by Haley Jenner
“Hey, guys,” blondie chirps. She fucking chirps, all bubbly and bright.
“Tammy,” everyone unknowingly betrays me, their chorus of greeting like individual knives in my neurotic mind.
Arm slung across her shoulders, Jake meets my stare head-on. “Aubrey, you remember Tammy?”
I choke on my response. Unable to form words, I nod instead, forcing a stiff smile.
Tammy offers me a small wave, her face showing nothing but genuine happiness at seeing me again.
I have no right to feel like he’s broken my trust, but I do. I feel consumed by the betrayal of him touching someone else. Affectionately. Intimately. Possessively. She doesn’t deserve him. She can’t make him happy.
"Tequila," David grunts, pushing in beside me, eyes scowling at the empty shot glass sitting in front of me. I avoid his glare, winking over at Jake instead.
"Seems you know my girlfriend better than I do," David addresses Jake with irritated humor.
I watch as Jake's mouth opens on a sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. The comment is laughable, if only David really knew how much better Jake knew me.
"Only just found out she doesn't drink wine," David continues, and Jake's eyes slice to mine in disgust, his arm tightening around Tammy’s neck, pulling her closer into his body. His disgust is deserved. I'm disgusted at myself. But why can’t he understand that this is my life and I have to live with the consequences of my decisions. Not him. Me.
Jake dated Tammy in school. She has a reputation of being an airhead. Her intelligence is not one of her strengths, but she watches me closely, her eyes flicking up to Jake’s scowl directed at David and it’s clear that she’s not as stupid as we all thought. Pain slices over her features and I feel like shit as she untangles herself from Jake. Her face tips upward, her eyes focusing on the tick of his jaw, but he’s too consumed by his anger toward me to notice. Her body deflates. Her small sad cough of laughter is lost in the sea of noise surrounding her. Her eyes close on a shake of her head and she excuses herself quietly, not waiting for any acknowledgment as she turns, and disappears into the thick crowd of the bar.
Jake watches her departure, no emotion playing on his features. "Got another set," he mumbles to no one in particular, downing the remainder of his drink before moving away.
"We should go." I pull at David's shirt, and he looks at me in disapproval, dusting my touch from his arm.
"It's Annabelle's birthday, Aubrey, leaving would be rude. I made an effort to come and socialize with your friends, don't throw it back in my face," he bristles, turning to face the group again.
I don't want to see my friend’s pity, their confusion at our exchange so I choose to watch Jake instead. From his position on the small stage, he can see the bar in its entirety, but as though no one else is here, his focus is on me. Our gaze anchors for a minute, maybe two, before he shakes his head and moves to the microphone.
"Something a little different now, ladies," he winks to the enthusiastic groupies at his feet. They scream and cheer, and I hate them on sight.
The tune starts up, and the purr of his voice is instant, hooking me in. The lyrics hit me immediately, piercing my heart, making my chin tremble. He avoids my eyes as he delivers blow after blow, using the lyrics of Mr. Big’s “To Be With You,” to further shatter my already broken heart. I could almost pretend it had nothing to do with me. Almost. But his avoidance is purposeful, angling his body away, shutting me out.
The melody quiets, his voice comes stronger and he moves his guitar strap around to house his instrument at his back. Both hands grasp the microphone and I try to brace for the climax, the top noted lyric as he finally turns to let me in. The entire bar falls away and it's just me. Standing alone, his voice cracking with meaning. The cords of his neck are thick and strained as he pleads with the use of song, his voice violent, as he scores along certain clusters of words, his band repeating the chorus softly behind him. The last line is repeated softly and he holds my eyes to the very end. Until the music fades and reality comes crashing down on top of me. The voices in the bar echo and applaud and I swipe away the stray tears I can taste on my lips.
"Well, that was awkward," David states uncomfortably, and I turn to face him unsure, worried that for the first time in our relationship he was observant enough to notice.
"Huh?" Annabelle questions, looking to everyone for clarification on David's comment, whose eyes dart between her and Archer.
"He thinks Jake was singing to you, Belle, baby," Archer explains, eyes to me.
Annabelle laughs loudly, turning into Archer unsuccessfully to hide her amusement.
"Excuse me," I mumble to nobody before disappearing amongst the cluster of people filling The Shallow.
My fist taps lightly against the wood of the office door, and it flies open almost immediately, a heavy breathing Jake towering over me. Grabbing my arm, he yanks me through the doorway, slamming the door behind him.
"How could you bring him here? Knowing I'd be here. Why do that to me, Aubrey?" he chokes out, removing his baseball cap to drag his hands through his dampened hair before placing it back on his head.
“Tammy?” I challenge. “Really, Jake, back to your ex?”
“What? I'm just supposed to wait around for you to decide when it’s convenient to fuck?”
I recoil at his words, hurt that he would dismiss what we shared so scornfully. “I guess you don’t have to wait anymore, I’m sure Tammy and her perfect little self is happy to bounce chirpily on your cock whenever you like.”
He laughs sourly, his hand rubbing along his jaw. “You can talk, did you let him fuck you while I was?”
The bile in my throat makes for a bitter taste in my mouth, and I grimace at the feeling. I have zero right to guilt him on this. I have absolutely no logical reason why I could resent him for trying to move on, but I guess that’s one of the many things wrong with me. Nothing about what we’ve shared is reasonable or justifiable. Doesn’t mean my mind is going to accept rationality.
"I'm sorry, okay? I wasn't expecting him to come. I told him I was heading to Carnation for the weekend and he announced he was going to come. What was I supposed to do?" I cry, moving forward.
Leaning his back against the door his eyes drag over my body, the blue of his eyes greying with the approval in his gaze. "Tell him no. What I'm always asking you to do, Strawb’ries. Tell him, fucking, no.” He stretches an arm out to tuck a stray hair behind my ear, lingering, opening his palm along my jaw. I drop my head into his open hand, turning to kiss his palm.
"J-Baby, we've been through this," I breathe through my nose, savoring his touch.
Using his free hand, he grabs my arm, pulling me towards him and I go without hesitation. I stroke my hands up his chest, only stopping when my hands rest at the base of his neck. Jake's hands skate along my body, moving to my back and down into the waistband of my jeans, settling on my naked ass. Neck tipped up to keep his eyes, we stand, anchored on the spot, grateful for the chance to touch. To be in one another's presence, unconcerned with curious eyes. I wink up at him and he growls deep in his throat before his head tips down and his mouth connects to mine. Our kiss is nothing but desperate, his hands squeezing my ass tightly, pulling me further into his body. My hands move to the nape of his neck, holding him to me. His tongue strokes into my mouth and he tastes like tequila.
My moan of relief, at our touch, at our intimacy, is muted by our kiss, but he feels it. It pushes his desperation higher, the need in our kiss almost violent, greater than desperate as we claw our way closer.
A loud, repetitive bang at Jake's back causes us to part in shock, both breathing heavy. Our inability to not touch each other is dangerous and I watch a myriad of emotions race through the dark shade of grey his eyes have turned. My lipstick decorates his mouth, the red stain giving away our guilt and I imagine I look much the same.
"Kid, open the door," the gravel of Archer's voice hits again at the same time his fist bounces off the door.
My eyes turn into saucers as Jake holds his index finger to his lips. Archer's impatience grows as his banging comes louder. "Red, I know you're in there too. Open the fucking door," he yells through the wood.
My eyes dart from the door to Jake, still wide with shock, panic settling in my stomach. Jake's posture turns to defeat as he reaches for the door. "You alone?" he calls out and Archer grunts his acknowledgment.
The lock has barely clicked out of place as Archer barges through, Jake and I jumping back to avoid collision. Archer's irritated stare hits me first before flicking to Jake. "Fuck’s sake," he grits out, hands running through his dark hair. Must be a family trait, one of only few they share. "What the fuck are you two playing at?" he asks exasperated, moving to lock the door behind him, stopping any further unwelcome guests.
"All due respect, Archer, this has nothin' to do with you," Jake answers, moving in front of me in a defensive gesture.
"Kid, whatever, this, is," he motions between the two of us, " it ain't fuckin' healthy. Aubrey's got a man, Jake and what the fuck are you doin’ with Tammy?" he finishes quietly, tone gentle.
My eyes close instinctively behind Jake. I feel ashamed. "We're working through it," Jake argues, anger bristling and I put my palm to his back to relax him.
"Doesn't look that way, Jake. Looks like the two of you are fooling around. In secret," he emphasizes his point. "When Red's man is in the same fucking building," he finishes, pinning me with his glare.
"Told you, Archer, we're working it out," Jake speaks through clenched teeth, hands forming fists at his sides.
"About to leave your man, Aubrey?" Archer focuses on me, ignoring his brother.
Dropping my head, I struggle to form words. “I…. Yes.. I mean, no…”
"Tell him, Strawb'ries. Tell him you want me. Tell him you're gonna end it with David," Jake begs, using a finger to lift my chin.
His eyes show a desperation that slices into my heart and tears burn my eyes. "J-Baby," I whisper.
"Tell him, Aubrey," his voice raises, causing my body to tense and eyes close.
"Jake," Archer warns.
"FUCKING TELL HIM," Jake yells, and my body begins to shake.
My chin wobbles and I swallow the cry in my throat. “It’s complicated, Jake.”
He shakes his head vigorously. “Not to me it’s not. It’s as fucking simple as breathing. Loving you is that simple, to me.”
I blink away the big, fat ugly tears filling my eyes. “It’s not that easy, Jake. It’s not so cut and dry.”
"Kid," Archer speaks quietly, and I watch Jake's eyes dart between us, panic building in his posture, his hands reaching to the back of his neck as he cracks it side to side.
"Tell him you love me. Tell him it's me, Aubrey," he begs softly, deep blue eyes wide and shining.
"Red, go clean yourself up and go back to Annabelle," Archer instructs, and I obey immediately, moving to escape the heartbreak weighing on me.
"Strawb'ries," Jake halts my exit, his voice catching on the word and I stop moving, hand at the door. I can’t look at him, can’t stomach to watch his heart break any further, so I give him my back.
"I can make you happy, baby, give you the life you deserve. Choose me,” he pleads, and a strangled sob breaks from my throat as I rip open the door and move as fast as I can.
I fly into the bathroom, lock myself in a stall and cry. Loudly. Struggling to catch my breath, the pain in my heart is excruciating. If anyone hears my breakdown they don't comment, and I'm left alone to grieve. I feel like I'm having a heart attack, the pain surrounding my lifeline constricting as I hyperventilate. The look on Jake's face burns my eyes, and I work my hardest to rid it from my memory. It's an impossible task. I know in the deep depths of my soul that the look in his eyes, the heartbreak and desperation on his features will haunt me for the rest of my life. I should welcome it, should be thankful that I can hold onto something of him forever. Heartbreak is what I deserve, I just wish it wasn't his.
I must be gone at least an hour, trying to get a handle on myself. I'm grateful for Archer in that moment, not that I deserve his help, but he has to be the reason Annabelle or Darci haven't come looking for me. I'm not self-absorbed to think it’s about me, I know his reasons would be to protect Jake, but I'm thankful all the same.
Walking from my stall, I grimace at the appearance staring back at me in the mirror. Mascara streaks thickly under my eyes, pale skin red and blotchy, red lipstick smudged and stained into my skin. Jesus. I'm a mess and not just relatively speaking. My inner turmoil clearly outweighs my physical appearance. I take more time cleaning myself up; attempting to look half presentable to my friends, allowing myself to pretend that I haven’t all but died.
Jake's glued to the bar as I exit the bathroom, Tammy working to edge around him as he crowds her space. Her arms are held up in clear indication she doesn’t want him to touch her, her head shaking as he stumbles drunkenly toward her. She steadies his balance, hands resting on his biceps as she shakes her head, her face broken down with sadness before she walks away from him. He doesn't look to her again, his focus setting firmly on the line of shots waiting for him on the bar. I watch him tip them back in quick succession, barely pausing for a breath and I want to cry all over again. I did this to him. Me. Cold, heartless me.
I grab David's attention back at the table, signaling my want to leave, but he only ignores me, returning to his conversation without a pause. "Annabelle, babe, I'm gonna go. I don't…."
"No!" she pleads. "It’s my birthday, you can't go."
"Belle, baby, Aubrey wants to go. Let her," Archer urges, observant eyes taking me in.
"Aubs, I never see you. Please stay. For me," she pouts, wide bottom lip pushed out in an exaggerated frown. Forcing a smile, I nod my agreement, looking regretfully to Archer, whose focus has moved to his brother, still fixed along the bar.
My night continues to deteriorate. David ignores me, Jake drowns himself in an endless supply of tequila, and the falseness of my smile begins to ache my face. My saving grace is that Annabelle is too drunk to notice, to read the heartbreak in my eyes and the charade I'm barely managing to hold onto.
The pounding on a microphone pulls everyone's attention as the music stops abruptly. "Helllllooooo," Jake slurs, swaying on his feet, beer clasped tightly in hand.
"Fuck me," Archer sighs loudly, eyes darting to me and back again.
"Thought I'd," he hiccups before continuing, "sing once more."
He stumbles backward slightly, talking to the band before tripping back to the mic. Music rings out across the bar as the band picks up the melody and Annabelle squeals loudly, clapping her hands. "He's singing Bieber for me," she smiles wide.
It takes three lines for me to realize the song is once again aimed at me. Though it’s not like before. Mr. Big was a serenade. This time his voice is as bitter as he makes the words. It takes another few seconds before he looks at me directly, the smile he shares, as hostile and resentful as the lyric. He tells me his mom hates me and my chin trembles unintentionally. My eyes seek out Janie and her face is broken watching her youngest son unravel. This isn't new to her, she's watched Archer self-destruct time and time again but not Jake. Never Jake. He’s always been easy; strong and determined to fight through the shit life has thrown their way. So I don't doubt the truth in the song, I know in my heart Janie's hate would be real. I know it would be hard-wired and directed solely at me.
I drag my attention back to the stage but Jake's no longer standing upon it. His voice is still clouding the room and it takes me only a second to locate him on the floor, surrounded by women. Dancing with him. On him. His dimple on show as he smiles and touches them. His eyes flick to me on occasion as he moves closer, making certain I don't misjudge his intention. But that would be impossible. His path is obvious, edging closer with each beat until he stands directly in front of me, eyes driving into my own. Archer grabs his shoulder attempting to stop this unfolding further but Jake sh
akes it off, keeping his ground. The song drifts into nothing but quiet as he tells me I have nothing inside but the love I have for myself. It's venomous and hateful, emotions radiating from his red-rimmed eyes. My breath stutters in my throat as tears track my cheeks.
Archer touches his shoulder again, and Jake looks at me with such distaste before glaring at his older brother. "Fuck off," he spits before shoving his way through the crowd.
Dabbing at my eyes with the side of my thumb I chance a look at Annabelle and know immediately I'm caught. "Annabelle," I whisper and she shakes her head, the look of disgust on her face mirroring Jake's.
"Save it, nothing could justify your actions. Take David, go home and stay the fuck away from Jake," she yells before turning and moving after her closest friend.
Archer looks at me sympathetically. "She's been blindsided, she'll come around, just give her time," he offers off-handedly before following his wife.
I don't look to anyone else, grabbing my clutch and rushing into the cool air, trying to catch my breath. My throat closes over and I struggle to breathe.
"Deep breaths, Red," Luca startles me and he catches my shoulder as I stumble back. He demonstrates his instruction and his big body inhales deeply before relaxing on an exhale. I follow his movements and begin to calm down, oxygen finally reaching my lungs.
"Thank you," I choke out.
He ignores my gratitude. "Don't want to pull you down any further than you already are but Jake's a good friend, and I don't like seeing him hurt." Motioning for me to begin walking, I fall into step beside him. "Jake'll regret what he did tonight. You and I both know that's not him," he declares, and I nod softly in agreement. "He'll reach out, try and fix it. Make it right." His feet stop abruptly, and he turns toward me. “Cut him loose, Red.”
