The Scheme

by Mia Kayla

  He glared at me with burning eyes as his temper flared. “What is your fucking problem? He’s had a taste of you; now he’s ready to move the fuck on to Brandy over here.” He nodded to the blonde still pawing my man.

  “Brenda,” the blonde corrected him.

  “Yeah, whatever,” Trey muttered with a wave of his hand. “How was your date with the doctor dude? He didn’t fulfill your dreams, so you’re back here for a real man?”

  “That’s not it,” I insisted, peering over Trey’s shoulder to get a glimpse of Brian, but Trey moved to block my view. “Have you ever wished something to be true so badly that you couldn’t see anything else? I made a mistake,” I confessed, my insides breaking. I needed him to believe me and realize how much I regretted ever turning him away.

  “Get out of here,” Trey seethed. “He’s done with you. You had your chance, and you fucking blew it. Leave.”

  I tried to move around Trey, but he blocked my view of Brian. I decided to say it anyway. “I’m sorry. For ever hurting you. For ever thinking that anyone could be better for me than you. For thinking that someone else was it . . . when you were standing right in front of me the whole time.” I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt my cheeks wet from my tears.

  When Trey finally moved a little, Brian was looking at me, but his eyes were unreadable. He turned away, as though he couldn’t bear to see me cry, and then he uttered the words that shattered me and crushed the hope I had felt just moments ago. “Just go, Kendy.” Then he stepped inside his apartment, not bothering to look back as Brenda followed after him.

  The color drained from my face as my lungs constricted, making it difficult to breathe, difficult to stand. I fell back against the wall, my legs turning to jelly.

  There was no sympathy in Trey’s eyes as he followed Brian inside, followed by his girl. When the door shut behind him, both hands flew to my chest as more hot tears coursed down my face. An ache so painful jabbed at my heart.

  How could I have been so stupid to let my fears consume me to the point of pushing Brian away? Now my worst fear had come true. It was too late. I was too late.

  ***

  I lay in bed for hours, a crying, slobbering mess. I’d ruined things, and there was no one to blame but myself. As the light of dawn began to shine over my purple comforter, I pulled the covers closer to my chin, wiping my tears onto the blanket.

  I couldn’t stop picturing Brian with that girl. It hurt so badly to think of him being with anyone else but me, even though I’d basically thrown him away.

  Now I was alone with my pain.

  An unbearable ache in the center of my chest spread throughout my limbs. This ache maintained through the evening, only intensifying with every memory of our time spent together. I shut my eyes tightly, but the images of both of them together became more vivid. Bile rose from my stomach to the top of my throat. I felt like hurling last night’s dinner all over my bed, but I chewed on my bottom lip and prayed for sleep to come. Maybe sleep would help.

  Everything the psychic had said was playing in my head—from my father to my career to moving to New York. From my mother’s engagement, and finally to her prediction of my dream guy, the guy who was supposed to mend my broken heart, give me hope about love, life, and my future.

  I shook my head, knowing full well that James wasn’t it. I should’ve known all along. I don’t know why I hadn’t seen it. Maybe before Brian it would’ve worked out, but now nothing would ever compare to him. No one else could ever come close.

  I didn’t get it. Maybe Beth was right. Maybe my future had changed.

  My mind was a jumbled mess. It was like trying to decipher computer code. All I knew was that I loved Brian. I knew it in my core, the type of love that left you breathless and you wanted it to last forever. The type of love that made my heart race and my palms sweat like I was a teenaged girl. The type of love where he was all that occupied my mind, when I was at work, when I was at home, or wherever I was, and all I craved was his company.

  After the sun rose, I gave up on sleep and shifted off the bed. One thing Kendy didn’t do was fall down and quit.

  I needed to see him, fight for him, fight for our forever. I needed to try again, but not in front of people I didn’t know, and not when Brian was half-ass wasted.

  But I was going to fight for him, just like he’d fought for me.

  ***

  BRIAN

  Four Tylenols later, I still had a major headache. It pounded painfully as I tied up the garbage bag and carried it down the stairs and out into the fresh outdoors. After seeing Kendy last night, I couldn’t stomach sleeping with Brenda, even though Kendy had most likely been with Stiff.

  Still, I knew having sex with her wouldn’t cure the ache, so what was the point? Brenda ended up knocked out on my bed, and I slept on the couch. This morning, I had to wake her up and usher her out so I could really sleep soundly. But sleep never came.

  The warm air outside hit my bare chest, and I squinted at the sun above me. The light was intensifying my headache, making my hangover even worse. I trudged over to the dumpster as the stench filtered through my nose, already making my stomach churn. Lifting the lid, I tossed the black garbage bag inside. When I turned around, I had to do a double take.

  Kendy?

  I was imagining things, probably still half asleep. There was no way she was standing right in front of me, looking like an angel who had fallen from Heaven.

  The sunlight shone directly on her, mimicking a halo, but when she spoke and her angelic voice washed over me, I knew I was not dreaming.

  ***

  KENDY

  “Hi,” I said, twisting my hands anxiously in front of me. When I saw his lickable, chiseled abs, my mind flickered to Brenda and him together, and the unbearable pain that he’d been with her resurfaced.

  “What’re you doing here?” There was bite behind his voice, more now than last night.

  “I wanted to talk. Without the audience,” I said softly, but loud enough for him to hear.

  Every ounce of me wanted to rush toward him, wrap my arms around his middle, and kiss him, start anew today. I’d never wanted anything as badly as I did in that moment.

  “Kendy, there’s nothing to talk about.” His tone was hard, the tightness in his cold stare evident. “You’ve said all you needed to say.” He moved past me, and I took a deep breath, gathering all the courage within me because if he walked away, this would be it for us. The end.

  My heart stammered in my chest at an uncontrollably quick pace. “I love you. I love you. I’m so, so, so sorry.” My voice leaked such emotion that he stopped mid-step. But he didn’t turn around. I wrung my hands together, trying to keep my fingers from trembling further.

  Warmth spread behind my eyes, an indication that I’d cry at any moment as the magnitude of how much I needed him hit me. “I didn’t sleep with James. Throughout the whole date, I only thought of you.” I threw everything out there, all at once, hoping it would make a difference and praying he’d forgive me. Anything to win him back, to make him love me again.

  Please say you still love me . . .

  Because I’m utterly and irrevocably in love with you.

  ***

  BRIAN

  I tried not to let what she was saying affect me, but it did. I released a sigh of relief. I didn’t know if I could’ve handled it if she’d slept with him. I couldn’t even think about another man touching her without my muscles tensing and imagining beating the douche to a bloody pulp.

  I needed to see her face, just so I could drink her in, but I hesitated. I wasn’t sure what this meant, but I was tired of putting everything out there for her and getting shut down.

  I wanted to turn around but I was so fucking tired of getting hurt over and over again.

  ***

  KENDY

  “I wrote you a poem.” His back was still to me, but I kept on. I hated that I couldn’t read his face or his reaction. My hands shook as I reached in my purs
e and pulled out any crumpled piece of paper. I was grasping at straws here, using my last life line as I remembered what he’d said when we were drunk and playing ‘I Never’.

  Once he stepped away from me, I’d lose him. This was my last chance.

  I closed my eyes and inhaled a long, calming breath as my hands began to sweat. “Roses are red. Violets are blue . . . I made a mistake. I love you.” I gulped hard, wrinkling the receipt in my tight grip.

  I said it with such conviction, such sincerity that, even though the poem was stupid and I had just pulled it out of my ass, he had to know it was sincere.

  I held my breath and didn’t move a muscle. It seemed as though the silence stretched on forever.

  I waited.

  And waited.

  And waited.

  Please, Brian. I need you. Give me a sign that you need me, too.

  This time, I didn’t want a psychic to tell me anything. I just wanted Brian’s reaction, just him. He was all that mattered now. I didn’t need anyone else telling me how my life was going to go. I wasn’t going to put my faith in someone else’s prediction in my future. I already knew how I wanted it to be. And I wanted him.

  Just when my heart was about to plummet to the dirty ground, he turned. So slowly, it was almost too painful to take in. But when I saw his face, his blue eyes meeting mine, I released a thankful sigh.

  “I’m tired of getting hurt,” he said, his jaw tight and his eyes cautious.

  “I’m tired of not moving on,” I said softly. He was speaking of his past, and I was speaking of mine, too, because that’s just what it was, our pasts, not our future.

  The tension in his stance lessened as our eyes locked. And as silence built between us, the congestion of the Manhattan noise surrounded us in the empty alley.

  I broke the silence. “I’m not going to hurt you anymore, not if I can help it.”

  We didn’t make a move toward each other. I was afraid if I approached him, he’d reject me. My heart was on my sleeve. One more move and it would fall to the ground and shatter.

  He stood there for a moment, assessing me. “I want all in,” he said. “It’s all or nothing with me. I don’t share.”

  I nodded. “All in,” I said it with conviction as a glimmer of hope bloomed in my chest. I was still worried that he might change his mind, though, and I contemplated what to say next.

  But then I had a brilliant idea. Instead of speaking, I took action. I retreated backward toward the fire escape by the dumpster, and Brian lifted an eyebrow as I pulled the worn steel ladder to the ground. With shaky hands, I took a step up the rungs, and then another. I was a few feet up when I looked back down at him.

  I suddenly felt woozy.

  Don’t look, don’t look. Okay. Deep breath.

  “What’re you doing?” A flash of humor crossed his face. It was the most positive reaction I’d received from him since I’d kicked him out of my apartment, so I welcomed it, feeling lighter already.

  “I’m scared,” I admitted, taking another step up the ladder and gripping the iron tightly. My white knuckles were a stark contrast against the black flaking iron, rusted from age. “Before you, it was only Cole.” I took another shaky step as Brian made his way toward me. I sensed he was afraid my crazy ass might fall and break a leg. If I was being honest, I was more than a little frightened, but I needed to prove a point. “It was a reckless kind of love, twisted. I didn’t have control, and I hate feeling out of control. But . . . that’s how I feel when I’m with you.”

  Another step. I was more than three feet from the ground now, and when I registered how far up I was, I hugged the stairs toward me and closed my eyes.

  Don’t look!

  “Are you okay up there?” he asked, worry heavy in his tone.

  “Y-yeah. It’s just that . . .” I opened my eyes and peered down at him and only him. If I looked past him or below him, I might pass out completely. “After that night, I vowed to always be in control of every relationship I was ever in. With you, I feel like I’m on some crazy roller coaster ride that takes me higher and higher. I’m afraid of that final dip that brings us to the end. You scare me, Brian,” I said, the honesty seeping out of my mouth.

  A sheen of sweat formed at my brow as anxiety built in me as I noted my distance from the ground. “But I’ve come to realize I’d rather be on some crazy ride with you than some lazy river with Stiff.”

  At his tiny smile, I continued, “I wanted to believe that psychic because she told me I would heal. It was the easier route to believe in those predictions than to take control of my own life. But I don’t care anymore because I can’t stand another day without you.” I proceeded up the stairs again, trying my hardest to ignore the ladder shaking around me. When I started to lose my footing, though, I let out a small scream.

  Brian’s eyes widened. “Kendy, get down,” he commanded. He gripped the bottom of the ladder, keeping it steady.

  “I’m just letting you know. I’m ready to fall.” I shook my head because I made no sense. This was such a stupid idea. Stupid, stupid! I took another deep breath. “I’ve already fallen in love with you, but this is my crazy way of saying . . . I’m ready to enjoy the rush of falling. Letting go of control because that’s what love is.” My eyes locked with his as I gripped the back of the ladder, facing him. My heart stammered against the cage of my chest. “The question is . . . am I too late? Or are you ready to catch me?”

  I held my breath, not looking at the ground, and once again only focusing on his beautiful face.

  His smile was blinding, seriously the most magnificent thing I’d ever seen.

  And I knew—he was saying yes.

  “I was ready to catch you on that very first day,” he said, his eyes shining up at me.

  I let go of the ladder and balanced on my feet. “I trust you. You’re going to catch me. I know.” I met his eyes, unwavering and knowing that I could trust this man with my life. But when my gaze flickered to the concrete below me and I realized how high I was, I gripped the ladder again with my clammy hands. “Remember . . . catch me. Because if I bust my eye open and need stitches, James is going to have to mend me up. Do you really want that?”

  He let out a boyish, carefree laugh, the one that made my insides tingle. “That’ll never, ever happen.”

  And then I fell.

  And he caught me.

  And I would’ve thought it would be like in the movies where I fall and land smoothly in his arms.

  But no, not in my story.

  I fell in the most unbelievable, awkward position, my elbow jabbing him in the shoulder. He almost dropped me, catching me by one leg as my other leg hit the ground.

  Once I could catch my breath, we both laughed, and then he set me on the ground and lifted me again. But this time, it was just like we were on our honeymoon, his arms firmly under my knees.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and grinned. “You caught me,” I said breathlessly.

  His face turned serious, sweet, and tender, along with his voice. “Was there ever any doubt?”

  I peered up at the sky, pretending to think deeply. “Well, I was a little witch to you the other day.”

  He leaned into me, our foreheads almost touching. “Baby, there’s no way in hell I was going to let Stiff work on you . . . not when you’re mine.”

  His. That I was. Forever and ever, if he let me.

  I touched his forehead with mine and closed the gap between us.

  He kissed my nose and whispered, “The course of true love never did run smooth.”

  “Shakespeare.” I recognized the quote on the coaster he had on his table, the night we’d played ‘I never’.

  He nodded as a flash of humor crossed his face. “Now, let me see that poem you wrote me.”

  A blush crept up my cheeks. “Uh . . .”

  The teasing amusement was back in his eyes as he let out a carefree laugh.

  Busted.

  When he pulled back, he asked, “Are you h
urt?”

  “What?”

  “Because I’m about to make you feel a whole lot better.” The glint in his eye sent shivers down my spine.

  I was smiling so big my cheeks hurt. “Oh, I’m hurt all right.” I was picturing the ‘better,’ and my insides leapt with anticipation. Then our lips connected in the most soul-crushing, body-warming kiss from my ‘it’ man.

  EPILOGUE

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  KENDY

  The smell of grease filtered through the air as I bounced on my stool at the Chinese restaurant and waited for Brian to bring us our meals.

  “Chicken fried rice for the princess,” he said as he placed my food in front of me and sat down opposite me.

  When he handed me chopsticks, I glanced at my watch. “Are you going to be late for work?”

  He tore through the red paper, opening his chopstick packet, and shook his head. “It’s fine. I don’t bend the rules often.”

  Of course not. One of Brian’s best qualities was that he was responsible and took his job seriously. Who would have guessed that I would settle down with the good boy? But as I took in his handsome face, I knew I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  As we both chowed down, my phone rang, and Beth’s cheesy face popped right up.

  “Hi, girlfriend,” I answered.

  Brian continued to eat as I chatted with Beth. Ever since I’d told her that we’d made it official, she called daily to get the deets. She was more than excited for me, ecstatic I had finally picked myself a good one.

  “You busy?”

  “Kind of.” I lowered my voice to a sexy tone. “We’re just having lunch. Brian had his dessert earlier.”

  “It’s the middle of the day!” she protested, incredulous.

  “Please . . .” Sarcasm was heavy in my tone. “Don’t tell me you and Kenty Poo don’t do the nasty in the middle of the day.”

  “We’re at work,” she said primly.

  “Your point?” I laughed, knowing they were most likely at it like rabbits being the newlyweds they were.

  Brian cocked an eyebrow, and I knew I was being a tad bit rude talking to Beth on his lunch break.