The Lies We Tell

by Butler, Brittany

  At the table, Collin is at the end, and Jack is on the other side of me. My mom sits across from us, smiling. She’s oblivious to everything. She’s always so happy. How did she end up with a daughter like me?

  “What do you do, Jack?” Collin asks.

  I load my plate with mashed potatoes and chicken before passing dishes. My mom knows I need all the carbs. I watch Collin as he slowly loads his plate.

  “I teach middle school math.” Jack looks at me before cutting his eyes back to his plate. He looks like he has something to say. I explained to him over the phone that Collin just wanted to meet him, but he seems uncomfortable.

  “Impressive. I am a writer, like Natalie.”

  “She told me.”

  Collin nods. “I am glad she rekindled old friendships,” he says, smiling at me. “She needed that. I just hope it is not too hard when we leave tonight.”

  “It is a little late to be driving back tonight,” Jack says.

  “That’s what I said, too,” my mom says. She points at Jack with her wine glass to agree with him.

  “Are you waiting another five years to come back?” Jack’s eyes lock with mine.

  I force a laugh. “I’ll visit more.”

  “What was stopping you before?” He stares at Collin.

  I shrug my shoulders, feeling weird about tension. “Bad memories I guess.”

  “Jack, dear, your mom said you are looking for a new school,” my mom says.

  Jack doesn’t say anything else to me, but he’s implying something that I don’t care for. My mom and Jack talk like they are old friends visiting for the first time in years. I don’t mind though, it keeps the conversation off of me.

  After dinner is over, everyone is quick to leave the table. My mom cleans the table and Collin starts to gather our things. Jack walks to the door, and I follow him.

  “I’ll walk you out,” I say.

  “Yeah, thanks,” he mumbles as he walks outside. Turning to face me, he stops short of his truck.

  “So, you are back with him?”

  “He’s my husband…we’re working on things.”

  “He seems a bit controlling…you don’t come in five years…then we start hanging out, and he pops up? You don’t think that’s kind of weird?”

  “Collin controlling?”

  He nods in response.

  “You don’t know him…if he was the least bit controlling, I don’t think your little comments back there would fly. What was that?”

  “I just don’t think you know him,” he says, shrugging. I roll my eyes at him. We used to fight like we needed it to breathe, and it appears that we are the same after all of these years apart.

  “You are insane. I am married to him…I’ve known him for years!”

  The front door opens, and Collin steps out. He leaves our bags by the door and walks to me. He looks at me, concerned, silently asking if I am okay.

  “I think you need to leave,” Collin says.

  Jack shakes his head, looking between the two of us. I watch him walk to the driver side, wishing things could be different. He looks at me one last time before leaving, and I almost lose it. I haven’t seen him in five years, yet it feels like he never left my life at all. Maybe I am selfish for wanting him as a friend.

  “You didn’t deserve that,” Collin says.

  I shake my head. “Nobody deserved me coming back into their lives only to leave again.”

  He kisses my forehead. I watch him grabs our bags and put them in my truck. “Ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  My mom walks out and hugs us before we leave.

  “Don’t wait so long to see me,” she says.

  “I won’t. Promise,” I say.

  “Text me if you need me,” Collin says.

  I pull out my phone before I leave. I haven’t checked on Tabatha, and I am anxious to tell her about everything that has happened.

  Natalie: Collin came to get me. We had dinner with Jack together!

  Tabatha: I knew he was coming. He called.

  What?

  Natalie: What did he want?

  Tabatha: Your mom called him. He wanted to know everything that was going on…

  Natalie: What did you tell him???

  Tabatha: Everything. I told him to bring you back before it was too late.

  He pulls out before me, and I follow behind in my car. My mom waves from the yard as I leave. This place brings out the worst in me. I am not coming back in five years or ten or ever.

  I am not mad at Tabatha. A heads up would have been nice, but I am not mad. I watch Collins taillights, wondering what he’s thinking right now. Guilt crashes into me like a wave.

  Today is the day I am getting married. I count to ten, slowly releasing a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. Don’t get me wrong, I am in love with Collin. I’ll be with that guy for the rest of my life. I am not worried about marrying him. I am concerned about the crowds of people that are gathered here to watch us.

  I am having a wedding, and I am not running out this time. I smile to myself. Collin is perfect. He doesn’t have a temper, and we never fight. He’s my best friend.

  “What’s so funny?” Tabatha asks, cocking her eyebrow at me. She looks so beautiful in her pale- pink dress. Her hair is curled, and it falls down her back in waves.

  “The past,” I say.

  She rolls her eyes. “We’re not talking about the past; only the future and your future is standing behind that door.’

  She points her finger beyond the kitchen door, and I grin. I look out over her parents’ backyard, taking it all in. Lights hang from the oak tree, and tables pepper the lawn. The archway is barely visible from here. Collin stands there waiting for me in front of twenty of our closest friends and family.

  On cue, the music starts playing. I look at Tabatha, horrified. All of my common sense has left the building.

  “You’ll be fine,” she assures me, smiling.

  “What if I trip?”

  “The guests aren’t allowed to have phones, remember? Nobody can record it,” she says, shrugging.

  “The photographer and videographer?”

  “Yeah…don't trip. That would be embarrassing.” She grasps my shoulders, laughing. She catches a tear that fell from her eyes, refusing to let it ruin her makeup.

  “If anyone in this world deserves happiness, it is you,” she says.

  She picks up our bouquets and hands mine to me. She clutches the pastel flowers against her chest, smiling at me like a proud parent.

  “Let’s do this thing,” I say, getting uncomfortable with the emotions that have taken over the small room.

  “You’re the most beautiful bride in the world,” she says.

  Smiling, I catch my reflection in the mirror before walking out. My black hair is falling down my back in loose waves. It is a stark contrast to my white dress. The lace fabric is tight fitting, covering my arms and stopping at my feet. The back is open, but the rest is modest.

  She’s right. I look beautiful. She opens the door, and I follow her down the path, focusing on my feet. As we near the back of the lawn, I look up. Avoiding the people, I focus on the arch, hiding behind Tabatha.

  The arch is dark wood and covered with white flowers and lights. The sun is dipping behind the clouds as night falls. I can’t hide my smile. This is perfect. I lower my sight, looking at Collin’s best man, and then landing on Collin.

  His face breaks into a perfect grin as I see him for the first time. My face actually heats with embarrassment. I never get embarrassed, but being in front of everyone so vulnerable does the trick.

  He looks perfect in a cream suit with a white shirt tucked underneath. A pale pink flower is attached at his chest. He’s perfect.

  I pause in front of him, and he grabs my hands, pulling me to our places in front of the minister. He holds my hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. Grinning, I try to listen to what the minister says.

  “We are ga
thered here today in the sight of God, and the presence of friends and loved ones, to celebrate one of life’s greatest moments, to give recognition to the worth and beauty of love, and to add our best wishes and blessings to the words which shall unite Collin Adams and Natalie Conner in holy matrimony.”

  “Collin, do you take Natalie to be your wife? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only to her forevermore?”

  He grins at me as he slips the ring on my finger. “I do.”

  “Natalie, do you take Collin to be your Husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others and holding only to him forevermore?”

  I slip the ring on his finger before nervously managing to say, “I do.”

  I look at him through blurry eyes. His smile is contagious. I let out a small laugh and wipe my eyes, mindful of my makeup.

  “Collin and Natalie in so much as the two of you have agreed to live together in Matrimony, have promised your love for each other by these vows, the giving of these rings and the joining of your hands, I now declare you to be husband and wife.”

  Collin grabs the back of my head, bringing my lips to his. It is hard to smile and kiss at the same time, and it is the most awkward limbo in the history of kisses. We break free, and he leads me down the aisle. I stop to hug my mom and Tabatha before following after him.

  He leads me in the house and up the stairs.

  “Where are we going? The reception is starting,” I say.

  He turns to me, grinning wickedly as he opens the door to Tabatha’s childhood bedroom. “That can wait.”

  I look back down the stairs, knowing we should probably go down there. Against my better judgment, I follow him in the room. I would follow him anywhere.

  He wastes no time. He pulls his tie off and slips his shoes off, never taking his eyes off of me. My stomach is in knots. There is something about the vows that we just said that makes this feel like the first time.

  He stalks over to me, lust fills his eyes. I wait for him to kiss me. Instead, he goes to work unbuttoning my dress. Lingering on my skin and planting kisses as he works.

  After what feels like an eternity, he moves in front of me. My dress drops to the floor, and he grins as he takes in my white lingerie.

  Finally, he kisses me. One hand slips behind my head, pulling me close to him and the other goes to work taking off my lingerie. Impatiently, I take his belt off and fumble with his button-down shirt and pants before they hit the ground, pooling beside my dress.

  I pull away and fall on the bed. Biting my bottom lip, I look up at him.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  He climbs on top of me and gives himself wholly to me. His lips move down my neck, nicking as he goes. I watch him with hooded eyes. My breathing is shallow. Needing him to be closer, I rock my hips into him, and that’s all the encouragement he needs, after tossing my shirt to the side, he dips down and sucks on my right breast. Looking up at me with a sly grin, he tugs at my nipple. I dig my heels into the sheets and thread my fingers through his hair, pulling.

  He pushes himself off of me and crouches by his pants. The crinkling package makes its presence known before I see it. As he brings it to his mouth, I sit up, enjoying my favorite part of the show. Using his teeth, he tears the top of the package. His eyes never leave mine as he tugs his briefs down. He leans over the bed, with his hands placed on each side of my thigh, he kisses me softly.

  “Today was the best day of my life,” he says against my lips.

  I am past the point of talking now. I silence him by pressing my lips to his. Finally, he disposes of the only clothing separating us and rolls the condom on. He lies on me, half of his weight is supported by his left hand, the other half crashes into me. His right- hand glides up my thigh, only stopping before his fingers plunge inside, and I let out a gasp.

  “Get on top.”

  I roll over and straddle him. Enjoying the new pressure, this brings. I rock into him until he stops me.

  “Turn around. Face the other way,” he said.

  He rubs his hand on the small of my back, grinning. He tugs me down to his chest. His lips meet mine with a slow, sensual kiss. Then he pulls away.

  “I want to make you feel good,” he says.

  His hand's loop around my waist, helping me position over him and gently presses me down so that he slides in. I get used to this new position; I can feel every inch of him in me.

  I begin to rock, biting my lip when it becomes too much. His fingers trail down my spine, stopping at my waist. He bumps into me, matching my rhythm. The pleasure intensifies each with each movement.

  “Turn around, I wanna see you riding me,” he whispers.

  He pats my backside, encouraging me to move. With his help, I face him without skipping a beat. His pace speeds up, pushing me to keep up. His face is flushed with pleasure, and his eyes snap shut. I circle my hips around, loving the look on his face. His hand drops down and rubs me until I come crashing down into his chest. I bury my face against him, hoping the guests don’t hear.

  “Collin,” I moan.

  “That’s right. I am the only one that makes you this good.”

  He hooks his arm around my neck, pulling me closer to him. With his hand rubbing me, and the new pleasure, my body trembles in satisfaction as I cry out. I mash my lips into his, hoping to drown out the noise, and I feel him tremble. His hand slides down, and in one movement I am lying flat on my back, looking up at him in awe. He pumps in and out of me, giving all of himself to me. He plants a kiss on my lips, grinning sleepily.

  “I can’t wait to do this forever,” he says.

  “Forever,” I repeat, loving the sound of that. I smile against his mouth, knowing I will be with Collin forever.

  The house cheerful today. It isn’t empty, the light is welcomed, and I feel hopeful. Collin is cooking while I read over my work in progress. Taking a sip of my coffee, I find Collin watching me. He’s leaning against the counter, smiling at me.

  “I made your plate,” he says.

  Looking around my laptop, I find the perfect amount of fat and carbs. Bacon and biscuits. My most favorite breakfast food in this world.

  “Thank you,” I say, grinning.

  He sits next to me, and I wrinkle my nose at his plate. Eggs. How does anyone eat yellow slime that comes out of a chicken’s butt?

  “Don’t start with me,” he says after he notices my expression.

  “I just lost my appetite,” I say. He rolls his eyes at me. Grinning, I bring my plate closer. Picking at my food as I write.

  “What are you working on?”

  My face heats. We used to talk about our work all the time. We even wrote together most days, but that feels so far away. It would be awkward to tell him what I am working on. I have a lot of feelings.

  “I am not sure yet. I wrote an idea down, and I am seeing where it goes,” I lie.

  His eyes trace every inch of my face before nodding. He can see right thru my lies. If I am being honest, I am not ready for him to know.

  “Let me know when you’re ready to talk, yeah?”

  “Will do.”

  “It looks like you had a big idea,” he says, Pointing to my screen with his coffee cup in hand. In the bottom corner, over eighty thousand words are counted.

  I think back to the sleepless nights and all of my journal entries. I decided to put it into a book and see where this goes. Sometimes people don’t need hearts and flowers, sometimes they need real life.

  “I guess you can say that.”

  “Now I am intrigued.”

  “I can’t tell you…it might change the ending,” I say, repeating what he has told me before. He smiles and shakes his head at me.

  The rest of breakfast is eaten in silence. Other than my nails clicking the keyboard as I type. My book is extra, and so am I.

  “Are we going to talk about it?” Collin asks.

  He’s drying the dishes as I h
and them to him. Sometimes I wish that we could forget everything and start over, but I guess it doesn’t always work out like that.

  “I waited for you to come back.”

  “I waited for you to ask,” he says. His accent always gives him an advantage. I almost apologize every time he speaks.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “We both said that I should come back,” he says, smiling.

  I walk into the living room, and he follows me. I take the end of the couch that we brought from my apartment. He sits on the other end, waiting for the verdict.

  I nod. “Will it work? We have to agree to work through things. No drinking and ignoring each other.”

  “Deal,” he says. His smile is beautiful. He slides to my end of the couch and wraps his arms around me. “We’ll never go back to that.”

  I nod, agreeing with him. I hope he’s right.

  The weather is cooling, and the leaves are falling. I walked down the sidewalk of my old neighborhood, seeing if anything was calling my name today. I did this from time to time; being out of the house almost made me feel normal.

  I’ve grown numb over the past months. I spend my time typing words, then erasing them, pretending that I am productive. Anything I can do to be alone.

  Everyone is smiling today. The holidays seem to bring out either the best or worst in people. I don’t even bother anymore. I use to spend it at my parents home, then my mother started coming to me. This year, I’ve brought up every excuse in the book to spend it alone.

  My car is parked ahead of me. I almost turn and run in the other direction, but my feet are killing me. I look down at my spiked, red- bottom shoes, deciding to walk to my car. I dress up with nowhere to go. Whatever I can do to make myself feel normal; to feel anything.

  I dread the twenty-minute drive back. Sometimes I wonder what exactly went wrong. My doctor uses words like “depression” and “anxiety” while assuring me this happens to almost everyone. But I am not everyone. It can’t happen to me.

  I stop in front of the garage, staring at our place. It is gorgeous, the kind of home you would see in a magazine. The house is dark brick with white stones surrounding the windows and the large wooden door. We bought it to raise our family in, and now it is haunting.