Cillian: Just staring at a blank canvas.
Midge: Studio?
Cillian: Yep.
“Okay, he’s at his studio,” I tell London.
“You heading over there?”
“Yeah,” I say with a nod. “Just gonna get it over with.”
“All right. Well, I’ll probably just go stay in Royce’s apartment upstairs and wait for him to get off. Take a Lyft. Don’t walk.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be safe,” I say with a small grin.
“Text me later.”
“Okay. Bye, girl.”
As soon as I’m outside his studio space, I start to get nervous. I’ve never been the bearer of bad news before.
I know Zoe, because we went to school together, but we’ve never been friends. You know how sometimes you just don’t click with people, and it’s not really for any specific reason, except that you hate everything about them? Well, that’s how I feel about her. She’s always annoyed me. Her voice, the way she twirls a lock of hair around her finger when she talks, and how she always changes who she is depending on who she’s around.
I’m aware she’s not too fond of me either, but I’m fine with that. However, Cillian is my friend, and has been since elementary school, and I need to tell him what I know. Not because I hate Zoe, because if he were with anybody else, he’d still deserve to know the truth.
With a deep breath, I rub my palms over my jeans and then knock. Cill’s studio has two large windows on either side of the door, but he’s blacked them out, so nobody can look in. I can understand that. People are constantly walking down this road, and I wouldn’t want them to be able to watch me either.
When he doesn’t come to the door, I pound even harder. Finally, I hear the thud of his boots hitting the floor as he approaches.
The look he has when the door is yanked open would probably scare most people away. Not me, though.
“It’s about time. Jeez. I could’ve been abducted out here,” I say, pushing past him.
His face changes. The scowl is replaced with a grin. “Nobody’d abduct you, Midge. And if they did—”
“They’d bring me back? Yep. My mom used to say that all the time.”
He smirks and shoves his paint covered hands in his pockets. “What’re you doing here?”
I don’t bother walking around and trying to get a look at his work, because I know he wouldn’t want that. Instead, I move to the front corner where there’s a couple foldable chairs.
“I just wanted to come talk to you,” I reply, my stomach tightening at the thought of potentially breaking his heart.
“Okay,” he says, dragging out the word like he’s confused. “You never come here.”
“I know.” I allow my eyes to roam over the small room. The fluorescent lights are bright, but besides his painting necessities, these two chairs, and beer and soda cans, the room is empty. The harsh lights highlight the bare walls and the flickering one in the corner makes me uneasy. I don’t know how he can spend so much time here. “I think you need a new studio.”
He laughs and sits in the chair next to me. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“Well, I don’t know. It’s drab. There’s no color in here. Nothing. For an artist, this is like purgatory. And that fucking light is driving me insane.”
Cill grins at me. “I see.”
“Anyway, that’s not why I’m here.”
He settles into his chair, leaning back and letting his long legs stretch out in front of him as he watches me. “Figured not. Must be important. What’s up?”
“Well, uh,” I start, gazing around the room for something to focus on besides his face. “I thought you should…well, I wanted to tell you that…um.”
“Midge.”
“Yeah?” I answer, looking back into his eyes.
“Spill it.”
“Zoe. She’s cheating on you.”
After the words are out, I pinch my lips together and hold my breath. I continue to stare at his face, unsure of what his reaction will be, but ready for anything. The change is nearly imperceptible. Had I not had my eyes glued to him, I wouldn’t have noticed the slight widening of his eyes, though it was brief. His jaw clenches, and I can nearly see all the thoughts he’s having flash behind his eyes.
Cill sits up and leans his elbows on his knees. “With who?”
I shake my head and offer up a pitiful frown. “I don’t know who it is.”
“You saw them?”
I nod once.
“Did she see you?”
“No. They were…well, do you want to know?” He thinks about it for a second and then nods. “They were making out in front of Lucio’s. I was going in for lunch, and I guess they were just leaving.”
He’s nodding his head while clenching his fists. “What’s he look like?”
“Oh, pft. Awful. I mean, really, Cill. Zoe is stupid for cheating on you. This guy looked stuffy and boring. A plain, tan suit and hair that had way too much gel in it. You’re a thousand times better than that guy.”
“Sounds like everything I’m not,” he replies, lifting up his tattooed arms and gesturing at his jeans and T-shirt. It’s amazing how cheating can make even the best looking people feel insecure. Cillian is beyond hot, and more than that, he’s such a good guy.
“Seriously, Cill. This is not about you. She’s dumb and I don’t know, blind? You’re great. Really.”
He shakes his head. “Does anybody else know?”
I bite down on my bottom lip. “Well, that’s kind of why I wanted to tell you tonight. I saw some pictures Ava Delvechio uploaded, and Zoe and this guy are in the background of a couple of them. I think it’s just pure coincidence, but with all the tagging people do on Facebook, someone else may see them. Small town, you know? Word will spread fast.”
“Just fucking great.” He stands up and knocks the chair down in the process. “I gotta call her.”
“Yeah, of course,” I say, getting up and grabbing my purse. “I’m sorry, Cill. Really. You don’t deserve this.”
“Thanks for telling me. I can’t say I’m surprised, but…I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to think she’d actually cheat on me.”
I walk behind him and pat his shoulder. “I’m gonna go. I’ll see ya around.”
He runs his hands through his hair, pushing it back, but keeps his fingers interlocked on the top of his head. “Yeah, okay.” When I get to the door, he says, “Wait, it’s late. Let me get you home.”
I shake my head. “No, please. Don’t worry about me. You have other things to worry about. I’ll head over to the diner a couple streets over and call a Lyft.”
He rushes over to his painting corner and grabs his keys and phone. “Come on,” he says, walking past me and opening the door. “I gotta get home anyway.”
I quietly follow behind him until we get to his motorcycle. Normally, I’d probably have something to say about riding on this thing, but not right now. He hands me his helmet and straddles the bike.
“Arms around my waist. You’ll be fine,” is all he mutters as I try my best to look like I know what I’m doing as I try to fit the helmet over my head.
“Um.”
“Come here.”
I take a couple steps and stand there as he helps secure the helmet. He cracks the tiniest of grins when he’s done, so I’m sure that means I look funny, but I don’t fight with him about it. I just climb behind him and wrap my arms around his middle.
The bike roars to life, making me jump a little, and then we’re off, traveling the nearly empty roads until we get to my place. The ride only takes about fifteen minutes, and to be honest, I’m glad we were on his bike, that way we didn’t have an uncomfortable silence between us the whole way.
I manage to get off the bike fairly easily, but removing the helmet doesn’t come gracefully. My hair gets caught somewhere inside, and by the time I pull it off, my hair’s all over the place.
“Thanks for the ride. And sorry about…everything.
”
He nods once as he easily puts the helmet on. “I’ll talk to you later.”
I wave and watch him drive off before I enter my house. For some reason, seeing Cillian like this makes me feel sad. I just want to go inside and eat some ice cream from the container and then fall asleep.
So that’s what I do.
3
Cillian
Zoe never responded to any of my texts. I decided I didn’t want to let her know that I was made aware of what she’s been up to via text message or voicemail, so after many unanswered calls, and texts that were never responded to, I stopped trying.
It isn’t until nearly noon on Sunday when the phone rings and her face lights up the screen.
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
She doesn’t even sound like she wants to talk to me, like she’s only calling because she’s aware I’ve been trying to get in touch with her since last night. I remember the days when she’d call and sound happy, even giddy to talk to me. I always knew when she was smiling over the phone. Her voice would be high and flirty. I don’t even remember when that stopped.
“You been busy?” I question, trying to keep my anger and frustration tamed. If I tell her now, she’ll never agree to see me, and the minute I question her, she’ll hang up and we’ll never have the conversation we need to have.
“Not really. Well, I guess. Last night I was out with Stacey, and we went to this bar. My phone was in my purse all night, and by the time I looked at it, it was already dead. I just plugged it in before I went to sleep, and woke up not too long ago.”
The fact that she’s trying to thoroughly explain why she didn’t see my texts or try to get in touch with me before I even have to ask seems telling. She’s covering her ass already, because she knows she’s in the wrong.
“I see. Stacey, huh?”
“Uh-huh. I told you about Stacey.”
“New girl who works with you. I remember.”
She’s silent on the other end, and while all I want to do is yell I know you’re fucking someone else! I don’t.
“You at home?”
“Where else would I be?” she asks with a chuckle. I don’t know if I’m thinking too much into it, but she sounds nervous.
“I’m not sure.” I swallow down my anger. “I want to take you to lunch, so I’ll be over there soon.”
“Wait!”
I hang up and stomp my way into the garage. Zoe only lives about twelve minutes away, but I’m sure I can cut that in half.
It takes eight minutes for me to get to her apartment, but it takes her fifteen minutes to get there herself. I watch from across the street as her little black Jetta pulls into her garage. She was in such a rush, I’m sure she didn’t see me.
I only wait about thirty seconds before I get out of the Jeep and stride across the street and up to her door. When she opens it, she’s flustered—her cheeks stained red and her hair in disarray.
“Hey,” she says, out of breath.
“Were you working out or something?” I question, wondering if she’s going to lie.
She looks down at her floral blouse and jeans—obviously something she wore last night while she was out. I’m sure there’s a pair of heels somewhere between her garage and front door that she kicked off.
“Oh, no. I was just about to get in the shower, so I kind of jogged down the hall to get to the door.
“Shower?” I lift a brow. “You’re already dressed.”
“Yeah, well…” she trails off, choosing to shrug and laugh it off. “Anyway, where do you want to eat?”
“Actually, do you mind if I come in for a minute?”
“Sure.” She pulls the door open wider and I step inside, looking around like I’m going to find evidence of her affair somewhere in the room.
I drop onto her pale-yellow loveseat and outstretch my arms across the back. She eyes me warily before sitting in a black accent chair to my left.
“So, what’s up?” she asks.
“What is up?” I throw back at her.
“I don’t know. Why are you acting weird?”
“I’m just wondering why you’re lying to me.”
“Lying to you?” she screeches. “What the hell are you talking about?”
I tilt my head, surprised at how fast she’s ready to defend herself, even though she knows she just got done lying to me a minute ago.
“You weren’t about to get in the shower.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, I was!”
“You just came home.”
She hesitates. “No. I’ve been here.”
“Really? So, that wasn’t you who just came flying down the street and into your garage?” She doesn’t answer. “I was outside, Zoe. You were so caught up in your bullshit, you didn’t even notice.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but there’s nothing to say, so she presses her lips together as her neck and cheeks begin to flush.
“Did you even come home last night? Or is this the first time you’ve been home since you were out with Stacey?”
She takes a deep breath and then lets her shoulders drop. I think she’s about to confess.
“Okay, fine. I got way too drunk last night and ended up passing out in the car on the way home, so I stayed with Stacey. I was just too embarrassed to tell you how fucked up I was.”
I take a minute to study her. She’s pretty good. Had I not seen the photos Midge texted me, or heard Midge’s story, I might’ve believed her. But I know better now.
“Really?”
“Yes, Cill. Jeez.”
Zoe gets up from the chair and marches to the kitchen. She probably doesn’t want me to be able to study her face and see the lies dripping from her mouth.
“Okay,” I state, getting up and following her to the kitchen. I pull my phone from my pocket and pull up the pictures I saved. After placing the phone face up on the counter between us, I look into her eyes and say, “Who’s this?”
After huffing her annoyance, she picks up the phone and sees the zoomed and cropped photo of her and whoever this guy is. I watch as her emotions take control of her face. Shock flashes behind her eyes before embarrassment and anger redden her cheeks. When she looks at me, fury simmers beneath the surface of shame.
“Are you following me?”
“Really, Zoe? That’s the first thing you’re gonna say to me? Who the fuck is this guy?” I demand, swiping the phone from her hand and holding it to her face. “Who is he, huh? You seem awfully close.”
“You’re crazy,” she says, turning her back on me and going to the sink to wash off a plate that had been left behind in there. “I’m not doing anything in that picture. That’s someone I know from work. We happened to run into each other. It’s not a big deal.”
I have to keep myself from slamming my phone on the counter. Instead, I ball my free hand into a fist and hit the table hard enough that the glass decorative dishes clatter.
“Stop fucking lying to me, Zoe!”
She spins around, eyes wide, mouth agape. “I’m not!”
“My friend saw you and your other fucking boyfriend making out in front of Lucio’s. Okay? So just fucking admit it already and get it over with. I don’t believe shit you’re saying.”
Zoe scoffs and turns her back on me again. I imagine it’s because she doesn’t want me to see her oh shit, I’ve been caught face. “I can’t believe you’d accept some story a friend told you over what I’m saying to you now.”
“Well, I’ve known this person longer than I’ve known you, and nobody would lie about seeing you making out with some guy. The same fucking guy in these goddamn pictures!” I yell, holding the phone up again.
She turns around and leans against the counter, staring at me. We study each other for what feels like forever, and then she finally breaks.
“Fine. It’s true.”
“Why would you do this?”
She laughs a humorless laugh. “Are you kidding me? You’re never around. You’r
e always at work or at the studio. You don’t want to spend time with me, Cill.”
“You’re invited to my brother’s house every fucking Sunday. I always invite you to come to the studio with me, and I’ve even been asking you out, but you keep turning me down.”
“I’m not talking about for the last month when you’ve been trying to put forth more effort.”
“That’s how long you’ve been fucking this guy, huh? Jesus Christ, Zoe,” I say, running my hands through my hair.
“We’ve been drifting apart for a while now, Cill. You know that.”
“Then why do we keep coming back together? If you’ve been unhappy, why do you keep coming back to me?”
She shrugs, looking down at the floor. “I don’t know. Familiarity.”
I turn around and walk into the living room. When I face her again, she’s got tears welling in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Cill. I am. But you care too much about creating your art. I don’t want to hang out with you in your studio all night.”
“I don’t go every night. I’ve invited you out on dates, told you to come to my brother’s bar, but I think you checked out a long time ago. I don’t think you even saw what I was trying to do for you. But my art is my life. You don’t know what it does for me.”
“Then I guess I don’t know you as well as I thought.”
“I guess fucking not,” I say on a breath. “Jesus, Zoe. I guess we’re finally done for good.”
She shrugs and a tear spills down her cheek. “I didn’t want it to end like this.”
“Then you should’ve ended it the right way,” I say and then storm out.
4
Midge
“So, what happened? How did he react when you told him?” London asks.
I take a sip of my Coke and then pick up a huge slice of pepperoni pizza from Antoni’s, which is one of our favorite spots to eat at. “He was fairly quiet. Angry. But he didn’t explode. Not the type, you know? But you can tell he was hurt.”
“At least he believed you.”
Truth or Dare (Kingston Brothers Book 2) Page 2