by Dylan Allen
“Oh, I’d love to see it” Penn says, her brows lift quizzically and she throws a “do you have any idea what’s wrong?” expression my way.
I give a quick shake of my head.
“It’s in Texas. It was too big to bring with me,” I answer as pleasantly as I can. It broke my heart to leave it and I hate imagining what’s happened to it since I left.
“I took a picture of it. Here.” Carter hands his phone to his mother without opening anything and my stomach clenches when I realize he’s been looking at it all this time. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Her eyes cloud with worry and darting between him and me before she takes it from him,
She gasps, but it’s not awe in her eyes when she looks up at me. She looks devastated, but then she catches herself and she smiles, but it’s a watery smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Let me see it?” Joe asks and she hands the phone to him before I can protest. It feels like being stripped naked in front of everyone.
I painted it for him. It’s ours. Wow that we’re not - or can’t be - what we were in that picture, it feels wrong to share it.
Jack and Porsha are engrossed in whatever conversation they’re having and don’t look up.
“Wow, Beth. This is incredible. And huge. You paint those other ones so fast. This must have taken a long time,” Joe says but his eyes are tinged with concern and he’s looking at Carter who’s staring at the floor now that his phone isn’t in his hands.
Penn takes the phone from Joe and they exchange a look I don’t understand before she looks back at the painting. Her elegant fingers trace the screen and she shakes her head.
“I can feel you thinking mom. Just say it,” Carter snaps and her eyes narrow in annoyance at his less than polite tone.
Her lips pucker and twist before she hands him the phone. He takes it and tosses it on to the couch next to him without looking at it again. That flippant discarding of it hurts more than anything else he’s done today.
“We should see about getting it - the original,” Penn says trying to brighten the mood.
I smile at her grateful for the effort, but shake my head. “My father would never let me have it. I hate not having it, but honestly, for me the best part of those paintings in the process of creating them. It changed my life.”
Carter just looks at me, and his expression is blank in way that makes my gut twist.
“I painted another one, just him by himself,” I tell her.
“It’s just a shadow of the original,” Carter says, and Jack narrows his eyes at him.
I’ve had enough of whatever is going on with him.
“Carter, what’s wrong?” I demand.
“Nothing,” he says, but the dour cast to his voice tells a different story.
“Joe, I have this great book on the history of Crown Heights in my library, I’d love to show you,” Penn says and Joe blinks at her in confusion before he smiles and stands.
“I’d love to see it, lead the way.” His exaggerated eagerness is nearly comical. But when he smile reassuringly at me before he curls his lip at Carter, I want to cry.
“What’s the matter Did you have a fight?” Jack scoffs and drops down on the couch next to Carter, scoops a handful of almonds from the bowl in front of him and pops one into his mouth.
“Why are you such an asshole?” Porsha glowers at him.
He glares right back. “At least I’m not sitting here pretending that this isn’t fucking weird.” He turns to look at me, his expression dispassionate.
“I’m glad you’re back in his life, Beth because he’s actually happy for the first time in a long time. But I’m also worried because he’s so happy. You two have a fine line to walk. And now that he’s about to be the “It” guy, everything will be watched. Your story won’t stay a secret. And when it comes out, every public interaction you’ve had will be scrutinized. So, I’m just saying, be careful. Because we’re all attached to the same chariot. If it goes up in flames, none of us will walk away unscathed.”
He stands. “I’m going to smoke a joint. Porsha, you’re terrible company. But, since you’re the only one who hasn’t taken the hint that we’re giving them space, I’m inviting you to join me.”
“How anyone in the history of people has ever found you charming is beyond me,” Porsha says, but stands. She squeezes my shoulder and follows his out onto the small balcony leaving Carter and me alone.
The air pulses with tension and I know I wasn’t misreading that whatever he’s angry about has to do with me.
“Carter?”
“Yeah?” He responds like he’s preoccupied but, he’s just sitting there, staring at his hands. He’s hurting, I can feel it. I walk over and sit next to him.
“Are you okay?” I ask quietly so that no one else can hear.
He leans over and presses his lips to my ear “I hate sitting across from you.”
My breath hitches, each word hitting my heart like an iron tipped whip, confirming my fears.
I lean back, needing to see the truth in his eyes. His eyes are green points of pain and possessive need and my lacerated heart slams against my chest.
I lay hand on his arm and he yanks away from me.
“Don’t touch me,” he hisses, and shifts away from me.
I bite back a whimper and pull my hands back.
“Do you want me to leave?” I ask a question whose answer seems obvious, but I want to be sure that I’m not misreading him.
“I thought I could do this, I can’t.” His voice is flat, his expression bleak and cold starts to seep into my chest.
“What can’t you do?”
His head is bowed, the dark waves of hair that crown are a siren song for my fingers - they love that slide of the feathery silk between them. I reach for him, longing, yearning, foolishly forgetting that I shouldn’t touch him like that.
But he remembers. The sharp, swift shake of his head stays my hand.
“Okay, I’ll leave.” Tears cloud my vision but they’re not sad tears. I’m angry.
I stand, but before I can walk away, his hand clutches the hem of my dress.
“Carter…what are you doing?"I ask, my patience close to snapping.
His eyes remain locked on the fabric caught in his white knuckled grip. I’m starting to think he didn’t hear me, when he finally gives voice to his torment.
“You don’t understand. I need you too much. I want you too much. This is killing me, Beth."
Forbidden Fruit
CARTER
Once I’ve said the words, I exhale in relief. I can see that they hurt her, but I’ve been dying under the weight of them.
I’ve known since the night of our helicopter ride, since she told me she’d been pregnant…with my baby. I can’t handle whatever this relationship we’re attempting to cobble together is. It could never be enough.
I thought about canceling today, but my mother would have killed me if I’d disinvited her.
Now, I think that death would have been preferable to the torture of today.
She sits down again, slowly as if she’s approaching a wild, wounded animal. If only she knew just wounded I was…she’d wouldn’t come near me. I need her to know. So she’ll stay away.
“Carter, this is hard for me, too,” she says.
Anger at the gross understatement in that phrase robs me of my good sense.
“It’s not hard, Beth. It’s fucking impossible. This is hard.” I cup my cock through my jeans intending to shock and upset her.
The surprise or fear I expected is nowhere to be found. Instead, there’s a flagrant flare of hunger as they fix on my hand.
Too late, I remember the sorcery those paradise blues are capable of. They ensnare, ensorcel, and enchant me.
My hand, as if doing their bidding, moves up my erection in a long, languid stroke.
Her eyes widen and come to mine.
“Do you want my cock?” I ask in low whisper.
H
er breaths come in shallow pants and her eyes glisten with tears. Her nod is as sorrowful as it is desperate.
I understand.
“I know the way I feel is wrong…but, Beth…baby, my heart fucking beats for you. I fucking breathe for you. My eyes look for you everywhere I go. I thought time would make it better.”
Her hand skims her breast, her thumb pressing in on one of her peaked nipples before moving down her torso and coming to rest on her now spread thighs.
Her tongue moves over her plump bottom lip.
I stroke myself, unable to stop now that I’ve started especially when I can see that she wants the same thing.
“Now I know, nothing will ever make me feel better. Those words you’ve written on your ribs, the same ones are painted on my heart. This feeling is for always.”
She blinks and a single tear runs down her cheek and her throat works hard. But she’s not crying. And her eyes are darkened and hooded by lust.
I know I should stop, but then her thighs fall apart, and her hips tilt up and I know there’s no stopping this.
“Are you wet?” I ask her what I already know.
She nods.
“Say it,” I demand in a low whisper.
“Yes. Very.”
“Touch yourself,” I urge, the devil in me taking over.
Her eyes dart to the hall where my mother and Joe disappeared.
“No one’s coming, do it,” I reassure her.
“Okay,” she whispers. Her chest heaves with a huge inhale before she closes her eyes and slides a hand under her skirt.
I almost come when her arm starts to move.
“Carter,” Her sobbed moan is a command and my hands itch to obey.
Her head falls back, exposing the long column of her exquisite neck, that birth mark right in the center of it is calling my name.
I burn with jealousy at the hand that’s stroking the cunt that was once my salvation. Now, to touch it myself, would spell my ruin.
“Have you fucked anyone else?” My voice is snarl.
“No.” Her moan is quiet but fierce.
“Don’t you want to know if I have?” I ask her eyes fly open, the blue blazing hot and fierce.
“I don’t care. Stop talking,” she says through clenched teeth. And even in my agony, I can’t suppress my chuckle.
Her hand is moving furiously, her breaths coming quicker. Mere seconds later, her knees snap together and her back arches off the couch.
Her face contorts in a wondrous exhibition of the pleasure she’s found and it sends me over the edge.
I come in my pants like a schoolboy. But there’s nothing juvenile about the blistering ecstasy that renders me blind for the seconds it takes to run its course.
I open my eyes to find her laying back, eyes closed, face flushed.
The expression she’s wearing is one I know well.
And this is the last time I’ll ever do it again.
I thought I was equipped for this.
I’ve never been more wrong about anything in my whole life.
This road will lead me straight to a hell I won’t survive. It’s going to hurt. But I already know that pain is an excellent teacher. It succeeded in teaching me lessons that common sense, moral compasses, and love all failed to.
I know what I have to do.
“In every way I can, I love you. But, I can’t live like this…I don’t think we should see each other again,” I say before I stand and walk away.
Free Fall
BETH
My eyes open in time to see Carter shove to his feet and stalk out of the room. If his anger wasn’t clear from his clench jaw, and the curled fists at his side, the slam of the door behind him makes it clear.
I sit there, my feet firmly on the ground but inside, I’m in a free fall. Not because I’m confused about what just happened. But because of the way Carter responded.
I know he’s scared and hurt. Because I am, too. I’ve learned the hard way what happens when I let my fear decide, so I came here despite being afraid because I wanted to try.
He’s got the right to decide that this is not for him. As excruciating as that would be, I wouldn’t hold it against him. But his careless, unilateral pronouncement that our friendship is over leaves me cold and angry.
Whatever the nature of our relationship, I need to be able to trust him. And what he just did, the way he didn’t even stop to consider my feelings, tells me I can’t.
The door to the balcony opens and a gust of frigid air rushes into the room, startling me back to the present. In the disastrous aftermath of our illicit act, I’d forgotten where I was.
I swipe my tear stained face with the back of my hand and try to smile at Jack and Porsha when they come back in.
Jack raises an eyebrow at my failed attempt to hide my despair, and looks around the room, frowning. “Where’s Carter?” he asks.
“Upstairs, I think,” I say my voice tight with tension as I wait for him to make a snide remark. He doesn’t say anything. He glances at Porsha and clears his throat uncomfortably.
“Okay, uh, well, I’ll uh, go see him.”
The thundering of footsteps on the stairs has us turning in unison.
Carter is coming back, but not to join us. He’s got a navy blue, wool winter coat on, and he’s slipping a matching skull cap on.
Penn and Joe come back at the same time.
“I’m to the studio for a bit. Just to clear my head,” he says looking only at his mother.
“Carter, come on. Whatever it is…” Penn says.
“Mom, I’ve got to go,” he says, now not looking at anyone. He’s staring at the window, the muscle in his jaw working.
She sighs wearily. “Jack, will you go with him—“
“I’m not going to drink and I don’t need a babysitter,” he snaps and then closes his eyes, gathering his composure.
When he opens them, the anger is gone and there’s just misery.
“I’m so sorry. I am,” he says and then he turns and heads to the elevator.
Mercifully it opens immediately, and he steps on, and doesn’t turn around. Right before the doors close on him, I see his head drop and wish I could go after him.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” I say and walk down the hall before anyone can respond.
I splash water on my face, and then stare at myself. What is wrong with me.
A sharp knock on the door is the only warning I have before Porsha walks in.
She pulls me into a hug and I let my head fall to her shoulder with a weary sigh. It’s so good to not be alone.
“I’m sorry honey. Do you want to leave?” She asks, in that soothing way.
I’m so tempted to say yes. But if I leave with things like this, it will make everything so much harder. I take in a deep fortifying breath before I sit up straight.
“No, I’m fine. He’s out of my system.”
She leans in, and presses her lips to my ear.
“I see. Is that why you got each other off just now? Because he’s out of your system?”
I lurch away.
“You watched?” I ask in horrified accusation.
She shrugs, zero apology on her face
“Not the whole time, but from where I was sitting I had a good view.”
“Porsha, oh my God.” I cover my face with my hands
“Chill, I looked away once I realized what was going on. I’m not judging you,” she says and squeezes my hand reassuringly.
But my misery is compounded by her compassion. Judgement would at least help me make sense of my muddled emotions.
“This is so hard. But it was harder living without him. And it’s not just him, it’s the family, too. I don’t want to lose them, too.”
Penn and Joe are sitting with their heads bent in deep conversation when we walk back out.
“You okay, kiddo?” Joe asks.
“Yes,” I smile gratefully at him and then look to Penn.
Her eyes are on the stairs
, Carter and Jack’s voices carry down to us and it’s clear they’re arguing. She wrings her hands.
“Penn, I’m sorry if I’ve made things uncomfortable.”
She turns to look at me, surprise widening her bright blue eyes and shakes her head.
“No. You didn’t. I’m sorry that all of this is happening. It’s not your fault. Either of you…I know it must feel so…weird,” she says.
I consider her words.“No…it’s not. I know it should be…but that’s not how I’d describe the way I feel. It’s difficult, but everything worth something is. I’m happy to be with you all. To be with Carter. I don’t know how I’ll feel in a month from now, but right now, I’m okay. And I’m an open book, I have nothing to hide. If you want to ask me something, I’ll tell you.”
“Are you still in love with him?” She asks immediately, as if it’s been on the tip of her tongue.
I stare at my feet, trying to decide how I’ll answer. The truth is practically blasphemy. But after spending the whole day with them, I know that these people care about me. Whatever is going on with me and Carter, they’re a part of my life, too.
I look around the room, at the family I’ve always wanted. I can’t lie to them to save my life.
So, I nod.
When Penn covers her face, I have a flash of fear that she’s going to ask me to leave.
Instead, she gets up and comes over to me, and puts her arms around me and holds me.
“It’s going to be okay. We’re your family now, too. And you don’t ever have to be alone again. We will never hurt you. We won’t ever lie to you. And we won’t ever turn our backs on you.”
She pulls back, cups my now wet cheeks in her warm loving hands and looks me in the eye. “Not for any reason,” she says meaningfully and my heart jumps at the implication of her words and expression.
Phillip Phillips song, starts to play and it takes me a second to register it. But the apprehension that starts to churn in my gut my show on my face because Penn drops her hands.