Stirred

by Nancy S Thompson

  Unfortunately, the first few years of my marriage ended up being less than I’d expected—less of a connection, less feeling, less contentment, less everything, really. The mediocrity inspired very little as far as my writing, and the career I’d dreamed of all through high school, college, and grad school faded away. Declan had urged me to find a more fulfilling way to earn a living. What he really meant was a more lucrative way. But, after a few years of less than marital bliss, I caved in and figured out a way to use my degree in early childhood development.

  Starting the Meydenbauer Academy Montessori School had been a life-saving decision, both earning me a living and offering fulfillment. Not much to complain about, that is, until my friends started to marry, and I began to realize what a real Prince Charming looked like, and it wasn’t Declan.

  I pulled my car up outside of Pulido and sighed as I threw it into park. All those happily married friends were waiting for me inside. I wasn’t sure I could face them without giving myself away, but damn, I wasn’t about to give Declan that kind of power over me again. With a glance in my visor mirror, I swiped at my smudged eyeliner and reapplied a dab of colored gloss to my pale lips. After a quick fluffing of my hair, I climbed out and walked into the restaurant.

  The main dining room was packed with twenty-something hipsters—men in skinny jeans and women in leggings. At least half wore some variation of clear-lensed Ray-Bans, a slouchy beanie, and multiple layers of iconic rock band t-shirts, all of which were at least one size too small. But, as rumpled and mismatched as they all appeared, I had a feeling this crowd was almost universally employed by some hot tech start-up in the area, which, at their tender ages, meant no mortgage and copious amounts of cash to spend on the bar’s obscure, yet expensive menu of tequilas and signature cocktails.

  “Eden, over here!” came a shout from the large bar area.

  I turned to the right and spied several arms waving for my attention. With a flutter of my fingers in return, I climbed the three brick steps and joined my crew at their tall, narrow table smack-dab in the middle of the bar. Happy squeals accompanied excited hugs as they pulled me into the celebration. Greetings complete, I snagged a stool at the far end, still in shock and unsure how to act around my friends.

  “Eden, you’re late!” complained my sister Emmy from the next seat over. Her finger wagged mere inches from my face, but she did so with a playful smile. “You’re way behind, girl. You need to catch up.” She held up her extra-dirty Tequini with three olives then turned her head and grinned at the guy just behind her left shoulder.

  He wasn’t the only man who’d joined the party. Along with our usual group of eight ladies were two other gentlemen who couldn’t decide which of my few single friends were most likely to accept their advances. Their attention turned from one to the next, their eyes bright with alcohol, and their grins wide with hope as their heads bobbed to the music thumping around us. I returned less than mild interest after introductions were made and handshakes were exchanged. My heart rate had still barely settled after the scene at Aurelia’s. I took in a deep breath and, with my eyes closed, blew it out slow as I settled into my seat. A hand on my arm pulled my attention to Ashlyn Maddow on my right.

  “You okay?” she asked. “You look a little stressed out.”

  I could only manage a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just…you know…long day.”

  With her strawberry-blonde head cocked to the side and her brow raised high, she hardly looked persuaded. “I’m here if you need someone to vent to. I know that’s Reely’s job, but—” She paused and looked around. “Hey, where is Aurelia, anyway? She’s usually the first one here.”

  I kept my gaze down as I pretended to pore over the lengthy drink menu. “Oh, um…she’s not coming. She texted earlier. Sore throat,” I explained. “She didn’t want to spread her germs, or…whatever. I stopped by her place on the way over, dropped off a care package.”

  I peeked up at Ash for a split second and caught a flash of doubt in her eyes. When she grabbed my hand and squeezed, I almost burst into tears. My head felt ready to explode with all the crap swirling around inside. I never was all that good with secrets and lies, but this was just too monumental to share, especially with my friends all blotto and flirting shamelessly with strangers. And Ash was closer to Reely than she was to me anyway. At least, that’s how Aurelia wanted it to appear, even though, lately, Ashlyn had reached out to me on multiple occasions, without the benefit of Aurelia at her side. She genuinely seemed interested in pursuing a closer relationship.

  “What’s wrong, Eden?” she asked. “Did Reely say or do something?” Her perfectly threaded brows rose high.

  I turned to fully face her, my back to Emmy and everyone else as they gossiped and flirted while sipping their sample trays of shots. I looked into Ashlyn’s wide grey-blue eyes, eyes that held not just sympathy, but a strange sense of understanding. Not mere insight. More like awareness.

  I swallowed the knot in my throat. “No…she was… Well…she wasn’t…alone, if you know what I mean.”

  Ash leaned back in her seat with her slim arms crossed over her chest and her lips pressed into a thin line. This time, only one brow arched high. “Well, she rarely is…alone, I mean.” she stressed. “Dare I ask with whom?”

  I looked back down and fiddled with the corner of my menu, unable to form the name.

  Ashlyn placed her long, French-manicured fingernails atop my hand and leaned in close. “Eden,” she whispered, “was it…someone we know? Maybe…” She shook her head. “I don’t know… Maybe…Declan, perhaps?”

  My head snapped up, my eyes locked with Ashlyn’s. “What? Why would you ask me that?” My mouth hung open, my brow tense.

  Ash breathed in deeply through her nose and let it out in a rush as she pulled her hand away from mine. Her nails tapped the edge of the table while she eyed me closely.

  “I’ve wanted to tell you this for a while now, but… I saw them, Eden,” she confessed. “Together. A few months back at The Bravern. They looked pretty…I don’t know…chummy? So I asked Reely about it. She said Declan had simply been consulting her on an anniversary gift for you.” Ashlyn leaned back again, a tangle of worry marring her forehead. “But then, about a month ago, I spied Declan’s Mercedes in her driveway, out back by that old detached garage. It wasn’t even five in the morning yet, Eden.”

  “Shit. A month?” I asked, not sure if I really wanted confirmation that this had been going on for that long.

  She nodded. “I was on my morning run, training for the Iron Girl. Only time it was cool enough.” She paused and swallowed hard. “There’s no mistaking his car, Eden.”

  With a groan, I looked away and said, “I know.”

  Declan had vanity plates—2L8IWIN—that made hiding virtually impossible from anyone who’d known him for any length of time.

  I shook my head. “Bastard said he was in Chicago. And Reely…” I sighed and pressed my lips tight. “She said she was seeing James again.” I went silent then, unable to make sense of any of it. With my elbows on the table, I clasped my hands into a tight fist and leaned over with my face down and my eyes closed.

  “What’re you girls whispering about over here?” Emmy asked, adding, “Hey, I don’t see any drinks, ladies. Is that water? What the hell, Eden! We’re here to drink. Come on!” She turned to the bar and called out to a waiter picking up an order. “Hey, sweetie!” She snapped her fingers then pointed at Ash and me. “A Juan Collins and a Paloma for my friends over here,” adding, “Thanks,” with a flirtatious smile when the waiter nodded. To Ash and me, she said, “When they get here, you better drink up,” before turning her brightly flushed cheeks back to the gentlemen on her other side.

  Ashlyn and I turned and stared at each other in silence then, at the same time, burst out laughing, a little relieved Emmy had broken a bit of the tension. And all things considered, with what I’d seen earlier with Declan and Aurelia, I really needed that moment of levity.
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  Ashlyn rubbed the topside of my arm. “I’m so sorry, Eden.”

  “No, I’m the one who’s sorry, Ash. I was getting a little gloomy there, wasn’t I?”

  “Not at all. I totally get how you’re feeling.”

  “That’s the weird part,” I explained with a shake of my head. “I don’t know what I’m feeling. I mean, I should be pissed at them, right? Like, really, really pissed, but…” I groaned. “I’m not. Not really. I’m disturbingly ambivalent. God, what does that say about me?”

  “Says you’ve been married a long time, and not happily. You’ve been ground down and grew apart. Happens more than you think,” she said by way explanation. “Do you have any feelings for him at all?”

  I shrugged. “No, but I never really did though. I mean, Declan and I weren’t like that, not like you and Tanner anyway, or anyone else here, for that matter,” I added, scanning my married friends around the table. “I don’t know what Aurelia’s told you about us, but…we were never a love match. Friends, sure, and I certainly hoped for more, but…when all was said and done, our marriage was more a means to an end, that end being security for me—or so Declan promised—and money for him. He couldn’t claim his trust fund until he was either thirty or married, and, back then, my prospects seemed bleak, considering my situation at the time. I figured he was my best bet, and I thought…I could fall for him if given time, so I jumped at the chance. I mean, why not, right? He’s ridiculously good-looking, charming, born into a wealthy family—”

  “Controlling,” she rebutted.

  I nodded with some reluctance. “Yes, there’s that, which is undoubtedly why he chose me. I mean, I know he had a little crush on me, but…he could’ve had any girl he wanted. He just preferred one he could have complete authority over. So he used my family history, betted on my insecurities, that I’d be easily maneuvered, or he had to think I would be, and…” I shrugged again. “Turns out, I was good at pretending. So it worked. But it was way more than that. I had another boyfriend right before Declan. His best friend, in fact.”

  Ashlyn pointed at me. “Oh, yeah, I remember Aurelia telling me about that once. She said he died right before you found out you were pregnant. Geez, I can’t even imagine,” she said as I confirmed with a nod. “And that’s when you married Declan, right? With you pregnant, there was no way either of your parents could object to you two getting married. Very fortuitous. You got the security of his name, and he got his money.”

  I shrugged, embarrassed to admit the truth, but unable to deny it. “Yes, and I found out later that he was in some kind of trouble and desperately needed that money, which explains why he jumped on the opportunity. But even still, there was more to it than that.”

  She quirked a brow. “Like what?”

  “After Jacob died, Declan was different. Attentive, always there, to hold my hand, to comfort me.”

  “Wow,” Ash interrupted. “I didn’t know he had it in him.”

  “I’d been crying off and on for weeks, mourning Jacob and freaking out over the baby. Then, one day, I snapped, broke down into a hyperventilating mess of hormonal hysteria. Declan didn’t seem to know what to do, so he just pulled me in and kissed me, and I tell ya, it worked. My head was in such a bad place, my emotions all over, and I was so tired by that point, Ash, both physically and emotionally, I couldn’t tell up from down, but once I realized what Declan was doing, I just kinda relaxed, went on autopilot, and let it happen.”

  She pulled back a fraction. “What do you mean—it? What exactly is it?”

  “You know… It.”

  Ashlyn looked scandalized. “No! Really? Just a few weeks after Jacob died?”

  I groaned. “Christ, Ash, I was so lonely, so confused and scared. I just wanted to have a sense of normalcy for one freaking second. That first time, I simply closed my eyes,” I recalled as I allowed my lids to flutter shut, “and pretended Declan was Jacob…” I trailed off, reliving the moment in my head, feeling every sensation. Then I opened my eyes and locked onto Ashlyn’s. “And then he just…did it. And Jacob just…vanished. Poof!” I said, the fingers on both hands splaying wide at once. “Everything changed in that one split second, and there was no way I could ever go back.”

  Ashlyn shook her head. “Go back? To what?”

  “Come on, Ash, you know Declan. Once he claimed me,” I explained with finger quotes, “he took over. I was his, and he was in control, when all I was looking for was a little reprieve.” I shook my head, disappointed in myself. “But you know, Declan helped me through the worst days of my life. I don’t think I could’ve made it through without him, and, in a way, I loved him for doing that. So, when everything settled down, I knew I had to tell him I was pregnant. I owed him that much. At first, he was thrilled, until I confessed it was Jacob’s. Then he flipped out.”

  “Kind of an odd response. You’d think he’d panic either way. Why would a young guy, an undergrad—what, twenty-two years old? Why would he be thrilled?” she wondered.

  “His trust fund. If he had gotten me pregnant, there’d be no way his parents could object to us getting married, and he’d get his money without having to wait another eight years. And like I said, apparently, he couldn’t wait. He needed that money.”

  A light sparked in Ashlyn’s eyes. “Ah, I see. Hm.” She looked at me and bobbed her head. “So what did you do? Or better yet, what did Declan do?”

  I snorted. “Went to my mom, told her I was pregnant with his child, then asked permission to marry me, which, of course, for her, was a no brainer.”

  “For her maybe, but what about you?”

  I shrugged. “What else could I do? It’s not like I had any better options at that time. I needed to get through college, and, hopefully, grad school.”

  “What about his parents?”

  “He told them the baby was his. We got married. Declan got his money. End of story.” I sighed and leaned back in my seat. “But not a happy ending, at least not for me. I went into labor a few weeks early and lost the baby. I always had this nagging feeling that Declan was relieved since she wasn’t his. So, there I was, childless and caught in a sham marriage with a man I hoped I could eventually fall in love with, but whom made that very difficult. Turns out the money was his primary goal, not me.”

  Ashlyn shook her head. “Why didn’t you just ask for a divorce?”

  “I wanted to, but there were conditions to his trust, and I’d signed a contract, a sort of prenup, but one that also provided for me. We had to stay married until our third anniversary, then he’d be vested. After that, he’d pay off my student loans then cover grad school. If I left early, I’d walk away with nothing. We’d already been married nearly a year. Two more seemed worth it to come away clear of any debt. So, I agreed. But Declan saw no reason why he couldn’t enjoy all the benefits of marriage, whether I wanted to or not. Apparently, I owed him for the life he’d given me. He was relentless, at least until I got pregnant again. Then he couldn’t have cared less. Just under two years in, I gave birth to Ian. Strangely enough, he received another generous sum of money. I think it was incentive from his parents to provide a living legal heir.”

  She offered me a sympathetic grin. “Certainly not ideal, but at least it all worked out, right?”

  “Worked out?” I repeated, my brow high in surprise. “How do you figure that?”

  “It could’ve been a lot worse. You might not have the man of your dreams, but you do have pretty much everything else—a great kid, a gorgeous home, enough money for a lifetime of security. That’s something, isn’t it?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe, but…except for Ian, it all means nothing without someone to love who loves me right back.” I dropped my chin so she wouldn’t notice I was about to cry.

  Ash grabbed my hands and stooped to capture my eye. “Oh, Eden, I’m so sorry.”

  She drew me in for a squeeze. I rested my chin along her shoulder as tears streamed down my cheeks. We remained locked in a sisterly hug until Ashlyn
straightened back up. She wiped her own tears away then sat there and stared at me with her sad eyes. I shrugged, like it didn’t bother me anymore, like time had healed that hole in my heart. But just talking about it all had a way of ripping the scab off the wound, and my emotions began to get the best of me, tears seeping through like blood. My shoulders shook with twenty years of pent-up emotion, of grief and loss, anger and resentment, of shattered dreams and utter disappointment in myself.

  Ash rubbed comforting circles along my shoulder. “It’s okay,” she said over and over.

  But I disagreed with a firm shake of my head. “No, it’s not okay, Ash. Because, besides catching Declan and Aurelia, today marks twenty years since Ivy died,” I explained through broken sobs. “She was my only connection to the one man I truly loved, and the only man who ever genuinely loved me.” I choked out then stood up as the emotions became unbearable. “I’m sorry, I…I need a moment. If you’ll excuse me.”

  Without a backwards glance, I grabbed my bag and fled.

  The crowd in the bar had swelled in the last hour, making it a challenge to snake my way toward the restroom. I received salacious stares and bawdy comments as I pushed through the bodies, something I, as a former ugly duckling, never got used to. Just as I approached the vestibule outside the bathrooms, a guy in his mid-twenties blocked my path. He moved when I moved, side to side, a choreographed dance purposely hindering my progress, all with what I’m sure he thought was his most irresistibly charming smile, but which only made me want to knock his teeth down his throat.

  “Hey, babe, you look like a smart lady,” he said then glanced over his shoulder at a table of cavemen urging him on with vulgar gestures and lewd remarks.

  I tried to push by him, but he continued the dance.

  “Let me by, please,” I begged as I swiped at my tears.

  “Just answer one question first, okay? You know the dove is the bird of peace, right?” he asked.