A.K.A.

by TL Alexander

  I sit up. “Suzette, I’m so sorry. I…”

  She folds her arms over her chest, waiting for me to continue.

  I don’t know what to say to her, so I say nothing.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’m not even worth fighting for,” she says, turns on her heel, and walks toward the bathroom.

  “Suzette. I’m—”

  She slams the door causing a painting to fall off the wall.

  “Hell.” I cowardly wait for the shower to turn on. Once it does, I pull on my boxers, walk toward the painting, and bend down to pick it up. As I’m scanning it for damage, I notice an envelope under the dresser. I reach under, pull it out, and look it over. It’s addressed to me with no return. I look at the postmark. “Miami Florida, March 15,” I say out loud. Today is the first of May.

  I place the envelope on the dresser and rehang the painting. Then I remove a T-shirt and jeans from the dresser and put them on.

  After grabbing the letter and walking out the French doors, I stand barefooted on the bricked patio. The temperate bricks warm my feet as I trace my handwritten name.

  The letter’s a Pandora’s Box. Opening it will wreak havoc on my already fragile psyche and heart. But not opening it would wreak havoc on my soul.

  I walk toward the pool, sit on the edge of a rattan lounger, and look out at the trees that surround the estate. I wonder what Mary sees that I don’t. Maybe she doesn’t see anything; maybe she’s wishing to see something or someone. There is no wondering what I’m looking or wishing for. And I know looking out at the trees isn’t going to change it or make it disappear or appear. There seems to be nothing I can do to ease what I have done, or to untangle myself from her net.

  My hands tremble like a leaf as I turn the envelope over and break the seal. I inhale as I remove the contents. Then I slowly exhale as I unfold the three sheets of paper and begin to read.

  The brain is an amazing thing. When a part of it shuts down or disconnects, another takes over. But the heart…

  I close my eyes and letters scatter about before lining up and forming your name—Drake Hudson.

  I open my mouth and the letters float over my tongue before brushing over my lips. It feels odd and sounds foreign as I say it over and over, Drake Hudson, Drake Hudson. I do this hoping that if I say it out loud, I’ll find clarity.

  But the clarity never comes, just like the answers to all my questions will never come. It’s futile and silly, I admit. But I can’t help myself. I can’t stop the torture. I can’t stop the self-inflicted destruction and stabbing pain saying your name causes.

  How many days, weeks, months have you been waiting for this letter, I wonder? I know you, Drake. Your name might be foreign to me, but you are not. You’re reading my words and telling yourself you haven’t been waiting; you haven’t been dreading. You’re telling yourself to stop reading and shred my words, burn them, and bury the ashes, or better yet, toss them to the wind.

  You’re holding your breath at this moment, aren’t you? Like you always do when you’re overwhelmed. Like you always did right before you came inside me. Like you did before the first time you said the words, I love you.

  Let it out.

  Breathe.

  Breathe.

  Better?

  You never gave me a chance to explain. I wanted to tell you the truth, but you ran. I thought maybe your feet had gotten cold, or you somehow learned of my deceit. I searched for you, but I couldn’t find you. You disappeared into thin fucking air.

  Everyone was telling me you must have played a part, why else would you run and disappear. But I didn’t believe them. I refused to believe them. Even when I saw the truth with my own eyes and heard it with my own ears, I still refused. I told myself it wasn’t possible, not you. Not the man whose flesh and blood invaded every cell of my being. Not the man I’d given what remained of my heart. Not the man I let touch the part of me that had been hidden for so long, I didn’t even know it existed.

  Maybe it was the shock of it all, or maybe my fragile mind couldn’t take on the extra burden of my new reality. I guess whatever pushed me over the edge isn’t important; it was the fact that I didn’t see it coming that made it so tragic. It slithered in on the back of a morning fog. So silent and clandestine, it was over before I knew it had even begun.

  I wandered through the haze, my mind muddled, my world distorted. I was in a place where time and reality didn’t exist. It felt like hours when it had been days. It felt like days when it had been months.

  I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t sad. I was comfortably numb in a cocoon of my mind’s making. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay in this safe haven. I wanted to die there.

  But like all good things, it had to end. I had responsibilities and duties that I couldn’t untangle myself from. I had a heartstring I couldn’t cut with the sharpest of scissors, or sever with the pointiest of knives. And I had the unfathomable betrayal of a man that kept pushing me to the surface, beckoning me to sail on.

  You fooled me, Drake. Who would have guessed it was the deceiver being deceived? Who would have thought there was a revengeful soul hiding behind those bottomless blues? Not I. I knew you weren’t perfect and you had secrets, but I never…

  Vengeance. Payback. Retribution. Label it what you want. Believe what you must. But see it for what it is. It isn’t real. It isn’t truth. It’s an empty promise you made to yourself and to your father. Its gratification didn’t last long enough to wipe your tears. It fled before the blood on your hands could dry. It’s pointless. It’s nothing. Yet, it’s… everything.

  We play this “blame game” at all costs. We play it even when we know just before we reach the finish line; we could be sent back to the beginning, to the start. So why do we continue to play a game we can’t win? It’s human nature, I suppose. It’s like playing the lottery. We play even though the odds of winning are minuscule. We play because there’s the one chance in hell we’ll be that lucky “one” in a billion.

  So tell me, where do I go from here? Do I play the game even when the odds are against me? Even when I know revenge’s sweetness will last but just a moment. Even when I know my lie of a life can never be restored. Yes, Drake, I will play the game. I will play because your betrayal is a cancer with no remission or cure. I will play because I have nothing to lose and everything to win. I will play because I know the power I have over you.

  Deny it.

  Dispute it.

  Own it.

  This is the beginning, Drake, the start of our game. No, you can’t sit it out. You can’t stop it or wish it away. Are you ready?

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Go.

  Close your eyes. Do you see me? Do you see the concrete and steel that surrounds me? Look up and see the water spot on the ceiling. Yes, that’s it, just above my head. It never gets smaller or bigger, it’s just there and… oddly comforting. Look to your left. Yes, right there. That’s a rectangle they call a window. As small as it is, I’m grateful for it. There have been times that it was my only indicator of the passing of day to night.

  Being imprisoned within a gray nothingness, the silence of night, the noise of day, the ugliness of humans wasting away, overwhelms me at times. But I find comfort knowing I’m not alone, am I? No walls surround you, but you’re trapped, just as I am.

  I close my eyes, and I see you, Drake. I see the disappointment in those blue eyes. You thought things would be different, didn’t you? You thought the ways of your deeds would outweigh the ways of your betrayal.

  You’re CEO of Caldwell International. Wow! Your father must be so proud. His long-lost son has come home. He’s proven his worth, and now his wallet is thick, yet his heart is heavy, isn’t it?

  You’re married now. Did so, I understand, during my trial. What was it? A distraction, an affirmation of worth, or a declaration of your independence? Or do you choose “D” all of the above? It doesn’t matter, does it? Marriage to a woman you don
’t love doesn’t make things better; it makes them worse.

  She doesn’t know, does she? She doesn’t know how far you were willing to go to seal the deal, to get your just desserts.

  Poor darling Suzette. Yes, I know her name. How you’ve lied to her and continue to do so. What are the lies you spout when you’re inside her? Do you tell her how good her pussy feels around your throbbing cock? I don’t think so. You close your mouth and your eyes. You pretend it’s my cunt you’re sliding into, squeezing you tight. You imagine it’s my lips and my mouth sucking you dry. It’s my ass you want to fuck. It’s my hand you imagine jerking you off in the shower.

  Inhale.

  Exhale.

  Breathe.

  You’re hard right now. Your cock is throbbing against the rivets on your jeans. Your mouth is dry. Your—

  “Drake!”

  I jump and the sheets of paper fall from my hands.

  “Sorry,” she says as she makes her way toward me. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  I grab the sheets and the envelope and stuff them in my back pocket.

  “What’s that?”

  “Nothing, just some work stuff.”

  She frowns as she tosses a towel on the lounger beside mine.

  “Suzette, about earlier... you’re right—”

  She dives into the pool. She surfaces and looks my way. “You should join me. The water’s cool. It might help with that massive hard-on you’re sporting.”

  Hell.

  “Must have been some letter.”

  “It’s work, that’s all.”

  “It looks like I have company this morning,” Mary says as she sits on the other side of me.

  I grab Suzette towel and cover my quickly deflating hard-on. “Mary… I—when did you get back?”

  She ignores me and looks toward the pool. “Suzette, how are you?”

  Suzette swims to the side of the pool. “I’m fine. It’s good to have you home. When did you get back?”

  “Late last night.”

  “How was your trip?” I ask.

  “Good.”

  “Did you hear about my offer?” Suzette asks her.

  “I did. Sounds like fun.”

  “What offer?” I ask.

  “It does, but three months is a long time to be away,” Suzette says.

  “Away?” I ask.

  Mary stands. “You might as well. I know Drake will be busy with hotel renovations.”

  “I—”

  Mary covertly steps on my foot before she dives into the pool. She surfaces and swims toward Suzette.

  “What renovations?” Suzette asks.

  Mary raises a brow my way.

  “London, Paris, and—”

  “Too many to remember, apparently,” Mary says.

  “What offer?” I ask Suzette.

  “Mary’s friend Lauren Duncan is going on a three-month cruise. She asked me to join her.”

  “That’s… great. I didn’t even know you knew her.”

  “She’s been teaching me how to golf.”

  “She has?”

  She scowls as she shakes her head.

  “Isn’t it kind of, I don’t know, early in your relationship to be asking you on a cruise?” I ask.

  “She had planned to take her granddaughter, Julie.”

  “And Julie up and got herself pregnant,” Mary finishes for her.

  I’ve been traveling and busy at the office, but you’d think I would know my wife is learning to play golf and planning a three-month cruise. But the truly sad part, I don’t care.

  I can’t help but wonder if Mary is behind this. And if so, why?

  “Drake?”

  “What?”

  Suzette’s scowl kicks up a notch. “Like I said, he wouldn’t even know I was gone.”

  “That’s not true.”

  Mary swims away and begins her laps. Leaving me on my own.

  Suzette gets out of the pool.

  I toss her the towel.

  She catches it, wraps it around her, and sits.

  “Are you sure you want to go on a three-month cruise with a woman you’ve only known for weeks?”

  “I’m not sure about anything these days.”

  She isn’t alone.

  “Drake, you know I love you.”

  I nod.

  “But, I’m not sure if you feel the same.”

  “Suzette, I—”

  She holds up her hand. “Let me finish.”

  “Okay.”

  “I put my life on hold for you, Drake.”

  “I know you did.”

  “I’m still putting it on hold for you.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

  “I’m sorry too.”

  “So, what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that now it’s my turn to take the time and space to think about what I want.”

  “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

  “It is.”

  I don’t want her to go, but I don’t want her to stay. I know how crazy and selfish this is. I just don’t want to accept it.

  “When do you leave?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Why so soon?”

  “Because the cruise launches in three days. Lauren will pick me up tomorrow. We’ll fly to Spain and catch our ship after a day of rest.”

  “It just seems, I don’t know, rushed.”

  “It is a little, I’ll admit that. I could have told you when she asked me a couple of days ago, but I didn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to talk me out of it.”

  “You’re right, I would have tried. And it would have been for selfish reasons. I’m sorry, Suzette, for whatever that’s worth.”

  “I know you are, Drake. I think we were naïve to believe everything could return to the way it was before. I know you tried to spare me the details of what really went down in Oregon. But you didn’t have to. I knew within minutes of your return that you were no longer the man I once knew. I think a part of you will forever be Ethan Black. And apart of you will forever be hers.”

  I know she’s right. But I still can’t say it out loud, not even to myself.

  She stands. “I’m going to start packing.”

  I nod.

  She starts to walk away and I grab her hand. “Please know it’s something I can’t control.”

  She half smiles as she squeezes my hand. “That ‘something’ is called love, Drake. Love isn’t something that should be controlled. It should be set free.”

  I let go of her hand and watch as she walks to the French doors and disappears.

  Mary swims to the edge of the pool and climbs up the ladder. I watch as she walks to her lounger and picks up her towel. “Suzette gone already?”

  “Don’t act as if this wasn’t your doing.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I roll my eyes as she slides on her robe and sits next to me.

  “Okay, it was my doing.”

  “Why?”

  “I like Suzette, and I think she deserves better.”

  “Than me?”

  “You don’t love her, Drake. So, don’t make me out to be the bad guy.”

  “How would you know who I love or don’t love?”

  She sighs heavily as she leans back on her lounger. “We’re playing a dangerous game, Drake. Suzette is an innocent, and I don’t want her hurt any more than she’s already been.”

  “You’re the one playing this game. I don’t want to play your game or her game.”

  “Her game?”

  “Never mind.”

  “You have no choice. You’re in this, like it or not.”

  “Why can’t you just tell me what I should know?”

  “That’s not how the game is played.”

  “You’re the second most stubborn woman I’ve even known.”

  “Who’s the first most stubborn woman you know?”

  “No one you know.”


  “I bet it’s the same woman whose game you don’t want to play.”

  “Whatever.”

  She looks toward my backside. “You finally read her letter.”

  “When—how—why did you put it under the dresser?”

  “I didn’t. I put it on top of it.”

  “I found it under it.”

  “It must have fallen.”

  “Must have.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Then let’s start today’s game.”

  I sigh heavily.

  “What did you discover this week?”

  I shake my head. “No way. You first. You told me you’d tell me where you went this week, when you got back.”

  “I will when I can.”

  I know fighting her is futile. Why I continue to do so, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just as crazy as she is.

  “Room 109, Drake. What did you find there?”

  “You know what I found there.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I found the secret panel.”

  “And what was behind it.”

  “Some kind of computer.”

  “What else?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Come on, Drake. You’re acting like an impertinent child.”

  “Fine. The computer was hooked up to cameras and recording devices.”

  “What do you think they’re used for?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the manager is into kink. Maybe he likes to watch.”

  “Seriously?”

  I nod.

  “What city were you—?”

  “You know what city I was in,” I snap.

  “Why would someone in DC hide cameras in a hotel room?”

  “Blackmail?”

  “Bingo.”

  “But who would do that? And why in one of our—your hotels.”

  “You’ll find out soon. How was Terrance?”

  “How did—?”

  “He’s not the only one who has a helper pawn.”

  “Helper pawn,” I say and laugh.

  “Why do you find that funny?”

  “You and James are really into this game.”

  “Okay, I’ll admit we’re having some fun. I’ve enjoyed the…”