WORTHY, Part 3 (The Worthy Series)

by Lexie Ray

  No, I was hurting myself. I had been hurting myself this whole time, not even giving myself the chance to try to heal. I’d been making the wrong decisions for whole months, letting this pain extend longer and longer. I couldn’t bear it anymore. I couldn’t bear it.

  “Keep going,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut. God, if he could just make me come, maybe I’d get a few brief seconds of nothingness. I just wanted to come, but it wasn’t looking like it was going to be in the cards for me. Milo was doing everything he thought was right, but my body just wasn’t responding to him. My mind and heart never had.

  I hung on to him as he thrusted uselessly, grunting and giving little groans as he took his pleasure. Milo deserved his pleasure, and I didn’t deserve mine. It was that simple. It wasn’t complicated at all. He had done nothing wrong here, and I’d done everything wrong. It was only right that it should be like this — me feeling nothing and him feeling all that he could handle.

  “I’m going to come,” he groaned, pushing harder and harder into my body. “I’m going to come, April.”

  I hugged him to me as he shuddered his release, exhaling heavily and kissing my forehead.

  Milo lay on top of me for several minutes before he had the strength to pull out and roll over.

  “Nothing for you?” he asked, his brow wrinkled with concern. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” I lied. I was no better than I deserved.

  “Do you want me to eat you out?” he asked. “Do you want to touch yourself for me?”

  “It felt good,” I said, lying again. “I’m just fine the way I am.” The thought of his mouth on me again made me want to avoid it at all costs. I didn’t want to feel good. I wanted to wallow here in my self-made hell.

  Milo studied me for a while as I stared up at the ceiling. I knew he was looking at me. It was all I could do not to rage and cry and curl up in a ball. I didn’t want to be emotional in front of him. I didn’t want to hurt him.

  The girl at the bottom of the well sidled out, wondering if she was needed, wondering how willing I was to keep my emotions at bay. I didn’t want her here, but she was here all the same.

  “April. Talk to me.”

  I took a deep breath. It was time to talk. It was time to do something right for a change, even if it was going to hurt us both.

  “Everything you said was true,” I said, keeping my eyes on the ceiling. God, I hated this feeling. When it was over, it was really over. I should never have tried to make it work with Milo. It just hadn’t been right.

  “Of course everything I say is true,” he said, smiling. “You’ll have to tell me what this is in regards to, though.”

  I hated to burst his bubble. I really hated to do it to him. But this had to be said now before it got worse, before I could let Milo think that I was completely his anymore. I’d tried to be his. I’d given it a God honest try. But Jonathan’s place in my heart apparently couldn’t be replaced. He would always be there, no matter who I tried to inter in his stead.

  “Everything you said about Jonathan and me,” I said. “We’re still married. We’re only separated because he can’t find me. I look … different … from what I did when we were first together, and he doesn’t recognize me. That was why he was able to come into the office that day and think I was a total stranger.”

  I glanced over at Milo, but his face didn’t betray anything. I returned my gaze to the ceiling, unable to look at him as I plunged onward, desperate to tell at least one person my truth.

  “This was all revenge,” I continued. “That assumption was true, too. He betrayed me and believed someone over me that I had betrayed him. I was — I had this life, inside of me …”

  I couldn’t go on. Talking about my unborn daughter, the one I’d lost by the cottage, was much too painful. I tried to clear my throat and decided not to go down that road, even if it was the shortest path to the truth.

  “I still love him, after everything,” I said. “I’m sorry, Milo. I’ve been messed up inside of my head about everything that has happened. I’m sorry that I used you and the firm to carry out this terrible task. No one deserves happiness more than you, and you’re not going to find it with me. You have so much to offer to the right person. I’m just not her.”

  He sat up slowly and gathered his clothes, not looking at me. I hadn’t known I still had any heart inside of me to break, but it was having a good show of it now.

  “Milo, say something,” I said. “Tell me how much you hate me. Tell me to fuck off. Tell me something.”

  “You have a need to be punished that I’m not going to give in to, April,” he said. “It’s always been there, and it’s only just now made sense to me. You have some things you need to work out, and only you can handle them. I’m sorry that we couldn’t work — I really did care for you.”

  I couldn’t offer him any comfort. The only thing I’d cared about when I was with him was guaranteeing that I could destroy Jonathan’s life.

  “I’m sorry for everything, Milo,” I said. “I really am.” That was one thing I could offer him: my never-ending regret. That pool would never run dry, I was afraid.

  “Goodbye, April,” he said, walking out the door and out of my life.

  Goodbye. A word I wasn’t very good at.

  Chapter Seven

  I was wallowing in my loft, thinking about Milo and how wrong it had been to ever let him into my life, when my phone buzzed. It was my initial thought to ignore it. Anything Milo would say to me would be too painful to read. I had wronged him, but that had been April Smith’s prerogative. She just used people as a means to an end. Milo had just been one of her many victims.

  I’d even thrown away the box of leftovers from Ganesh the last night we were together, unable to even think about eating the last of my chicken tikka masala, or any other Indian food, for that matter. I couldn’t even bear to go to the firm, to show my face in the place I’d almost ruined. Felix had become my contact on the Wharton Group case, and I knew he was waiting for the go ahead to go public. I was still in possession of the file, so no one could do anything without me. I couldn’t even bear to look inside of it, though. I knew I wouldn’t be able to understand the figures or even half of what was written, but the damage and hatred and pain were what I was afraid of.

  I didn’t even want it near me, let alone in the same place I slept, but there wasn’t any choice. Any time I got the hankering to open a safety deposit box at the bank and shove it away from me, I tried to remind myself that it was just a sheaf of paper. How could a sheaf of paper harm me? It was the actions that I’d taken to obtain that paper that disturbed me the most.

  My glass of bourbon was empty, so I used that as an excuse to grab my phone as I padded back to the kitchen to refill it and drain my sorrows.

  The phone had a text message from Ash on it, telling me to call him. I frowned. I hoped everything was all right. It had been perhaps too long since I’d been in contact with him. I’d always meant to drop him a line or send him a basket or something — especially with everything he’d done for me — but the Wharton Group case had kept me too busy.

  Of course, the Wharton Group case was over and done with — well, practically so, anyways. All I had to do was tell Milo to pull the trigger, though perhaps it would be best to tell Felix to take everything over now. I didn’t think Milo would care about anything I said anymore.

  I poured a couple of fingers of bourbon and dropped some ice cubes in the glass while the phone rang. I wasn’t doing anything else. I might as well see what Ash wanted or needed. My life lacked its purpose once more. I was adrift without a goal or a target.

  “Hey, sweetie,” Ash said, excited and more effervescent than ever. “I didn’t catch you at a bad time?”

  “Of course not,” I said, looking at the glass of bourbon for a few seconds before taking it back over to the couch. “There’s never a bad time to talk. What’s going on?”

  “I would like to cordially invite you to mine
and Hans’ bachelor party!” Ash said. I was pretty sure I could hear him clapping his hands with delight, though I couldn’t be sure. “We wanted to do something fun like this before the wedding, so it’s kind of last minute. We would’ve sent invitations, but this weekend was the only weekend we were both free. Please say you’ll come.”

  “Aren’t bachelor parties sort of traditionally all-male drinking fests?” I asked.

  “Sweetie, we’re not a traditional couple, are we?” Ash retorted wryly. “Our version of a bachelor party is just an excuse to imbibe with all of our loved ones ahead of the big day.”

  “Well, I think I could definitely manage that, then,” I said, laughing. “I was afraid you were going to drag me to Vegas or a strip club or something like that.”

  “You scandalous thing,” Ash giggled. “Though I think there actually might be a stripper at the party. Male, of course. Hans has been threatening me with the idea, though you can’t really threaten the willing, I suppose.”

  “It sounds like fun,” I said, shaking my head. “What can I bring?”

  “Just yourself and that cute little lawyer I hear you’ve been seeing,” Ash said.

  “Oh,” I sighed. “The cute little lawyer and I aren’t an item anymore.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Ash said, sounding genuine. “I thought it was good for you.”

  “I don’t know that it was, actually,” I said. “And if I’m being perfectly honest, it wasn’t good for him, either. It was kind of a toxic thing.”

  “Well, just bring yourself, then, and we’ll turn this breakup into ancient history,” Ash said, donning his bubbly voice once more. “I promise that Hans knows loads of straight guys. Who knows? You might even find someone here you like.”

  “Thanks for the consideration, Ash,” I said. “I will definitely be there.”

  I actually sort of looked forward to some social interaction. I hadn’t gone out to dinner since Milo and I had ended things, and the loft did get awfully lonesome for so small a place. It would be good to see Ash and Hans, and to not be April Smith for a while.

  April Smith was having an identity crisis, and she was missing more days of work than she was making during a week. I was drinking too much, and my hangovers were too venomous to let me out of bed in time to make it to the firm.

  I knew that it wasn’t good. I knew that I couldn’t be like this forever, but it was all I had now: my couch and my bourbon. I lifted my glass in an imaginary toast and then downed another gulp.

  -----

  It struck me that I could go shopping for the bachelor party, get a new dress and some new shoes to match, and try to get out of this funk, but it just didn’t feel right. Maybe with the way things had ended with Milo, I didn’t feel like I deserved to have any fun. I deserved my foul mood and my excessive drinking because Milo had deserved better than what I’d given him.

  Instead, I got dressed that evening in a little black number with some kitten-heeled sandals encrusted in rhinestones. The pixie haircut I’d given myself was so nice and easy to style. I’d never anticipated that cutting all of my curls off in a psychotic episode would make my life so much more convenient.

  I rubbed some gel through my short, brown locks and slicked them back. I looked like I had just gotten out of a pool, my hair shiny and wet. I played up my makeup big time, going with a luscious red lipstick and smoky black eyes. Some sparkly chandelier earrings finished up my look, and I studied my appearance in the mirror for a few long moments.

  I didn’t know who I looked like anymore. I’d become a stranger even to myself.

  Not wanting to dwell on it, or ruin the rest of my evening, I turned the light off in the bathroom and put a couple of bottles of nice wine into some gift bags for Ash and Hans. It was just a short taxi ride from my loft to Ash and Hans’ condo — which was full of people, bass from a DJ pumping.

  I stayed outside for a few minutes, fidgeting on the sidewalk and not wanting to go inside. It would’ve been better if I’d still been with Milo, but that ship had sailed. I didn’t even deserve to think about Milo anymore, especially the idea that his presence would make my existence more convenient, or easier to bear. He deserved someone who actually appreciated him for who he was, not what he could provide in a pinch.

  The condo was full of people I didn’t know, but I was going to get through this. Ash Martin was the only friend that I had, besides Felix’s dubious presence, and I didn’t want to alienate him, too.

  I squared my shoulders and marched right into the fray.

  Hans was the first person I saw, his shoulder length hair whipping back and forth in time to the music. They had really gone all out for this bachelor party. I didn’t believe Ash for a second that it had been a spur of the moment thing. There were penis shapes everywhere — penis cookies, a penis cake, penis garlands adorning the ceiling, everything. Hans had a penis shaped whistle around his neck that he brought to his mouth to blow every few seconds.

  I’d never had the privilege of going to a bachelor or bachelorette party, so this was all new to me. Apparently, penises were a thing.

  “Michelle! Oh my God! I’m so glad you could make it!”

  I turned around to see Ash, who also had a penis whistle and was wearing a head wreath of various dildos. I must’ve gawked for too long, because it made him guffaw and blush.

  “What, this old thing?” he asked, lifting it down for me to inspect closer.

  “It’s pretty amazing,” I said, poking at a silicone shaft. “The decorations in here are great.”

  “Thank you so much,” Ash gushed, setting his wreath of sex toys aside. “I mean, you only really get married once, right? Well, nowadays, you can never tell. Hans and I wanted to have fun and do it right, so we didn’t really spare any expense.”

  “I really wish you all the best,” I said, handing him the bags of wine. “Don’t go drinking all of this in one place, now.”

  “Oh my,” he said, peering at the labels. “Michelle, you shouldn’t have.”

  “Oh, please,” I said. “You’re my best friend, Ash. You and Hans deserve all of the happiness in the world.”

  “I’m hiding these,” he said, holding the bags to his chest. “I don’t want any of these drunk fucks mistaking this for house wine. Speaking of which, we have a bartender set up in the kitchen. Please, help yourself.”

  “Of course,” I said. “Enjoy.”

  I left Ash to go hide his wine and mingle some more and drifted to the kitchen. Before I could get there, though, the music cut off, and the DJ started speaking in the microphone.

  “Let’s hear it for the lovely couple, Ash and Hans,” he said, and everyone erupted into cheers and applause. “We have a special guest here who wants to tell them something before their wedding.”

  A well-dressed man in a suit and tie materialized through the crowd, and everyone backed off a little to give him space.

  “I just want to tell Ash and Hans that I’m all theirs on this special night,” the man said, and a blistering bass set began. He moved his hips in time to it while everyone watched in stunned silence. When he ripped off his entire suit — except for the tie, cuffs, and a pair of briefs emblazoned with a tie of their own — everyone, including me, suddenly understood that this was a stripper. As everyone cheered and screamed at the display, I used the distraction to make my way to the kitchen.

  I needed a drink to enjoy this.

  Cocktail in hand, I turned back to the spectacle. The stripper had cornered Ash, who looked like he was about to die of laughter — that would be sad before the nuptials — and was grinding against him. Hans was equally tickled, snapping pictures from all angles as Ash got the wedding present of a lifetime. With a small pop, the briefs evaporated into the tiniest string thong I’d ever seen. There was nothing, absolutely nothing left to the imagination — not that it’d been hard not to see what had been lying in wait beneath the thin material of his briefs.

  Ash was cackling so hard that tears were pour
ing down his face, and Hans had given up on documenting the show for posterity and was instead focused on the stripper’s posterior, spanking his bare cheeks for all he was worth.

  This was what love was all about, I realized: two people who knew how to have a good time, how to enjoy everything life threw at them, how to laugh and love each other and be each other’s best friends. It was bittersweet to see how much Ash and Hans were enjoying themselves. As happy as I was for them, it was too easy to remember that I thought I’d be that happy once — a long time ago, when Jonathan and I had said our vows.

  I downed my cocktail and turned back to the bartender in the kitchen. It was an ingenious setup, really. Ash and Hans’ kitchen opened up to the rest of the floor space in a window. It was absolutely designed to have someone behind that window, serving you whatever you wanted. My cocktail refreshed, I turned back to the scene. The stripper had taken off his tie and was using it to lasso Hans, who was galloping around wildly, apparently blind drunk. I’d never seen Ash laugh so hard in the entire time I’d known him, and I had to smile a little bit.

  They deserved to be happy, to have the happiest marriage possible.

  “Seems like a waste, don’t you think?” a woman standing next to me said.

  “How’s that?” I asked, having to practically yell over the music to be heard.

  “All those muscles on that stripper, and he’s probably gay,” the woman said.

  “Might be a waste to you and me, but not to the happy couple,” I pointed out.

  “Truth,” the woman concurred, and I looked at her for the first time.

  Son of a bitch. It was Jane Wharton, Jonathan’s sister. She was wearing a tiny, sparkling dress and the way her hair was mussed told me she was at the sloppy stage of drunkenness, but it was Jane all the same. I hadn’t seen her in ages. I remembered suddenly that she was the one who’d introduced me to Ash in the first place. He’d given her the perky set of breasts that were currently threatening to spill out of her dress.