What About Us

by Sidney Halston

  “He didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you to be implicated in his crime. Or for the money to be confiscated.”

  Interesting. That sounded like he was defending my father’s actions.

  “I could’ve discarded the luggage.”

  “I guess it was a risk he was willing to take.”

  I shrug. “I probably should’ve gone to the police with it. I know that. And maybe it makes me a terrible person; maybe it does make me an accomplice somehow. I don’t know. But I kept it. I used it to buy my house. It’s a modest little home, but it’s the only thing I have, and it kept me safe for the last seven years.”

  “Why are you living in a hotel, then?”

  “So, there’s one dumber thing I’ve done.” I wince, because of all the things, this is the stupidest. “I stupidly put the house under both mine and Luke’s names because we were engaged, so now I can’t kick him out.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

  “Why should I have? You think I’m shit. You’re just my boss and you’ve given me no reason to think you care in any way.”

  “I’m not just your boss.”

  “You think my father stole from your family. You just accused me of trying to trap you by getting pregnant.”

  He looks contrite at those words. His lips turn down, but they’re softer. Less angry, more regretful. “I’m sorry I said that.” He rakes his fingers through his already disheveled hair. “I’ve been holding a grudge for a long time. Maybe I’ve been wrong.”

  “You abandoned me. You didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt. You may not trust me, but I don’t trust you either. I have no reason to. Everyone I’ve ever cared for has left me one way or another.” He begins to say something, but I’m done listening to him. He wanted me to talk, so I’m going to let it all out. “So now you know everything. And the only reason I’m still married is because I can’t afford a divorce. So now, on top of all the regrets I have, pining for you, even after all the shit you made me go through, I have all that wasted time to add to my list. Oh, and fucking you. That’s up there too.” Since he said it so vulgarly, I may as well not pretend it’s anything more than what it was. I won’t ever admit it, but angry or not, it was the best sex of my life.

  How depressing is that?

  I’m done. Done with assholes. Done with the Archers. Done being stupid and naïve. I’m. Done. I push him aside before adding, “Which is why I had to accept this stupid job with a stupid boss. Next time you doubt me, ask me. Don’t be sneaky about it. Don’t kiss me out of some odd spiteful need for revenge. Just…just stop fucking hurting me, Alex!”

  “For twelve years I blamed you for my father’s death,” he says suddenly. It’s not said in the cold, robotic, insensitive manner he sometimes uses when he speaks to me. It’s said almost like a thought he’s accidentally voiced out loud. My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth and there’s an egg-sized ball lodged in my throat. “You probably heard he died, but you probably didn’t know how.”

  He’s right. I didn’t know. His death was on the news and I’d heard about it and mourned him, even though I was still angry at the Archers. But this other information I absolutely did not know.

  My lips begin to tremble, followed by most of my body. “W-what?”

  He’s looking through me, not at me, when he continues. “When we lost the house, he couldn’t cope and he shot himself. Blood everywhere. I found him.”

  My legs give way and I have to grab on to a table by the door to keep myself upright. Now it all makes sense. I’d hate me too if I were him. God, I feel like a selfish cow. While I’d been harping about my problems, my regrets, my hardship, I’d failed to see how much Alex had suffered. Regardless of whether that suffering was at the hands of my father or not, it was still a horrible trauma he had to endure.

  I go to reach for him, but he takes an almost imperceptible step away from me. “Alex…” It comes out in a broken whisper. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t know.”

  “Don’t apologize.”

  “But—”

  He puts out his hand to stop me “No. Don’t. There’s too much ugliness between us. Things that can’t ever be forgiven or rectified. This…” he says as he looks between us, “shouldn’t have happened.”

  He’s right. It just makes the mess that is our relationship messier. He turns around, seemingly overcome with emotions, much like I am. So, I walk out of his bedroom, head down the stairs, snatch my purse off the foyer table, and run out the door.

  * * *

  —

  My body’s still tingly and my lips still burn from that kiss. I’d been kissed before, but it had never been that way. What he had done to my body…it wasn’t sex—it was…erotic. It’s not at all how I pictured sex with Alex to be. It wasn’t gentle and sweet and Prince Charming-esque. And yet, somehow it was oddly right that he would fuck with so much unrestrained passion and anger.

  For a moment, I thought that all my adolescent fantasies were going to come true and whatever I’d thought of the Archers was wrong. Obviously, there had to have been a misunderstanding, because someone who I was supposed to loathe would not make me feel that wonderful. Except, he’d opened his mouth and spoken and ruined everything. Everything. And then, he’d crushed me with a final blow by telling me about his father. I’d been wrong about Alex. Maybe he did abandon me, but he’d had his own problems to deal with. I’ve been, holding a grudge against a man who found his father’s dead body!

  From orgasm to anger to sadness to shame—all within the span of a few heart-wrenching minutes.

  The tears blind me.

  When will I ever learn?

  Alex and I will never happen. Not truly.

  I have to quit. We can’t work together. It’ll destroy us both. There’s too much anger and hurt.

  I dial Gina as I drive out of Alex’s driveway. “I did something stupid,” I sob into the phone.

  “Oh honey…what happened?”

  Why are there stupid tears leaking out of my eyes? I look in my rearview mirror and barely recognize the person staring back at me. My cheeks are red, my lips are puffy, and there’s a little beard-burn around my mouth where he ravaged me. These tears serve as a reminder that all the Archers know how to do is hurt me.

  I won’t let myself forget again.

  “I slept with Alex.”

  “Alex? As in Alex Archer. The Alex Archer you’ve been pining for for years. The guy that screwed you and your father over?”

  “I quit my job to work for him and then we ended up screwing against the wall of his bedroom.”

  “Whoa! Back the hell up, chick. The last time I saw you, you told me Alex was a jerk. How did that turn into you quitting your job?”

  I tell her what happened at the club the other night and what happened just now. When I’m done, there is an uncharacteristic silence on her end. “Why were you working at the nude part of Duality?”

  I let out a sigh. “I needed money. Luke’s back.”

  “Helen! Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I knew you’d want to help and you have your own things going on. I was handling it.”

  “Clearly.”

  “Your sarcasm is duly noted.”

  “Stay at my house tonight. We’ll talk and figure things out.”

  “No!” I say quickly. “I’m not going to impose. I have the two grand he gave me and I’ll go to Duality and ask for my job back.” I sniffle again. “It’s fine. Really I just needed to vent.”

  “Helen…” I hear her frustration over the phone. She’s taken on the role of my best friend, and also mom and dealer of tough love. “Look at the bright side: now that you know that Alex sucks in bed, you can finally move on. Plus, the fact that he’s a dickhead is confirmed
.”

  I moan into the phone. “But…it was so good. I hate that it was so good, G. I mean, it was amazing. But then it all got screwed up when we talked. We shouldn’t ever talk. Maybe that’s the only way we could work.”

  “Oh geez…” she sighs. “I think you shouldn’t quit. He didn’t actually fire you, right?”

  “No. Well, I don’t think so. But after everything, I can’t go back. I can’t look him in the face. I’ve been a selfish cow!”

  “No, you have not,” she says, firmly. “It’s not a competition of whose shit is more fucked up. It’s both bad and you were both wrong. You by assuming he abandoned you and holding a grudge, and him by thinking you were at fault for his father’s death and their financial demise. You,” she says, even more firmly, “did not hold a gun to his father’s head, and you,” she again punctuates, “did not take their money.”

  This is true.

  “It’s so messed up, G.”

  “And will it become un-messed up by you quitting and pretending none of the crap you’ve learned in the last few hours didn’t happen?”

  “No, I guess not. And I still have the Luke thing hanging over my head. Which is why I’m in this mess to begin with.”

  “So, go back tomorrow. Try to move on, somehow. It’s a great salary and opportunity he’s giving you. He can’t be all that bad if he’s doing that, right?”

  “He’s not bad at all,” I admit.

  “And honey, I’m gonna add something that might piss you off, but as your friend, I’m gonna tell you anyway. It’s time you move on from being a bartender. Unless that’s really what you want to do for the rest of your life.”

  “No. But I didn’t go to college and—”

  “You are always full of excuses, babe. You are still stuck in what happened all those years ago. It happened. It sucked. But it is what it is, and you can’t just decide that because life dealt you that blow twelve years ago, now you can only work at a bar. You can go back to school or look for a job somewhere else. Maybe this is the push you needed to finally get on with things.”

  Get on with things? I’ve been living day by day for so long, I never thought long-term. I never thought of my future. But, no. I don’t want to work at a nightclub for the rest of my life. I get home when most people are waking up. The noise sometimes gets to me and there’s no real room for advancement.

  “When did you get so smart?”

  “I’m not smart. I’ve just been screwed over enough times to know when it’s time to put on my big-girl panties and take control of things myself.”

  “I love you, Gina.”

  “It’s going to be okay, Helen. I promise. And if you need anything, you always have my couch to crash on. Things will never be that bad again that you feel you’re at the end of your rope, you hear me?”

  “I hear you. Thanks again.”

  “Love you, girl,” she says, and then she’s gone.

  I mull over what she said. The worst has passed and I survived. I can always go back to Duality if things really take a turn for the worse with Alex. But, meanwhile, I can take his money while he’s offering it, fix my life, and then never, ever talk to Alexander Archer again

  The only thing I have to remember is that I can never, ever sleep with him again.

  * * *

  —

  I’m about to park my car at the motel when I see a bunch of police officers and yellow tape all along the street. I slam my fists against the steering wheel. What the hell is happening now?

  If there is one single thing I’ve learned from life, it’s that things change from minute to minute. A few weeks ago, everything seemed perfect, or as perfect as it was ever going to get for me. I was fine. And then shit went south. Fast.

  I open my window. “Officer? Excuse me, officer, what is going on? I’m renting one of the rooms.”

  “Ma’am, no one can get in for the time being. It’s a crime scene. You can call the management company later tonight about getting back in.”

  “I have all my things inside.”

  “Like I said, you can call the management company later.” The officer is already looking away and barking orders at someone else. What the hell happened?

  And again…I’m homeless.

  I drive away, not sure where to stay or what to do. I’m so damn tired.

  I head to the drive-thru of McDonald’s, order some food, and then park in the lot to eat it. I hope my stuff is still in my rented room. And when can I even get back in?

  I slide my seat back and turn on the music. Maybe I will have to crash at Gina’s after all. But she’s in a new relationship, and I don’t know that I want to stay at her studio apartment with her and her new guy. Where the hell do I go now?

  I close my eyes and talk to my mother.

  Mom, it’s been a long time since we spoke. I miss you. I feel so lost. Bad things keep happening, no matter how hard I work. How hard I try to keep smiling and moving on. What am I supposed to do now?

  I let out a big sob.

  Should I quit? Should I go back to the club? I just need a little clarity. A little direction.

  A few minutes later my phone rings, and I answer it without looking at the caller ID.

  “I have plenty of spare rooms. Come stay here. Hate me or not, it’s better than sitting at a McDonald’s parking lot,” Alex says, without a greeting.

  I look through the windshield and see the security detail. Shit. How had I forgotten about that?

  “Helen?”

  “I’m fine, Alex. Thank you for your concern. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be at your house tomorrow morning. Good night.”

  “Helen—”

  But I’ve already shut the phone down. I’m relieved that I’m not fired, although I was planning on going to work anyway. Even if I won’t sleep at his house, at least I have options. There were so many times I didn’t. And it feels pretty good.

  Thanks, Mom.

  I straighten the car seat and decide to splurge for the night at the nearest Holiday Inn, where I take a nice shower and eat a bunch of vending machine food until I pass out.

  The next morning, I go back to my motel room to dress. I try to ignore the yellow tape that lingers at the entrance of the building. At least they let me inside. Once I’m ready for work, I pack up all my things and let the office know I won’t be returning. I prefer to sleep in my car. Luckily, I may have just enough to rent another apartment now. Nothing as nice as my home, but better than this shithole. I stuff my things into the trunk of my car and head to work.

  On my way, I call Luke.

  “Are you over your snit?” he greets me snidely.

  Nice way to answer your phone, asshole.

  “You hit me. It wasn’t a snit.” I hear a lot of noise behind him. Mostly laughter. I ignore it.

  “When are you coming home, sweets? Or, you wanna come surprise me again while I’m not home?”

  “I’m not going back. I want a divorce, Luke. I’m serious. This needs to end.”

  He laughs. “I love you. You love me. We’re not divorcing. Come home and stop being a bitch.”

  I groan and hang up. He calls me back twice. I ignore it both times.

  When I get to Alex’s house, I’m relieved when I don’t see his car there. I don’t want to deal with him at the moment.

  I take out the dress I’m going to wear to the event tonight so it doesn’t wrinkle in my car. The house has enough rooms that Alex won’t notice if I hang it in one of the closets. I’ve been wanting to wear the long, mermaid-cut dress since I found it in a thrift store three years ago, but I hadn’t had the occasion to wear it until now. It’s not brand name, but it’s an excellent material and looks expensive.

  After I’ve stashed the dress in a spare room, along with
my makeup bag, I walk downstairs and hear Monique barking orders at everyone. I’m a little taken aback—she wasn’t like that yesterday.

  “Are you okay?” I ask once I reach Monique. It’s not my place, but she seems out of sorts.

  “Yes. Sorry. I just…Bradley is going into surgery today for his leg. I guess I’m a little anxious about it.”

  “Okay?”

  She lets out a deep breath and I watch as she jots notes frantically. Suddenly I realize what the problem is. Gently, I touch her hand, taking the pen from her. “You’re really worried. You have a thing for Bradley, huh?”

  Her eyes widen and she shakes her head. She opens her mouth and then closes it.

  “Bradley doesn’t know?” I ask.

  “I…uh…”

  “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. I have things under control here. Really. If you want to catch an earlier flight, I completely understand.”

  She bites her lower lip.

  “Really. It’s fine. I got this. Go.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be fine?” she asks. “Alex gets upset when things aren’t the way he likes them to be and—”

  “Alex’ll get upset no matter what. So, let’s forget Alex for a moment. This Bradley guy, you think he’ll be upset if you flew in early?”

  “No. No. I…He’ll be okay with it. I think.” She smiles widely. “I mean, yes. I think he’ll be fine. Here,” she says, handing me a credit card and directions. “This is a company card for incidentals. Also, Alex has an open line of credit at this store. You can go anytime today to purchase a dress and shoes or whatever you need for the event.”

  “I’ll be fine, Monique. Really. Now go.”

  It’s funny how this strong, assertive woman seems so soft and uncertain when talking about the man she’s clearly in love with. It’s refreshing and sweet, and I want her to leave and find her happiness, even if I just met her. I take the list from her hand. It’s long and I have no idea what half of it means, but I’ll figure it out.

  She gives my hand a squeeze. “Thank you!” Then, without further hesitation, she runs off.