by A. L. Woods
Her long, dark hair was lush, falling over her shoulders in a blowout that must have cost a small fortune. Her dark eyes lidded when she took another small sip from the Bordeaux glass, her infallible garnet red lipstick not leaving a trace of stain behind on the rim.
“Dougie told me they used to have a little thing between them.”
I whipped my attention back to her, not missing the arsenic in the way she said “thing.” “What?”
Penelope picked up her virgin drink, swirling the contents of the flute glass pinched between her fingers. “Sean knows that Dougie had a crush on her, but he doesn’t know that they…” her lips pursed. “Anyway, they had a secret thing between them, so don’t repeat it.”
“What kind of thing?” What were we discussing here? Friends with benefits? Unrequited love? Right person, wrong time…what?
“Nothing serious,” she said, one arm stretching across her middle. She elongated her neck, grappling to find the confident woman I knew existed inside of her. The one who wasn’t mired in hormones.
Still, I didn’t miss the unsettled shuffle of her weight distribution from one foot to the other. “He said things just fizzled out. She’s a workaholic and doesn’t do relationships, so once he served his purpose, she sent him along.”
Was she sure that Dougie had “served his purpose?” The way Maria was looking at her and Dougie made sense to me now, and I had been right—this was something her money couldn’t buy. Dougie’s newfound happiness with my best friend.
“Does that bother you?”
“Not really,” she asserted, her shoulders dropping all of an inch. She popped a glance at her cuticles, trying for bored and self-assured. “He’s with me, right?”
She had never needed my validation before, but something about Maria’s presence here had left her insecure. When she caught the dubious bend of my eyebrows, she shook away whatever cobwebs formed in her mind, pitching her hand on her waist, tilting her nose skyward. “What bothers me is that her ass looks manufactured.”
My head snapped back. “Pen,” I hissed. It wasn’t in her nature to attack another woman’s physical appearance or virtue out of spite. Then again, it wasn’t like her to cry over sparkling apple juice and a term of endearment, either. We weren’t dealing with my levelheaded best friend for the foreseeable future, that was for damn sure.
“What?” She blinked, craning her head as though she could see the swell of Maria’s curves that nestled against the wall. “Did you get a good look at that thing? It can’t be natural.”
“You’re just mad because yours is flat as a floorboard.”
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Mine is a gentle speed bump.”
“I think that’s still being generous.” I yelped when her hand cracked against my ass with an audible clap, drawing attention to us. My face flushed, a smarting of pain spreading across the surface of my right ass cheek.
“You’re right,” she amended, curling her fingers into her palm, mouth quirking. “You’re the one with the generous ass.”
Our laughter faded off into nothingness when Livy flew toward Maria, her floor-length gown flying up around her ankles. Both of us forgot to breathe as we watched Livy speak in hurried and hushed whispers to her older sister, her expression painted with the panic she couldn’t successfully control. Maria settled the wineglass on the nesting table, her spine lengthening—as if she could get any taller—and followed her younger sister.
I didn’t find the opportunity earlier to compliment Livy’s gold sequined puff-sleeved gown that was something out of Grecian times. She’d been deep in discussion on the merits of Shakespearean influence on modern theater with some poor fool who couldn’t find an out. Livy’s dress belonged on the red carpet. Her brown sugar-colored hair coiled high on top of her head; an ornate decorative hairpin sandwiched on the base of her bun. The Tavares sisters breezed by us, not sparing us so much as a parting glance. With no regard for the frigid temperatures outside, Maria drew the garden doors open, letting in a bone-chilling breeze, before they both disappeared into the night.
“What the hell was that about?” Penelope whispered.
I rolled my lips together, curiosity strumming inside of me. “Let me go find out.”
“The ball’s going to drop in twenty minutes,” Penelope reminded me as I snuck out the garden doors onto the back porch.
The cold air slammed into me, and I wished I’d first grabbed my jacket, but I moved on autopilot. I dug around the pockets of my dress, grateful at least that I’d stowed a lighter and a few rogue cigarettes. Stuffing one between my lips, I worked the spark wheel as I followed the sound of snuffling, the suppressed exchange of whispers. With the cigarette sandwiched precariously between my lips, my legs carried me across the wraparound back porch. I could pick out Trina’s highlighter pink hair anywhere, it glowed under the tawny light that formed a halo as it shone down on her from the porch sconces.
Sean’s sisters huddled together on a wicker loveseat that despite its purpose of holding just two people, accommodated a third smaller figure nestled in the middle. Trina didn’t seem to care that she wore a dress. Her arms were wrapped around her legs and her knees were drawn to her forehead.
The smell of tobacco had Maria lifting her head, her eyes zoning in on the cigarette. I watched her throat work over the lump that formed from what I could only describe as her own craving.
She wasn’t indulging today with an audience present.
“Hey,” I murmured.
Trina’s makeup was smeared across her face. She pawed away at Livy, who was busy trying to undo the damage with a tissue she tented over her pointer finger. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you to use waterproof mascara, Katrina.”
That was the first time I’d ever heard anyone use her full name.
“I wasn’t planning on crying today, Olivia,” Trina snarled.
I couldn’t recall a single time I ever witnessed her so dejected and irate before. Whatever had upset her, it was bad.
“I won’t ask if everything’s okay.” I chewed on the corner of my lip, flicking the ash of my cigarette to the ground. “But if there’s anything I can do, let me know.”
“We’ve got it, Raquel,” Maria clipped. There was something in the dismissal that left me uneasy.
Livy exchanged a look with her older sister, something knowing flickering there. “Yeah, we’re okay here,” Livy asserted. She sent me a smile as fake as artificial sweetener.
I frowned. I expected that level of shortness from Maria, but not Livy. They all but twisted my arm to get me to help them decorate their family Christmas tree a little over a month ago–to include me.
Something was off. I could sense it in the depths of my gut.
“No, I want her to stay.” Trina hiccupped. She swiped the napkin Livy had been using to blot her tears away, wiping the running snot from under her nose. She crumpled it in her fist, looking down at her shoes.
“Did something happen with Adam?” I bridged, using my insider knowledge. Their eyes all snapped to mine, different shades of brown and gold locking onto me.
Trina’s nod was feeble, sucking back another sniffle. She didn’t even bother to question how I knew; I suppose she resolved herself that her drama was everyone else’s.
“He’s upset with me.” Her fist clutched the hemline of her dress, a shiver rolling through her.
“What happened?”
Maria stared at Trina as though she was trying to claw her way inside of her kid sister’s mind through telepathy. Livy fixed her gaze on the opulent moon that hung low in the sky. “It’s cold; we should go inside,” Livy suggested, rising to her feet.
It didn’t escape my notice that they were both weird as fuck on a good day, but this was a new level of emotional micromanagement.
Livy held out a hand to her younger sister that went ignored. Whatever they were trying to communicate with Trina was going unnoticed. The tawny porch lights caught on the fresh batch of tears that
were glossing over her honey browns, her features crumpling.
“He’s upset that I looked him up and found out he served jail time,” she whispered.
I winced. I didn’t understand what would have possessed her to do such a thing. Now the tense set of his body and hardened jaw made sense to me. “Furious at my betrayal. Those were the words he used. I don’t even know why I did it, after what I told—”
“We have time to get another drink before the ball drops,” Livy interjected, glancing at the delicate watch around her wrist. “I’ll get you another glass of red wine, Trina. C’mon.” She fluttered the fingers of her open palm in her kid sister’s direction.
“That’s a good idea,” Maria said with a nod of her head. God, what was with these two? When had they become the Stepford Wives, devoid of personality and emotional intelligence?
But Trina ignored them. She dragged her teeth along her bottom lip and then asked, “How did you forgive Sean when he broke your trust?”
Maria and Livy shared another silent exchange.
I frowned at the strangeness of the query. “Trust wasn’t entirely the issue, being open with each other was.” I sighed, butting out the cigarette in the ashtray Penelope had left on an outdoor nesting table. “Which was my fault. I’m learning to become a more effective communicator and to share things with him.”
“So, it didn’t bother you at all that he looked you up, too?” Trina asked.
The crooning from the party faded out around me. It felt as though someone had covered my ears with their palms, sound vacuuming inside of my head in a painful loop.
My heartbeat pounded in the center of my palms, my eyes narrowing at her. “What did you say?” I asked, my tone metallic.
“Katrina.” Maria tried to modulate her voice, but I heard the confirmation. Over the din of the party, I could have picked out the sound of a pin dropping in the middle of the heavily wooded forest that abutted the property.
Livy sucked in a breath, lowering herself onto the loveseat once more. Her spine crashed against the back of the wicker and her chin tipped skyward, lids dropping.
“What do you mean?” It was the only thing I could think of asking. I needed her to spell this out for me. Surely, she didn’t just say what I thought she said…did she?
“We should get that drink,” Maria suggested, nudging Trina out of her catatonic state. When neither of her younger sisters moved, she rose to her feet. “Let’s head back in.”
I hated her in that moment—her poise, controlled responses, and lack of emotion.
“Yeah, I’m cold and thirsty.” Livy scrambled up. Her fingers sank into Trina’s bicep, jerking her upright.
Livy was a carbon copy of Maria right now. Stoic and cold.
It was the youngest of the Tavares sisters who didn’t move after standing. She remained rooted in place, saddled by a spontaneous case of aphasia.
I realized she had said something she hadn’t meant to, while her sisters were trying to sweep it under a rug as though it didn’t happen…that they were complicit in covering up deceit.
Trina knew I heard her; she had to have seen it on my face. Her eyes swam with a fresh bucket of tears as she passed a look between her older sisters.
I wanted her to say it. “Katrina, what do you mean?”
Guilt lined her face. My eyes flitted to Maria and Livy—they both were listless, staring off into the darkness.
“Did Sean look me up?” I demanded. It almost seemed as if they’d designed the prolonged silence to draw me into madness.
My heart took off on a gallop. I was aware what was on the internet about me, about my family. My chest constricted, my dress growing snug. I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to think Sean would sink to that level, that his impatience would drive him into violating my privacy that way.
“Is it true?” The question came out as a growl.
Their silence spoke volumes, and the pieces of the puzzle suddenly snapped into place. He had already known everything the night of Holly Jane’s anniversary. He knew, he knew, and he let me humiliate myself.
A lobotomy would have been better than the truth.
My secrets had never been mine at all.
Still, the Tavares sisters remained mute.
The significance of Maria’s objection to my presence all made sense.
I made a sound that was equal parts a choke of laughter and a cry of betrayal. My legs staggered backward, my mind drowning out the call of my name at my back as I ran for the door. My entire body vibrating, I swung open the garden doors and stumbled into the crowded kitchen. Pushing past the throng of people and searching over the tips of heads and bodies that clamored together like a school of fish, I sought him out.
Sean had an arm slung over Dougie’s shoulder, who was in the middle of a toast, shot glasses touching several others.
“Sláinte!” Dougie concluded, raising his glass. The group tapped their glasses, the tinkling sound hitting my ears. Everything sounded so much louder when my focus concentrated on him. He always seemed larger than life to me. Things were brighter, less dark. But that was the case for everyone I thought was on my side, wasn’t it? He was another person I’d become blind for, stopped paying attention to, and missed the signs somewhere along the way because I told myself he was safe. I trusted him. He promised me. If I looked at the evidence, if I’d been less emotional, less reactive, I would have seen that his bright, shining light and magnificence was nothing but a farce…unauthentic.
A fucking lie.
Sean tipped the amber liquid down the back of his throat; I watched the smooth weave of his throat and his grin slide in place.
We were so close to being happy, weren’t we? So close that I could taste it like the fragrant notes of whiskey on his tongue. His dark eyes met mine, sucking all the air out of my lungs in a single look.
I wonder what he was seeing right now. Whatever it was, it was enough for him to drop his smile and straighten his spine.
Warm hands gripped my bicep from behind, Trina’s floral perfume hitting my nose. “Raquel, please.”
I barely registered her plea; all I could do was concentrate on the man who’d betrayed me with such ease. I made it easy for him, hadn’t I? I made it easy for everyone.
His horror slid into place.
“Trina.” Maria’s voice was low and assured. “I’ll handle this. Go wash your face.”
Handle this? I wasn’t one of her inconvenient problems that she needed to bury with legalese until I cooperated and agreed to sign an NDA.
“I thought you knew,” Trina sobbed, ignoring Maria.
“You’re making a scene,” Livy hissed. I could practically hear her worried eyes working the room.
A dark cloud passed over Sean’s face, his flinty stare bouncing between his sisters, then settling on me. He knew I knew. I saw it in the way his eyes lidded, his jaw ticked, and his fist clenched around the shot glass.
“Raquel, it was my fault,” Maria offered, her voice so uncharacteristically hushed that I almost didn’t hear it. Maybe she was grasping for the first time she couldn’t lawyer someone into submission. “It was my idea, it wasn’t Sean’s.”
Her idea? Sure, that part I believed. Why should I expect anything else from her, after all? The lawyer, the older sister, the protector. She’d told me exactly who she was, and I respected that.
But I expected more from him. The man who told me he loved me when he hardly knew me.
Or so I thought he hadn’t known me. I wanted to laugh. He’d known more about me than I realized all along. I was nothing but a fool.
Sean had convinced me I was the one who was the roadblock, barring us from happiness and a good life together.
I was the one who was too afraid to need someone, too frightened to take the leap.
And I had been, for good fucking reason.
They called that instinct. Intuition. And I ignored that little voice for the first guy who deceived me into believing he respected m
e enough to let me come to him willingly, to let me fall in love with him at my pace, on my own terms.
Not because he was some sick puppet master manipulating me behind the scenes, pulling my strings at all the right places, as though we were nothing more than a pair of broken marionettes.
How could I be so damn stupid? How had I allowed myself to become so naïve all over again where I didn’t see the red paint on the stark white wall?
No, Sean was just as much to blame for this as Maria was. Perhaps more so. How long had he known? Before he bent me over a desk in this very house and called me a liar and a coward? After he brought me to his ma’s house on Thanksgiving? When I’d found myself in his bed and him in my heart?
My legs wobbled, my shaking arms wrapping around my middle. The urge to be sick had me drawing in heavy gasps of air like my life depended on it as my throat closed up on me.
“He never suggested it. It was me. Please don’t be angry with him.” Maria didn’t grovel, she didn’t beg, and she didn’t plea. Hearing supplication pass her lips now only reinforced how wrong she knew it was.
It was unforgivable.
She said something else, but I didn’t hear her. Nothing was registering in my befuddled brain anymore, the penetrable sieves that once existed in my mind clogged by the lies.
Sean must have known about everything the night he had shown up at The Advocate. That was why he came there on that specific day; he understood the significance. Humiliation pricked at the back of my eyelids. I blinked hard and fast, willing the tears to leave me be.
Was I not at a minimum allowed my dignity? It seemed all I’d done since he entered my life was cry and then cry some more.
He let me sit opposite him in that diner, spilling out the dark contents of my soul before him. I’d embarrassed myself. He had used that information to his advantage.
Just how fucking blind was I to have ever believed that any of this could be real?
It hadn’t been kismet that he’d been at The Advocate that night, nor divine intervention from Holly Jane.