Quiet Lies

by R. L. Griffin

  “Don’t,” she whispers.

  I don’t like people touching me when I’m sick either. “Do you want me to run back and get my car to come get you? Take you to the ER?”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can’t what?” I ask, concerned.

  “I…”

  She stands up and pain is evident on her face.

  “Um,” she looks away from me.

  “What is it? What hurts? Do you think you have food poisoning?”

  “I saw Sebastian today.”

  Her words catch me off guard. We don’t talk about him. I’ve told her I’m unhappy.

  “He hit on me.”

  “He what?” I gasp.

  She nods.

  We stare at each other. So many warring emotions go through my mind. I’m pregnant and she’s my friend. I’m trying to anticipate why he would do that to her, to me.

  “I turned him down Rebecca, I would never…”

  “I know,” I blurt.

  “But…”

  “But what?” I ask, but I don’t really want to know. I don’t want to go where we’re going to have to go in our friendship, me being mortified and her being judgmental. This was his intention, to cut off my only friend. This is what he does.

  “He told me that he’d kill you if I told you.”

  I blink. Why would he do that?

  “Then he’d kill me,” she continues.

  I look at my shoes.

  “Rebecca you have to leave. I believe him.”

  I nod, knowing that I won’t.

  “I can help you.”

  I rub my hands down my running tights.

  “You can move in with me.”

  I pull my fleece up around my neck. “But I have nothing,” my voice is small, invisible, just like I’ve felt for so long.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean he’s taken everything from me.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I know you don’t.”

  “Tell me,” she urges.

  I blink at her.

  “It’s okay,” she consoles.

  I tilt my head to the side knowing it really isn’t okay.

  “You’ll be safe with me.”

  I run my hands over my ponytail. “I’m not safe. I haven’t been safe in years. I’ll never be safe again.” Then I turn and run.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Give and Take

  Some days are better than others. There are days when I go about my day in a haze of faux normalcy. An oasis of what I want to believe is there stretches out in front of me. My life is relatively normal. Weeks of dishes, laundry and cooking eat up months of my years. Then there are days that blow in and knock me to my knees. Blood coming from my skin makes me feel alive.

  Our relationship started with fabrications, by both of us. I cannot tell you why I spoke the lie that rolled off my tongue. I willed it to be true to wipe away the pain that changed me forever. I didn’t want to admit my body wouldn’t work as a woman. I turned my high school relationship into something that could be easily forgotten. Even now I remember the rain that covered me as I mourned the loss of her…of myself. I found soon after that men and women deal with things very differently. When I bled out my baby the guilt and remorse almost ripped me into shreds.

  I was so young. My guilt stemmed from the fact I believed I lost her because of something I might have done. This guilt caused me to turn inward, my high school sweetheart dealt with his…I’m not really sure what his emotion was after what happened…in a way that I will never forget or forgive.

  A schism started that day and grew with every falsehood I created, my deception turning me into two different people.

  I smooth the skirt of my formal dress and pull up the strapless top in one motion. Jessica comes to stand behind me and looks over my shoulder.

  “He’s going to die,” she comments, smiling.

  I am the picture of his dream girl, I know that because he’s told me a number of times how much I look like this actress he thinks is super hot, if only I would dye my hair blond. So I did.

  I don’t like it.

  Every once in a while I agonize over the carefree, naïve girl I left in the lowcountry when I left for college. This hair, this dress is like armor. Armor against a guy I want to love me, but I second guess if it’s even possible for anyone to ever really love me. There sits in my heart an unexplained need to be loved. I thought I had met the love of my life when I was fourteen, but it was a trick played on me in the worst way and I know that Sebastian will fix me. I need him to fix me.

  “You think?”

  “Um, you’re like every guy’s wet dream in that push up bra with your blonde hair.”

  “That’s gross,” I scoff.

  “Are you sure he’s it?” Jessica’s eyes cloud with concern.

  “Yes.” I inhale air willing it to give me the resolve I need for this night. This is the night. A night that will be perfect and I will let Sebastian see every part of me, he will split me open and I’ll never come back. I will be his.

  “Okay. Here.” She puts two condoms in my hands. “Don’t let him talk you into not using these.”

  I stick my hip out and glare at her.

  “I’m serious. Be smart Rebecca.”

  I take them and put them in my bag. I inventory my preparations. I’ve shaved every hair off my body, every one that is not on my face. I’ve never done that before, it’s a weird sensation in my dress because I’m not wearing underwear. Who needs underwear? The panty lines in the dress would be distracting.

  A knock sounds on the dorm room door and a spike of fear that mixes with anticipation and runs over my body.

  Jessica opens the door and pulls it back.

  Sebastian Pryor…the sight of him pulls me in, makes my mouth water and twists my stomach. His black wavy hair is brushed off his face, which is in direct contrast from his usual lackadaisical approach to grooming. The dimple in his cheek taunts me. He devours me with his eyes. “Jessica,” he says, his eyes stay on me as he stalks over to me.

  I wait, my breath caught in my throat. His lips caress my neck, it fills my mind with desire and I clench my thighs. He smiles knowingly. He hands me a dozen red roses in a vase. “You look fucking gorgeous.”

  “Thank you.” I smooth my hand over my hair.

  “You look like my wife,” he whispers in my ear without any humor.

  Terror and jubilation collide in my mind. I smile. We’ve been dating for six months. I’ve made him wait. He thinks I’m a virgin and that’s why he wants me.

  “When did you do this?” he asks, his fingers pulling on my tresses gently.

  “Does it matter?” I ask coyly.

  “No.” His voice is husky as he grabs my hand pulling me into his lean body. His muscles from playing baseball his entire life are long and they flex in our embrace.

  “We will no longer be attending a stupid formal,” he whispers in my hair.

  My eyes snap to his.

  “I believe I’d much rather be alone with you.” This time his voice is loud enough for Jessica to hear, her face is amused.

  My hand is in his and he’s dragging me across my dorm room. I’m waving at Jessica, giddy, and it’s only when I’m in the car with him, his hand is up the skirt of my dress before I realize that I left my bag in my room.

  The five minute ride to the hotel is torture and the car is filled with static. As soon as he parks, he rushes me out of the car. Clutching my hand, he practically drags me into an elevator. I assume he’s already checked in. He presses the button for the fifth floor before he pushes me against the wall and pierces me with his stare. I want him to put his mouth on me, but he doesn’t. The dinging bell shakes us from our sexual staring contest and we hustle down the corridor.

  When Sebastian pushes me against the hotel room door before we even enter I know I will not make a big deal about condoms. His kisses leave my lips swollen with need and lust. He finally gets the hot
el room door open and we fumble in a tangle of clothes coming off, hands caressing, heaving and breathing.

  “Oh fuck,” he murmurs as he unzips my dress. His fingertips trace my spine and goosebumps spread quickly across my back. His tongue starts at my tailbone and trails the path that his finger just took. I’m frozen with delirium and every other thought leaves my body. His hands touch every inch of my skin, he becomes very familiar with the apex of my thighs and I writhe beneath his mouth.

  “Oh God! Oh God!” I’m screaming and my hips are jerking and convulsing. I’ve lost all control of myself. I do not even realize that there are candles and rose petals and romance that he didn’t need.

  “Fuck,” he groans and I open everything to him. He takes it. He takes everything.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  House of Cards

  I picked Bash up from baseball this afternoon and his contempt for me is evident. As a mom I do everything. I pack his lunch because he doesn’t like school lunch. I make sure he is at practice for all four sports he plays over the year. I oversee his homework. I buy clothes, presents for his friends’ birthdays and make sure he has everything he needs. Sebastian shows up and plays a video game with him and it’s like he hung the fucking moon. Sebastian can do no wrong in Bash’s eyes. It’s frustrating and demeaning and it makes me want to quit doing anything for Bash, but I know I can’t because I’m a mom. Moms do everything, give everything for their kid, I know I have. I’d like to think that if it wasn’t for Bash I’d be somewhere else, someone else.

  I sigh as I cut vegetables to roast for dinner, Sebastian will be late again tonight. I check the Find My iPhone app and see he’s enjoying himself quite nicely at the apartment. I put the filets on the griddle.

  “Mom!”

  I turn to look at the stairs where the yelling comes from. Bash hops down the stairs in his baseball pants and undershirt, he is starting to look just like his father. It makes my stomach turn.

  “Yeah babe?” I turn back to cut the last of the veggies.

  “So, I need to talk to you.” He throws his head to the right so his hair will be out of his face. He does this when he’s nervous.

  I pile the cauliflower, onion and carrots in the roasting pan and drizzle olive oil on them. “So talk.” My voice is light and I don’t turn to him, but continue to prepare dinner. I walk on eggshells with Bash lately, it seems being a teenager makes him not want to be in the same room as me. I always thought girls were supposed to be the assholes at this age.

  “Well…” His voice breaks with adolescence, full of hesitation.

  Something in his voice is off. I turn to examine him, worry hangs on his features. “What’s wrong?” I put everything down and walk over to the island where he’s sitting, his long legs dangle off the bar stools. I lean over and ruffle his hair and he lets me, this surprises me and concern fills my entire body. “You know you can tell me anything.” We’ve already had the sex talk so I’m not really scared of him asking questions, the hardest was already done.

  “I…” He looks down at his hands then slides his phone to me. There is a photo in a text message.

  I lift the phone gingerly from the counter making sure not to get water on it and quickly look back to Bash. He’s not looking at me. I scroll through the messages received and then stop at the picture again.

  “Who knows about this?” I ask.

  “Everyone.” His voice cracks.

  “Oh shit,” I mutter. The house of cards comes tumbling down.

  “Everyone knows and is making fun of me.”

  “I’m so sorry baby.” Will I continue to apologize for things that I have no control over? Things that were done to me as well? Things that people ignore happen to me? Things that changed me? I need to stop apologizing to everyone except myself. I made mistakes that put my mental well-being in jeopardy and I honestly don’t know if I can save myself.

  “You can leave you know,” he offers. His caramel eyes shine with unshed tears.

  I swallow a bubble of want that I’ve had for thirteen fucking years. I nod. Then something in me cracks open and emotions come tumbling out.

  “You wouldn’t hate me?” Relief surges in my chest.

  “No Mom, I wouldn’t hate you.”

  “We’d have to move.” Hope swims in my blood.

  “It’s fine.”

  “You can’t say anything.” Anticipation hums in my throat.

  He pretends like he zips his lips and throws away the key.

  I examine him carefully.

  “I can’t believe you’d be okay with us leaving.” I can’t believe it. He loves his father so much I can’t imagine him ever siding with me on anything.

  “I can’t stay here, he gave Bennett’s mom herpes.”

  Cards flying around the room turn into bricks and one hits me in the temple. I fall to the floor and stay there.

  Terror consumes me, but it’s not too late. Bash is six months old. I can do this. I followed Sebastian to an apartment that I discovered he rented in a different area of Portland. The woman is leaving and I pass her on the stairs. I bump my shoulder into hers and she looks at me with wide doe eyes.

  “I’m his wife,” I state.

  Her eyes get wider and she runs the rest of the way down the stairs. I beat on the door of the apartment.

  Sebastian answers in a towel. “Nikki, you forget something?” The question dies on his lips when he sees me.

  “Hey Sebastian, I saw your whore on my way up.”

  “Whore?” he questions.

  “The bitch you’ve been fucking while I’m raising your child.”

  His hands go up in surrender. “Wait babe, you have the wrong idea. I spilled wine all over my shirt and pants and had to clean up.”

  “Whose apartment is this?” I barge past him and look at the two glasses of wine.

  “It’s the company’s for business purposes,” he answers.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Where’s Bash?”

  “You don’t deserve to know where our child is.”

  His eyes change into something I’d never seen before. He pushes me up against a wall. “You will not use my son in this. This is between us.” His face is so close to mine spittle lands on my face.

  “I thought so too, until I realized you were lying and fucking other people.” He told me he wasn’t doing that anymore.

  “I’m not fucking other people,” he responds, indignant.

  “You are standing here in an apartment you rent wearing only a towel.” Tears are falling full force now, it pisses me off. I wipe them away because I’d told myself I wouldn’t do this. I wouldn’t let him see me cry.

  He leans in and wipes one of my tears away. “I promise you I didn’t fuck her.”

  His words chosen so carefully.

  “You are a liar.”

  “I only love you Rebecca. You are the love of my life.”

  “You ruined it. You ruin it every time. You can’t help yourself. You have to ruin everything,” I’m screaming and barely making sense. I planned what I would say, but with my life in shambles and decisions that I’m being forced to make in my mind, I can’t remember I was going to tell him he would never see his son again. I was going to tell him that I was the best thing he’ll ever have. I was the best thing he threw away. I was going to say so many things. I hate him. He sees it though, in my eyes. He knows I’m going to leave because he’s a smart mother fucker.

  My back is still against the wall and in the blink of an eye he’s got his hand on my throat cutting off my airway. I’m choking. He’s pushing into my throat so hard that my toes are leaving the hardwood floor and I think about the two-year old I left with one of our neighbors that I’ll never see again. I blink and see Sebastian raise Bash into a man that I would be ashamed of. My eyes bulge, the blood vessels burst in my eyes. I feel them. I’m coughing, then I’m not and there’s nothing except a vast darkness that closes around my vision like one of those old cartoons the
circle gets smaller and smaller until I see the last of Sebastian’s determined face.

  I’m shaking my head as I stare at the wooden beams of my ceiling. I heard Bash leave ten minutes ago. He didn’t really check on me, but made sure I was breathing. I guess he’s used to my “episodes.” Do you ever have moments in your life where you think how the fuck did I get here? To a life where I have to contemplate things like my husband cheating on me and then has such hubris about not getting caught he fucks one of his son’s friends’ mom? It’s a sickness that I cannot measure. It is a reality that people would not believe. It’s a life that I don’t want.

  I roll on my stomach and take a deep breath. I get on my knees and push myself up. I always get up, I might be on my knees, but I get up. I’ve had so many of these moments, where I think it can’t possibly get worse than this, that I cannot possibly withstand more in this life and yet here I am, again, hit from behind.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Beauty in Failure

  It may not seem like it, but I was petrified fourteen years ago and have been trying to move my frozen limbs since then. I make strides on some days and then I’m frozen for years in the life that lives me, I don’t live it. Bash’s door is closed. It’s after midnight and Sebastian still isn’t home. I open the door quietly and lean on the doorframe. My son is the best thing I’ve ever done. The faint light streaming from the moon I put on the wall when he was five and adored me washes over his face.

  I remember when he would hang on me telling me he loved me to the moon and infinity. He was into Buzz Lightyear at the time. It made everything worth it. Now these moments where I see a ghost of what he used to be, the love he used to have for me, I cling to them with both hands. I blanch when I hear the sound of a car driving up the gravel and then the beeping notifies me someone has passed the mid-point of the garage. I run my hands through my hair and try to pull myself together.

  I close the door soundlessly and pad to our room. Looking in the mirror I’m reminded of something I forgot once. The front door closes and I hurry out of my room and down the stairs.

  “Hey,” I greet as I make my way across the expansive great room.