by Liz Lovelock
“Ow, Chloe! What the hell?” His hands fly to his head. Blood immediately pours out between his fingers. Deep down, I give an excited dance and shout of glee. Serves you right, sucker!
“What the hell? What the hell?” I laugh outwardly. The sound coming from me is not something I’d normally make. “How dare you both do this to me?” I stab my finger towards them, then back at my chest.
“Chloe, I’m so sorry, it just—happened,” Crystal pleads. Tears form in her eyes, but her performance has no effect on me.
“You!” My burning gaze turns to her. “How could you, my apparent best friend, do this to me?”
“I—”
“No, don’t even bother. I don’t want to hear it. This friendship is over. It no longer exists. You’re nothing to me, not even a blip on my radar.”
Crystal moves towards me with a begging look of sorrow on her face. “I’m sorry,” she cries. Her tears now overflow down her cheeks.
“You’re only sorry because you got caught.”
“Chloe, I think you completely overreacted. Look at me, I’m bleeding!” Ryan chokes back his sobs. My fiery glare now flicks towards him. Bright red blood streaks down the side of his face, and I feel zero remorse. Instead, I burst out laughing like a cackly old witch.
“I overreacted?” I’m not even sure those words are distinguishable with the level of screeching leaving my mouth. “What would you do if I was in bed with your best mate?”
He gives no response. Yeah, sucker, I got you and you know it. Your dick got the better of you and I caught you in the act.
Ryan scrunches a bunch of the sheet he clutches to his body in his hand, placing it to his head. Crystal slides closer to him inspecting the gash.
“Chloe, he needs to go to a doctor . . . it looks deep.” Crystal’s reasoning tone tries to outshine my fury towards them both.
“I couldn’t care less about him. You’re both dead to me!”
“Chloe, please, forgive us,” Crystal pleads, obviously realising her mistake at choosing him over me.
“Oh, hell no! I just lost my job and came here to seek some support from my boyfriend, but now I wash my hands of you both. Goodbye.” I slap my hands together as if washing them and flicking the water away. Good riddance. With my final farewell said, I leave, heartbroken.
When you think, someone could be the one for you, only to be made a fool of when you discover they’ve deceived you, it hurts like a sucker punch to the stomach. The joy Ryan gave me and the friendship Crystal and I had for years are now gone. A treacherous storm brews within my chest, threatening to destroy me. Two horrible incidents in one day.
Once I slide into my car, the storm erupts. My head falls into my hands and I sob. Crystal’s betrayal is the hardest to come to terms with. How could she throw away years of friendship, especially for a guy, let alone her best friend’s boyfriend?
Broken and devastated, I start my car and make my way to the one place I can always call my sanctuary . . . home.
Tears cascade down my face during the entire twenty-minute drive home. It’s unforgivable what those two have done. How do I move on from this? How does anyone move on from such a betrayal?
I need a friend right now and Janie is all I have. We’ve been close since I started working for Chad and his company three years ago . . .
Perhaps I should talk to Mum? No, that’s probably not a good idea. My parents are worrisome and love giving advice I know I wouldn’t want to hear in the first place. They try hard to help me, and I know they want the best for me.
You need to calm down, I warn myself before deciding to check in on the Mum and Dad first, allowing myself some time to get my head in order before seeing Janie, she’ll know what to say to help me feel better.
Pulling to a halt in the familiar driveway, I kill the engine. Dropping my head down in disappointment, has my head hitting the steering wheel, hard. It throbs instantly and sets off the waterworks once more. So much has happened today and every bit of it horrid. Taking a few deep breaths, I wipe my hands down my face brushing away my tears, attempting to pull myself together. I don’t want to play the one billion questions game with Mum about why I’ve been crying and look terrible.
A quick check in the review mirror and I’m out of the car. “What now?” I huff, when I’m alerted to raised voices coming from inside the house, my house. My heart sinks. I should have been expecting something else to go wrong today. How does the saying go? Bad things come in threes?
Now I’m faced with a dilemma, should I get back in the car and leave before I become involved in whatever it is going on in there, or be a good daughter and face the third potentially terrible disaster of the day? My feet answer for me and, without consent, drag the rest of me towards the front door. The voices become louder and much clearer.
“How could you do this to me?” Dad’s angry voice hits the other side of the door. What did Mum do?
“I’m so sorry,” she yells back. What is she sorry for?
My hand reaches for the handle when Dad sounds off again. I pause.
“You’re sorry? What about Chloe? Are you going to tell her?”
Before Mum answers, I grip the knob and push open the door with a hard shove. The sound of silence fills the tense room as their heads swing in my direction . . . so much sadness fills their gazes. Dad stands in front of Mum, who sits on the couch twisting a tissue in her hands. Her attempt to hide the fact she’s very upset is obvious, as she quickly swipes away her tears. Watching her wipe down her perfectly pressed linen pants, I try to think of a time I’ve seen her quite this upset. None come to mind.
“Hey honey, what are you doing home? Is everything okay?” Her voice trembles.
Dad turns, his back is now my view. He’s avoiding eye contact with me, but why? Hurt ripples through me. Why would a father turn away from his daughter? The ripples become stronger each second and he keeps his eyes averted from mine.
“I don’t know . . . you tell me. Is everything alright with both of you? The entire neighbourhood can hear you both shouting.” My tone is soft and I’m unsure of what’s going on between them. A strange fear takes hold of me, squeezing tightly, taking any happiness I had left in me with it. They both turn their eyes my way.
Dad rubs his hands down his pained face, sighing heavily. Mum’s bottom lip quivers in response and I watch as liquid quickly pools in her eyes; she tries blinking her sadness away, but fails. A sense of dread washes over me causing my hand to move to my chest before I grip my shirt. No, not another bad thing to add to this already horrendous day. Mum must see the aggrieved look I’m wearing because if her next words are supposed to ease the tension I’m feeling, they don’t.
“It’s okay, honey, nothing to worry yourself about.” Mum’s rickety words shake me to my core. When parents say don’t worry, then you know there’s something major to stress about. And as an only child, I’ve seen and heard lots of arguments between Mum and Dad, but the tone of Dad’s voice when I first arrived, pierces right through me.
“No, it’s not alright. Nothing is alright!” Dad yells. I step back in alarm of the man who’s never raised his voice with that much anger at Mum or me. His watery gaze shifts between Mum and I, but it isn’t until he notices my hesitant step back, his face falls, full of remorse.
“What the hell is going on?” I yell. My attempt to swallow down the hard lump in my throat is worthless. It only rises again and again.
Silence fills the room once again, and a deafening stillness settles around us. I fear my family, as I once knew it, is about to fall apart.
“Come sit down, Chloe,” Dad suggests, the strain in his words evident.
“I’ll stand, thanks.” Folding my arms across my chest, I brace myself for the blow I’m about to get slammed with.
Mum stands, stepping towards me; grief now fills her gaze. Dad doesn’t move a muscle. “Honey, I don’t know where to start.”
“Just spit it out.”
“Alright . . . Ye
ars ago, I made a terrible mistake—one that can’t be undone.” She pauses, drawing in a few deep breaths. “The man you know to be your father, isn’t your father—or at least, I’m not sure if he is or not.”
Numbness spreads throughout my shocked body. There’s only the sound of everything around me shattering, while my world smashes into a pile of nothingness. My life as I once knew it, is now nought.
“What?” The word catches in my tense throat, the sound barely a whisper.
“I’m so sorry, to both of you.”
The compass once directing me, now spins out of control. Mum’s muttered apologies become nothing more than a muffle.
How is it that I was happy Chloe this morning, bouncing out the door, saying bye to Mum, and now I’m paralysed on the spot, questioning who I am. In the space of a few hours, the liars and cheats of my world have been exposed. People whom I love and trust have all decided that my feelings are meaningless to them. That it’s all right for them to hurt me. Well, it’s not.
“Chloe, you’re still my daughter,” Dad assures me. He must sense my need to crumble on the spot. The rug has been hauled out from under not only me, but Dad as well.
“You lied to me all these years?” My gaze shifts to Mum. Her face is streaked with tears, I wonder if she is truly sorry, or sorry she got caught.
“I’m so sorry—I cannot say it enough. I’m sorry I hurt you and your fath—”
“He’s possibly not my father!” The scream erupting from my throat frightens even myself. “You lied to me.” I hiss. My finger points at my mother like an arrow finding its aim. “You lied to Dad.” The way I say ‘Dad’ sounds as if I’m even unsure if I should give him that title now.
“The guilt I’ve felt has been a weight on my shoulders.”
“And so it should. You’re a liar.” My venomous words strike out.
“Chloe, don’t speak to your mother like that,” Dad growls.
“What? You’re okay with this whole situation?”
“No. I knew about the affair, and I questioned about you being mine. Your mother assured me—” he stops unable to continue.
Suddenly, I’m speechless. My mouth hangs open. What am I meant to say? He knew!
My gaze roams the house I’ve called home since birth. A house filled with lies. I’m crying once again. Who is my real dad then? Is there a possibility it’s him? So many questions burn a hateful fire through me.
“Who could possibly be my real father, if Dad isn’t?” My dad winces at my question and looks to Mum for the answer. “Does he know about me?”
Her head hangs in shame. “Honey, no, he doesn’t know about you. You don’t need to know who he is, because this man right here”—she gestures to Dad standing beside her, who quite possibly is the most broken looking man I’ve ever seen . . . I stare intensely as a single tear slides the length of his face—“he is your father, and nothing else matters.”
“Were you ever going to tell me if I hadn’t walked in when I did?”
She thinks for a moment before responding. “No.”
The force behind the word means I would have lived my life not knowing. Maybe it would have been for the best, but the truth is out now. What happens from here?
“I can’t deal with this right now.” I stomp towards my bedroom, and grind my teeth from the brewing anger wanting to lash out. Grabbing a suitcase from the linen cupboard along the way, I hear footsteps following me. Mum and Dad beg me to stay and sort this out, to talk it over. Why would I want to discuss this with them? There’s nothing for me to sort out.
“Darling.” Dad’s soft, broken voice stops me. “Please don’t go.”
“Dad, I need time. This whole mess has robbed me of the last bit of strength I had left today. I lost my job today, and I found out Ryan was cheating on me with Crystal.”
Mum gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. Dad looks at me with pity. Mum hesitantly steps towards me.
Quickly I raise my hand to halt her in her tracks. “Stop. I don’t want or need your comfort right now. I’ve had enough of discovering who the liars, cheats, and dirt bags in my life are. Leave me alone, both of you.” Before they get a chance to reply, I slam my bedroom door in their faces. They don’t attempt to come in.
I hear them whispering harsh words to each other. There’s no one to blame except Mum.
Today can go to hell. Can I get a do-over? I sure need one. Perhaps I could simply leave and no one would be any the wiser.
Chad, Ryan, and Crystal deserve each other. Mum’s betrayal is something I’m going to struggle to forgive. How could she keep it from not only me, but Dad as well? It’s not him I’m angry with, but I need a breather from both of them. They would only molly coddle me and try to get me to talk about feelings I don’t want to discuss.
Shoving random clothes into my suitcase, with no destination in mind, I have no idea where I’m going. What I do know is this place doesn’t have the comfort of home anymore. It’s a house built on deceptions.
With my bright pink suitcase shoved onto my back seat, the window down and an unknown future ahead, I suck in a breath to settle the nerves bouncing around within me. Where am I going?
After driving around for an hour, I decide I need a plan of action. A massive drink right about now would be fabulous. A pub–that’s what I need.
My phone has been sounding off messages nonstop all afternoon, calls from Mum and Dad, Crystal, and Ryan. Ignoring everyone, I pick up my phone with someone else in mind. Janie . . .
Her phone rings once. “Today sucks big hairy balls,” I reply after her greeting. Relief floods through me, grateful I can still call her my friend.
“Are you okay? I’ve had Crystal calling me . . . nonstop.”
My face screws up with the mention of her name. “Oh, stuff that bitch.”
“Ouch. What happened?” she asks.
“She didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
“Can I meet you somewhere? Right now, I have nowhere to go and no one I trust.” I choke on the words.
“Yeah, sure. Where are you?”
“About ten minutes from where I once worked.”
“Okay, I’m glad it’s my half day. I’m walking out the door. I’ll meet you at Trent’s pub.”
“See you then.” Glancing down at my watch, it reads two-fifteen. Yeah, I’m grateful for Janie’s half day too, otherwise I don’t know what I’d do.
With a heavy heart, I pull up outside the bar, deciding I won’t be limiting my drink consumption. A heavy drink is needed. Usually Crystal would be designated driver one night of the weekend or whenever I needed her, but this isn’t an option now. There’s always cabs, right? Crystal’s called another six times. My message bank will fill up soon, but it doesn’t matter. I’m sick of the constant calls, so to prevent them and so I don’t have to hear the ringing anymore, I shut the phone off.
Janie stands outside waiting for me. It’s a nice afternoon; a cool spring duskiness dances in the air. I’m surprised I can see something positive in a day like today.
“Hey Chloe.”
“Hey.” Her arms open for an embrace and I welcome it. It’s something I’ve needed all day.
“Let’s go get a table. Have you eaten today?” she fusses.
I ponder on her question. Have I eaten today? I think I recall having toast before I walked out the door for work. My stomach rumbles at the thought of food. “I don’t think I’ve had anything since this morning.”
She leads the way inside to our usual table. Taking our seats, I sigh heavily. Tears stream down my face, all the pent-up emotions releasing once again, only this time . . . tenfold. I don’t care if other patrons in the bar might think I’m crazy. The dam wall collapses, and all before I’ve had a chance to tell Janie all the details.
“What’s going on? I’ve not seen you like this before.” Her hand rests on my arm, comfortingly.
I fill her in on the events that unfolded, from the time I walked out of the office door
s until now.
Janie’s left speechless. Her mouth hangs open. “I have no words,” is all she manages to achieve.
“Yeah, tell me about it.”
“Oi, Trent, my man!” she calls to the bartender, who also happens to be the owner. We’re two of his regulars, so he stops drying the glasses fresh from the dishwasher and strides over to us. He’s a good-looking man, maybe fortyish. Well, that’s my assumption anyway. He’s still hot for an older guy. He’d have some experience under his belt. His dark hair has a few specks of grey. He has the most piercing blue eyes—they would make any woman swoon, including myself and Janie.
“What can I do for you, pretty ladies?” His thick Irish accent raises my pulse a little every single time.
“We need a round of drinks, you know the usual and whatever the special is. Chloe here has had one hell of a rough day.”
He walks around the bar, coming towards me. His arm falls over my shoulders, then he leans down, giving me a kiss on the cheek. Talk about unexpected. At least it makes me smile “Alright, I’ll be right back with ya drinks.” A friendly smile from Trent meets my eyes. I swear, I’ve become a puddle of mush.
I lean into Janie. “Honestly, why can’t I find someone like Trent? Nice, charming, a hot Irish accent, and he has the looks to go with those attributes.”
She giggles, as do I. It’s amazing to share a happy moment.
“Because a man like that would be too hot to handle, especially with your track record.”
I roll my eyes at her response. “Oh, gee thanks,” I reply, sarcasm rolling off my tongue. Her words are a stab to the heart. Deep down I know she’s joking, but I guess she’s right . . . in a way. My relationships always happen to end badly. I’m terrible at picking men . . . obviously.