The Trouble With Before

by Portia Moore

Her phone begins to ring. It says Hubby, and there’s a really adorable picture of the two of them that makes me smile.

  She answers as she gets back into her side of the booth. “Yeah, I’m good. We’re having a blast. Another hour before they close, then you can head back. Love you babe.” She hangs up.

  I look at her, and she beams.

  “What’s it like to have that?” I ask. She smiles in a way I’m a little jealous of.

  “It’s amazing, and worth all of the toads I had to kiss and bugs I had to step on,” she says. “So you and Aidan . . .” She smirks.

  I roll my eyes at her.

  “I knew it. In high school, I sensed the chemistry then,” she brags.

  “There was no chemistry then, and there is no me and Aidan now.” I say the last part with melancholy that surprises me.

  She pouts. “But you want there to be.”

  “I don’t know . . . it’s just right now, he’s the only real friend I have. I can’t risk telling him how I feel, not to mention my feelings have never helped me make the best decisions.”

  She frowns at me. “Well, girly, now you have two real friends, even if I’m a few states away.”

  I have to admit that makes me feel better.

  “And then you were a teenager, and that was just a really bad situation,” she admits, but her expression is forgiving, not full of contempt. “Now you’re a grown woman who has learned from her mistakes, and Aidan has known you longer than even I have. What if this is real?”

  Her question gives me butterflies. I shake my head. “Aidan’s my best friend, and that’s sort of the problem. I know how he is with women; I know that the idea of commitment or someone professing their feelings for him will send him running in the other direction. Aidan is the quintessential playboy. Plus he knows everything I’ve done. How could he love me after all of that? I’m still surprised he’s even friends with me.”

  “Lisa, would you stop convincing yourself that you deserve to die alone and unhappy? Do you really believe that?” she asks, sounding irritated.

  I shrug. “I hurt a lot of people. What if that is my fate?”

  She frowns at me. “I believe we make our own fate. I bet Aidan believes that too.”

  The rest of our night isn’t so heavy. We reminisce about high school. She tells me about all of the people who annoy her at work and updates me on her snobby sisters. I give her some of the gossip from the restaurant, and she rolls her eyes at all the right parts and smiles when I do, and I feel as if we’re back in her room ten years ago. My one earlier shot and watered down rum punch did nothing for me, but she’s more than tipsy when her husband comes in to walk her out. She fusses at him that she’s not drunk, and he agrees with her but gives me a knowing smile. She hugs me tightly before she makes me promise to call her and to come visit before the end of the year. I promise her and mean it.

  Before they’re out the door, she tilts her body halfway back into the restaurant. “And don’t let those sluts get their hands on Aidan.”

  Isaac affectionately pulls her outside.

  I go to the back and grab my stuff, then I head out with a real smile. I pull out my phone before getting into my car and pull up Will’s name. I text him, asking if I can pick up Willa from school on Monday and have a girls’ day, and my night literally feels complete.

  I HAD PLANNED on going to the bar to wait until Lisa got off work, but when she sent me the text saying to not come, it kind of stung. Especially after what happened this morning . . .

  I want to see her. I hate her working at Ardeby’s—it just seems like a step back—but I can’t lie and say I hate the way she looks there. She’s always in outfits that cling to every curve on her body, and she does herself up in a way that makes her look like the definition of sex without showing much. I’ve always thought that girls with more clothes on make you want them more, when they reveal just enough that you can’t stop thinking about what they’re hiding under there. With Lisa walking around the house in oversized T-shirts and baggy shorts, it gives me a lot of time to think about what she’s covering up.

  Today when she gets home, I’m going to talk to her. I’m going to suck it up and tell her that she needs to see a shrink or something and start seeing Willa again and she needs to figure out what she’s going to do for a real job because she can’t work at a bar when she’s fifty. Well, she can, but she might not get such good tips.

  I pull up to the house and see Mr. Scott sitting on my porch. My chest clenches, and I feel anger bubbling up in me. What is he doing here with Willa nowhere in sight? I push away the thought that he’s here for Lisa. My hand balls into a fist, and I make myself unclench it. I won’t read too much into this. There’s no way Lisa would be so stupid as to backtrack with this dude, and even if she did, he wouldn’t sit on my front steps flaunting it. I make myself calm down as I approach the steps and he stands.

  “Where’s Lisa?” he asks, his voice coming off as authoritative and hard.

  It’s laughable. I give him respect when I’m picking up and dropping off Willa just because she’s there, but I lost every ounce of respect for this dude the day Lisa told me he screwed her.

  “Why?” I ask.

  He looks at me indifferently. “I’ll just wait until she gets back.”

  He starts to walk past me, and I grab his arm. He pulls away from me angrily.

  “Keep your hands off me,” he says pointedly.

  “Tell me why you’re at my house and what it is that you want with her,” I demand.

  For a second, he looks amused before matching my scowl. “Look, I know Lisa’s staying here, but this has nothing to do with you.”

  “Oh, it has nothing to do with me? I think it has a lot to do with me seeing as I’m the one who has to play the middle man since you don’t have the balls to let people know that she’s your little girl’s mother,” I say.

  “Her mother’s name is Gwen. That’s who takes care of her, tucks her in at night, and cleans up her cuts when she falls,” he growls.

  “Bullshit. You know exactly what I’m talking about!” I spit.

  He looks at me as if he could set me on fire if he glares long enough. “Okay, how about this? You tell her that my daughter’s not a game. She’s not going to play hopscotch in and out of her life like it’s a fucking joke.”

  “What are you taking about?”

  “I’m talking about her texting me asking to see Willa next week like she hasn’t been missing in action for the past month. She gets Willa used to seeing her and being involved, then she just disappears with no explanation at all? I won’t let her do that again! Willa’s not a toy, and she won’t play with her like one!”

  I hide my surprise that Lisa reached out to him and try to swallow my anger. I know kicking his ass won’t do anything to help her and Willa’s relationship and would just make things a hell of a lot harder.

  “Look, Lisa’s been going through a lot,” I say, trying to be calm.

  He scoffs. “Poor Lisa, always poor Lisa. She has so many problems and what she does is everyone else’s fault: her mother’s fault, my fault, the universe’s fault. No, not this time, she’s not the victim. I don’t care what the hell she’s going through. Leave Willa out of it until she’s gotten her shit together!”

  The fist I unclenched earlier has instinctively balled back up. I close my eyes and have to laugh. Man, he’s asking for it, and he really doesn’t get how long I’ve been itching to give it to him. He’s not wrong, but how smug and self-righteous he’s being, as if I won’t knock out his teeth? It will happen.

  No, it can’t . . . he’d use that as a reason to keep Willa from Lisa. But I’ve got to knock him off this high horse he’s sitting on as if he’s forgotten she isn’t the only villain in their story.

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve.” I chuckle angrily.

  He folds his arms and stares me down.

  “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve, man. You come to my house and make threats and throw ou
t proclamations like your shit doesn’t stink, like I didn’t get the full story of what happened? You want to stand here and act like Lisa played the victim? She was the victim! She was a kid; you were the adult. I don’t care if she hopped on your lap and put her tits in your face. You should have stopped what happened, but you didn’t. You used her. You knew she came from a shit family, you knew that she had daddy issues, but did that stop you? Nope, you were too busy having the time of your life in some alleged fucked up midlife crisis.

  “You say you were going to stop it, but how the hell should we know? You didn’t stop until you were caught. And let’s not forget you were never going to say anything about what happened. You were going to take that secret to your grave. And after all of it, things turned out perfectly for you. You kept your marriage, your son is still talking to you, and you got the daughter you always wanted. Looks to me like things turned out just fine for you. Lisa lost everything! She’s not perfect in all of this, but you for damn sure aren’t, and even to this day, she never blames you for anything. She has never pointed the finger at you, so you better not point it at her. I see through your bullshit, Will. When you’re around me, keep in mind I haven’t forgotten what a scumbag you are.”

  He walks toward me, and I chuckle. “I swear to God, old man, if you come any closer, I will give you the ass-kicking Lisa’s dad should have given you.”

  He stops in his tracks. I look at his clenched fist, and he looks at mine. I won’t lie, he looks to be in pretty good shape for a guy his age, but he doesn’t want to see what five years in the army and every morning in the gym will do to him.

  He takes off his jacket as if he’s ready for a fight. I grin and start to take off my shirt. He really wants to try it? Okay then, bring it on!

  “Stop it!”

  We both turn to see Lisa. How long has she been standing there?

  “Will, I get it. I’m not trying to mess up Willa’s life, I swear to God. That’s why I gave her to you,” she says breathlessly as she runs between us.

  Will looks at her, his contempt and hatred toward me melting a bit.

  “I’ve been . . . I really have had the worst time this past month, and today I had a little bit of sunshine brighten the storm that’s been my life and I realized that Willa is sunshine for me.” Her voice cracks a little. “I was wrong for not letting you know that I needed some time.” She turns toward me. “I didn’t tell him what was going on, Aidan. He’s been trying to reach out to me, and I just didn’t know what to say. I was wrong for that!”

  She touches my chest, and I feel immediately calmed. Her finger tips soothing the wrath that’s itching to get out of me.

  “Willa loves both of you, so beating the crap out of each other will not be good. Right?” she asks with a weak smile.

  Will puts his jacket back on. “Let me know when you figure things out,” he says quietly before walking off to his car.

  I wonder if he had a sudden change of heart because I was going to kick his ass or because of Lisa. We watch him walk to his truck, and she doesn’t move until he pulls off. She turns toward me and lets out a deep sigh. She looks at me with big bright eyes, puts her hands on my chest, then rests her head there.

  “Thank you,” she says breathlessly.

  I fight the urge to wrap my arms around her and tell her I love her, that I won’t let anybody treat her like crap again. I’ll kick all their asses before she deals with this alone again, but for now, I just pat her lower back. “I need a drink.”

  THE LAST THING I expected to see when I made it home was Aidan and Will in the middle of a confrontation. It was so heated, they didn’t even notice I was there. I didn’t know what to do, and when I heard that it was about me, I froze. It was just another bad thing that was my fault.

  I had just wanted to see Willa. I didn’t think how Will would react after I ignored all of his text messages, but when Aidan started in on him, I was floored. I knew Aidan cared about me and that he’s always been protective about his friends, but hearing him defend me, I’d never felt more loved. To be completely honest, I even felt a little bit turned on.

  When I realized they were about to come to blows though, I woke up and had to do something. I didn’t know if I could stop them, but I had to try. I was actually shocked when Will just left without berating me or telling me he’d never let me see Willa again. I guess Aidan’s verbal assault sort of got to him.

  We’re quiet as we go into the house. Aidan turns on the lights, adjusting his shirt, which he was about to throw off to kick Will’s ass. I can’t help but grin. He heads into the kitchen and pulls out a bottle of tequila. I grab him a cup.

  “On the rocks?” I ask quietly.

  He nods, leaning his body on the counter. I swallow hard before grabbing ice out of the freezer. I drop a few cubes in his glass, and he fills it up halfway.

  “You joining me?” His eyes smile at me, but his lips don’t.

  His bottom lip is tucked between his teeth, and it makes me bite my own. I just nod. He pulls another cup out and sets it on the counter. I drop a few cubes in the glass before returning the ice to the freezer. Once I’m done, I see he’s only given me a quarter of a cup.

  “Stingy, are we?” I ask playfully.

  He releases his bottom lip and grins at me. His stare is playful and daring, and it makes my stomach feel as if it’s floating. I feel as though his silence is heightening the tension in the room. It’s not like Aidan to be quiet and still, and his silence is intimidating. Words need to be said—some from him, some from me—but none are being spoken. Our eyes just dance with each other.

  “I’m going to turn on some music,” I say, sounding light and airy.

  He nods, heading into the living room. I follow him, hit the music, and turn around to see him sitting on the floor, his knees up and his arms resting on them. I choose to sit across from him on the couch. I watch him take a long sip from his drink, and I take a short sip out of mine. My eyes trail down his shirt. I think of earlier, when I could see his physique in all of its glory. I take a longer sip of the tangy liquid. I’ve always been more of a whiskey sort of girl. I look at Aidan, whose eyes seem to be climbing steadily up my body, and I feel a wave of heat and tingles shoot down my back.

  “Guess who I ran into today?” I say way too enthusiastically.

  “Who?” he asks with the mildest curiosity.

  “Amanda,” I answer, sounding like a cheerleader on crack. Tone it down.

  He gives me a lazy smirk, licks his lips, and I let out a small breath.

  “Is it hot in here to you, or is it just me?” I ask, waving my hand in front of my face.

  “I read your story.”

  My heart stops. I emailed it to him a while ago and he never said anything about it. I honestly didn’t think he’d be into it. I thought he’d think it was stupid and too girly, so my heart clenches now. I suddenly feel as if I’m sitting naked in front of him. His eyes have seen something no one else has, a little part of me that I’ve kept hidden.

  “What did you think?” I ask, afraid to hear his words.

  “It was amazing.”

  It’s one of the greatest sentences I’ve ever heard.

  The smile he gives me stops my breath. “It was really good. I’m not that much of a reader and it kept my attention.” He sort of chuckles.

  My cheeks are on fire, and I fight off a smile.

  “Do you have any more?” he asks.

  I’m flattered, but I shake my head. “No, I haven’t written anything since . . .”

  He nods in understanding. He shifts a bit, stretching out his legs, and my eyes trail up his long, hard body. It’s solid and perfect, like he was sculpted with the greatest care, as if he was God’s own special project.

  “You kept saying that the girl, Kaitlyn,” he says, and I can’t help but smile. He actually knows the character’s name. “You said she never felt anything except for that one dude. How is that possible?” he asks, his head slightly cocked.
<
br />   “She just never did,” I answer with a shrug.

  I feel his eyes willing me to look at him, but I glue them to my lap.

  “So she’s been out on all these dates and they make out, but she never feels anything . . . I guess what my question is, what is it she feels? Like, she never gets horny?” he asks in an almost innocent way.

  I lean back into the couch and look at the ceiling for a bit. “No, she does . . . obviously she’s human. Before she meets Carter, she never felt butterflies or tingles. She never felt desire so strong it clouded her judgment.”

  He looks into my eyes as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “And after him?”

  I have a feeling he’s not talking about Kaitlyn anymore; does he realize that Katie is me?

  “I haven’t finished the story yet.” I give him a half grin. It’s the coward’s way out. I can’t tell him that she has, and again she has feelings for a man she can’t explore anything with. She’s learned that some things aren’t worth possibly ruining a relationship that means so much to her.

  “Why were you into him, Lisa?”

  His question is like ice water thrown in my face. He has never been afraid to ask questions that make people uncomfortable; I used to ask the same questions, believing answers were for the greater good. Then I didn’t go over my answers in my head before saying them, and I never really believed my words mattered much to him, or it could be that I want them to mean something to him, because his words mean everything to me.

  Things have really changed.

  I start to ask which him Aidan is talking about, but that would be insulting to his intelligence. If he’s read my story, he’s figured out that it’s partially based on that long ago fall. The characters’ names have been changed to protect the guilty instead of the innocent. Our story, even his and Chris’s, is intertwined with words that should just be fiction but are really the parts of me that I wish weren’t real. When my eyes meet his, I expect to see disgust and contempt. Instead, I see slight annoyance and curiosity. I swallow hard. I don’t want to give him the answer; I feel as though it’ll change things.