fucked her that day, didn’t you?” I snap.
He doesn’t answer.
“You don’t need to answer. I know you and your game. I know all about it. Break up with me to fuck around, thinkin’ it’s guilt-free if we’re not together. Go sow your wild oats, figuring I’m crying my eyes out and pining for you, then get me back when you’re done being an asshat. Wrong. WRONG motherfucker.”
“Carly, please let me explain. Sometimes it takes something like this to be able to see what’s really----"
“No! Fuck no. You did me a favor, Jonathan. You did. Because now I’m free to find someone who isn’t a selfish asshole who complains that I’m too grown up, too responsible. Too boring behind my back. I’m free to find someone who won’t forget our anniversary. Who will take more than ten minutes to have sex and make sure I actually enjoy it!”
He doesn’t answer that. Direct hit right between the eyes.
Oh yeah. Nice girl Carly, Femme-bot Carly? She took a hike.
“Nothing to say now? Hope you enjoy sowing those wild oats, Jonny-boy, because this girl is ready to find better and bigger things. Get me?”
Yeah, I said bigger. It’s a low blow, but fuck him! He hurt me.
He doesn’t reply, so I continue.
“Don’t call me anymore. You broke up with me. You fucked some girl the day we broke up after being with me for two fucking years, thinking you could go play and that I’d wait around until you were ready to start adulting? Go do whatever the fuck you want. I’m not only adulting down here in sunny California, making three times the money I made at home, living in a sweet condo enjoying ocean views… guess what else? I’ve also got a hot millionaire flirting with me on a daily basis. And he looks at me like he wants to have me for lunch. Maybe I’ll let him.”
Is Aiden a millionaire? Don’t know. Maybe he’s a billionaire. Whatever.
“You’re not even a thousandaire and I would’ve been loyal and faithful to you until we died, Jon.” My emotion is leaking out of my eyes now. Great.
“Carly, babe. Please. I lu-love you. I fucked up.”
“Nope. You don’t love me. You probably never did. How could you treat someone you love like that? Lose my number. Better yet, don’t matter; I’m changing my number to a 6-1-9. I hope that old number haunts you enough that your next girlfriend, you treat better. You fucked up, buddy. You fucked up, large. I’m gonna be a successful adult down here. You go ahead and try to find someone better than me. More exciting than me. Have a blast!”
I hang up.
My heart is racing. Galloping. I’m filled with adrenalin. I want to scream out. Primal scream therapy. And maybe even laugh maniacally. And…
I hear noise. A door closes.
I thought I smelled cigarette smoke, but I was too caught up in my conversation.
I gasp. God, did Aiden hear me on the phone? I was really shouting.
Was that the balcony or the hallway? He might’ve been out there smoking.
My window is open so if it was the balcony door, everything would’ve been audible.
Is he alone? Did that girl he was arguing with leave or did they go have make-up sex?
I step out onto the balcony and take in some air while drinking from my water bottle.
Everything is quiet out here. The view is amazing. I breathe in and out a few times and then I breathe in again, deep. I picture the bad stuff, Jon, Cait, Steph? I picture it floating away on the breeze.
Whoosh. Gone.
I exhale slowly.
I’m gonna sleep good tonight, I think. I’m glad I gave Jon a piece of my mind. I feel like I’ve closed a chapter. With everything from home that I was carrying around like a giant weight on my shoulders for the past week --- I’m glad I made that call, sent those messages.
I hear a door. I look to my right and see a head in the dark approach the railing just around the corner. A bare-chested male person. Aiden. That’s the door to his bedroom. He spots me and steps back in and shuts his door without saying anything. Maybe he does have company. Or maybe he just doesn’t feel like people-ing.
I go back into my room, closing the door harder than necessary so that he maybe hears and knows he can make use of the outdoor space if he needs to.
I plug in my phone, making sure the volume is loud and the alarm is set so I don’t sleep in again. Tomorrow, I’m going to rock my day at work.
Tonight, I’m going to sleep like a baby.
It’s the next day at work and it is not a good day. He’s in some sort of tyrant mode.
He hollered out that there was a typo in a tweet. It’s not my tweet. It was scheduled from weeks back, but I get hollered at.
“How do people who do this for a living not know you don’t pluralize a word with a goddamn apostrophe?”
“I agree. But A) it’s not my tweet. B) Autocorrect is ducked.”
That’s my autocorrect humor joke and it never fails to get a chuckle. Until now. He just glares at me.
When I manage to convince him it wasn’t my tweet, my face is burning red because the whole office can hear him yelling at me.
And then he needs something for a meeting and Stacy the intern, is having a problem with the photo copier and a paper jam. I’m in the copy room, trying to help her, and he comes in and barks at both of us to call a repairman instead of wasting time.
Blake, another intern comes in and gets the paper jam fixed for us fast.
In the late morning, I’m in the coffee room and the machine is overflowing, so I try to clean it up and he comes in with his father and they see me cleaning the mess so I’m betting they assume I’ve made it.
“Someone must have pushed the button to brew a new carafe when the carafe was already full,” I say.
“Oops,” Mr. C smiles and looks on sympathetically as I’m dropping paper towels all over the place.
“We’ll get coffee downstairs,” Aiden grumbles, and they both leave me with the giant mess, not even offering to help.
Other than those mishaps, I’m determined to rock my day.
Ally and I go for lunch down the road to a little sandwich place and we run into Austin Carmichael while we’re there.
Ally tries to chat him up. He has no idea who we are, even with her pink hair standing out at the office, so she introduces us.
He apologizes and tells us it’s fiscal year end so he’s a bit of a zombie. He joins us for lunch and there’s small talk for a minute, about Ally being from Baltimore and me being from Buffalo and then, strangely, out of the blue, while Ally has dashed to the bathroom, Austin leans over.