by H. Maloney
Well. She may be right. I followed my heart, much to my detriment, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. “So, what do I do now? What can I do now?”
“Hello, McFly! Stop trying to put this on your shoulders. He’s got to come to you. You keep going on with life. He’s the one who has to decide what to do, not you.”
“But what if he decides to do nothing?” It hurts to say. What if he decides I’m not worth it? I don’t say those words, but they’re there, nonetheless.
She shakes her head slowly, “Then that’s a decision that he’s going to have to live with, not you. You go on with a clear conscience and he misses out on the chance of a lifetime.”
I smile sadly. Maybe. But it really doesn’t help.
***
I told Wiley that Lily was in town, and he covered my shifts for the next two days until she had to go back to school. It was great having her here. We went out and tried new restaurants and got lost in the Galleria. We stayed in and watched chick flicks and drank too much wine. It was the perfect way to relax and spend time with her again. We didn’t talk anymore about Declan; it felt too much like beating a dead horse.
When she was packing up her car to head out again, I got choked up. It may be another year before I see her again. That’s way too freaking long.
“Love you, Maggs,” she says, giving me a hug.
“Love you too, Lily,” I respond, holding her tight.
She pulls away first. “Don’t forget what I said. I’m wise and shit.”
I laugh through the sadness. “Yeah, yeah. Drive safe.”
CHAPTER 18
MEG
I do take Lily’s words to heart though; this is not a problem with me, so it’s nothing I can fix. I’m at work a few weeks later when I see Declan for the first time since the incident. That’s what I’ve been calling it—‘the incident.’ I haven’t gone back to the gym, content to let it be his fault if I get fat. I just haven’t had it in me to face him again after that. Maybe I’ll never get over it, or maybe I just need a little more time, but whatever the case, I know I can’t do it now.
He sits down the bar from me while I’m busy serving other customers. I only know he’s there because I can feel his stare. Before I can make my way down there though, Wiley spots him and takes a seat next to him. I couldn’t be more grateful; I was not looking forward to the one-on-one post mortem. When I finally make my way towards them, I paste a placid, ‘nope, no hurt feelings here’ smile on my face and issue a standard greeting. “Hey, guys, what’ll it be?”
I’m politely ignoring Declan’s brooding stare that doesn’t seem to want to leave me and looking only at Wiley. Safe, comforting, honorary brother Wiley. His face already has a wide smile on it as he turns to me. He’s been doing that a lot lately, smiling. Ever since he found out his new status as father-to-be, he looks like the Earth is his personal Heaven. I’m so happy for him. My smile morphs into something more genuine.
“Hey, sweetheart. Couple of beers here.”
“You got it,” and I set about filling their order, wondering why Declan is here now. Is it to pretend nothing happened? Just carry on like we used to and be friends? I don’t know that I can do that. I’ve reconciled over not having him in my life in a significant capacity, but to have him in a shallow one? A surface-deep mockery of friendship? Not a chance.
When I place the glasses in front of them and go to walk away, Wiley lightly grasps my wrist. “Hey? Did you hear me?”
I look up from his hand to his face. He looks confused and concerned. “Huh?” Inner monologues, man. These things are rendering me so oblivious I’m going to walk into a door. Again.
“I asked if you’re okay. You’ve seemed a little out of it lately.” My eyes quickly spring to Declan and back, gauging to see if I can play this off as being sick or not. His piercing gaze says he can see right through me. Damn.
I clear my throat, trying to buy some time to come up with something remotely plausible. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired, haven’t been sleeping well. I think I need a new mattress. It’s getting a little lumpy these days. Wakes me up every time I turn over,” I babble, barely restraining from smacking myself on my forehead. Clearly, I needed more time if a lumpy mattress was the best I could come up with.
Wiley buys it though, sweet, caring man that he is. “Well, when you find a new one, let me know and we can get it to your apartment for you.” Oh, man. The guilt is going to drown me. “Right, Declan? Maybe we can put some of your pretty muscles to use, show they’re not just for picking up chicks.” He laughs at his own gag. Declan just grunts and I feel the ice enter my heart again. I hadn’t even thought about that. Has he been with other girls since me? Who am I kidding? I’m sure he has. I obviously held no claim over him. I scoff at myself. Stupid Meg.
“Hey, where’s your logo shirt?” Wiley asks curiously.
I look down, trying to refocus on what he’s saying. Oh, right, I have a plain black tank top on instead of The Seventh Circle logo shirt that is my uniform. “I don’t know. It’s the strangest thing, I went to look for one this afternoon and couldn’t find one. As in any of them. Dirty or clean. I’ve been trying to rack my brain as to what I did with them.” I shrug. “I seem to be doing that a lot lately. Misplacing things. I don’t know where I put my keys when I got home yesterday, so I had to take a cab here today. Luckily, Caitlyn was able to drop off her key to my place earlier when I realized they were gone. I think I’m going senile.” I give a half smile. Seriously, that’s my best guess. That or I’ve been too distracted moping.
“Is there anything else that’s gone missing?” Declan finally breaks his silence.
My eyes meet his, but I can’t hold his gaze. I direct my answer to the dartboard on the far wall behind him. “Yes and no. I keep leaving things in places I don’t normally, like my corkscrew was in the wrong drawer the other day and I found my robe in the closet instead of the bathroom.” It really is the strangest thing.
“You’re sure no one’s breaking in and taking your things?”
I laugh. “Nothing stays gone long. You think someone is rearranging my stuff?”
Wiley catches on to Declan’s vein of questioning whether he realizes the extent of Declan’s knowledge or not. He gives me a meaningful look. “It’s not so impossible. Some people are real creepers, Meg.” His gaze is pointed.
I sober up and look at the two men in front of me, both thinking identical thoughts behind dark expressions. I would say it’s Ben, but honestly I’ve done stuff like this before, and I tell them that. “I don’t think there’s anything sinister in this. This is not the first time I’ve done something like this. My short-term memory isn’t that great. I probably left the shirts at the laundromat. And my keys, I let myself into the apartment with them and then they went missing. It’s much more likely I got distracted and didn’t follow my routine of dropping them inside the door. Relax, ya’ll, they’ll turn up.” This is, of course, directed to Wiley.
“Let me drive you home.”
My head spins to Declan as Wiley slaps his hand on the table. “Perfect. You can take her now.”
My head spins back to Wiley. Shit, I’m going to get whiplash at this rate.
“I can’t leave now, Wiley! It’s only eleven.”
His hand reaches forward to rest on mine. “You haven’t been sleeping. That’s your own words, Meg.” He points a finger at me with his free hand, halting my argument. Crap. More guilt. “It’s not busy tonight. Melanie can handle it from here. Go home.” He gives my hand a squeeze then stands from the stool. “Make sure she gets home safe,” he directs to Declan, who nods in return before Wiley walks off.
Great. Just fucking great.
I look to Declan and he raises his eyebrows at me. “Ready?”
I huff, annoyed at him, Wiley, and the whole situation really, but mostly I’m annoyed at myself. I’m the one who got me into this—or, more specifically, my mouth did. Stupid mouth. “Yeah, give me a minute.” I grab
my purse from behind the bar and let Melanie know I’m headed out. She’s a good sport and just tells me to have a good night. God bless understanding coworkers.
When I climb into Declan’s truck, I’m assaulted by good memories. Memories that make me want to get this over with as soon as possible. I lean my head back and close my eyes, hopefully discouraging any conversation from him. I have a feeling he came into the bar alone for a reason, and I’m not sure I want to know what that is.
“I was hoping we would get the chance to talk.” Dammit. Maybe I should have tried to write ‘Do Not Disturb’ on my forehead instead. I look out the window and briefly consider jumping from the moving car. But that would put me in the middle of a highway in the dark when I’m wearing all black. Rather than succumbing to being roadkill, I heave a sigh and accept my tortuous fate for the next fifteen minutes.
“Oh, yeah? And what about exactly?” I ask, deciding to play defense on this.
He comes to a stop at the red light and turns to look at me. I can’t decipher what he’s trying to tell me with the look, so I just cross my arms across my chest and wait. He turns forward again and rubs the scruff of his beard with one hand. I continue to wait patiently. Sort of. My foot starts tapping silently against the floor mat, but he can’t see.
“About the last time we hung out.”
My foot stops tapping and my muscles seize. “What about it?” I grit out from my locked jaw.
“I just… I just wanted to know if we could be friends again. We both spend too much time at Seventh Circle and I wanted to clear the air of… awkwardness.”
Called it.
The hollowness in my chest fills with a slow, simmering rage. How dare he. He wants to ‘clear the air’ so he doesn’t have to feel awkward at his favorite hangout? Fuck that! That asshole can continue to feel awkward, or better yet, avoid me and my place of employment altogether. I don’t give a flying monkey shit if my feelings for him make him uncomfortable.
A sudden thought grips me. “Is this because you haven’t been able to pick anyone up? Am I holding you back on your player status?” I start laughing, because what else am I supposed to do?
He pulls to the side of the road and kills the engine, gripping my forearm as he looks at me intently. “Meg, shut the fuck up. That’s not it.” I yank my arm from his grip. I can’t be touched by him right now; I just know I would crack more than I have already if I were to allow him contact. “You’re funny, and a great time to be around. I don’t want to lose that because you’re—”
“Because what? Because I’m in love with you? Because I want more from you than a good fuck or a fun hour?”
He throws his head back against the headrest and grips his hair in his fingers. “Will you just fucking stop?”
“Stop what? I need some specifics here.” I’m unhinged, I know it, but I can’t stop now. He’s the one who forced this situation. I was content to avoid him until I fucking died, so now he pays the price of all the rage, confusion, and hurt I feel right now. I stare at him directly, no longer afraid to meet his gaze, my fury giving me courage.
He turns to me again, his own temper flaring, hands slicing through the air in emphasis. “Stop fucking doing this! We were having fun—a great fucking time, actually. I thought you knew what it was. I thought you knew it wasn’t going to end in a proposal.”
“Oh, get off your high horse, Declan! I wasn’t expecting marriage. I just wasn’t expecting the fucking anger that I got. I didn’t realize how someone loving you could inspire that bullshit reaction.”
“Of course you don’t. Don’t you understand I didn’t fucking want it?”
I nod sadly, my anger fleeing as fast as it came on. I face away from him, out the front windshield, and watch the light cycle at the intersection while sharp pains stab at my heart. “Yeah, Declan. I got that. Loud and clear.”
His anger tempers itself at my mood change. He’s so responsive to my needs and feelings; I don’t get why this is so hard for him. I feel a tear trek down my cheek but ignore it. If only he would open himself up to the idea of us, of love. We could be so happy together… but that’s a pipe dream, and I need to stop posing ‘if only’ questions. They won’t get me anywhere.
He leans forward and grips my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him. He uses his thumb to wipe away my stray tear. “Why can’t we just go back, Meg? To what it was before that day? It was fucking fantastic.”
I almost pity him. Almost. “Declan, don’t you get it? I’ve felt that way for a long time before I told you. I was just hoping that, by the time I told you, you would feel that way for me too.” I shrug and bring my hands to grips his wrists, holding on to him for what I know will be the last time. “I can’t go back to when I had to hide what I felt from you. That’s not fair to me, and it’s not fair to you.” I lean forward and kiss him, melting into him and his quick response, reveling in the feeling of perfection.
When I lean back, I pull his hands from my face. “We don’t move forward from this, Declan. There is no us going forward, friends or otherwise. We move on as strangers to one another.” I stare into his eyes, making sure he absorbs what I’m saying, because I won’t let myself be put in this position again. I shouldn’t have to defend my feelings, and I damn sure shouldn’t be asked to pretend they don’t exist. “I have to protect myself, and this is just the way it has to be.”
He’s still staring at me when I finally resituate myself in the seat and face forward once again. “Please take me home, Declan. I’m tired.” I’m exhausted. I’ve had my heart sent through a meat grinder, and I just want to crawl into bed and forget the last few months. Maybe one day, I’ll be grateful I took this chance on love, but I just don’t see it happening anytime soon.
I hold myself together until he pulls up outside my apartment. He walks me to my door and I can’t even look at him as I close my door quietly, locking it audibly. Only then, when I sink down the door after I hear his footsteps disappear, do I let my tears loose. For the next hour, I let the dam I’ve built up on sheer self-preservation crumble. I let my pain out with every gut-wrenching sob, hoping that finally releasing the hold on my control will be the cathartic cleansing I so desperately need in order to heal.
CHAPTER 19
MEG
It’s been a couple weeks since the encounter with Declan and I’ve gone numb. Ever since that night, I just can’t seem to shake the deadened feeling that permeates my being. I can’t even muster up a polite smile for work. Last night, Dennis patted my hand in understanding. “It’ll be all right, sugar. He’ll come around.” I just walked away. I didn’t even have the energy to ask how he knew a man was responsible for doing this to me. Didn’t care enough, frankly.
I haven’t even spoken to my best friend about it. I’m sure Wiley told Allie that Declan brought me home, so she knows something happened. Luckily, she knows me well enough to realize I need this funk for right now.
Thankfully, I found my keys—in the silverware drawer, of all places—so I didn’t need any more unwanted rides.
Tonight when I got home, I walked straight to the shower and waited for it to warm up on the hottest setting, my lower back killing me. I had to use a pair of my old boots since I couldn’t find my current ones with the cushy sole inserts. I just stand there, waiting for the hot water to bring feeling back to my body. I finally cut the water when it starts to cool off, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around myself. When I open the door to the hallway, I freeze and my skin prickles so bad it starts to itch. There’s low music coming from the living room. Now I know I’ve been forgetful lately, but I am damn sure I did not stop to even turn on a light switch on my way to the bathroom from the front door tonight. The longstanding numbness drains from my body, replaced by alertness; every beat of my heart sounds loud and clear to my ears in the muted room.
My heart skips a beat. There’s something not right here. I feel it in my marrow. My gaze snaps to the corner of my bedroom where my peripheral caught moveme
nt among the shadows. The voice I hear next has me sick to my stomach.
“Maggie. I’m so glad you’re home.”
CHAPTER 20
MEG
No, no, no, no, no, please, no. Don’t let it be him.
It’s obvious my prayers go unanswered when Ben steps forward into the light cast from the living room.
“B-B-Ben.” I take a steadying breath. Panic won’t get me anywhere with him. He has no heart and won’t be moved by fear—if anything, it’ll feed him. I clear my throat and steel myself. “Ben,” I say, more clearly this time. “What are you doing here?”
He cocks an eyebrow at me and looks downright amused. “Funny you should say that because I was going to ask you the same thing.” He takes a step forward, and I take an equal one back without even meaning to. He grins evilly. He knows he’s got me.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do in this situation. I know the textbooks say I should play into his delusion and pretend I’m happy he’s here, that he’s less likely to hurt me if he thinks his feelings are returned. On the other hand, I don’t know that he’s suffering from a delusion. I don’t have a degree in psychology or anything, but you used to be able to see it on his face. Ben used to derive real pleasure from his emotional torture. Even now, my fear is so thick he can probably smell the adrenaline rushing through my system, and he’s pleased by it. The smile on his face would give the joker a run for his money. He’s a sociopath with a fixation.
I debate for a second longer before I decide to go with option one, if for no other reason than he won’t expect it. I can catch him off guard the same way he did me. Taking another deep breath, I wrap my towel tighter and start on my plan of attack.
“I was hoping you would turn up sooner rather than later, Ben. I’ve missed you.” My lips curve into a small smile.