Sweet Alibi

by Adriane Leigh

  I nodded and waited. I deserved this. I deserved for Kyle to find me and Tristan, our skin damp and flushed from fucking.

  We listened to shuffling in the sand in between the echoing booms of the fireworks. My heart raced and my chest heaved with erratic breaths.

  Oh god.

  Not now. Not an anxiety attack. I bit down on my bottom lip, trying to stifle the sensation. Trying to swallow down and hold it in.

  “Georgia?” Tristan ducked his head and took my shoulders in his hands. My limbs shook with fear, anxiety pulsed through my veins, I shook from my fingertips to my toes. “Georgia.” He whispered louder, his eyes searching mine. I only shook my head. I couldn't form words. Couldn’t even take full breaths.

  “Kyle!” Tristan bolted around me and threw the shower stall open.

  I slid to the door.

  Oh God, he would tell him. He would confess everything. He was throwing me under the bus. Forcing my hand.

  I couldn't. I couldn't. I couldn't.

  I slid to the sandy tile floor and stuck my head between my knees trying desperately to focus on my breaths.

  Twenty-Six

  Georgia

  THE NEXT MORNING, I had a splitting headache. I threw a pillow over my head, willing the throbbing to subside before deciding that a tall glass of water and Advil were in order. I sighed, stretched, and then slowly opened my eyes to find Kyle next to me. I rolled to my side and placed my palm lightly on his chest, the diamond ring sparkling in the light that suffused the room. His deep, rhythmic breathing told me he was still sound asleep, so I snuck out of bed and padded into the bathroom. I stumbled in front of the mirror and assessed the damage from the night before.

  I rubbed my hands over my face, willing the sleep away. I touched the dark circles under my eyes and frowned; getting old was a bitch and I had a feeling the alcohol wasn't helping matters. My eyes trailed further down my reflection in the mirror and landed at my hips where the hem of my T-shirt met the pale pink of my panties. I squinted at my reflection.

  “What the hell?” I leaned in to get a closer look.

  Bruises.

  Fucking bruises on my thighs. Perfectly round bruises.

  I turned to the side and found more where the top of my thighs met my hips.

  Suddenly last night came crashing back to me. I remembered walking around the side of the house, Tristan leaning against the wall of the outdoor shower looking sad and broken.

  Our fighting. Our kissing. Our fucking.

  Kyle. Tristan. My breakdown.

  “Oh God.” I covered my mouth with one hand as bile rose in my esophagus.

  I remembered all of it.

  I closed my eyes and replayed the scene in my head. When I opened them the evidence of our wild, forbidden coupling was on my thighs. I peeked out the bathroom door and found Kyle still sleeping. What had happened? Had Tristan told him? Why was he...how could he be...here? In bed with me?

  I shut the door and slid down to sit on the cold, tile floor. Shoving my head in my hands I tried to calm my breathing. I had to talk to Tristan. Had to find out what had happened after I'd blacked out. After we'd....and then Kyle had...

  Bile lurched into the back of my throat as I realized I’d had sex with Tristan the night that Kyle had proposed to me. The day of my engagement I’d had sex with someone else.

  I willed myself to breathe deeply while my mind raced. I was having a panic attack; if I didn't get ahold of myself I would be an incoherent blob on this bathroom floor, in the same state I'd found myself in just last night.What the fuck was I supposed to do? My fiancé―the man I’d loved and cheated on―slept in the bed right outside this door. And the man I’d cheated on him with was in this house somewhere. What a fucking mess. I was no more than a whore who had trampled all over the hearts of each of the men she cared for.

  I had the urge to puke.

  “Georgia?” Kyle tapped on the door.

  “Yeah?” I croaked.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, just don't feel very well.”

  “Okay, can I get you anything, babe?”

  Babe. He was calling me “babe.” That meant he didn't know. But how could he not? How could he possibly not know what Tristan and I had done?

  “Georgia?”

  “No, thanks. I'm fine. I'll be out in a minute.” I answered as my mind raced.

  “Okay.” Kyle's footsteps padded out of the room. I gritted my teeth and tried to breathe deep and slow through my nose, filling my lungs, expanding my chest cavity, closing my eyes, and thinking serene thoughts. I can fix this. I can do what's right. I can still make the right decision. I’d made the wrong fucking decision at every turn this summer, but there was still time to make the right one.

  I lifted myself off the floor and opened the door, making my way to the closet. I pulled on a pair of long shorts. Most of the shorts I had were too short and would show my bruises.

  “You’re up early,” I mumbled to Silas sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee. I poured one for myself, and a glass of water.

  “Early night.” Silas shrugged.

  “Seriously?” I swallowed two Advil and gulped the glass of water.

  “You don't remember? Justin and I had a spat, apparently dancing with someone else―even if you’re not exclusive― is not okay with him,” Silas grumbled.

  “Didn't see that.” I frowned, taking a sip of my coffee. I wondered if Tristan was already awake. I glanced at the closed French doors, an indication that he was probably still sleeping.

  “Where did you disappear to? Kyle was looking for you during the fireworks.” Silas took another drink from his mug.

  “I wasn't feeling well, I laid down for a while.” Or got laid. I heaved an exasperated sigh.

  “Hmm, come to think of it, I didn't see Tristan either.” Silas looked me squarely in the eye.

  “Hey, babe, feeling better?”

  Kyle drifted into the kitchen in a T-shirt and shorts.

  “Yeah, I’m okay,” I responded weakly.

  “Too much to drink, huh?” Kyle asked and leaned in for a kiss, sliding both his hands up my thighs and under my shorts. Kyle stroked his thumbs along my flesh, in the same area Tristan’s hands had held me against the wall the night before. I cringed.

  “I guess so.”

  “You should probably lay off the hard stuff. Remember your therapist said alcohol can increase the likelihood of a panic attack?”

  “What?”

  “Last night. Tristan said he found you on the floor of the shower in a full blown panic attack. You looked bad, babe. I don't want to have to worry about you down here if you're going to be drinking like that.” Kyle worked slow circles on my shoulders with his thumbs.

  “You had a panic attack last night?” Silas' voice rose in alarm.

  “Oh, yeah. It wasn't a big deal. It hasn't happened in so long, I guess I just blocked it out.” I placed a hand to my forehead and feigned confusion. I was lying to my fiancé, and now my best friend.

  “No more drinking?” Kyle caught my chin between his thumb and index finger.

  “No more.” A small smile curved my lips.

  Was I really going to get away with this? Was Kyle so trusting of me that I could sleep with someone right under his nose and he wouldn't bat an eye?

  I couldn't think about it anymore. “Want me to make some breakfast? Pumpkin pancakes?” I pulled away awkwardly. I couldn’t stand his hands or his lips on me right now.

  “You okay to cook?” Kyle poured coffee.

  “You should rest, Georgia. If you're not feeling good...” Silas placed the back of his hand on my forehead.

  “I'm fine.” I swept his hand away. “Go bang on doors and wake everyone for breakfast.” I stood and headed for the pantry.

  “It's just Gavin and Drew. Tristan didn't stay here last night,” Silas said.

  “Really? Where did he stay?” I spun around quickly, catching myself. Silas noticed my reaction, but Kyle
stood oblivious, sipping his coffee and looking out at the beach.

  “No idea, he left just after the fireworks…” Silas said pointedly.

  “Oh.” My mind raced, a thousand thoughts bouncing around. I turned back to the pantry as anger prickled my skin, the blood scorching in my veins. He was gone. He'd gone home with someone else. Would Tristan do that? Would he be with me, then fuck someone else after? I didn't remember how we'd ended things. I was so fucking drunk I didn't even remember anything until seeing those bruises this morning. But maybe he’d been so drunk he didn’t remember either. Pain sliced my heart open that he could forget our coming together last night.

  I need you. His words echoed in my brain.

  I fucking need you so much.

  I need you.

  I need you.

  What did that mean? In that moment? For a while? The rest of the summer? Forever? My hands started to shake and tears pricked my eyelids as I reached for the flour on the top shelf. My breathing sped up and I found myself at the onset of another panic attack. The image of his arm wrapped around the beautiful brunette he’d brought last night flashed before my eyes. My heart ached at the possibility that he'd been in her bed last night, or he'd brought her to his boat. That he'd had both of us. Blood surged through my veins and my limbs began to shake in anger, pain, and anxiety before the sack of flour hit the floor and exploded all over my feet.

  “Georgia?” Silas and Kyle hurried into the pantry after me. I’d dropped to my knees on the pantry floor, my legs covered in flour, tears flowing silently down my cheeks.

  “I don't feel well.” I avoided Kyle's eyes and looked only at Silas. I pleaded with him to understand, to help me, to protect me from myself. I was no good at operating my life; I needed someone to do it for me. For so long I’d relied on Kyle, but I’d fucked that up this summer. The only person I had left was Silas, my best friend who never judged me, only loved me. “Can you help me to bed?” I murmured.

  “Come, love,” Silas whispered as he lifted me into his arms. Kyle watched us leave with a confused look on his face. Silas carried me down the hallway and set me in bed. I curled up and nuzzled into the pillows that still smelled of Kyle, falling asleep with this desperate notion that everything I’d thought about my life was now turned upside down and on a collision course―an impending explosion the only foreseeable outcome.

  * * *

  I SAT SIPPING coffee on the deck, staring off into space. Kyle had left yesterday afternoon after I’d insisted I was fine. I’d told him it was probably just dehydration from the drinking the night before and the ever-present humidity. He’d finally left, giving Silas strict orders to call him if anything else happened and to make sure I drank plenty of water.

  I lifted the coffee cup to my lips, my thoughts moving to Tristan. Our night in the shower, the passion, rage, and anger swirling around us as we connected like we never had before. He was rough, but I understood why. He wanted to stake his claim. Our emotions had been out of control all summer, and finally when I’d given him that little piece of me on the beach―the night we slept wrapped in each others’ arms, the morning that I’d given him hope that we could be together―it’d crushed him when Kyle had announced our engagement. We were so frustrated that we’d taken each other in the shower stall with abandon. Claiming each other with everything we had in us, all of the pent-up frustration that had simmered all summer had come out in those long breathless moments when we’d connected. And I still had the evidence on my thighs, a reminder of how Tristan had made me feel. The pool of love and lust he’d thrown me head first to drown in.

  I sensed him sitting on the chair beside me. I didn’t turn, I didn’t need to. It was him, there was no question. We sat silently. I didn’t want to know where he’d been. I didn’t want to talk about what had happened between us. I didn’t even know if I wanted him next to me. I’d tried to blame him for causing my heart to crack wide open this summer, but it had been my own fault, and in all honesty it had probably been a long time coming.

  “I’m sorry, Georgia,” he murmured after long minutes of silence stretched between us. He reached one hand out and caressed my skin with a tender fingertip. “I can’t be here anymore,” he said in a broken voice. My heart fragmented in my chest, cracks breaking open and causing fissures to splinter and bleed.

  “No,” I whispered.

  “I have to go, Georgia. This is destroying both of us,” he murmured.

  “You can’t. I’ll… I can’t…” I was sure my heart was physically shattering into a thousand tiny shards. They were falling and shredding the organs inside me. My body was crumbling, and I was losing the man that had made me feel so much more than anyone else. He’d offered me the chance to forget. He’d pleaded with me to choose him, and still I hadn’t. I’d led him on and still chosen who was safe. I hadn’t been willing to gamble, even for Tristan.

  “You chose him, Georgia.” Each word passed his lips on a painful breath. His eyelids at half-mast, he looked completely defeated. I had broken him. “I tried to get over you. I wanted so fucking bad to forget you. But every time I was with someone, it was you. Your hair, your eyes, your touch. You’re all I fucking saw. You have a choice, Georgia, but I don't. I don't have a fucking choice, I never did. It's always been you. You're it for me, but you still chose him. I’m fucking lost without you. You destroyed me. I’m not the person I was before I met you and I can't go back. Nothing works anymore without you.” His words seared a pathway to my heart. Like fire raging inside me, burning me from the inside out. The pain I’d put him through I felt acutely in my chest.

  “Tristan,” I whimpered.

  “Don't ask me to stay, Georgia. I can't stay. I want to stay for you, but I can’t. I can't stay for me. This is crushing me. You’re not mine to want.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered as hot tears fell down my cheeks.

  “I’m sorry too.” He stood and was gone. His words replayed in my head as I gazed out at the ocean, seeing nothing but him, his words, his pain. He was leaving, and my heart had stopped beating for the first time since I was twelve.

  * * *

  TRISTAN HAD BEEN gone for days, and as each ticked by I stayed in bed. I hardly ate, hardly spoke. Kyle called me every day, usually when he was crawling into bed at night. He knew nights were the hardest for me, but even hearing his soothing voice before I turned the lights out didn’t help. Silas and Drew checked on me, played cards in my room while I watched them silently from underneath my bed sheets. But nothing made a difference; I’d turned numb.

  I’d also succumbed to nightmares every night. The most horrific I’d ever had. I’d lay in the partial state between sleep and wakefulness. I knew I was dreaming, but I was powerless to stop the inevitable. I waited as terror caused my heart to race, my breath to heave painfully, my skin to prickle with fear and sweat. The nightmares were ravaging my heart like a tornado hellbent on destroying everything in its path―they took it all.

  I grew terrified to sleep. Dark circles had taken up permanent residence under my eyes. My brown irises dull, my skin pale. I was exhausted, but each time I burrowed into my pillow and closed my eyes, the nightmares returned, converging with memories. I became a shell that my pain echoed through.

  Silas lay in bed beside me, stroking my hair, pleading with me to call Kyle. Pleading with me to go home to D.C. I couldn’t bear the thought. Drew grew desperate and sent Gavin to speak to me. He begged me to let him call Tristan, said he was sure Tristan would come if I needed him, but I refused. I couldn't take any more from any of them. I’d broken them all. I’d done things to both Tristan and Kyle that were unforgivable, and their lives would be better without me.

  I padded to the kitchen in the early dawn hours a few days later. Diffused rays streamed through the curtains. I opened the French doors and shuffled to the deck. I inhaled the humid ocean air, sucking it into my lungs and begging for it to heal me―to do anything to erase the pain that was suffocating me. I moved down the porch step
s and made my way to the beach. I walked and walked, trailing my feet through the gentle waves that lapped at my toes.

  I passed our cottage. Sparing it a single glance, I felt the pain of that night stab me in the heart. We'd shared a few beautiful, stolen moments, and then he'd moved on, just like everyone had warned me he would. The very last thing I could handle and he'd done it. The lightning bolt that had seared a path to my heart at the memory of our time together eased into a dull ache until it evaporated into numbness. A hollow, black hole of blessed nothingness.

  I turned to keep walking. I walked until the beach house was nearly out of sight before I stopped and looked out at the horizon. I was sick of the nightmares, I was sick of hurting the people I loved, I was sick of being unable to make up my mind. I took a few tentative steps out into the gently lapping waves. Small strings of seaweed curled at my ankles. I kept walking. I walked until I was up to my thighs, the cotton, summer dress I wore dampened at the hem and sticking to my legs. I brushed my fingertips in the water and stood quietly. I watched a gull land and the ripple that trailed behind him as he drifted.

  I took a few more tentative steps and then sunk down in the cool ocean, my white dress plastered to my wet body, the loose fabric drifting in the water around me. Floating on my back with arms outstretched, I looked up at the stark, white clouds passing above my head. I inhaled the ocean scent and closed my eyes, a constant burn behind the eyelids from the tears I’d shed over the last several days. I didn't know what I wanted anymore, didn't know who I needed, before realization hit me. I needed myself, whoever she was, I needed to find her and nurture her. I needed to make her worth loving before I could love anyone else. An invisible weight seemed to lift as I floated. With ears submerged, I drifted in the water and lost myself in the world that existed around me.

  My eyes clenched tightly together when I heard muffled rumblings. I was desperate to block out the intrusion. My body swayed, my mind lost in thought as waves surged around me.