The Reality of Wright and Wrong

by Leddy Harper

  A sigh of relief escaped as I dropped my forehead to our joined hands. “So you’re not leaving? You’re staying here and figuring it all out with me?” I peered up at her and held my breath while waiting for an answer. Pleading with my eyes for the right response. One that would end the disruptive chaos currently taking up residence in my chest.

  “No, baby,” she said while tracing my jawline with her fingertip. “I’m not looking for a reason to leave you. All I want is a job where I can instill values and morals into young children with the hope they’ll grow up to be bright, productive adults.”

  My cheeks strained beneath the weight of my growing smile.

  Which fell flat upon her next words.

  “And if that opportunity doesn’t exist here, then I’ll have to explore my options and see what makes the most sense.” Her mouth snapped shut and eyes opened wide when I pushed to my feet in front of her, effectively putting a stop to what she was saying.

  Staring at her, I took a step back and fought to control my breathing. My chest heaved with the exertion of each inhale. Every exhale. Practically coming and going at the same time. Panic close to setting in.

  “At some point, you’ll have to stop running, Mercy.”

  “W-what are you talking about?”

  “You’re the runner. You get freaked out or confused, and your first reaction is to flee. I’m the chaser. My first reaction will always be to go after you. Beg you to come back. And when you do, I wait on the edge of my seat, anticipating the next time you’ll take off. I can’t live like that.”

  She climbed to her feet but didn’t come toward me. Instead, she remained in place with her heels against the bottom of the couch, looking up at me with bewilderment glistening in her eyes.

  “Brogan—”

  “No, Mercy.” I shouldn’t have spat her name like that. It simply came out on its own, filled with frustration. Heavy with the rejection I felt each and every time she uttered my name without any hint of the love song that usually accompanied it.

  Hearing it stung like being attacked by a dozen swarms of bees.

  “I’m well aware that every time I chase after you and beg you to stay, you do it to please me. To give me what I want. I have no one to blame but myself for the fear I live with—the fear that you’ll run off again. And the only way to put an end to that cycle is to let you go and hope you choose to return on your own. To me. To us. I don’t want to let you go, to watch you walk away. But I also don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

  Her mouth opened and closed a few times while she mindlessly studied the center of my chest. Finally, when the words came to her, she asked, “What does that even mean?”

  “If you leave, I won’t follow. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. It only means I’ve chosen to stay here and wait for your return. Wait for you to find your way to me again. I have to trust that what we have was forged in the stars countless lifetimes ago, and if that’s true, then I have no doubt in my mind you’ll come back.” I hadn’t intended to say half of that, yet once I started, I couldn’t stop, leaving my hands tied in the event she left.

  Mercy licked her lips and scanned the room, twisting at the waist to turn in half circles. She appeared to be searching for an exit, though I began to question that the longer she remained in place. But if an escape wasn’t what she sought, I was lost as to what she was looking for.

  Finally, she faced me again and straightened her spine. Her shoulders were pulled back, squared, eyes steadily on mine. “I didn’t say I was leaving.”

  “You said you’d have to explore your options.”

  Her tears were now nothing more than dried tracks lining her face. Determination had replaced the unease from moments ago, almost as if she was prepared for battle. However, her eyes spoke of peace, soothing the unsettled rhythm in my chest. “Yeah, I did say that, as in my options for employment. Which could be a bank teller or dog walker…here. I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to make you think I was talking about finding opportunities that would lead me away from you. I’ve had a hell of a day, and I guess it’s affected my ability to communicate properly.”

  As much as I wanted to take back all I’d said, I couldn’t. Whether she intended to stay or not was on her. All that mattered was that she now knew where I stood. It hadn’t been meant as a threat to keep her from leaving, but more of a promise that I’d be here waiting in the event fear chased her away.

  Rather than say anything, I closed the gap between us, took her face in my hands, and covered her mouth with mine, saying everything I needed to with my lips and tongue—minus the words.

  We’d figure this out.

  I had to believe we would.

  21

  Mercy

  I seriously began to wonder if my life would ever go back to being uncomplicated.

  Doubtful.

  Ever since getting on that plane to surprise Jordan, nothing had been simple. I wound up married to a stranger, had my relationship status broadcasted all over the internet, and lost my job before I had even started. However, the most impressive part was that this all took place in less than sixty days.

  At this point, I wouldn’t be greedy; I’d take less complicated.

  And to make matters worse, Brogan had invited me along to take part in their pre-filming ritual. Otherwise known as going to a bar and drinking the night before production started. While I’d done this sort of thing with him before—joining him for trivia and drinks with a few of his friends—tonight was different. It felt a bit like I was intruding. After all, I had no clue what it was like to have cameras in my face while I tried to work or carry on conversations with friends.

  So, while they all chatted among themselves about previous seasons and their thoughts on most of the production crew, I sat there in silence. Even though I’d seen the show, there wasn’t much I could comment on, since very little of what they talked about had made it past editing. And what I’d found to be interesting nearly two hours ago, now made me feel like an outcast.

  Indi came up beside me and took the vacant chair to my left. At least she didn’t come emptyhanded. Even if the shot glass she set in front of me seemed more like a peace offering than a kind gesture, it was better than nothing.

  “If you can make it through the next six weeks, you’re as good as gold, girl,” she said before holding up her tiny glass between us. Apparently, that had been meant as a toast, not a few words of wisdom imparted to me by my husband’s old lover.

  It could’ve also been a passive-aggressive threat.

  Knowing where my mind was at, and realizing the guys didn’t seem anywhere close to being ready to call it a night, I didn’t hesitate before lifting my glass, tapping it against the rim of Indi’s, and shooting it back.

  Tequila.

  It’d given me yet another reason to be thankful I didn’t have to worry about a camera crew following me around tomorrow. Honestly, I had no idea how these guys—or Indi—would get out of bed in the morning, let alone function enough to offer anything of use to the show.

  “Wrong told me about your job.” If this was her version of small talk, then either I’d been lied to my whole life, or no one had taught her the art of idle chitchat.

  “That was nice of him.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” she said with a hand on my arm. “He only mentioned it to see if I had any pull with the schools in this area. My aunt used to teach at Lincoln High, so he thought she might be able to suggest something.”

  I glanced around the table to make sure I didn’t keep anyone’s attention. Then I faced her once more and decided to ask what had been playing on my mind for a while. “Are you in love with Brogan?”

  Alcohol had a tendency to shut down the filter between my brain and my mouth.

  Shock ran across her face for a split second, then a smile formed on her lips. “No, Mercy. I’m not. He told me you’ve thought that before, but I swear, you have nothing to worry about.”

  “I just don’
t understand why you’d stick around while he…did what he did with other women if you aren’t in love with him. Or why you’d keep it going for so long. And I’ve seen the way you look at him—well, on the show, I mean.”

  She took a deep breath and turned in her chair to face me. “I care about him a lot. That’s no secret. But my feelings don’t come anywhere close to love. The only reason I stuck around was because of my situation.”

  I regarded her without speaking, hoping she’d offer the answers to the questions flittering about in my mind. The ones I didn’t feel I had a right to ask no matter how much I had to drink.

  “About a year before he and Jess split, I lost the love of my life in a motorcycle accident. And when Wrong left Jess, we both found ourselves in a very vulnerable situation, which was what led to us hooking up. I never cared that he was seeing other people. That wasn’t what our relationship was, so it didn’t bother me. I didn’t want to seek comfort from others. Having one person to help me out from time to time was enough for me. And when he told me about you…I couldn’t have been happier for him.”

  Needing a glimpse of Brogan, I glanced to the side and took him in. I could see why she would’ve been happy finding comfort in him without needing to search elsewhere. But at the same time, I didn’t understand why he hadn’t simply told me that when I’d questioned it from the start.

  “Whatever’s going through your mind right now, Mercy, please don’t think he told me about your job for any other reason than to help. You’re his entire world.” Says a woman who knows my husband intimately.

  I shook off that thought, refusing to obsess over a relationship I didn’t understand and couldn’t change—even if I’d wanted to. Indi wasn’t a bad person, so I hated it when I naturally fell into this jealous role. Especially when I wasn’t a jealous person.

  “Let me guess…your aunt couldn’t help.” I quickly grabbed an abandoned drink from the center of the table, not at all caring whose it was. Even though I didn’t need more alcohol, it was the closest thing I could find that might keep my mouth occupied so I didn’t continue to obsess over the things she and Brogan had done with one another.

  I wasn’t sure what was in the drink, but it tasted like tea.

  There was a very small chance that’s what it was, but I didn’t care.

  “Unfortunately. She retired close to ten years ago, and most of the staff she worked with back then are all gone. Not to mention, Wrong said you can’t teach in public schools until you take the state tests, so even if she did have active connections, they wouldn’t be of much use.”

  This entire situation concerned me, except I couldn’t pinpoint why. Yes, it bothered me that Brogan had discussed my personal business with the woman he used to sleep with, although I wasn’t convinced that was the cause for my concern.

  Rather than continue to question it, I swallowed another gulp of whatever this concoction was and said, “It’s all right. Thanks for the help. I’m sure I can figure something out, and if I can’t, it’s not the end of the world.”

  “How can you be so calm about this? If my ex obliterated my whole world, I’d be livid.”

  I stared at her for a moment, ignoring the slight blur of her features while analyzing what she’d said. Because I had to have heard her wrong. “He might’ve messed up the shop, but he can’t be blamed for this. They chose to let me go because of the inappropriate attention Brogan’s show would bring to the school by employing me.”

  Indi’s head slowly bobbed up and down—the kind of nod that implied she was thinking rather than responding to anything. “Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I assumed he was behind both.”

  “No. He might be mad at me, but he’d never put my job in jeopardy. I’m sure he holds enough guilt over what he did to the shop to keep him from causing any more problems. And if he does, he knows Brogan won’t be nice the next time.”

  Again, she nodded, but rather than continue the conversation, she blinked a few times and pulled herself out of the chair. “Listen, I’m going to run to the bar for another drink; would you like something?”

  I did, but my thoughts were going too fast to do anything other than shake my head. And as I watched her walk away from the table, my paranoia spiked. She knew something but didn’t say it. Which only made me wonder what she knew and why she hadn’t told me.

  Between the liquor that sloshed inside my head and the confusion that left me impaired—maybe that was also the alcohol, but that was neither here nor there—I couldn’t concentrate hard enough on what we had talked about to even consider what she could’ve been keeping from me. Jordan, my job, Brogan, his shop…there was a chance we’d discussed something else, but I couldn’t remember what it was.

  Regardless, whatever had sent her running to the bar must’ve been bad.

  And I needed to know.

  So, I pulled myself to my feet and followed Color-by-Numbers Barbie for answers. I focused on the back of her head as I put one foot in front of the other to keep myself from falling on my face in front of everyone. While I’d had a lot to drink, the assumption that Indi was keeping something from me—and what it could be—had weakened my knees. The combination was disastrous, though not enough to stop me from going after her.

  When I sidled up next to Indi, she turned her head, noticed me, and offered a gentle smile, soft enough to make me question if I’d fabricated her secretive demeanor from a moment ago. “I told you I’d get you something if you wanted it. You didn’t have to leave the group.”

  “What aren’t you telling me?” While the words sounded harsh, my desperate tone set the record straight. It left no doubt to my state of mind.

  “Nothing. Why would you think that?”

  “Because you got all weird when we were talking, and then you quickly left.”

  Her smile would’ve fooled me had I not recognized it as fake—not as wide or flashy, the kind of expression a person gave when playing a part. “Oh, no. I just didn’t realize your ex was the one who’d broken into the shop.”

  I hesitated, because I could’ve sworn she had been the one who brought him up in the first place. Then again, she’d had me so twisted around I no longer knew my right from my left. My brow pinched, burned with the strain of my narrowed concentration, when I asked, “Brogan didn’t tell you?”

  “No, and now, I wish he would have. It might’ve made this less awkward.”

  “Made what less awkward?”

  “Never mind. If Wrong hasn’t mentioned it, then it’s not my place to.”

  The room began to spin as I fought to collect myself without falling over. “Tell me, Indi. Please. If you know something, just tell me.”

  She huffed after accepting the drink from the bartender. But before offering me an explanation, she took advantage of the cold glass in her hand and gulped a third of its contents down. “The person your ex was cheating on you with is my sister. That’s how I was able to recognize him from the security feed. I’m the one who told Wrong his name. He never explained to me that he was also your ex.”

  There was so much to say. So much to ask. Yet the only thing I managed to utter was, “Y-your sister?”

  “Yeah, but listen, I can guarantee she didn’t know about you. She might be a bit of a free spirit, but she’d never be with another woman’s man.” The pity that stared back at me made me sick to my stomach. “Wrong had told me that you caught your ex with someone else the night you guys met. Well, that was my sister. I was with her that night, and then he showed up—your ex. I had called Wrong for a ride, which was why he was there. I didn’t connect the dots until a few minutes ago when you said he’s the one who broke into the shop.”

  I was speechless, but I wasn’t sure if it was due to the shocking news or the bile that ate away at the base of my throat. Then my lip began to quiver. If I didn’t get ahold on my emotions, I’d never be able to show my face in this bar again—not that I would’ve cared. But I didn’t wish to be forever known as the woman who cried while vomiting on
herself, incoherently mumbling things like “there’s no place like home.”

  Indi hadn’t let me take more than two steps toward the bathroom before hooking her arm with mine to escort me away from the crowd. She made it hard to hate her. And by the time she had me in front of the sink in the large, handicap stall of the ladies’ room, I kind of wanted her to be my best friend.

  “Nothing is making sense right now,” I muttered while letting her pat my forehead with a damp paper towel. “If you didn’t know that Jordan was the one who trashed the shop, then how can you be so sure he was cheating on me with your sister?”

  Her ministrations stopped for a moment. But when I peered at her through the mirror, she quickly shook it off, playing off the hesitation as needing to rewet the paper towel. “I’m the one who recognized him on the CCTV footage as being the guy my sister was seeing for a couple of months not too long ago.”

  I had to force myself to refrain from mental calculations of time so I could focus on what she had to say.

  “I’d been around him on a few occasions, but I mostly remember him from the night you and Wrong met, because she had ditched me for him, and it ended up causing a huge fight between us. I know that was the same night Wrong found you outside the club, because he had originally told me he’d come get me and later sent a text saying he couldn’t. I found out a few days after that it was because he’d met someone. That someone being you.”

  The night was so clear in my head—but not the way most memories were. I’d had a lot to drink by the time I’d stumbled outside, and while Brogan’s presence on that sidewalk had been sobering, it hadn’t reversed the effects of the alcohol I’d consumed. However, when I replayed the events in my mind, turning around and finding him standing there in jeans and a white T-shirt, there was no haze around the memory. It was as if that was the moment I’d woken up from a coma I hadn’t known I’d been in.