by Nivia Borell
I fight my tears back and murmur, “Alex, I am done.”
“Bria, you have nothing else to say? Your cousin set you up, and I will show Damien and everyone else the video, and that snake of a bitch will face the consequences.”
I can’t even recall the last time I cringed as I add, “Alex, you will destroy this video, and no one, and I mean no one, will ever see it. Do you understand me?”
“Are you insane? Why should I? I have proof of your innocence, and you want me to make it disappear?”
His brows knit together, and I succeed in calming myself enough so we can finish this conversation in a civilized manner.
“And I am thankful for it, but it changes nothing. I damaged this family once, but this time, I am the one to protect it.” Alex squeezes my shoulders forcing my eyes to rise and meet his.
“Bria, listen to me, you stubborn mule! You destroyed nothing. Your cousin, Monica, sabotaged it, and her accomplice. They drugged and set you up. You could have died, and now you allow her to have a happy ending?”
I shrug, irony dripping from my mouth. “At least someone in this family should get one. However, you misunderstand me. I’m not giving her a happy ending. I’m giving it to Damien. I owe him this. Please just try to understand where I stand. He can’t face another betrayal, don’t you get it? I would do anything for him. He’s the reason my heart beat again, for him, for Damien. I yearned to watch him once again laughing with all his pearly teeth sparkling, finding someone to love. At least, I was granted one wish.” I gauge for his reaction as shock overtakes his face. Is it that much of a surprise, my admittance? Did he learn nothing in all these years because whenever Damien is around, all my self-preservation instinct succumbs to nothingness and transforms me into a slave of his whims and moods? Didn’t Alex see behind the maze of my mad love for Damian?
“I know you can’t comprehend how such love is even possible, but it is because Damien and I had it, and I lived in the bubble he created for me. So you’ll destroy the video so the love of my life can find completion in his marriage, and although it hurts so much, I hope his love for her and their future babies will give him back something I took from him.”
His wide eyes bore into mine. It is like he doesn’t recognize me. Somehow, I feel the same as this night shifted something inside of me. I was claiming my closure by confessing some truths I believed were buried too deep, but they were just in the vicinity, lurking and waiting for me to accept them. My voice doesn’t falter as I admit these truths.
“Don’t you get it, the distance I would go for him? What I would do to protect him? I can’t belong to someone else. I left all of me with him, and I won’t take it back. I will sacrifice everything and everyone for him. Stop seeing me as a victim, Alex, and see me for the person I am. Without him, what you see is what his absence has caused me. So, don’t look at me as if I’m a complete stranger. You are the one who never wanted to see and accept the truth.”
I pause. I hope Alex will acknowledge the only truth that shaped me. My love for Damien is out of my control. It is surreal, and if someone ever asks me what love is to me, I will chant, “It has steel-blue eyes matching the intensity of the merciless bulldozer crushing everything in its way, even the most stubborn cement. Love is six feet one inches of surreal beauty and one hundred ninety-two pounds of proud human strength. Love is larger than life and has dark chocolate hair that makes the crows bow in awe, and a splendid posture defying nature. Love has the most addictive smell, musky and earthy, with a hint of spice and heat. It has two powerful arms in which I made myself a home. Love’s mouth can set my entire world aflame.”
I test this definition of love only in my mind. A lost feeling beats the sad chord of a forgotten song, and pangs of raw pain stab my heart. I do not understand what overcomes me. When was the last time I let such thoughts dizzy me?
I emerge from these wanderings and put my arm on Alex’s shoulder, clasping it. “And as my thank you, I will confide in you something no one knows, not even your father, and you will realize once and for all my loss can never be undone. Nothing can bring it back. In its place are only scars marring both my outside and inside.”
“What do you mean when you say it, Bria? In my father and me, you gained a new family, and you never lost yours. To be honest, you distanced yourself from them, and I am thankful because you gave me a family, Bri, and a person to protect even from herself. Don’t you dare tell me what I should see in you because I’ve lived with the shadow of Damien in our home every day for seven years,” Alex shouts, and I roll my eyes.
If he would just listen and stop interrupting me. “I am sorry, Alex. You have to believe me. I would never harm you on purpose.”
I stroke his high cheek with the back of my hand and continue, “That day I went home and told my parents what had happened, and I had my first heart attack a few days later.”
“Yes, I heard the story, Bria.” He rushes his words out. It seems we are both on edge with our feet facing the door, our bottoms fidgeting on the barstool.
My throat squeezes my vocal chords as I add, “Well, Alex, I’m sure you’ve pondered on how I got the personality disorder syndrome that led to my emotional detachment and depression.”
His jaw tightens as he doesn’t want to hear another distressing reason I wouldn’t stay with him. “Bri… you don’t have to tell me. I don’t want the information.”
But I couldn’t stop, not now. Seven years of keeping this secret. The freedom of confession whispers at me, alluring me to continue, and I hunger for an ounce of lightness.
“I will spill it to you so you can try to understand the depths of not only my illness but also my suffering. This stupid video you showed me, makes my pain a joke because its play ruined everything and can’t give me anything back.”
“I’m sorry, Bri—”
“Don’t be. It isn’t your fault. Losing the love of my life made my heart ill, and no surgery can fix the damage…” I pause because there is no going back, and even after so long, the gap doesn’t lessen. I grip the last of my energy and courage and continue, “The loss of Damien, and of… of… our unborn child gave me this condition. Now, for the video, I contemplate my innocence, but it changes nothing. Inside, there is only a rotten heart.”
I could see my pained reflection in his sunken eyes, and I gasp in surprise. At this moment, I realize he has a piece of me and vice versa. I cup his face with my shaky fingers as I lay my heated forehead on his and murmur, “Now, Alex, you know everything, and all I wish for is to be alone. I am sorry. Let me go, Alex, because I have become a ghost. I’m a dead woman roaming around. Just look at me and admit that what you see is the truth, my truth. I hope we will meet again, if not in this life, then in another one. Please destroy the video.”
The color drains from Alex’s face. My confession hangs in the air of the now eerie and silent room. The bartender’s sleek movements are the only audible sounds as he pours a drink to a slouched man who looks frighteningly on the verge of collapsing. I only allow myself a moment to pry at his fallen shoulders, head held low, and gaze fixated on the glass as if it holds the answers to all his misery. This whole place looks like a monument of sadness as the dim lights cast clarity of an intimate pain and shelves filled with alcoholic beverages. I tear my eyes from the stranger which pulls at my heart to recognize and focus on Alex as he begs me with his eyes to stay, but I can’t bear the sensations threatening to madden me. I jump to my feet, spare one last glance at Alex’s heavenward expression, and dash through the door. When I reach my suite, I hustle into the room and slump on the carpet. The pain penetrates into every fiber of my being, and I let it shatter me.
DAMIEN
Somehow the only strings I have with reality are my gaze impaled on the dark paneled wall, my fingers dabbing the one-third-filled glass of whiskey sprawled on the hardwood bar surface, and the onyx and leather barstool supporting me.
Welcome to hell, Damien, and have a nice stay for eternity.
/> Her confession and her selfless attitude regarding my so-called happiness wreck me.
She gave me her blessing to marry the woman who caused her illness and the loss of our baby, the same woman who, with one act, destroyed us, our love, and our blissful existence. Bria is innocent, my girl never betrayed me. Now the truth is out, and all I feel is how endless anger brews inside me.
We would have been parents by now of a mini Bria or a mini-me, but we would never know that joy, would we? I shut my eyes and squeeze my fists while pain squishes me underneath. My insides cringe for allowing Monica in my life as my confidante and vendetta partner and for every moment we have spent together the last few years. She took everything I adored in such a cruel and cunning manner. My lungs burn with every new breath I draw in.
Tonight’s events hit me hard. For sixteen years, I lived for my lovely and innocent Bria, my Bria. And for the next years, I lived for the business and did everything in my power to forget about her. What have I done?
What crushes my selfish gene most is I caused it all for letting my ego and hurt consume me and not being there when my love lost her heart to illness, her mind to numbness, and the product of our love to death. My insides crumble as perceiving that for a few days or weeks, I was a father to a child who would never live a day of its life. Our baby set out to be doomed by my reaction. It was a lack of reasoning and trust toward my better half. Now, everything seems real as the veil drops from my eyes, and I relive that day.
When I entered her hotel room, she didn’t react like a person caught in bed with someone else. She looked like she always did when she saw me—utter love, adoration, and happiness shining in her beautiful, dreamy eyes. Why couldn’t I detect something was wrong with the entire picture? Her eyes had sparkled, and she didn’t cover herself as I assume would be the proper way in such a situation. She stood there with her neck craned and a corner of her juicy mouth quirked up. It was not guilt etched in her gaze which I assume would be her normal reaction if she had compromised herself, but more bewilderment. She stroked her temples, and then attempted to wipe the sleep from her eyes in circular movements, some color returning in her face.
Realizing how I sprung to such a conclusion whacks me now. She still blames herself even though she’s been a victim this entire time. Bria sees herself as the one who caused our downfall and not her cunt of a cousin. But the guiltiest is me as I presumed the person who would give her soul away in a blink of an eye for the person she loves betrayed me. Her downfall is the way she always loves with absolute selflessness. I never deserved her.
She nibbled on her bottom lip as a fine line appeared between her brows. Reservation on my part was something she had never faced before because I had always been like a starved man, and she was the only one capable of quenching the hunger inside me. Every time I arrived from London or a business trip, I longed for her, and we would live in our bubble, as she called it, as we claimed each other for days until returning to our reality—our families and responsibilities. Why weren’t her uncharacteristic reactions enough to clue me in something was all wrong? Her borrows furrowed, and then her eyes followed my hollow gaze to something beside her in bed.
Her smile slipped, her eyes budged out, and her face went blank. Time and both of us froze.
I ponder on how we swore to let no argument stand in the way of our happiness. We had a rule never to walk out during a quarrel or misunderstanding. We would end up in each other’s faces, flaring noses, spit dripping, things flying, me ducking every time. It’s a wonder I never got my head bashed in one of her so-called settling our arguments, and then shifting to tear our clothes off and forge our mouths into one, moans and laughter rattling the walls. Quarrels between us were rare moments mostly whenever we were apart and my insane jealousy would take control. Then, she would instigate me more and bestow on me her wisdom of how we had to get it out of my system. Truth be told, she loved to see me go wild so she could ease me again with assurances of her and our love. Yes, my Bria was a little spitfire, and I loved it on her. But the image in front of me was the inferno of all arguments, a monster I could not squish.
Bria was the only person who could bring out the best and worst in me, and always, in the end, bring me to my knees.
How did I forget everything I knew about her in one moment? Instead of becoming paralyzed, I should have asked her for an explanation like any sane person would have done in my place. Instead, I stood there like a moron while her only reaction was to remain immobile and speechless.
Bria and speechless… ha!
The thing is, when the unthinkable happens, it takes possession and turns you into its personal puppet until you can gain control over it again, but that usually happens after you’ve lost everything and can’t change the outcome. I had maybe minutes to regain my composure, but the pain pulverized any lucidity. I slogged away leaving the love of my life to bleed by herself.
DAMIEN
I return from the land of bitter memories when the noise of a glass crushing on the massive table and a contemptuous voice wakes me up. Alexander towers over me, getting in my personal space, with his pulse slamming in his neck and sinking onto the barstool next to me.
“Have you seen it, Damien du Sky? Sleeping with the enemy suddenly has a whole new meaning.” The sarcasm drips from his tongue, but it is the insinuation of his words that makes my skin crawl.
“Well, I’m sure it fills you with satisfaction, doesn’t it, Alexander?” I retort, my gaze locked with his.
“I hoped you would witness it, and when I saw you sneak in here, it gave me the strength to carry on with showing Bria what my father discovered. How does it feel to know the person you’ve hated with a passion for the last seven years is innocent, while the woman who shares your bed and is soon to be your bride is the reason for it all?”
I bend to Alexander as his brows snap together and his jaw grounds.
“Why, now? I’m sure you’ve had it for a while?”
He narrows his eyes at me and snarls.
“Tonight, I have done everything in my power to make her realize how much I love her and want her to stay with me, but nothing breaks her walls… not my love, not realizing she did nothing wrong, and not even you, Damien.” He runs a hand through his hair, and a flash of something like disappointment reaches his eyes before resuming a challenging expression.
“She never was yours to begin with, was she? So how can you lose someone you never had? But I’m sure you’ve burst with satisfaction in making me believe she was yours all these years, haven’t you?”
It is more than a verbal confrontation. It is a long-overdue battle, years of frustration taking a toll on us. We jump to our feet, and our eyes drill the other as we squint while our flaring noses are inches apart.
“You’re the expert in the matter, aren’t you, Damien, having her all for yourself and then losing her out of your own stupidity? You were the last person I wished to prove something to. All I’ve wanted these last seven years is her love, but as you’ve heard by now, Bria is incapable of feeling. So, yes, I blame you for everything and more because you’re not only the cause of her destruction but also the person who took away my chance of finding happiness with her.”
The tension cloaks us. The bartender clears his throat in a clear warning we have to behave as he keeps polishing a glass in the corner of the bar. I undo the first button of my shirt and slump in my seat again, Alex follows suit. I grab the glass in front of me and allow the searing effect of the whiskey to ground me.
“Alexander, I gather you blame me for your unhappiness, and to be honest, I don’t give a fuck about your feelings for her or that she doesn’t return your love. I have my own fucking demons to spar with. You may not see it now, but the difference is someday you’ll find someone to fix your sad little heart. For Bria and me, there is nothing out there to patch the damage. You’ll be fine, eventually.”
He raises his brows before throwing his head back as laughter rocks his body. When his e
yes return to me, the amusement vanishes.
“I knew you were a selfish bastard, I just wasn’t aware of the extent of it.”
He has to be fucking kidding me. Who the hell does he think he is? Mother Theresa? I picture how I’d squeeze his throat until it bends.
“Alexander, Alexander! I’ve always been the selfish one and Bria the selfless one. She was the best part of me, and without her, only the bad in me remained, and it’s made me the bastard you think I am today. But I’m sure, after her speech, the difference between her and me should be clear to you. At the cost of her sanity, she chooses my happiness over hers. Did it slice your hopes to hear her reveal why her heart didn’t lose the battle she wanted to lose, so I, the person most unworthy of her love, will find his happiness in the arms of the woman who destroyed hers?”
His lips press in a tight line as he mumbles, “And to think she said we could have been friends if the situation was different, how people are incapable of not loving you. But I see a broken, damaged, and sad human being capable of living fueled only by hatred, Damien, and I find nothing in me that could somehow even remotely like you.”
His words over Bria’s belief floods me with longing.
“You should give her more credit, Alexander. I mean, I was her true love, and, oh, yes, let’s not forget her only true love. Put on my charms as I made her fall in love to the point of no return, didn’t I?”
My defense mechanism takes over again, and, in a sick way, I am thankful because without my sarcasm and strongman appearance, I would bleed in front of someone who I don’t want to see my actual state.
He grits his teeth and says, “You disgust me, Damien, but you’ll get no reaction out of me. Let me assure you, though, I will not end this conversation until you are nothing more than a pile of sorrow.”
The space around us feels too small for inhabiting two alpha males both on the verge of a mental snap.
