Ruined: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Monroe, Lilian

  I don’t hear the door open, or the footsteps.

  The first thing I hear is Ashley’s voice when she calls out.

  “Stella! I stopped by the hardware store tonight, I thought we could get started, and—”

  She gasps. Stella and I fly apart from each other. Ashley drops a bucket of paint from one hand and a bag of supplies in the other. The paint can rolls away from her feet, stopping at the wall with a soft thud.

  Ashley is looking between Stella and me as Stella scrambles to button her shirt back up. I clear my throat, adjusting my clothes and wiping my hands on my pants.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Ash, I can explain.”

  “Can you?” Ashley is quickly moving from shock to anger.

  I stand up. “Listen. I don’t want to cause trouble. I care about your sister—”

  “Ha!” Ashley throws up her hands. “‘Don’t want to cause trouble’? Are you fucking kidding me? You tried to ruin my life. You got me fired. You threatened to have me jailed!”

  My chest heaves. I don’t know what to say, because it’s true. I did those things.

  But that was before! Before I met Stella, before I resigned, before I started realizing what a fucking selfish prick I was.

  I open my mouth and leave it hanging like an idiot. Ashley stares at me, and then swings her rage towards her sister.

  “And you,” she starts. “How dare you?”

  “Ashley, please. We’re both adults.” Stella takes a step towards her and Ashley shakes her head. I feel like I’m intruding. My presence is making things more difficult for Stella. Tears are clinging to her eyelashes and she won’t even look at me. I try to put my hand around her waist but she shakes me off, stepping towards her sister again.

  Her sister’s face contorts and she shakes her head. “Fuck you. Fuck you both. You deserve each other,” she snarls. “Two selfish assholes who belong together.”

  The house shakes when she slams the door. Stella trembles, staring after her. She doesn’t make a sound until a sob rakes through her body and she doubles over. I run to her, wrap her up, try to soothe her, but she pushes me away.

  “Stop,” she sobs. “Just get away. Stop. I can’t. I can’t.”

  “Can’t what?”

  “Can’t be with you! Can’t sneak around! I can’t lose my sister.”

  “You won’t lose her.” I say it a bit more aggressively than I meant to, and Stella flinches. I take a breath, but the anger is starting to rise inside me. “If she cares about you, she’ll understand. Stella, you’re allowed to date whoever you want to.”

  Her lower lip is trembling, and my heart is slowly shattering. She’s looking at me through teary eyes and she shakes her head. “I don’t know, Adrian. She… she…”

  She sobs again, and I feel it rattle through my bones. Her pain needles my skin and I desperately want to wrap my arms around her.

  Every time I take a step towards her, she takes a step back. Finally, I give up. My chest hurts. My mouth is dry. My face is twisting as I try to get the words out, but finally I manage to speak.

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  She won’t even look at me to respond. All she does is nod, turning her tear-streaked face away from me. My stomach feels like someone has shoved all my internal organs into a blender and set it on high before pouring them back inside me.

  I take one more step towards her and she sobs.

  “Just go, please, Adrian. I can’t do this right now.”

  I don’t know what that means. I don’t know if this is done forever, if she just wants space tonight, or if she’s regretting being with me at all.

  All I know is she wants me out of her house. It’s another punch in my blended guts. I gather my things and walk out, gently closing the door behind me. I get in my car and just stare at her house, willing her to come running out. I want her to tell me she made a mistake, that she wants me to stay.

  I want her to choose me.

  But she doesn’t. She chooses her sister.

  The door stays closed, and the house stays silent. A light goes off in the living room and the finality of it slices my heart in half.

  I turn the car on and drive away.

  25

  Stella

  Ashley won’t return my calls. This is worse than the first time when she found out I was defending Adrian. After a couple calls, it goes straight to voicemail and I know she’s turned her phone off.

  I slump down on the sofa and put my hand to my forehead. A big gust of wind blows outside and my house creaks. A car drives by, its headlights illuminating my front window.

  I’m so alone.

  I kicked Adrian out without thinking, and Ashley won’t speak to me. It’s just me and my thoughts in my big, old, creaky house.

  I shouldn’t have told him to leave. He was trying to comfort me, trying to help me. Of all the people in my life, Adrian has made me feel stable.

  But in that moment, I couldn’t look at him. My sister has been through so much, and it kills me to think that I’ve contributed to her pain. The way she looked at me…

  I sigh.

  I’m not sure how long I stay in this position on the couch. I feel wired and exhausted at the same time. My mind is going a mile a minute, but my limbs feel like they’re made of lead. I can’t move off the couch, but I can’t rest or sleep or do anything except think of what a shitty sister I am.

  When my phone buzzes, I feel like I’m moving in slow motion. I groan as I lean forward on the couch, reaching for it on the coffee table.

  A part of me wants it to be Ashley, but another part of me doesn’t want to face her right now. What would I say? I have no excuse. Of all the men I could get involved with, I chose the one man who wronged her, the one man who tried to tear her and Liam apart.

  How can I look her in the eye after that? She walked in on us kissing! If that’s not a recipe for trauma, I don’t know what is. With the baby coming, and all the stress that she’s under, I can’t believe I’ve done this to her.

  I’m so selfish. The one thing that I hated Adrian for is what I’ve become.

  I curse myself as I grab my phone, tears threatening to spill over my eyelids. I take a deep breath and look at the screen.

  Adrian: You okay?

  I start sobbing. I cry and cry and cry until my cheeks hurt, my eyes hurt, my chest hurts. Everything is sore. My soul is in pain. I read the message over and over and cover my eyes with my hand.

  Even after I kick him out, he still wants to check up on me.

  How could I hate the man? How could I possibly cut him out of my life when he’s the one person who seems to care about me? He could have been mad at me, insulted that I told him to leave. He could have taken it as a reason to break off our relationship.

  But he isn’t doing that. He’s checking up on me.

  He’s already forgiven me.

  I wipe my eyes, sniffling as I stare at the screen.

  Stella: No. I’m sorry I kicked you out.

  Adrian: It’s okay, I get it.

  That makes me cry some more. My phone buzzes again.

  Adrian: Do you want me to come back?

  I type ‘yes’ before I can stop myself, and then I toss my phone away. I groan, putting my head in my hands and cursing myself.

  I’m not strong enough to stay away from him, and I’m not strong enough to be with him publicly. I’m stuck in this horrible purgatory and I can’t see a way out.

  I hate that I need him, but when he walks through the door, my worries melt away. I’m still glued to the couch, and he kicks his shoes off and comes beside me. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his broad chest without saying a word.

  My tears soak his shirt as he holds me. We say nothing to each other, and yet we say everything.

  I’m here for you, he tells me with his embrace. I’m not going anywhere.

  I lift myself off his chest and look at his face. “I’m sorry I kicked you out.”

 
He wipes a tear from my eye and cups my cheek. He shakes his head and a grin tugs at his lips. “I’m used to it.”

  I laugh, sniffling. He kisses my forehead and pulls me in for another hug.

  “I guess this means you need someone else to help you paint the bedroom tomorrow.”

  I smile into his chest. “Are you offering?”

  “I’m not really a ‘manual labor’ kind of guy, but I’ll do my best.”

  I laugh. “Well, you never know. Last time I checked, you’re out of a job. Maybe painting will be your new calling.”

  The next day, Adrian and I paint the spare bedroom together. I glance at him. He didn’t have any work clothes, so he’s wearing an old t-shirt of mine and a pair of boxers. I can’t help but notice how good his butt looks as he bends over to dip his paintbrush into the can. He edges the walls with new paint and I smile.

  He catches me staring and grins. “You gonna stand there staring all day or are you going to help me paint this thing?”

  “Bit of both,” I wink.

  He flicks his paintbrush towards me. Flecks of paint hit my cheek and neck and I gasp.

  “Hey!”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Oops.”

  I lift my paintbrush towards him, but before I can flick any paint his way, he catches my arm and wraps me in an embrace. He crushes his lips to mine, groaning as he takes the paintbrush and drops it onto the protective plastic on the floor.

  “We’re making a mess,” I say between kisses.

  “I don’t care.”

  He lowers me to the ground and makes love to me. We’re paint-stained, wearing ratty old t-shirts of mine, in a half-painted room in my old house, but it feels more romantic and more intimate than anything I’ve ever done.

  When it’s over, we both sigh as I lay on his chest on the floor. He glances at the walls. “I never knew painting could be so much fun.”

  I grin. “See? I told you it would be your new calling.”

  “Maybe you’re my new calling.” His eyes darken as he brushes his lips against mine. My fingers crawl up his chest and I sigh in his arms.

  My whole world is shifting. My career, my sister—everything. The only thing that feels safe and constant is Adrian. He used to be the one person that made me feel off-balance, but now he’s my rock.

  It takes us all day to paint the room. We take breaks often, tangling ourselves together and making love wherever we fall.

  I don’t think about my sister at all until the evening, when I finally check my phone. It’s still silent, but instead of breaking my heart like it did yesterday, it just stings a little.

  Maybe she just needs time. She’ll come around—at least that’s what Adrian keeps telling me.

  Adrian wraps his arms around my waist and nuzzles his face into my neck.

  “It’ll work out,” he whispers.

  I touch my nose to his and smile sadly. “I hope so.”

  “Don’t worry. She loves you, she’ll understand.”

  26

  Adrian

  I spend all weekend with Stella. I turn my phone off and focus on her, because I can tell that she needs me. That in itself is a revelation for me. Over the past month, focusing on something other than politics, something other than myself, has been more rewarding than the past decade of political ambition.

  In the mornings, her eyes are bloodshot and her face is lined, as if she hasn’t slept at all. She still laughs and smiles, but her smiles fade more quickly than usual.

  It feels good to be there for her. I’m not used to this—I’m not used to caring. I don’t remember the last time that I actually cared how someone else felt.

  I know that makes me an asshole, but it’s true. When I see Stella in pain, it makes my chest ache. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, but it’s more visceral than anything I’ve felt in a long time. Holding her in my arms feels good. Making her smile feels good. Being there for her makes me feel like I have a purpose.

  For the past few years, I’ve been so focused on my political career that I’ve set all my personal relationships aside. I’m starting to realize what I’ve been missing.

  When I leave on Monday morning, I wrap her in one last hug.

  “Have a good day at work.”

  “First day at the new place,” she says with a sigh. “Hopefully it was the right decision.”

  “If it isn’t, I’m sure Theresa will take you back.”

  “I’ll see you tonight.” She kisses me once more, and then we drive off in different directions. I head back to my place. Now that I’m jobless, my days are a lot less busy than they used to be. My father wants me to meet with him this afternoon to discuss a career opportunity with the family business, but the morning is my own.

  I’m still thinking of Stella when I get home. This morning, her smile was a bit easier, and she actually slept through the night. I toss my keys on the console table and glance around my house.

  Objectively, it’s nicer than Stella’s. It’s bigger, on a nicer plot of land, and perfectly styled and furnished. I still prefer being at her house, though. Her place is creaky with a small kitchen, but it is so completely her. It feels like a real home.

  I’ve only taken three steps into the house when there’s a knock on the door. Barry is glancing through the window beside the front door, and I nod at him.

  He grunts when I open the door, slipping past me to let me close it.

  “Your phone was off,” he says. “You weren’t here this weekend.”

  “Were you trying to get a hold of me?”

  He grunts again. His eyebrows draw together and his thick moustache trembles. I know that look. He’s got bad news for me. I gesture towards the living room. We sit down across from each other and he takes a deep breath.

  “It’s Cheryl,” he finally says.

  I frown. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s talking to the press.”

  “About what?” My mouth goes dry. “What are you talking about?”

  Barry shakes his head. “I thought you trusted her.”

  “I did! I do!” I shake my head, staring at the big man across from me. He huffs.

  “She’s giving an exclusive interview to talk about the deal with Hansen Constructions.”

  “What?!”

  Barry grunts. He stands up and starts pacing the living room. I watch him, mouth agape.

  “Barry, explain yourself. Fucking Cheryl! I’ll kill her! What is she saying?”

  “I don’t know yet.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and glances out the big bay windows. He shakes his head. “My contacts at the Post told me it was happening tonight.”

  “She’s talking to the Denver Post?! Not even a tabloid—a real newspaper?”

  I drop my head in my hands and massage my temples. I groan, rocking back and forth on the couch. I shake my head.

  “That’s impossible. She wouldn’t.”

  “She is.”

  “She wouldn’t.”

  Barry just stares at me, his eyes dark and unreadable. I shake my head.

  “Cheryl has been by my side for years. She wouldn’t do that to me. I’ve already resigned! They dropped the case a month ago! It’s over.”

  Barry sighs. “The media are dogs.”

  “I need to talk to her.”

  I grab my phone and turn it on. It starts buzzing with missed calls—most of them from Barry. Once it stops updating, I find Cheryl’s number. She doesn’t answer the first time I call, but I keep trying until she picks up.

  “What the fuck, Cheryl?”

  “Adrian.”

  She says nothing else. My whole body is shaking. Barry is staring at me, his face unreadable. He leans towards me to listen.

  “Cheryl, why the fuck are you talking to the Post? What is your angle here?”

  “My angle, Adrian, is that after all the years we’ve been together, after everything I’ve done for you, you haven’t so much as spoken to me since you announced your resignation. It’s been a month, Adrian
, and you haven’t called once. I’ve given up my life to be by your side. I’ve turned down career opportunities.” She takes a deep, trembling breath. “I… I love you. Everything I’ve done has been for you. And how do you repay me? By shacking up with some lawyer with big tits who hates your guts?”

  I’m speechless. I glance at Barry, frowning.

  “Cheryl… I… what?”

  She sniffs and then chuckles bitterly. “I thought we had something, Adrian.”

  “We did! We do! Cheryl, you’re the most loyal person I’ve ever met. We’re a team! I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

  “No, you couldn’t have. But never once in our decade together have I heard you say that. Never once have you acknowledged what’s between us. And now, when it’s all over and we can finally be together, you throw me out with the trash and move on to a shiny new toy.”

  “Cheryl…”

  “She’s not going to stay with you. She doesn’t love you the way that I do. She’ll never love you the way that I do. I know what her sister did. I know what you did. I know everything, and I’m going to tell everyone. You’ll see, that lawyer doesn’t care about you. I’m going to the Post tonight and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  The line goes dead before I can answer. I stare at my phone in shock, and then swing my eyes up to Barry.

  “What…?” I frown and shake my head. “I don’t… how…”

  Barry takes a deep breath and sits down. He stares at the carpet and shakes his head. “I knew she was in love with you, but I never knew it got this bad.”

  “In love with me?! You knew? What do you mean?”

  Barry looks at me like I’m as dense as a block of wood. “Adrian. Wake up. A woman isn’t going to do everything that Cheryl did for you just because you’re paying her.”

  “It was her job to do those things.”

  Barry chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re an idiot, you know that? You’ve got book smarts, and you’re good at talking to people and making them feel good, but you’re a fucking idiot, Adrian.”