by Ysabel Wilde
“It wasn’t just because of them, Faith. Yes, that devastated me, but I was also torn to pieces by you. Having lost the love of my life a few months prior didn’t help. Or did you forget?”
My voice came out like acid, making Faith slide away from me.
“Let’s say I don’t feel the need to go out to bars or date because I did more than my share afterwards. I drank hundreds of bars worth of liquor and fucked too many girls to care to think about,” I growled at her.
I was still able to maintain control of myself.
“Sorry,” she replied as if she had spilled a drink on my floor. How could she sound so heartless over it?
“Sorry? That’s all you can say. I have a question that’s been bothering me since we fucked at the hospital.”
The anger from everything was starting to surface, and my voice became a shout. I didn’t even attempt to censor my thoughts. Obviously treating her like the woman I thought she deserved to be treated as wasn’t working, so maybe some vulgar words would snap her back from where ever she was at. Faith slid farther back on the couch like I’d slapped her.
“Why doesn’t Grace know about me? If you loved me and those memories are some of your favorite ones, why wouldn’t you tell your best friend?”
The thought that I was purposely hidden infuriated me and I was yelling now. I was scaring Faith, but I didn’t care. She deserved it. It was a long time coming.
“You wouldn’t understand.” Faith was shaking her head rapidly from side to side. For how loud I was, Faith was the exact opposite. What the hell was going on with this woman? She would normally be giving it back at me just as hard, but she just sat here and let me talk to her like this.
“I wouldn’t understand? You never gave me a chance to understand. Were you embarrassed of me? Is that why you never talked about me?”
I leapt up in her face, poking myself in the chest as I screamed. “You left me! Me, Faith. You. Left. ME!” The veins in my neck were straining. Holy hell, I was a mad man. I knew it but I couldn’t stop.
I could feel my face was red and I was breathing hard like I did when I boxed. At least I could pound the shit out of the opponent’s face when I got like this, but Faith was my opponent now. Actually, more like a punching bag. Why the hell wasn’t she fighting back? She would have never let me yell at her like this before, but she just sat there, a shell of the woman I loved. I had to try what ever I could to get her back.
Faith bolted for the door. I sprinted past her, blocking her exit. I was practically laughing now at the ridiculousness of it all.
“Oh, no you don’t. You may have tricked me the last time we were in this same setting, but not tonight,” I wagged a finger at her.
Half of her face was lit by flickering flames the other half completely black.
“You’re going to give me answers, Faith,” I demanded. “You can’t make someone fall in love with you, want to make a life with you, a family with you for fucking sakes, and then vanish.”
My hands waved around in the open air as I shouted. I’m sure I looked crazed, but that’s how I felt.
And why was she looking at me like this was new information? We always talked about getting married and having a family.
I waited for her to respond, giving my blood pressure time to come down. She was shaking and I knew it wasn’t because she was cold. I had the poor thing terrified. This sure will be a memorable night, no doubt about it. The next time I think to do anything with a blanket I’m going to kick my own ass. Why did I even think this was a good idea considering how things had ended the last time I did it?
“Move, John,” she said in that meek little voice I didn’t recognize.
What the fuck!
“No.” I crossed my arms across my chest, pushing it out to make it appear bigger. Satisfied I looked serious enough I leaned against the door, pretending I didn’t care that she was upset, even though it was killing me.
“I’m not kidding,” she said louder. The fire was lighting her blue eyes into sapphires. Here we go, zombie girl is finally going to fight back.
I had forgotten about that fabulous dress she had on until I saw her chest turn bright red underneath the lace. This little exercise made me notice I liked making her mad. The anger I had evaporated and was replaced with desire. Desire to do the same things I had done to her the other day, plus more.
“I’m not either, Faith.” My mouth was pulled into a smirk. She was so hot I had to hold back the urge to drag her to the ground and fuck her. On that damn blanket!
“John, if you don’t let me out now you can forget about being friends. It’s over for good, I’m serious.” Her face was starting to show signs of her temper, but not what I knew she had in her. She was still holding back. Come on, baby, give me everything you got.
“And that would be different from these last seven years, how? Ask me if I really care what happens after tonight, Faith,” I said, sounding as cold and heartless as I could while I prayed she didn’t mean the threat because I did care. Really fucking cared.
What came out of my mouth was harsh but Faith always got her way, and there was no chance in hell I was going to coddle her tonight, especially since she was acting so unlike herself. I would give my life for her, but this was one thing I needed to have answers to.
I stood against the door, flexing my arms, watching the muscles and tendons in my forearms tense and relax as my veins pulsed under the strain.
Yeah, I was acting like a cocky ass, but I was allowed every once in a while. I had to do something to distract myself. She couldn’t see that I was falling apart again.
I heard a swoosh and when I tore my eyes from my arms Faith was no longer standing in front of me. All I was left with was a swirl of soft spring flowers.
As my eyes surveyed the room I saw what looked like hundreds of small flames dancing around. Damn, I forgot my place was still lit with candles. If I wasn’t a firefighter I’d be afraid it would burn down. I reached the light switch, flicking it on, and with a quick scan from the family room into the man cave, then to the other end by the media room, I saw no sight of her.
“Faith, where are you?” I called out. Come on, Faith, you know I can never stay mad at you. Never could, never will.”
I vented what I needed to and I felt weightless, having let go of all my pent up anger.
I started to sweep through my place, heading to the room she was most likely hiding.
The master bedroom was spacious. As a kid the only room we had that was this big was our living room. Now I have a room the same size and all I did was sleep in it. I had painted it an ice blue/grey, enjoying not having any woman to tell me how to do things. No flowers allowed. Unless Faith wanted them.
As I suspected, my bathroom door was shut. I turned the knob and, of course, she’d locked it.
“Faith, you know you can’t stay in there all night.”
“Go away,” she snipped at me, sounding like a pouting little girl.
“Did you forget whose place this is?”
“So what?” her voice cracked.
Was she crying?
“Are you crying? I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“Go away.” I heard a sniffle come from directly behind the door.
“Open the door.” Jesus, how long were we going to go like this? “You do know that I could pick the lock if I really wanted to. They make them kid-proof nowadays.”
“Are you calling me a kid?” Faith snapped at me.
“I didn’t say it, you did.” I tried to keep the smile out of my voice but it was too hard.
“Go fuck yourself, John Bauers!” Oh, yeah, here comes feisty Faith.
“I will if I have to, but fucking you would be more fun,” I chuckled.
She was so damn adorable when she got angry, and she was so easy to rile. I have never been able to keep a fight going with her. I could only imagine how red her chest was. I’m sure it had spread up to her beautiful face. What I wouldn’t give to kiss m
y way up, starting at those fabulous tits.
“Shut up, mother fucker.” The toilet seat slammed shut and I heard a disgusted little grunt.
She looks so fragile, but I forgot that when she gets pissed she curses like a sailor. I love it.
I hunkered down next to the door, ready to spring up and grab her the minute the door opened even a crack. By all the garbled curses I heard on the other side I had a feeling I would be here a while.
Maybe I deserved it, but John had never screamed at me like that before. What an ass. A big, hot, panty-soaking, multiple-orgasm-inducing ass.
I knew he was out there somewhere waiting for me, most likely leaning against the wall by the door ready to pounce.
My plan was to let him get a stiff back while waiting and then kick him in his balls for good measure while making a run for it.
I don’t know how he expected me to react. Was there a manual out there that taught men that the way to get a woman out of your bathroom was to laugh at her and piss her off? After telling me what happened in the darkroom was a fuck? Fat chance, buddy, there was no way I was coming out anytime soon after he said that to me.
That night when he seduced me his voice was so husky and unexpected I caved. He never had to say much to make me wet and I was caught off guard. The darkroom wasn’t my fault; at least that’s what I was telling myself.
I had never thought that my leaving would be such a big deal to him. A twinge of guilt hit me like a direct punch straight in the stomach.
I was relieved to be in the bathroom because I felt like I was about to vomit. I slowly slid to my knees, lifting the seat back up and hung my head inside.
When I left I knew he’d be upset. I knew he’d have a hard time but I figured when I didn’t reach out to him he’d end up moving on to someone else.
When he brought up our conversations of the future I was taken aback. I had never taken those conversations seriously. After all, we were in high school, and how often did you find the one to spend the rest of your life with in high school? Not only that but how can you take someone serious when they’re sticking French fries in their mouth to look like fangs and telling you they want to suck your blood?
When we would speak about forever it was always general stuff. But doesn’t everybody talk about that when they’re young and in love.
My cell phone buzzed. I took a peek at it, afraid of who I would see. When my fear was confirmed bile erupted from my stomach with a loud splash. My head hung for a while to make sure my stomach had stopped fighting.
What the hell did Brad want? Why did I have an urge to find out? All I could do was look into the surprisingly clean toilet for a guy and wonder. I didn’t care at this point if John heard me or not, I wasn’t able to control it.
“Hey, Faith, are you okay? Let me in!” John’s joking demeanor was gone now, replaced by concern. The door handle jiggled rapidly up and down a couple of times. Good, stupid bastard. Not really, but it would be a whole lot easier if he was one. A reminder beep came from inside my purse and more of the yellow-green acid ended up in the immaculate toilet, landing on my reflection, sending ripples out to the edge. What had my life become?
“Faith, this really isn’t funny. You have to let me in or I’ll just let myself in,” John said with the same kind of authority he gave to his patients.
If John had to pick the lock to get me out that would add to my humiliation for the night. Done fighting, I sighed. “Fine, give me a minute.”
I went over to the sink and started to rinse my mouth out with water, clinging to the sink with one hand. As I watched my pastier than normal reflection, I was thinking how everything turned in the matter of hours. One minute John’s flirting with me, trying to look up my dress, and the next I’m on the floor trying to hide from two guys.
“I have a brand-new toothbrush in the linen closet if you need one. Do you need some Sprite or ginger ale?”
“Thanks. No, I’m fine, really.” I meant it. I never understood how he could be furious with me one minute and then the very next calm and sweet.
Tomorrow was the day I met with the committee at work. That was probably the reason my stomach was so upset. I wish someone could go with me, but Grace was busy and there was nobody else I could ask.
Once I knew I was safe and alone in the bedroom, I crept out of the bathroom doing my version of the walk of shame, thinking of poor Mike.
I peeked my head out into the hall to make sure John wasn’t waiting and the coast was clear. It made me wonder how big this place was and how he could afford it on a firefighter's salary? I took a better look around now that the lights were on and felt a sense of calm. The entire main living space was painted a tawny brown color screaming guy. I would love to give it a splash of color with flowers.
Thinking I wasn’t speaking loud enough to be heard from that corner of the condo I said to myself, “How do you afford it here?”
Totally not expecting an answer I jumped when a sexy voice answered me. “My parents paid for it.” The somber tone made my stomach churn.
As I came back out to the living room, the entire place was transformed. All the candles had disappeared and the display that was on the floor was now out of sight except for the vase of flowers and the brown journal that sat on a side table near his balcony doors.
“I know you said you didn’t want anything to drink but I want you to put something in your body. I don’t work tomorrow and I don’t want any of the other schmucks taking care of you if you end up dehydrated,” John said as he handed me a glass of clear liquid.
I could tell he felt miserable about the outburst from earlier. Should I tell him my getting sick wasn’t his fault? Screw him. He can suffer along with me.
I reached out and stroked one of the petals on the flowers I loved so much. Calla lilies used to be my favorite flower. They still were, but when I moved here I stopped buying them because they reminded me of a place I didn't want to remember. It hurt too much. A smile tried to form on my face with no success.
“Those are for you to take home. You didn’t get to take the first ones I bought with you. And that’s for you, too.” John’s eyes fell to a faded brown leather book. The book made me curious, wanting to sneak a look, but I felt shy so I held back.
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say. He was so sad. A deep breath escaped me. “So, what do you want to know?”
A boulder appeared in my gut.
“Never mind,” John shook his head adamantly. “I don’t want to upset you anymore. It doesn’t matter.”
He wouldn’t make eye contact with me. We were at a stand-still on opposing sides of the kitchen counter.
“It does matter, John. I just didn’t want to face what I did to you. I’ve lived in a world pretending that no one was hurt by what I did and I realize that’s not true.” I moved away from the table, giving John my back. I could feel his eyes boring holes into me.
I plopped myself on the couch, letting my body go to Jell-O, resting my head back. “Ask me anything and I’ll tell you. I owe it to you.”
I kept my eyes closed because I couldn’t handle looking at his wounded expression anymore.
“Why?” he asked almost so quietly I didn’t hear him.
“Why did I leave?” This time I had to look because John wasn’t answering me.
When I met his dull hazel eyes he gave me a slight nod along with a frown that didn’t look at home on his face.
“It’s such a long story I don’t think you want to hear it tonight. This is a great couch by the way.” Maybe I could sidetrack him.
“I’ve waited seven years to hear it and I don’t want to wait another day. Even if it takes you until the sun comes up I want every last detail.” His eyes turned dark as he watched me from the kitchen. “I need to know why you left me.”
“John, I keep telling you, I didn’t leave you. I left because of my mother. I couldn’t live with her anymore.”
“So you left all of us because of her?”
> I was well aware of who the “us” was and that was a wound I wasn’t sure I could tackle tonight with him. Actually, I was positive I couldn’t.
“They were supposed to come out here when they were ready,” I answered.
“What happened? Why didn’t they? There isn’t one single thing in your place that shows you have sisters. No pictures, nothing.”
He was wrong. There was something, only it was another one of my lonely secrets.
“That’s the one thing I will not talk to you about. Anything else, but I’m not talking about them tonight. I can’t,” I said quietly.
“Well, you have to tell me something, dammit!” John demanded. His fists clenched, turning his knuckles white while resting on the counter. I knew he was holding back. He didn’t scare me, though.
“Because your mom was on your ass about what to do, you leave? Guess what, Faith, that’s called being a kid with a parent who cares.”
“Are you telling me you didn’t know? You honestly had no idea what I was going through with her?” I asked astonished.
“There’s more?” That caught his attention. He pulled a beer from the fridge and he made his way over to me, walking like he was setting off snappers by a little bunny who was about to run.
“You weren’t sexually abused were you?” He came and sat gingerly next to me, resting his hand on top of mine. The pressure felt comforting, reassuring.
I didn’t chase his hold away because that contact was the only way I would be able to get through what I was about to tell him. He obviously needed to hear it. All these years he’d thought I left him.
“Before you freak out, no, I wasn’t sexually abused. You’re right, though, when you said my mom was on my ass about every little thing I did.” I cringed saying the word mom.
Taking a deep breath, and letting it out with a strangled sigh I asked, “Didn’t you ever wonder why I always had bruises?”
I took a glance in John’s direction out of the corner of my eye. He was trying to make sense of things and figure it out, but it wasn’t clicking.