by S. Gilmour
He grabbed my wrists to stop my assault.
“How could you do this to me? Todd Guthrie? Seriously? That’s who had to tell me? That little man-whore Todd Guthrie knew about all this before I did? Fuck!” I sobbed. “Who am I kidding? Everybody knew about this before I did.”
“Paige, I swear I didn’t want you to find out this way. I wanted to tell you first.”
“Then why didn’t you?” I cried. Chaz’s eyes were pleading and for a millisecond I felt sorry for him. Then I became angry all over again. “Have you had sex with anybody besides Donny? With other men?”
“Don’t do this, Paige,” he pleaded.
“Answer me!”
“Yes,” he said and looked away.
I sucked in my breath and forced out the next question.
“While we were together?”
“No. Of course not,” he said, seemingly shocked that I would even dare ask. “I love you, it was only you.”
Tears began to spill down my cheeks. He stepped forward and took me into his embrace. I didn’t want his hands on me but I was so broken I didn’t have the strength to fight him.
“Is this why you insisted on rubbers?” I asked, my voice cracking.
“No, Paige, that’s not the reason. You knew why.”
I thought back to the last month we were together, when he wanted me to get pregnant. We didn’t use protection. “Should I be worried?” I cried. I knew so little about Donny’s lifestyle. Which apparently was Chaz’s too.
“No.”
I felt the nausea tear through me. I twisted out of his embrace and ran to the bathroom. I fell onto my knees, dry-heaving violently into the toilet as I grasped the sides. Chaz slid behind me and held onto me until I was finished. I collapsed against the cool porcelain. He rose and ran the water in the sink. A warm washcloth was placed into my hand.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into my neck. “I never meant to hurt you. When I met you that day at the community center Dillon took me to the side and said to stay away, that you were his. After that I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
I wanted to scream, to plug my ears and not hear any of it but I forced myself to listen. I kept my back to him, my fingers gripping onto the plastic toilet seat like a life preserver.
“Paige, I wanted to be that guy for you. I could see how much you wanted it and I wanted to believe it too. Dammit, Paige, don’t you see? I fell for you. I began to think that I wouldn’t need men in my life if I had you. That I could be the person that everyone wanted me to be, the person I was supposed to be.”
I felt another wave of nausea creeping up my throat, the bitter bile tightening my dry mouth.
“When my dad died I told myself this is what he would have wanted. This was going to be my life now. Whatever other feelings I had, or might have, they wouldn’t matter. You would be enough for me. Can’t you see that? I love you.”
“You have a fucked up way of showing it Chaz,” my voice echoed into the toilet bowl. The muscles in my stomach clenched again and I braced myself but there was nothing left.
“Todd didn’t mean anything to me, except make me realize how much I need you.”
“I’m so flattered that you’ve decided to settle for me.” My words dripped off the sides of the toilet bowl. Missing the pain and sarcasm in my voice, Chaz’s fingers softly grazed my neck as he swept my hair from my shoulder and nuzzled against my back. I was too emotionally exhausted to fight him off but then he stiffened and pulled back of his own accord.
“You smell like sex.”
I turned to face him.
“You fucked Dillon didn’t you?”
His pierced green stare shot through me and I was sure a slight twinge of guilt flashed through my eyes. I quickly shoved it down into that place in my brain that I kept locked up like Fort Knox.
“Who I fuck is none of your business anymore,” I challenged.
Chaz stood up and ran his hands through his hair. “Goddammit!” he roared and hit the bathroom door with his fist. “How could you?” He paced back and forth like a tiger in a small cage. “Anyone but him,” he muttered. “Jesus, Paige, do you hate me that much?”
I leaned my back against the base of the toilet and raised my eyes to his. “Yes.”
He scrubbed his face with his hands. “He took Miranda and the baby from me. She ran straight to that clinic and never talked to me again. All because of him.”
“You’re wrong, Chaz. It was your lies that drove her away.”
“I’m not a liar,” he insisted. “And what do you know? You’re just a girl…a beautiful, innocent girl who doesn’t understand that actions have consequences.” He pressed his hand into his chest. “The real world is hard and unforgiving to people like me.”
“And what? Just because I’m a stupid girl I can’t possibly understand what it means to have my life turned upside down? That revenge makes it okay to use people, to use the love they have for you against them?” I brought my legs to my chest and tightened my arms around them. “You want to know what I think? I think Miranda did the only thing she could have done after seeing you for who you really were. Not for being gay, but for being a coward.”
Chaz reacted as if he’d been hit and leaned back against the wall for support. I rose to my feet and leaned over the sink, splashing water into my mouth to rinse. He quickly regained his composure and studied me as I tried to find mine.
“Your toothbrush is still in the drawer,” he said, meeting my eyes in the mirror.
I pulled open the drawer. There it was, a painful reminder of what I had lost. My pink toothbrush lay next to his red one along with ponytail elastics, some of my makeup, and… my birthday necklace. It might as well have been a knife, it stabbed into my heart just the same. I plucked the toothbrush from its partner and brushed my teeth, leaning against the counter for support, weak and exhausted. I hadn’t eaten much and I knew my blood sugar was low. Chaz watched as I staggered over to the bed and collapsed. He took my gesture as a white flag and scooted next to me.
“When did you last eat, baby?” He reached out to stroke my cheek.
“I don’t know,” I whispered. Fresh tears dampened my eyes. Why couldn’t I stop crying?
“You’re exhausted.” He wrapped his body around mine. “I don’t want to fight. We’ve both made mistakes but we can get past this. I love you so much it hurts.” He sighed and kissed the top of my head. “Let’s sleep on it and when we wake up we can figure this out.”
I curled into him. He stroked his hands through my hair and I knew I should have left. Dillon was probably going out of his mind but for some twisted reason it felt good to be back here with Chaz. It was safe, familiar, and for a brief moment I could pretend that the nightmare of these past few weeks had been just that, a nightmare. If I tried really hard I could go back to that night when it was raining and we had made love all night, when everything was perfect. Or so I thought. Chaz kissed me softly and I relaxed into him, his strong arms holding me tightly against his chest as I inhaled the familiar scent of Polo cologne mixed with sweat.
I rolled away, knowing it was the last time he would hold me.
***
I stirred awake.
Chaz was gone.
It was dark but light streamed in from under the bedroom door. My heavy eyes strained to focus on the nightstand clock which flashed back a blurry red six-thirty. Voices came from the living room.
“Look, you promised you would never put me in the middle of this and here I am, right smack in the middle. Go get her or I will.”
I squinted and turned away from the intrusive light when the door opened.
“Paige, let’s go,” boomed Donny’s voice from the doorway.
“I said I’d bring her back, let her sleep,” called Chaz. “She doesn’t feel well.”
I sat up and ran my fingers through my hair.
It was time to go.
“Give me a minute, Donny,” I called.
I went into the bath
room and took my swimsuit from the hook on the door. I grabbed my toiletries and make-up out of the drawer and stuffed it all into my bag.
I left the necklace.
I was never coming back.
Chaz rose from the sofa as I walked into the living room.
“You don’t have to go. I can drive you home in the morning.”
Donny leaned against the breakfast bar, his dark eyes darting from me to Chaz. I walked up to Chaz and rose up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
“I have to go,” I whispered. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“Please.” He exhaled slowly, his sage eyes glassy. “Baby, don’t go.”
“Let her go,” said Donny and urged me forward with his hand on the small of my back.
We walked into the cool of the night, the moon shining so brightly it illuminated the yard like floodlights at a Panther football game. The Charger sat idling in the circular driveway with the parking lights on. When we approached, the bright headlights raised and the engine roared. Dillon hopped out of the driver’s seat and slid into the backseat after me, Bryan Adam’s, Run to You pounding from the speakers in sync with my anxious heart. He didn’t look at me, didn’t say anything. He stared straight ahead, the muscles under his jaw tightening as his hands flexed restlessly in his lap. He was pissed at me and he had every right to be. I had left him in a very vulnerable state and I had left with Chaz. I wouldn’t blame him if he never spoke to me again.
Donny lowered into the driver’s seat, silently waiting like a chauffeur. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, the black leather fringe dangling from the wrists of his short, fingerless gloves.
“You ready?” Dillon asked, still refusing to look at me, his sensual lips drawn into a grim line.
“Yes,” I said, knowing that for the first time I really was.
Dillon turned to me, his icy glare softening as his dark eyes lowered down to mine. He reached inside his letterman jacket then pulled his hand back out, setting it gently in my lap. He opened his fist.
My beautiful pink topaz earrings rested in his palm.
My heart clenched.
I looked up to him, my eyes locking with his questioning gaze. I accepted the beautiful gems and with shaking fingers I quickly secured them to my ears. He grasped the side of his jacket and raised his arm, offering his side like an olive branch. I accepted and slowly slid across the seat to him. I looked up to his strong jaw, relaxing into him as he tenderly fingered one of the earrings.
“We start fresh from right now. Agreed?”
I nodded and he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me tightly to his chest, then told Donny we were ready to go. Donny revved the engine and we rolled slowly through the gravel onto the main road.
I didn’t look back.
Epilogue
Donny and I did go to New York the summer after I graduated. The agency put us in a terrible apartment with four other models and we worked even more terrible part-time jobs to survive. After three months of New York humidity and food stamps I was defeated and ready to come home. Donny got a lucky break and started working on Broadway and has been there ever since.
I didn’t see Chaz again until three years later. Dillon and I were home from UCLA for Thanksgiving and I was six months pregnant with Mason. Maddie had forgotten the cranberry sauce and we dashed out to the grocery store for a quick trip. I was in an aisle quickly scanning the cans on the shelf while Dillon waited in the car.
“Paige?”
I whipped my head to the right. Chaz looked down to me, his arms laden with a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine. His green eyes locked with mine and he managed a small smile.
“Chaz?” I whispered. It had been a few years but my heart still stirred at the sound of his voice. He was wearing navy slacks, a khaki trench coat, and was as stunning as ever.
“How are you?
“Pregnant,” I said shyly, pulling back my coat.
“I can see that,” he grinned and moved toward me. He dropped his arm holding the wine to his hip and drew me in for a hug. His arm grazed my swollen belly and the flowers rustled as they pressed into my back. He held me a moment then stiffened and took a step back.
“How are you, Chaz?”
“I’m good, in grad school at NYU.” His eyes narrowed as he focused his gaze on my wedding ring then snapped back to mine. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make the wedding, I was in Europe.”
“I know.” I selected a can of cranberry sauce from the shelf. “I understand.”
I did.
I was reeling, flooded by the memories of our first and last Thanksgiving we had shared a few short years ago…a Thanksgiving when it was just the two of us, getting lost in dreams of pregnant bellies, babies, and rings. My dreams had come true, just not with him.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get going. I’m so late.” He gestured to his wine. “Last minute items are a bitch.”
“Tell me about it,” I smiled. “Say hello to your family for me.”
He nodded and we stared at each other. There was nothing left to say.
“Take care, Paige.” He leaned in, kissed me quickly on the cheek, and then turned on his heel, his coat chasing behind him as he sprinted down the aisle.
***
“Mom found an old boyfriend,” sang Ashley as her father walked into the kitchen and set the take-out bags onto the white marble counter.
“I thought I was your old boyfriend,” smirked Dillon, leaning in to kiss me. He slipped out of his black, leather, motorcycle jacket and draped it over the back of the bar stool.
“You’re home early.” I returned his kiss as he drew me into his embrace. Fridays were usually long nights for Dillon as the scripts received their final edits before taping began on Monday. He had hoped that making the move from producing movies to sit-coms would have given him a regular schedule but so far he was still coming home late.
“Power went out in the studio, again, so our day was cut short.”
“That’s fine with me.” I snuggled into his neck. I never got tired of this. Nothing made me happier than to feel him wrapped around me.
“Get a room,” said Mason with disgust as he brushed past us to get to the refrigerator.
Dillon exhaled a groan and stepped away from me. “Why did we have these kids, Paige? They’re always…here.” Dillon grabbed Mason’s arms and twisted them behind his back. Mason struggled against Dillon and they began to wrestle in that affectionate way that sons did with their fathers.
Mason was almost as tall as Dillon and had those same brooding eyes, a mop of dark hair, and was starting to develop Dillon’s stocky frame. He was just about the age Dillon had been when we had first met and I had fallen head over heels in love with him.
“Mom, Dad’s trying to kill me,” called Mason.
“Dillon, stop killing our son,” I said as I lifted the red and
white take-out boxes from the plastic bags.
“Say it,” commanded Dillon.
“No!” strained Mason through clenched teeth.
“Say it!”
“Uncle!” called Mason. Dillon released him and he collapsed against the marble island.
“Daddy, check this out,” called Ashley from the dining table as she motioned from behind her laptop.
“I’m calling CPS,” yelled Mason as he rubbed his neck.
“Go ahead.” Dillon leaned down against Mason’s cheek and gripped his shoulders. “They’ll put you in a foster home with an old lady whose sole purpose for you is to take care of her nineteen mangy cats and rub her callused feet.”
“Daddy…come heeere,” whined Ashley as I reached into the Sub-Zero for the iced tea pitcher. I set the paper plates and chopsticks onto the table for dinner.
Dillon released his grip on Mason and leaned his tall frame over Ashley’s chair. His eyes scanned the screen, his sensual lips pinched.
“Facebook, Paige? Seriously?” He raised his brows at me from over the screen.
&nbs
p; “Ashley did it, not me,” I scoffed and set the paper boxes onto the table.
“Mom already has two friends,” smiled Ashley proudly.
“Who?” I called.
Dillon leaned in closer to the screen, his dark eyes glittering. “Don and Dan, of course,” he smiled, shaking his head.
“I found Mom’s old boyfriend too.”
“Brit Lowe?” Dillon chuckled. He watched as Ashley clicked through the screen.
“No, some guy named Chaz.”
Dillon turned toward me and smirked.
“She found him on Dan’s page,” I added.
“Who’s this Chaz guy?” asked Mason digging into the box of broccoli beef. He looked from Dillon to me. “Mom?” he prodded, a twinkle in his eye. “Do you have a secret past?”
“He’s just an old friend of Uncle Donny’s,” I said and emptied the box of fried rice into a bowl.
“He’s still hot,” gushed Ashley. “…for an old guy.”
“Ash, time for dinner,” called Dillon. “You can stalk Mom’s boyfriends later.”
Ashley’s brow furrowed as her eyes scanned the screen. “Oh…uh… Mom.”
“What?” I took a seat at the dining table.
“He’s uh…did you know that…”
Dillon sat down at the table, pulling his lips together as he tried to contain his smile.
“Yes, I know. He’s gay. C’mon, time to eat.” I picked up Ashley’s laptop and set it on the counter.
“Mom dated a gay guy?” gasped Mason. “Jesus.”
“Stop,” said Dillon in a low voice, passing a napkin to him.
“You can read all about it in my autobiography,” I teased.
“X-rated autobiography,” added Dillon.
“Gross!” scowled Mason and threw back his iced tea.
“Seriously?” asked Ashley. “Can we?”
“Not a chance,” I smiled and took a seat at the table. “Anyone for General Chicken?”
Dillon relayed an abridged and entertaining tale of my tragic romance to the kids while they stuffed Chinese food into their mouths.
“Well, it looks like the best man won, Dad.” Mason rose from the table and patted Dillon on the back.