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Portia Moore - He Lived Next Door

Page 17

by Unknown


  “It’s okay, man, we’ll figure it out.” He squeezes my shoulder.

  The rest of the night, Jax does a lot of figuring, and between that and the beer, I sort of feel hopeful, and I’m too buzzed to think it’s an illusion. We tumble into an Uber and choose my address, since it’s only a few blocks away. I offer him our guest room, but Jax insists on getting back to Tiffany. Since I’m the more sober of our duo, I input his address into his Uber app and tell him to enjoy the rest of his night.

  The ride up the elevator is long, and with each floor, I lose a little bit of hopefulness. I fight to hold on to it until the elevator door opens and I walk over to our apartment door. I turn the key, but before opening the door, I stop and rest my forehead on it as tears break out. I clench my fist and kick the wall beside our door. I take several breaths, trying to pull myself together before I go in.

  “I don’t know if anybody is listening. If you are, I’m not sure if you accept requests while intoxicated but…” I almost stop talking, realizing how ridiculous I’ll look if someone sees me. I’m not even sure what I’m really doing, but I know I’m desperate and I’m out of answers. If some old dude in the sky can help me, I don’t have anything to lose. “If you’re listening, please help me. Save my marriage. I’ve lost my son. Please don’t let me lose my wife.”

  I wipe away the tears I didn’t realize had fallen and gather myself together. The last thing I need is for Chassidy to see me like this. Maybe I should see a therapist. When you start muttering to yourself, it’s definitely a problem.

  Chassidy

  The knock on the door is like a pounding in my head. I don’t remember drinking that much, but I could be dehydrated after all of the crying I did. I get up and swing open the door, not realizing how terrible I look until I see Carter’s worried expression. I rake a hand through my hair and glance down. I breathe a sigh of relief that I’m not mistakenly flashing any body parts at him.

  “Hey.” His tone is soft and easy, as if I’ll crumble into a thousand pieces if he speaks too loudly.

  “Hi.” My own voice sounds cracked and raspy.

  He holds up my purse, and if my cheeks weren’t already stained red, they would be now as details of the disaster of last night pass through my thoughts. I cover my face in shame before taking back my items.

  “Thank you,” I mutter, heading into my apartment. I leave the door open, allowing him to decide if he should come in or not.

  After some hesitation, he comes in, quietly closing the door. I flop on the couch, feeling numb. He probably shouldn’t be here. He’s young and nice and too handsome to be in my messy world. He should be in some normal, sane girl’s bed, someone who doesn’t have a cheating husband and myriad of issues swirling around her.

  “I’m so sorry about yesterday. You didn’t get in trouble, did you?” I ask as he sits in the big sofa chair across from the couch I’m sitting on. The chair Bryce sits in when he’s home, when I used to climb onto his lap and feel like it was the best place in the world. I was sad last night; today I’m bitter and angry.

  “No, it’s not like glasses were thrown or tables flipped over, we’ve had way worse happen,” he says with a wink, but I find that hard to believe-it’s Maestro’s not Friday’s, but I appreciate him trying to make me feel better.

  I can’t fight the small smile on my face, but it doesn’t stay long. “I’m so embarrassed. I can’t believe that happened.”

  His smile softens, and he looks at his lap. “Do you really know what happened though?”

  A frown settles on my face. “Of course I know what happened. I saw him there with Kira, a girl we used to know. They were dressed like they were on a date and holding hands.” My tone is on the edge of sharp.

  He pauses as if waiting for me to continue, and when I don’t, he sighs. “But I’m just saying, if…” He glances at me from under his thick lashes. “If he had seen you and your agent the night I did, he could have assumed the same thing.” His tone is gentle, but his words are sharp and prickly to my ears.

  “It’s not the same thing at all!”

  “You didn’t really give him a chance to say anything to you,” he says.

  I scowl at him. “Don’t be one of those guys.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The type of guy who always sides with the guy whether he’s wrong or not. Please don’t be that guy.”

  “That’s not what I’m trying to be. I’m just saying that everything happened so fast and escalated so quickly that you really don’t know what it was. Just how your situation could have been misinterpreted…”

  “Nothing about my situation could have been misinterpreted. I was having a business dinner. Bryce is a pilot. There is absolutely no reason for him to have been there with her, dressed liked that, and holding her hand! He couldn’t stand her in college. She’s his best friend’s ex-girlfriend! I can’t believe he’d betray Jax like that, me like that!” I say, becoming angrier by the second.

  Carter just continues to sit there calmly, his eyes on his feet.

  “Bryce tells me everything,” I say, my voice finally draining of venom. “He used to, at least. We used to tell each other everything but now…”

  But I didn’t tell him about Davien. He doesn’t know about the new book I’m writing, and I have no clue what’s going on his life. How long has it been since we went out to dinner with one another at our favorite restaurant?

  “He didn’t come after me. If it was a big misunderstanding, if I somehow had things completely wrong, why didn’t he come after me?” I ask, needing to feel vindicated, needing the guilt climbing up my body to be shaken off. “If he had seen Davien and me at dinner and freaked, I wouldn’t have let him leave thinking it was something that it wasn’t. Why didn’t he?”

  Carter looks at a loss.

  “We had dinner at his best friend’s house a few weeks ago and I had… an episode. I didn’t act in a way I probably should have, and you know what he did? He let me leave. No, he sent me away without even letting me know he wasn’t coming home. Those aren’t the actions of a man who’s in love with his wife. That’s a man who wants his wife as far away as possible so he could be with his mistress!” I shout, and soon after, I realize I’m punishing Carter for something he has no part in. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be discussing this with you, let alone scolding you about it.”

  “It’s okay,” he says with a smile that makes me want to smack myself for being such a complete witch.

  “All you’ve done since I’ve met you is be nice to me, and all I’ve done since you’ve met me is load my issues onto you.”

  “Well, it’s only fair since I loaded you down with a box when we first met,” he jokes.

  “I promise from this day forward, no more Lifetime drama from me. I’m going to be like a football game, sports 24/7, you know the channel I’m talking about?”

  “ESPN?”

  “Yup, I’m going to be fun like ESPN. Down with Lifetime!” I say, giving a fist pump.

  “Hey, Lifetime isn’t that bad,” he says with a wry grin.

  “When are you free again? I want to take you to eat. A disaster-free late lunch, somewhere fun and not stuffy. Like Hooters! Or Dave & Busters,” I say excitedly. That’s where carefree people go, people who don’t have to worry about whether their life is falling apart or completely shifting in a way they never thought it would. It’d be a day I don’t have to be me, not this me. I could be who I was before—no stress, just food, alcohol and fun.

  He laughs, his gaze intensely focused on me but his smile easy. But it makes me nervous when he does that. His stare makes me feel as if he can read my thoughts, that he not only knows my problems but, wants to solve them for me.

  “Okay, but only under one condition,” he says, looking away, and I nod. “You have to come somewhere with me first.”

  I feel my brows knit, but without hesitation, I say, “Okay.” I don’t know why I trust Carter, but in the short time we’ve known one another
, he’s been nothing but kind to me.

  “Cool, how about tomorrow?”

  I nod. “Nothing on my schedule right now.” I stand after he does, and I follow him to the door. “Hey, I sort of forgot to ask with all of the drama yesterday, but how did you like Nicole?” I’m almost on pins and needles.

  He lets out a breath that’s a combination of a laugh and sigh. “I don’t think I’m necessarily what she’s looking for right now.” He grins, and so do I.

  “I think she’d doubt that highly.”

  He laughs loudly and rakes his hand through his locks before opening the door. “I can almost guarantee it.”

  “What are you looking for?” I ask him teasingly.

  He smiles as if he has a secret he’s on the verge of telling me. “I'll let you know when I find out.”

  On Wednesday, Carter ended up having to work a double and asked if lunch could change to dinner and asked me to meet him at our secret destination at five. The address is only about a ten-minute walk from our building. It’s a little gloomy out, but for Chicago, the high sixties in October isn’t something you waste.

  I look at the address again. I’m on the right block, but I can’t imagine why he’d want me to meet him here. I don’t see any restaurants or bars on the street. There isn’t a movie theater or bookstore either. Initially I thought that that was his surprise, a bookstore tucked away in downtown Chicago. That would be pretty impressive. But when I see the address and people heading into the big building in the center of the block, I have to laugh. The building isn’t funny, but I can’t believe life would be this cruel.

  “No way,” I mutter as people hurry around me into the Corner Stone Community Church.

  I sigh and grip my forehead. I look at the address for the fourth time. Maybe I transposed the numbers; I even try to convince myself that the street is wrong. I see two girls approaching. They look like young high schoolers, maybe, but they seem friendly.

  “Hi, excuse me?” I call.

  They stop in their tracks, greeting me with friendly smiles.

  “Is there, like, a concert or something going on tonight? Like, does the church rent out one of its facilities to bands?”

  They both sort of laugh. “No, tonight’s Bible study. There’s music though.”

  I nod mechanically. “Oh. Okay, thanks.”

  Walking down the church steps, I dial Carter’s number.

  “Hey, Chas, did you make it yet? I’m only a few blocks away. It was crazy tonight,” he says.

  “Um, I’m standing in front of the address and I’m looking at a church. Is that right?” I ask, trying to make my tone sound more amused than annoyed.

  “Yeah, I’ll be there to meet you in a few. I’m walking as we speak.”

  I try to figure out how to say what I’m thinking without offending him, but I feel the words pushing up my throat. “Okay, is there a reason why I’m standing in front of a church?”

  “You can go in. No one’s going to bite,” he jokes back.

  My heart beats faster as I lose the small thread of hope that we’d just be meeting here for some odd reason before we went to the place we were really going to. “Um, I don’t… I don’t do church.” I hear silence on the other end of the line.

  “Ever?” He doesn’t sound shocked but curious.

  “Pretty much. I don’t see a point to it because I don’t believe in God,” I say, moving away from the steps and feeling as if all eyes are on me.

  “Um, hold on, I’m, like, one block away.” His breathing picks up as he’s obviously started to walk faster or jog.

  I look back at the large brick church and feel uncomfortable even standing in front of it. I think of what a waste it was to build, how much it costs to run it—all for an invisible being, like an overrated Santa Claus except worse. At a certain age, you realize Santa isn’t real, but with God, no one ever wakes up from that fairy tale.

  “No, Carter, don’t rush. I’m heading home. Enjoy your… time.” I hang up.

  I feel sad as I walk away. I liked Carter. He’s such a nice guy, and I saw us being friends. I don’t know how he’s going to take me not wanting to go to church with him, if he’ll still want to be friends with an atheist. Except I’ve never really attached myself to that word. I used to think of myself as spiritual. I didn’t affiliate with any specific organization or religion but I did believe in something. Until I lost Logan. Then it was solidified when I lost Anna. There’s nothing, no one out there when you need them, when you call to them, when you pray, and if for some reason there is, he, she, or it likes to play favorites. Some people getting the so-called blessings like Kelsey, and the rest of us get the leftover scraps.

  I walk to the next block and call an Uber. The weather doesn’t seem so nice anymore.

  “How about tomorrow at seven?” my mom asks, the irritation in her voice not the least bit hidden.

  This is her third time trying to pin down a date so Bryce and I can meet with her and my future stepdad. Wow, that sounds weird. Stepdad. I never thought I’d say those words.

  “Friday won’t work. I told you Bryce’s schedule is really hectic, Mom. But I can meet him.”

  I can practically hear her eyes roll. “I told you I want him to meet the both of you.”

  “Gee, Mom, I’m sorry just me isn’t good enough,” I say, trying to guilt her into relenting, but I know she won’t buy it.

  “You know that has nothing to do with it. I told you why this is so important to me. Did you tell Bryce? Maybe I should talk to him, see if he’ll take the day off.”

  “No!” I practically shout.

  “Chassidy, what is going on? I want to know right now.”

  “I just… he’s really stressed, and I don’t want you to guilt him into coming, with work being so crazy for him.”

  It’s surprising how easy that lie comes out. It’s not like I’ve never lied to my mom. I told her white lies, things that would make both our lives easier when I was younger, but this isn’t a little white lie. It’s big, but it is for her good. She’s just accepted a proposal based on my supposedly happy marriage. She has no clue that I’ve pushed my husband into another woman’s arms and we’re not speaking to one another.

  “I’m starting to feel like there’s something going on that you don’t want to tell me about, and it’s so offensive to me,” she says icily.

  I close my eyes and sigh.

  “I raised you to be strong, freethinking, and honest. I don’t feel like you’re exhibiting those qualities at all right now,” she snarls.

  “Well, I’m sorry that you feel like I’m not living up to your life code, but I have a lot going on right now.”

  “Great! Tell me about it!” she says, using a tone similar to what she'd have used when I was five years old.

  I hear a knock at the door, and I know it’s probably Carter. I’m relieved, but at the same time, I’m anxious. I don’t know what he’s going to say. I’m worried that he will just wash his hands of me after I hung up on him earlier, but at the very least, his visit is an excuse for me to end this conversation.

  “Mom, I’ve got to go, my neighbor’s at the door. I’ll call you tomorrow morning, okay? Love you,” I tell her, hanging up on her mid-sentence. Before opening the door, I whisper, “Please don’t let this be awkward.”

  As I expected, it’s Carter wearing a small smile. “Hey.”

  “Hi.”

  “Can we talk?”

  My smile widens a bit as I move aside and allow him to come in.

  “I’m sorry about today,” he says, and I’m surprised. “I should have told you where I was inviting you. I didn’t mean to keep it a secret. I just… I thought of it as more of a surprise.” He laughs, sitting in his designated seat at the island.

  “You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t know my belief. Or lack thereof.” I chuckle to lighten the mood.

  “If I offended you, I apologize.”

  I nod, letting him know I accept. “I’m sorry too. I
could have handled it better.” I grab two Pepsis out of the fridge and hand him one before sitting across from him. “It was just when I was standing there and all of the people were going in and I was so shocked, it overwhelmed me a little.”

  He nods, seeming to understand, and opens his bottle. He takes long gulps, and by the time he puts it down, it’s half empty. I wait for a big belch, but none comes. I take a small sip and cover my mouth as I burp.

  “So…” For the first time ever, I feel a patch of awkwardness between us.

  His bright blue eyes are on me and shine as usual. That eases me a bit, reminding me that he’s Carter, my next-door neighbor who is easy to talk to and seemingly there when I need him.

  “Do you just play there, or are you like… a…” I try to find the right words as I spin the bottle cap of my pop.

  “A Christian?” he finishes the sentence for me, wearing an amused grin.

  I chuckle. “Yeah. I guess.”

  “Well, I’m both. I play the guitar in the band most services, and yes, I’m a Christian.”

  My lips press together as I try to think of something to say. “Oh, okay. So… you’re not going to get in trouble for associating with someone who doesn’t believe in God?” I ask half-jokingly, and he smiles.

  “I’ll probably get a write-up and have to spend some extra time praying, but nothing too big,” he says, and my eyes widen. “I’m kidding.”

  I laugh at myself. Carter looks so different from the people I saw in my dad’s church the few times I went with him, when I was younger. Then I think of Kelsey and her husband. They’re both young and they go, but they’re married, not young and single. Carter’s cool—he seems like it at least. I just never would have thought he’d be into Christianity enough to invite me into it.

  “If you have questions or anything, you can ask me. We’re not a secret cult,” he says playfully.

  My cheeks flush. “I don’t really… just… you really believe all of that stuff? I mean, like, about God and the world being made in a few days and a person living in a whale…”

 

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