by Janice Ross
"How long have you known her?"
"Since senior year of high school. She transferred in from somewhere in Jersey. It was difficult for her to make friends with most of the girls, so she became the go-to chick for the guys."
"What made you decide to be friends with her?"
"Some girls were dragging her name through the mud like she was absolutely nothing. I'm talking the worst type of shit ever. She was nowhere near, but I confronted them regardless. Since that time, I've tried to be a friend."
"I'm impressed."
"No need to be. It was the right thing to do. But I think her parents are going to send her away. She needs help."
"Sounds that way."
"Thanks for listening." Chanel stepped to my side, leaning into me in a playful way. Her giggles helped to lessen my anxieties, soothe out the stress.
Damn, being next to her warmed me unlike anything else in the world. I had this urge to take her in my arms, to hug her, to kiss her, and to beg her to stay with me. "What are you about to do?"
"Well, I wanted to wait for Chantele's parents to take me back home, but I'm not sure how much longer they'll be." The shine in her pupils began fading.
"I can take you," I responded without a second thought. Her concerns suddenly became mine, like second nature.
"Oh no, Rhys."
"Then stay a while longer, please?" The overhead lights flooded her profile to reveal wider pupils than I'd seen earlier. "I'm not ready... Stay, please." It would've been too weird to confess that I wasn't ready to let her go.
"Why?" she asked.
My stomach swirled as a lump formed in my throat. Should I let her know that I wanted desperately for her to stay because I didn't know her favorite color or roses or food or music? I hadn't yet pinpoint the tiny actions to bring a smile to those precious lips. Could I tell her I had a desire to know what made her tick?
"No reason, Rhys?"
"At least let me take you home?"
I refused to argue in any kind of way. I was going to take her home or at the very least, find a way to get her there safely to make sure she remained intact. Reaching down to capture her fingers, she didn't stop mine from intertwining with hers. In fact, they curved into my hand in a comforting sort of way. I led her out of the waiting room out to the front of the ER entrance.
Only then did I realize my silver Range was still parked in the garage of the condo I previously shared with Maggie. Jeff, the driver, was still in front of the hospital. "Our driver will take you home."
"No way, Rhys, you've already done enough." Chanel's fingers slipped out of my palm. Neither of us turned away, however. Her lips were puffy and sensual. She gnawed. I practically felt her thoughts, warnings and uncertainties. The same flowed through my mind. "You were my savior...um, Chantele's savior."
"You came to me for help earlier. Let me do what you’ve already asked." She didn't argue, not another word. Something inside, however, hinted that there was a rooted discomfort churning in her soul. "If it means I don’t come along for the ride, so be it."
Jeff would take her home. He agreed, and I would stay behind.
I opened the door to my father's ride, to show her that I was worthy to be remembered. I pressed the meat of my thumb to her cheek. After trailing down, across to touch her lips I whispered, "It was nice meeting you, Chanel."
"Thank you, Rhys." Nodding only once, her face was replaced with air when she stepped away from my hold and into the luxury vehicle. Beyond that, we said a silent goodbye as they left me out in the dark city night.
X.
Chanel
~
Out of all the people to run into in this overpopulated state, I came in contact with the only guy capable of making my heart question the loyalty I held for the love of my life. Things were never this out of place for me. A typical day in my life never brought me into this much drama, yet here I was. While the driver added distance between Rhys and me, a mounting disconnect needed to take over. So I chose not to peer through the window of the luxury vehicle in order to catch one lasting glimpse of danger. Truthfully, I knew nothing about him, whether he carried devilish traits or saintly ones. Judging by the behavior back at the attacker’s condo, he might've been stockpiling a ton of deception. Judging by his looks, God had to be on his side.
When life already provided a set standard, nothing else should've been able to penetrate your walls. My relationship with Zach gave life to all potential inadequacies. In truth, I was a quantitative person, set on counting the years of loyalty in hopes of outweighing the fly by night disasters of our society. Zach and I maintained a relationship which would soon approach a decade. That fact alone meant something to me, to him. Everyone around knew this, whether they accepted our love or not, whether they doubted our sincerity or not. Ours was a light to others like us, since we provided the framework for young love. Simply put, it was everything to him...to me.
More than ever, like never before, I needed Zach. Since he'd left for Vasser earlier, I hadn't spoken with him. I was a bit perturbed he didn't think to check in to let me know he'd made it in okay. I was itching to pick up the phone once more to try his number again. But when the car came to a sudden stop, I slid down to the end of the leather seat.
"Looks like a pile up on the Long Island Expressway," Jeff advised. "I'll try to get us off. I know some shortcuts."
"No stress, Jeff. I'm not in a hurry." We'd been riding along in silence for the past several minutes leading up to this point. This would provide me with additional reflection, meditation. As an option, I added, "However, if you need to get back, I don't have an issue with an alternate route."
"It's your choice, Miss."
"Chanel. Please, call me Chanel." I forced the corners of my lips upwards which I directed at the rear-view mirror. Jeff's olive skin, pleasant round saucer like eyes and head reminded me of the Pillsbury doughboy. "When are hospital hours up?"
"The rules wouldn't apply to them." He dropped the words with a hint of disdain. Precisely what was meant, I could only guess at. He had to know I would've been curious.
So, Rhys wasn't only dangerous, he was borderline invincible as well. A sharp pain cut across my forehead, sitting heavily across all angles. I decided to let things sit right there with silent questions floating between the two of us. The memories of today had to be just that. The closer we traveled, at snail speed nonetheless, to Long Island, I lay aside my inquisitive nature.
I made one final attempt for the night. Zach finally answered, "Hi baby." His welcome was groggy.
"Long day?" I knew I should've let him know about the drama of my trip into the city with Chantele. Who was I kidding? I would once again be led down a path to reflect on things I had no right to yearn.
There it was–I could finally admit to myself what every inch of me had fallen prey to. It was a fact I dare not speak out loud, much less allow to permeate my mental world.
XI.
Rhys
~
Twenty-four hours earlier, I'd fought my way into solid walls of a police station. It was a first for me, and I planned on making it my last. My world was smashed up. Forget about things falling apart; the whole shit blew up. I lost someone who didn't deserve me, and nearly lost another whom I didn't deserve.
Now I awaited my mother's recovery along with the man who'd led her down this road. We stayed overnight at the hospital. When we weren't sleeping, pretending to sleep, or avoiding eye contact, we spoke no more than three-word sentences. It was okay with me.
The nurse assigned to Lisle nodded when my eyes rested on her. I imagined how out of sorts I must've appeared. In all actuality, I wouldn't have been able to settle in anywhere else. Not now, at least. Seriously, where was I going to go–home to Maggie or over to my parent's condo?
My limbs ached from top to bottom, especially my swollen knuckles. The pain extended past my wrists to strain the back of my arms. I didn't give a damn how intense the after effects. If given the opportunity, I'd ki
ck the bastard's ass all over again.
"Is my wife awake yet?" Rupert barked to the nurse, forcing my reflection aside.
"Yes sir. She asked for you. Only you," the olive toned nurse stated. She nodded once in my direction, only momentarily acknowledging Rupert. Deep grooves appeared at the corners of his mouth and eyes, though he didn't react otherwise.
The private room offered a stiff, cold greeting. Everything from the plain rectangular bed with off white linen, to the monitoring machines resting at the head of the bed seemed foreign. We didn't belong in this room or hospital. Hell, two days ago, Lisle was so happy she glowed.
"Rhys," she cried out while trying to use a deeper voice to mask the sadness. I knew her, especially the tricks she'd employ to push attention onto others.
"Call if you need me," the nurse notified on the way out.
"Lisle, why?" Maybe now wasn't the time, but I was never one to beat around the bush with her. "You couldn't talk to me?" The inner parts of my pupils stung, so I kept several feet in between us. I had to be a few seconds from losing my shit. This whole emotional rollercoaster thing hadn't ever been me. I found myself being led by every incident in life.
"I-I'm sorry."
"That's it? You're sorry?" I had no desire to blow up at her. Shit, I understood suicide was a very personal thing because the most telling part of it took place in the mind.
"This life isn't mine anymore," she stated as chunks of tears lingered along the angles of her face. The bed was propped up, but her body remained almost empty. "He's not the man I once thought he was."
"And what's that's, Lisle? You knew he was ambitious from day one. You knew he was power hungry. You knew he'd give you everything money could buy, except his time."
"And what about loyalty?"
"Who, Rupert? The man who's committing polygamy with his work?" The last thing I wanted was to downplay her feelings, but we all knew the heart and soul of him. “Walk away if it's that bad, but deciding to kill yourself should never be the answer."
"You don't know what I've gone through. I'm not equipped to be a trophy wife. He expects me to be at his beck and call, to stay at home and not strive for anything outside of him. He expects me to accept his screw-ups and selfish choices."
"Isn't that what you signed up for?" I knew the answer.
"I thought it was what I wanted."
"What changed?"
"I got exactly what I expected. And he's changed."
"How?"
Her answer came with an influx of tears. She sobbed just enough to perhaps keep it together. It reminded me of when she'd first told me about the trip. "What are you not telling me, Mom? What did he do?"
"Rhys." I could tell she wasn't willing to go any further, like earlier in the year and the times I'd pried about whatever had changed.
"So, what do you do from here, Lisle? This can't happen again. Either walk away or find a way to cope." I'd taken the remaining steps to reach the bed.
Her mouth quivered. A thick sheet of moisture formed in front of her pupils. "I need to decide."
"Then decide. You just can't do this to yourself. If we hadn't gotten there–" The thought of what couldn't happened brought back the emotions, the rage. "When you ended the call, I thought it was over."
"I hung the phone up to keep from crying in your ear. You shouldn't have been subjected to that."
"Why not? I'm your son."
"But Maggie–"
"Too hell with Maggie." The sentence was quick. I chose not to linger.
"What happened, Rhys? And don't you dare tell me nothing. Please give me something to shift focus from having to speak with Rupert in the next several minutes." She blinked continuously, as if I wouldn't be able to catch the drops of moisture clinging to her lashes. There was a desperate, wide open feel to her pupils.
I wasn't close to being ready to open up. Pacing from one side of the bed to the other, only to continue to the window. Without turning around, I said, "She was screwing another guy."
"What?" Lisle gasped before releasing low cries. "I'm so sorry."
Sorry held little weight as far as I was concerned. I nudged one foot around with enough willpower to continue on. I believe the hurt had subsided to give way to rage. I literally felt the vessels along my temples throbbing. "They were in our home, in our bedroom, in our bed. Mom, I made it so that Maggie didn't need to lift a finger."
"I know. I know. What did you do?"
"Beat the holy hell out of the asshole." While her eyelashes spread out, I couldn't help but notice the curve at the sides of her lips.
"You'll be all right."
"I know." In my anger, I'd lost sight of a key fact: Maggie wasn't capable of breaking me. For a man to be cheated on, especially in such a way, it forced him to consider he might be less than a man. There was no accepting my inferiority. That person was someone else. Previously, I played the part by making her believe she was worthy to live like a princess. In truth, I'd lied to her. I was less than a man because I lacked a real plan for my future, so what we had was bound to fall apart. It was only a matter of time or circumstance. The latter won out.
XII.
Chanel
~
This time, when dawn came knocking on my window, I ventured beyond the nook in my comfy bedroom. A pair of bubble gum shaded flip flops awaited, only three hours after I'd gotten home from the City. The ghosts of the day haunted my senses for close to an hour before I'd fallen into a light sleep.
Now, as I wrapped a cheesy, pink and black, tiger print robe around my waist, I relaxed. The sky was still dark, but the shade lightened with each passing hour. If only I could pause the progression of time in order to live outside of reality, I might become whole again. Once daylight set in, I'd be forced to brush my secrets away. I imagine everyone had to have those brutal truths which were potentially haunting their every step.
I paused under the gazebo at the center of the yard. It was the perfect place to free my soul. My fingers cupped my lips, where Rhys had trailed the tips of his fingers. If I closed my eyes and moved my fingertips slowly along the outline, I could feel the sensation all over again.
Dammit, he didn't need to be near me. His desperate gray-blue orbs were etched in my memory, even the times when his lips would part to blow out the slightest bit of steam. In his anger, I became captivated. In his humility, when he gave in to my struggle, a whirlwind of emotion forced me into oblivion.
What the hell is this, Chanel?
My body, mind and soul belonged to Zachary Marlowe not Rhys. Wait, I didn't know his last name! Case in point. Rhys was a stranger in every way.
Get your life in order, Chanel. Zach doesn't deserve a half-ass girlfriend.
"Sweetie?"
I swiped the back of my hand at my eyes when I heard my mother's voice trailing over the calm, early morning breezes before I turned to face her. The last thing I wanted was for her to see me crying. God knows that would make life more difficult.
"Mom, what are you doing out here?" My question needed to seem more relevant. My issues, problems, or doubts had to remain hidden.
"Sweetie, I heard when you came in. Didn't expect you to still be up. What's wrong?" She stood less than two feet away, wearing my dad's plush, white cotton robe. Her pupils were glossed over underneath the stunning, half-moon's glow. Wild strands of hair raced away from her face. A silly grin formed only to fade into a frown. She folded one arm over the other, only for them to unravel and spread wide. Taking miniature steps, the woman I wanted badly to understand, reached out to hug me.
Instead of fighting, I let her. Tears trickled down the contours of my cheeks even before I could fully sink into her embrace. For once, we stood in silence, on one accord. I pressed into the forgiveness and comfort of a mother's love, though I never thought there was forgiveness to be had. She hushed and promised me in certain terms that it'd all be okay.
My mother couldn't have known it would be okay. Hell, she had no idea what it was. Moreover,
I knew within my heart there was no way to share my current thoughts.
"Talk to me," she pleaded. "Whether you believe it or not, I want the absolute best for you." Her lips touched to my forehead. "Is it Zach?"
Under normal circumstances, I might've blown up over the mere mention of him. Since he'd left earlier, Mom and me hadn’t said much else. Other than greetings, our conversations were null and void. I never wanted it that way, but she made my relationship an issue when it shouldn't have been.
"Mom, I don't want to argue with you. Not now at least."
"Baby, I'm not here to argue either." She turned to maneuver us further under the gazebo. After sitting side by side, she took my hands. "You must think I'm a horrible mother."
I chose not to reply. It wasn't that I believed she was entirely horrible. I didn't quite understand her.
"Oh God," Mom puffed out before standing. Walking off, she gathered up the robe to draw further around her body. "You mean everything to me. Everything, Chanel." She fled for me, not stopping until her arms encased me all over again.
"Then why is there always friction between us?" I hadn't yet stopped crying, though the tears subsided. "Please Mom, tell me why we fight all the fricken time. And Zach, you have this vendetta against him."
"I don't have a vendetta against Zach. He's mainly a good guy."
"And? I can't remember a time you've ever warmed up to him. What aren't you telling me?"
Mom exhaled and then slid from my side. The love she'd only just dished out got pulled back. "What it is about Zach, Chanel? Why him? Why not another guy?"
"Mom, really? Zachary was the first, the only boy to show me love from day one. Remember all the times I'd cry all the way home after preschool? Zach brought the sunshine and wiped away the tears."
"Mallory too," Mom added.
"Yeah, but Zach has loved me since."
"And his parents?"
"Really, Mom?" I tried to ease up from the bench. Her fingers wrapped around my forearm. I felt the tension from underneath my own robe. I remained seated.
