by Jenny Siegel
All cried out but not feeling any better for it, the only thing I want to do is crawl back into bed and sleep until this all blows over. In fact, I feel worse, totally and utterly drained and mentally exhausted. But I know that’s not going to happen, so I have to suck it up and deal with it. The crumpled envelope catches my eye as I wipe them on the bottom of my t-shirt. Reaching over I pick up the envelope, smoothing it out, I rip it open and reach inside to pull out yet another photograph. It’s more of the same, but the letter accompanying it makes my blood run cold. Trouble in Paradise? Time is running out. What the fuck does that mean? I can’t ignore this one, but I hastily shove it into the glove compartment. It will have to be added to the list of things to address once my exams are over.
The library is quiet, but I find a private study room anyway. Locking the door, I pull out all my books I threw in the truck after class yesterday. Exams start on Monday and somehow I manage to put all this mess with Dominic out of my mind and concentrate on the books in front of me. It isn’t until the dull thump of a headache takes over that I call it a day. My cell phone kept buzzing with text messages so I turned it off. It isn’t until I’m in the car that I switch it back on. Message after message is waiting for me, all of them from Dominic.
I miss you.
Where are you?
I need to know you’re safe.
Call me
I know you stayed with Iris.
For fuck sake Charlie, where are you?
I love you.
At the last one, hot unwanted tears fill my eyes until the screen in front of me blurs and I can’t see it anymore. I let out a huge hiccupping sob. Dammit. I hate feeling this way, so helpless and confused. I hate that despite how angry I am, all I want is to go to him and have him take me in his arms and tell me everything’s going to be okay. Does that make me weak?
• • •
The next day, I drag myself to school but only because I have two exams. I’ll be pleased when they’re out of the way. For the whole day, I successfully manage to avoid everyone, until I leave. Dominic leaning against my car as I weaver through the parking lot, suffering from a two day hangover and looking rough. Serves him right.. Even though I frown when I see him, my heart betrays me by beating faster. How is it that he manages to still look gorgeous even when he is hungover? His hair is all tousled, as if he’s just rolled out of bed, green eyes tired but still as piercing as he watches my approach. Light stubble on his chin just adds to his sexy disheveled look. My heart double beats just looking at him, and it’s only been a couple of days. How the hell am I going to survive?
“Why are you here?” I demand, keeping the wobble from my voice and my face expressionless.
“When are you coming home?” he asks, concern etched on his face.
“None of your business.”
“It is my business. I love you, and I want you to come home .”
“I can’t handle this now. I have my last exam tomorrow, and I need to study.” I pull open my car door as I brush him off. I throw my books into my passenger seat, start the car, and gun the engine before pulling out of the parking lot. He is still standing in the same spot, staring after me as I cast a glance in my mirror but I force my gaze straight ahead and keep driving.
Bryan and Iris are out when I arrive back at their apartment. I am pulling out my books when hammering on the door makes me jump. I stifle a little scream and sit rooted to the spot debating whether to answer it. The hammering begins again.
Shit.
“Charlie, I know you’re in there. Open the door,” Dominic’s angry voice shouts through the door.
Fuck.
In anger, I pull open the door of Iris and Bryan’s apartment to see Dominic leaning against the doorframe, his hand jammed into the front pockets of his jeans. White t-shirt showing off his tattoos, but even with his head dipped, the scowl etched on his face is obvious.
My heart jumps into my throat. As usual, he is a sight for sore eyes, and I should know how this works by now. Like the last time when I tried avoiding him, it is too hard. I love him and I ache to feel his arms around me and to hold me close. For him to touch me and quiet all the thoughts fighting inside me, to make it all go away. But I’m stubborn and I won’t let him see how hurt I am. So, I mentally pull myself together and slip on my ‘I’m fine’ mask. But I’m not. Inside, I’m falling apart. The knot in my stomach is so painful that I just want to curl up and give in to it.
I don’t notice him move until I feel his lips brush over the top of my head and tingles travel down my body so my breathing falters.
“I’m having déjà vu. Why is it that I always have to come chasing after you?” His eyes spit fire. Breaking away, I turn and he follows me into the room and shuts the door.
“You slept with that girl.” My voice trembles and tears start to blur his image. “You were wasted, and you probably don’t remember. I know what that’s like,” I say with bitterness.
“I wouldn’t do that to you, no matter how drunk I was. I don’t cheat.” He glares down at me, and I force myself to meet his furious stare, willing him to go. “Do you not even trust me enough to know I wouldn’t do that to you?” He crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at me on the sofa. Moving to kneel in front of me, he leans over and cups my jaw forcing me to look at him. Bloodshot eyes really aren’t a good look for him.
“Like you trust me, you mean.” My voice drips with sarcasm.
“That guy, at the bar,” he grumbles and shifts to sit beside me.
“Was just talking to me. The same way girls talk to you. Like the girl I saw coming out of that room.”
“Nothing happened.”
“That’s not what it looked like.”
“It didn’t,” he grounds out. “You’re doing it again.” I raise my eyebrow in question, waiting for him to clarify. “Pushing me away, ending things before you give them a chance, as soon as things get tough.”
“I’m not ending it,” I say quietly, but that’s exactly what it feels like—the beginning of the end—and I can’t let that happen. We can’t let that happen. “You’re a fucking hypocrite,” I blurt out and his head jerks to the side, green eyes blaze with anger as he stares at me.
“How’d you get that?”
“You’ve been distant for weeks. Not coming home, storming out. What the fuck is going on with you?” I twist in my seat to look at him, slouched on the sofa, long legs stretched out in front of him. He tips his head to look skywards and pushes his hand through his hair. With a sigh, he leans forward and rests his elbows on his thighs.
“All this shit with my dad and how he was at the wedding got to me. The gigs and the thought of going on the road without you,” he rushes out, “These fucking photographs are getting to me, not to mention that prick Jason pissing me off. Now you seem to be waiting for me to leave you. It all just got to me.” He pauses, blowing out a frustrated breath. “I didn’t sleep with her, Charlie.” There’s no obvious sign he’s lying and I never did peg Dominic as a cheater. But everything else he’s laid out on the table are obviously a problem for him—my past is a problem for him, despite what he assures me. Jason’s comments about my past and those fucking photographs, which perfectly illustrate everything that is wrong with my past, are a problem. Throw in this fucked up nonsense with his dad and my head is spinning.
“I need time to think, Dominic-” I take a deep breath, exhaling unevenly. “You said my past wasn’t a problem, but when you’re confronted with it, it’s a different story. How many fucking times, it was long before I met you. I can't help my past, and I'm tired of being ashamed of it.” He reaches for my hand, holding it tightly, and I almost cave then and there on the sofa. His touch alone makes the knot in my stomach start to unravel and my brain start to believe it will all be okay. But it won’t; we can’t sweep this under the rug like everything else that has happened lately. It’s not enough to ignore it or carry on as usual and wait for something else to go wrong. I need time to thin
k, to get my head around everything that has been happening and what he’s said.
“If you can't handle it, tell me now and you can walk away,” I say evenly and try to keep myself from breaking down. Panic flashes across his face, and I feel it seize my heart.
“No. You don’t get to do this. Charlie,” he protests in a strangled voice.
“I had to watch Mia at that wedding and listen to all your friends’ stories with a polite smile on my face-”
“But it’s you I want.”
“You said I was oversensitive when it came to Mia.” Inwardly, I curse myself because a crack shows in my armor and a traitorous tear slips down my cheek, but I make no move to brush it away. “Your dad saying it could have been you she was marrying. But I didn’t push you away. I accept your past, but when you’re faced with the reality of mine, you act like this. It’s not fair.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been a dick. Will you come back with me?’ he asks; the pain in his eyes tangible. It makes me feel worse, but I shake my head and watch as his face drops.
“You said I wouldn’t be like all the rest, but that’s how I feel. In fact, I feel worse than that.” My voice cracks.
“You are not like all the rest, dammit.” His voice rises. “Do you still not get it? I love you.”
“I need time to think, Dominic.” I withdraw my hands and the heartbroken look on his face kills me.
“Fucking hell, Charlie, I won’t let you do this to us. I will not let you push me away again when I know you love me. This is not over; I won’t let you leave me.” His eyes flash with hurt and fury.
More tears start to trickle down my cheeks as he waits for me to say something. Anything. But I don’t. With a sigh of defeat, he leans forward and kisses me softly, his lips searing into mine. Even though I want to grab him and hold him to me, never let him go, I don’t stop him as he rises slowly from the sofa and walks slowly towards the door. Giving me time to change my mind and tell him to stay. With my heart splitting in two, I watch as he leaves and I’m left all alone. It takes everything I have not to chase after him. Why am I so fucking stubborn that I have to push him away? This is history repeating itself, and I can’t let that happen. The thought of him and that girl makes me physically sick, but I can’t bury my head in the sand. I need to deal with this. I don’t know what to think, but I need to sort my shit out before I lose him.
My cell rings, the sound of “Good Girls” by 5 Seconds of Summer penetrates the suffocating silence, and I suppress the urge to hurl the phone across the room.
Instead I answer it. “Hi, Mom.” I try to inject a little enthusiasm into my voice, but it falls flat. It’s not that I don’t want to speak to her, but I can’t really concentrate.
“How are your exams? Nearly finished.” Her sing-song voice is full of excitement, and I’m a little amazed that she knows when my exams are.
“Last one tomorrow.”
“You all set for the weekend?”
“Yep.” But my heart sinks when I think about her wedding coming up next weekend. I’d conveniently forgotten about it, thanks to everything going on with Dominic. Shit, what am I going to do about the wedding?
“And how is Dominic?”
“Fine.”
“Is he ready for the weekend?”
“Yep.” I fib because I do not have a clue whether he’ll still be coming with me.
“We’ll meet you at the hotel.”
“Okay.”
“Right, enough. What’s happened?” she asks, irritated by my lack of enthusiasm.
“Nothing.”
“Tell me what’s happened to turn you into a monosyllabic, moody teenager.”
“I am a teenager.”
“Don’t get smart with me.” I have the feeling it wouldn’t do to piss her off, so I tell her.
“It’s Dominic,” I say with a sigh.
“What about him?”
“Well…” I take a deep breath then launch into the whole story. My mom is silent for the duration; she just lets me get it all out in the open before I stop for breath. There is a long pause once I’ve finished.
“Do you trust him?” Her soft, calm voice makes me listen.
“Yeah,” I confess, uncertain of what she’s getting at.
“I think you know deep down that he didn’t do this.”
“You think?”
“I do and so do you. I also don’t think he would have managed, given the amount he had to drink.” She says, thinking of the practicalities.
“That’s true.” I hadn’t thought about that point, and I’m a bit unnerved my mom did.
“There are a lot of jealous people out there. Dominic is a good-looking boy, plus he’s in a band. None of those boys are short of females lusting after them. From what I know of him, he wouldn’t do it because he loves you.”
“I know,” I wail, as it hits me like a sledgehammer, I’ve made a major fuck of things, again.
“Do you? That girl...” She pushes out a breath. “She probably saw a chance while you were away, but Dominic wouldn’t do that.”
“I guess.”
“You need to stop looking for a reason to push him away. He’s not going to hurt you. Make it right and don’t leave it too long,” she warns me, and it’s liked déjà vu.
“Okay, Mom.” She has given me even more to think about.
I can hear a muffled voice in the background. My mom says, “Just a second.” Her hand covers the receiver, but there is a coldness in her voice that makes me wonder who she’s talking to.
“I have to go.” She clips out, and I feel sorry for whoever is with her.
“Okay, I love you.”
“Love you too, Charlie. I know you’ll do the right thing.” Her voice softens, and I feel better that I spoke with her.
Long after she hangs up, I sit staring into space. My brain whirls with lots of fleeting thoughts. The dominant one being, I need to speak to Dominic. This thing over the weekend aside, he’s still been distant with me and I want to get to the bottom of it. I head straight for the shower, the warm water soothing me. It doesn't ease my headache though; my head is buzzing. I slip into bed early, partly cause I’m avoiding Iris and Bryan. Iris tried to talk to me last night after she’d picked up clothes for me. But I wouldn’t listen. Now there is someone else mad at me.
Chapter Seventeen
When I leave the sanctuary of my temporary bedroom, I don’t bother with breakfast and head straight for the door. Iris is waiting and follows me out to the car without saying a word and climbs into the passenger seat. There is none of her usual happy chatter, and as soon as we are in the car, she turns to me with a scowl on her face.
“What is it, Iris?” I ask not beating around the bush. She pauses, psyching herself up to say something. Iris always tends to ramble when she is nervous because she doesn’t like confrontation, but she isn’t doing any of this, today she is getting straight to the point.
“What are you playing at?” she asks bluntly, the sympathy she felt for me has long gone. It’s because I made her go to the apartment and collect some fresh clothes for me. Then refused to listen when she tried to tell me how miserable Dominic looked.
“Excuse me?” I turn to look at her. Her cheeks are flushed pink with anger and her deep blue eyes flash.
“With Dominic, when are you going to stop pushing him away? I don’t know what happened to you in the past or who hurt you, but Dominic loves you and he wouldn’t cheat on you.”
“Tell me how you really feel,” I mutter and my sarcastic reply earns me a glare.
“You are my best friend, Charlotte Ross, and I love you, but you need to stop this.” We sit in stubborn silence before she turns to me again.
“Do you think he slept with her?”
“What?”
“Come on. I’m asking you if deep down you think he did?”
I tip my head back and look at the roof of my car, stalling while I try to sort through my jumbled thoughts. Exasperated, I push out a
breath. “No. All right, I don’t think he did.”
“Good, so what’s the problem?”
“There were other things.”
“Like what?”
“Like him not coming home, storming out after I got another one of those fucking photographs.” As soon as the words are out my mouth, I realize my mistake. Iris’ blue eyes grow wide and her mouth pops open.
“What photographs,” she asks in an eerily quiet, calm voice.
“Shit, I didn’t mean to tell you that.”
“Obviously not, but you’ve said it now, so spill.” She crosses her arms over her chest and waits, an expectant look on her face.
There is no way I can get away with not telling her. Actually, it might help. My strategy of bottling it up and hoping it all goes away hasn’t worked so well.
“Last year, right before we started dating, someone sent me a photograph.”
“What was it?” she asks in a hushed voice.
“Me, at some party trashed with a guy.” I skip over the content of the picture as quick as possible.
“Who?” she gasps.
But when I glare at her she shrinks back a little. “I don’t know.”
“Ah, okay.” Looking sheepish she motions for me to carry on.
“The second was of the football team, crosses over the faces of the ones I’d supposedly slept with.”
“What did Dominic say?”
“That’s the thing. He was supportive until we went to see my mom and met my future stepbrother, who gives me the creeps. Dominic ran into him and another guy from school, and I don’t know what they said to him, but I can’t imagine it was complimentary. Then when we came home, I got another photograph and Dominic stormed out.” I shake my head, hating to go over all this.