by Jenny Siegal
“So, you sleep around because…?” I wait expectantly for him to fill in the gaps.
“To prove my father right, to fill the emptiness, so I don’t get hurt, because I can, any number of reasons.”
“I can understand that,” I say harshly. “So, why was she here last night?”
He burst out a cold laugh. “She’s getting married and she wanted to see if I still had feelings for her, which I don’t. I wished her well but wanted to come and find you. Then she suggested we should sleep together for old time’s sake.” He meets my eyes, and my stomach plummets as the ground falls out from under me. Of course, she did, who wouldn't if given half the chance. What red-blooded male would refuse her?
“And you did.” My voice drops, along with my stomach. A painful knot forms, and I can't look at him any longer.
“What? No! Of course, not. I don’t know what you take me for. She obviously hasn’t changed and is still sleeping around and cheating on her fiancé. I couldn’t be with someone like that,” he says with disgust. “I should have told you about her before now. That's why I asked you to leave. I didn't want her saying anything in front of you until I had a chance to tell you.”
Relief washes over me. He didn't sleep with her, even though thoughts of the two of them tortured me throughout the night. Not that it matters now.
“When she left, I started calling you. I was all set to come over, but I didn't know if you'd want to see me.”
With a heavy sigh, he sits down on the bed and holds his hands out to me. My body has a mind of its own, and I walk over to stand in front of him. Strong arms wrap around my waist, and he rests his head on my stomach. Needing to touch him one last time, I tangle my fingers in his hair, and he pulls me down to sit on his lap. All it takes is one look at my face and he knows what's coming.
“Don't be like this,” he whispers before I can even say anything.
“Like what? Upset? Pissed off? You promised me that I wouldn't be like all the rest.” My raised voice shakes with emotion.
“You're not, you're-”
“What, special? Then why don't I feel like it? Turns out I'm just as dispensable as the rest of them.”
“Please don't do this, Charlotte. Don't push me away," he pleads.
“I have to." Do I sound as miserable as he looks?
“No, you don't. You want this, too. I know you do."
“Maybe I do but I also know that when you break my heart I won't survive."
“I won't break your heart.” I jump slightly as his voice rises. “What are you so afraid of?" he grounds out in protest, green eyes pleading with me. His grip on me tightens and he pulls me into his body, which is tense from clinging on to me for all he is worth. A juddering sob bubbles up and chokes me but his chest muffles the sound, his body taking the impact.
“It's too late, Dominic. It’s best if we stay friends.” Regret mingles with the sobs and makes it hard to speak.
“Dammit, Charlotte,” he growls in my ear. “You're ending this when we've just got started.”
I try to extract myself from his arms, but he doesn't let me get far. Cupping my jaw in his hand, he tilts my head up to look at him. Confusion, hurt, and longing are all etched on his face, along with anger
His brow dips into a deep v as he grits his teeth. “This is bullshit! I won’t break your heart. You’ve said it yourself that we are more than friends. We nearly slept with each other last night, for God’s sake. Friends don’t have the same chemistry we do. I’m not going to stop trying to convince you that we should be together. We are fucking good together.” The vehemence in his voice startles me.
“You don’t know everything about me, Dominic,” I start but I'm not going to go into this now. It won’t make any difference anyway. Whatever was happening last night and over these past few months is over. Anger clouds his face as he stares at me, waiting for me to elaborate, but I don't.
“This isn't over. I. Am. Not. Letting. You. Go,” he promises, brushing his lips against mine one last time.
Despite wanting to sink into his kiss, I don't. It wouldn't be fair on either of us, so I just sit there. This is the reason I avoid relationships, always opting for one-night stands. But that isn't working anymore. Better to get out now than risk a broken heart later on.
My hands curl into tight fists at my side, to stop me from reaching out and touching him. As we break apart, the tears I’ve been holding back start to bubble to the surface.
Trying to maintain some level of dignity, I stand and turn away from him.
“See you around.” His hand rests briefly on my juddering shoulder, and he presses a kiss to the back of my head.
Once the door closes behind him, I throw myself on the bed and sob. All the hope I felt earlier when he said I was his and when he called me his girlfriend has disappeared. Now all I feel is despair and anger. Anger at myself for starting to believe that maybe, just maybe it might have worked out. What an idiot.
I crawl back under the covers and reach for my cell to call my mom. Call me a sap, but I want to hear her voice—for her to tell me it is okay and everything will work out. There is no answer at the house so I call her cell. Just as I'm about to hang up, she answers, sounding out of breath.
“Hi, honey, how are you?” There is mumbling in the background, a man’s voice. Great, she's with someone, and they're in bed. Eww, gross, I don't need that picture in my head.
“Hey.” I sound pathetic, and she hears it, too.
“What's wrong, Charlie?” Part of me is pleased that she can hear something is wrong, as if she does actually care.
“Nothing, I just wanted to talk to you.”
“Are you sure? Is it boy trouble?”
My laugh sounds forced. “No, of course not.” Why don't I just tell her the truth? Because then you'd hear all about her many experiences of being brokenhearted.
“Listen, honey, I know I've been busy lately, but I've got some news.”
“Okay,” I drag it out.
“Yes, I've been seeing someone, a counselor. I realized that I have some issues to deal with. Anyway, I am coming to see you.”
“Yeah,” I mumble.
“Yes, in a couple of weeks, and I'll tell you all about it.”
“Look forward to it.” It has been ages since I saw her. Maybe it is the way I am feeling, but right now, I really want my mom.
“I love you, Charlie. I'll see you soon.”
“Okay, Mom. I love you,” I whisper before I hang up.
Rolling over to face the wall, I curl into a ball. The tears start to fight their way out, and I let them.
Chapter Ten
Iris knows something is up when I wake and decide not to go to class. Those intelligent bright blue eyes narrow critically as she takes in my swollen puffy eyes. Not to mention the dark circles under them that no amount of concealer will cover up.
“Is everything okay?” She stands at the side of my bed with her lips pursed and, brow furrowed with concern as she regards me.
“No.” Rolling onto my back, I throw my arm over my head to stare blankly up at the ceiling.
“Will you tell me what’s happened?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m just really tired,” I say wearily, not wanting to have to get into it so early.
“You were asleep when I got in last night at like eight p.m. You’ve slept for nearly twelve hours.”
I pull the covers up closer to my ears. As much as I love Iris and know she’s only worried about me, I really just want to be left alone.
“Is it Dominic?” Her voice softens; it doesn't take a genius to figure out it has something to do with him.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” My lip wobbles when I finally look at her, everything blurs with tears as I silently plead with her to drop it.
Which she does. “Okay, but if you want to talk, you know where I am.” She bends down and squeezes my shoulder.
“Thank you,” I whisper and fight back the rush of tears because she is
being so nice to me.
“I forgot, a letter came for you. Here.” My face screws up, who has written to me? All my bills go to my mom’s and she isn’t one for writing. Iris hands me the letter on her way out the door.
“I’ll see you when I get back. If you need anything just let me know.” Unsure about leaving, she watches me until I nod then decides to go.
Once the door closes, I turn the envelope over in my hands. The address is typed and I’m none the wiser so I rip open the envelope and pull out a sheet of letter-sized paper. It’s been folded in half and a color photograph falls out onto my lap. Who would send me a photograph? Then I turn it over and clasp my hand to my mouth in horror.
Fuck. It’s a picture of me. Well, the old version. By the looks of it, it was taken at a party. I’m straddling some guy while he kisses down my neck. My head tilted away from the camera allowing him better access. The skimpy top I’m wearing barely contains my Wonderbra-encased breasts. It’s a stark reminder of the past I’m trying to escape—in full Technicolor glory.
My stomach rolls violently and shame floods my face at seeing myself like that. I don’t even remember this being taken, hardly surprising as I was no doubt completely trashed. Who is the guy? I have no recollection, not that it matters. The biggest question is who sent this? My hand shakes as I unfold the piece of paper that accompanies it. There is one line typed in the middle in bold letters.
Does your boyfriend know what a slut you are?
Throwing the photograph down on the covers, I scramble out of bed and run to the bathroom. My stomach heaves, but there is nothing in it to bring up. I kneel over the toilet for what feels like ages before I move to sit on the closed toilet seat. My forehead is clammy, dotted with beads of sweat as it falls into my hands.
Who the fuck would send this? It must be someone I went to school with…but who? Who knows I’m here? At least it won’t affect Dominic; he’s not my boyfriend anymore, certainly not after yesterday. I don’t need this on top of what happened with him. What can I do about it, apart from ignore it? Yeah, that’s what I’m going to do. Dominic doesn’t need to know, and if I ignore it, it will all go away, right?
By the time Iris comes back from her classes, I’ve hidden the photograph and the letter and pushed it to the back of my mind. I don’t want to think about it, much less see it again. Apart from going to the bathroom, I haven't moved out of bed all day. The thought of food turns my stomach, and all I want to do is sleep.
Iris leans over to feel my forehead like my mom used to when I was a child. “How are you feeling?” The sympathy in her voice makes me feel worse.
“Fine.” Maybe it’s because she’s being so kind or maybe I’m just feeling emotional, but I have to fight back the tears that are threatening.
“I saw Dominic.” My eyes jerk up to meet hers, unshed tears glistening in my eyes.
“He looks as miserable as you and won’t talk about it. What happened, Charlotte?”
“His ex-girlfriend turned up. Who is very attractive, by the way. She’s getting married and suggested a final fling.” A sob escapes me before the tears start silently sliding down my cheeks. Iris puts her arm around my shoulder and holds me, giving me time to get my tears under control.
“He turned her down, but it made me realize that I can’t do this. My heart will get broken, and that’s something I’d never recover from.” She holds me as I cry into her shoulder. I’ve never felt so small and vulnerable. Normally, I’m the strong one who doesn’t let anything bother me. Certainly not a guy. I hardly ever cry, and I’ve never shed a single tear over a guy before. For the first time, I’m hurting, and I can barely breathe past the pain lodged in my chest. I miss Dominic; how sad is that? We’ve only been together a short time, but I’ve fallen for him. And now it’s over before it ever really started.
“Charlotte, you can’t go through life being scared of getting hurt. You only know it’s real if it hurts. It sounds terrible, but if he has the capacity to hurt you then that’s how you know you feel something for him.” I stare at her. She seems to be making a lot of sense, but that is only part of the reason why I can’t do this. God, I am a terrible person. I’m not telling Iris the whole truth, either; I’m hiding it from both of them.
“Thank you,” I whisper as I fight to suppress another sob. I feel better just having spoken to her.
“Give him a chance. Whatever has happened, you can get past it. He cares for you, and I know you feel the same,” she assures me. Iris is more of an authority than I am; at least she has a boyfriend. She’s right; I know he cares for me. It’s gone way beyond him just wanting to sleep with me. After a long hug and crying into her chest, she gives me a final squeeze and moves off my bed. I’m glad she’s here. I would be lost without Iris.
• • •
All week I go out of my way to avoid Dominic and the union as much as possible. Between the extra shifts I pick up at the library and studying, I somehow manage it. He sends me a text every day. I reply, keeping it friendly, but I’m not ready to see him.
At the end of my shift on Thursday, I start to walk home, thinking I have successfully avoided him for another day. No such luck. I round the corner of the building and run smack bang into him. His hands reach out to steady me, and all the air is sucked out of my lungs when I look up into his green eyes. I hadn’t realized how much I missed seeing him or being near him until his smell surrounded me. His eyes are dark and brooding and when he rests his hands on my shoulders, the knot in my stomach eases a fraction.
“You’re avoiding me,” he says, looking at me with a cool glare.
“No, I’m not,” I squeak trying to avoid his gaze.
“Cut the crap, Charlotte. I know you are.” He keeps hold of my arm and starts walking me back to the dorm as if I’m a small child who is going to run away. I can’t deny I like having him touch me. It makes me feel safe and protected.
“I’m just really busy, that’s all.” My excuse sounds pathetic, even to my ears.
“I haven't seen you since Sunday morning. We were having a good time until Mia turned up. I explained it all to you. I shouldn't have made you leave, but I was so shocked at seeing her there.”
“I enjoyed our date, but it doesn’t change anything. I meant what I said. I can’t do this anymore.”
“What exactly can’t you do anymore?” His tight voice emphasizes each word. With a sigh, I hang my head. I don’t want to have to explain myself again. I hate having to say the words.
“This, us, being with you. It is too hard. We are supposed to be friends,” I say with exasperation.
“We’re more than friends and you know it. I want to be with you, and I’m not going to give up until you give in. I know you want this, too. Stop fighting it.” The color in his cheeks rises with his temper, and he narrows his eyes at me. He is about to say more when someone comes out of the door. I lunge for it, holding it open, ready to run inside and up the stairs.
“We’re not done talking about this. Don't think I’ve given up trying to prove to you we should be together,” he warns, leaning into me. His addictive smell swamps me, and I lean toward him slightly. My eyes close for a split second while I get a grip. All I want is to feel his arms around me and for him to make it okay, but I pull back, needing to put some distance between us.
“’Night, Dominic.” I slip through the door and head to the stairs. The minute I’m out of sight, I collapse against the wall, my heart pounding and my breath coming in short gasps. Damn him, why does he affect me like this? Why do I want him so much? Slowly, I climb the stairs and go straight to bed.
My mom arrives tomorrow, and I had better get a grip or she will know something is up. Dread fills me when I remember there is also that fucking letter and photograph that I’m trying to ignore. At least if I’m not with Dominic, whoever sent it doesn't have a reason to send any more.
• • •
Classes drag on Friday. I’m miserable and can’t concentrate on anything except how
it’s all gone to hell with Dominic. Part of me is excited about my mom coming to visit. Although I've spoken to her on the phone the odd time, it isn’t the same. She always seems to be busy, and I haven’t seen her since I left home.
Knowing she will be here any minute, I rush frantically around our room putting my clothes away and trying to tidy up. Iris’s side of the room is always tidy, so it is just mine I have to worry about. Once I’ve made my bed, I sit down to wait for her. But the minute I stop, my mind turns to Dominic. He looked as gorgeous as ever and possibly even sexier when he stopped me at lunch to remind me they were playing tonight. Like I could forget with Iris’s constant reminders. Until last night, I had gone out of my way not to see him or speak to him. He is persistent, though, I’ll give him that. He doesn’t give up easily—something I don’t know whether to be pleased about or not.
Iris knows some of what is going on with us, but I’ve not told her everything and I’ve not said anything about the photograph. If I’m honest, I don’t want her to see what I was like then. She’s so different from who I was then, and I don’t want her to think less of me. She’s a true friend, and for all she warned me about Dominic, she saw how happy we were together. She has been trying to get me to talk to him for days now.
A soft knock at the door signals my mom’s arrival, and I jump off the bed in a rush to answer it. Mom stands there looking gorgeous as usual—freshly highlighted hair, manicured nails, and immaculate outfit. She opens her arms, and I throw myself into them and hug her tightly, inhaling the familiar smell of her perfume. Chanel No. 19 has been her preferred scent since I was a little girl and I used to watch her get ready for a date. She would always give me a little spray of her perfume when she was putting it on.
“I’ve missed you, too, honey.” She laughs and pushes my hair out my face so she can look at me properly. The urge to cry threatens to overwhelm me. There is something about seeing her and that small action that makes me feel like a little girl again. Until now, I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed her.