by Stacy Borel
“Are you safe?” he asked.
“Mmmhmm.”
“Well.” He exhaled loudly as if in relief. “I’m glad you’re okay, at least. Seth has been worried sick, and I had to keep him back from going to court to get Sydney to talk. I knew the kid didn’t know where you were. I just wish you would have told someone, whether it was your mom or me, where you’d gone. I don’t think your mom has slept much since we found out you went missing.”
I hiccupped. “I’m very sorry, Daddy. And please don’t tell Seth where I am. He’d be on the next plane. I’m not ready to see him right now.”
“Is there any reason why not?”
“I just don’t.” No way was I going to explain that I was confused about my feelings and reconsidering my engagement.
“Well, until you’re ready, I’ll hold him off. He’s going to be upset that you called me instead of him, you know.”
“I know.” I dropped my head.
“Is everything with the house okay? I know you hadn’t been out there since Mom and I did the rebuild.”
Finally, a subject that made me somewhat happy. “It’s beautiful. Seriously, all of the little touches are perfect. Grandma and Grandpa would have loved it. And I think my favorite part is the door frame downstairs with my measurements on it. I didn’t know you’d kept that from the old house.”
I could hear his smile through the phone. “I knew you’d like that. And I’m glad you are enjoying the house. Is there anything you need, or something your mother or I could do for you? Do you need someone to talk to? I’m not saying you need it but maybe speaking to a therapist or something can help you sort through whatever is going on.”
My heart skipped a beat. I kind of had someone to talk to already. But if I mentioned Dawson to him, or that a man that I’d picked up on the side of the road was living here with me, it wouldn’t be Seth on the first flight out, it would be my dad.
“Thanks, Dad, but I think I’m okay for now.” I glanced up when something caught my eye. Dawson was standing in my doorway, and he was glaring at me. “Hey Dad, I need to go. I’ll call again soon.”
He said something else to me, but I wasn’t listening. I was in the middle of swallowing my own tongue. How much had Dawson heard? Was he going to ask who Seth was? Would this lead into questions I wasn’t ready to answer? Hanging up with my dad, I shut off my phone and avoided looking at the obviously fuming man who was watching my every move. I took my time putting it in my drawer and stayed on the other side of the bed, keeping my head down.
“Chandler.”
“Yeah?” Oh, look a fuzz ball. I picked at the bedding, even though there was nothing there.
“Did I just hear correctly?” He sounded absolutely menacing.
“Depends. What did you hear?”
“Look at me,” he demanded. I couldn’t defy him. “You made me believe that you were staying here. But this is your place, isn’t it?” I stood there totally dumbfounded, and yet slightly relieved that he didn’t ask about Seth. “Do your parents own this house?”
I raised my shoulders and let them drop. “Well, technically . . . it’s kind of mine.”
His dark eyes went wide. “Explain.”
I sat down on the bed, giving him half of my back. “The property that we’re on was my grandparents. Those summers I told you about, it was here that I spent them, except the house was different. My parents built a new home shortly after they passed away, and they kind of sort of gave it to me.” The more I said, the quieter I spoke the words.
“Kind of gave it to you? How is one given a house?” God, he sounded so ticked.
“Well, they gave me the keys and put it in my name. It wasn’t that hard, actually.”
“Don’t be a smartass.”
“I’m not,” I shot back.
“Then stop fucking giving me answers like it isn’t a big deal,” he growled.
“It isn’t a big deal. Jesus, what’s your problem?”
He took a step forward. “Are you dense? You’ve been fucking lying to me.”
Okay, this was getting a little out of hand. “Just because I didn’t tell you that I own the house, I’m all of a sudden a liar? Okay, Skippy, you need to calm down.”
That set him off. The person in front of me transformed back into the cold stranger that first got in my car. “I’m not sure why you didn’t say anything about it, but it fucking tells me something about you that you didn’t say anything.”
I lifted my chin in defiance. I was beyond pissed off. “And what would that be?”
“Don’t worry about it.” He gave me a cold smile. “I’m done.”
He turned and walked out of my room. What the fuck just happened here? And what did me mean he was done? Done with what, me? Living here? I wanted to get up, follow him, and demand that he explain, but something told me now wasn’t the best time to push him. That angry undertone he carried around with him on a constant basis was now aimed directly at me like I was a target. I heard the garage door close. Looked like going to the bar was out of the question.
As I sat on my bed and the minutes passed, I started shaking. Not from anger but from anxiety. I wanted to call him, but I didn’t know his number. I wanted to tell him I was sorry for not saying anything. He was right. I didn’t tell him, which essentially was a lie by omission. I ended up taking my time getting ready for bed. One hour turned into two, and two turned into three. Next thing I knew, it was one in the morning, and Dawson was still gone. He didn’t end up coming home till the following morning. Fatigue wracked my body, and I knew from the moment he walked in the front door . . . he’d been with somebody else.
DON’T ASK ME HOW I knew, I just knew. From the way he was looking at me to his entire demeanor. He came in and stopped in his tracks, penetrating me with those eyes, and somehow in the depths of them I saw, guilt? I didn’t know what else to call it.
“Where have you been?” I asked.
I was sitting on the couch with a blanket over my lap, and my knees drawn to my chest.
He almost appeared taken aback by my question.
“In town,” he responded.
Anger was bubbling up inside me. “For the whole night?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Yep. The whole night.”
I asked the question that I felt needed to be asked. “Were you with someone?”
“What?”
“You wouldn’t have stayed in town the whole night unless you were with someone. So, were you?”
A menacing laugh came from his chest. “Does it fucking matter?”
I threw my blanket back, ready to stand up and yell. “Of course, it matters. Why the hell wouldn’t it matter?”
“For starters,” he held his fingers up, ticking them off one by one. “I don’t owe you any explanation. I’m an adult and can do whatever I want. I wasn’t aware that I had a curfew. And I am single.”
All of his reasons might have been accurate, but that last one kicked me in the gut. “I know all of that, but why would you do that? Was me keeping the fact that I owned this house that big a deal? Was it so horrible that you felt the need to go be with someone else?”
He threw his hands up in the air. “Unbelievable. I spend a couple of nights in your room, and you think we’re together.”
“I never said that.” Although, part of me felt entitled to him.
“Then what is it? Whether I was with someone else or not, we aren’t a couple, Chandler. I don’t have any obligation to you.”
I stood up from the couch and rounded it to stand right in front of him. My chest was heaving, and I bit down on my tongue to prevent tears from springing to my eyes. “You’re right, we aren’t a couple. No need to be a dick and remind me of that.”
“Then quit acting like I’m yours. All it’s going to do is piss me off.”
“Noted.” I had nothing else to say, and frankly, I just wanted the whole conversation to end so I could go back to my room.
I turned to leave and he re
plied to my back, “Awesome, now you’re going to go pout. What the fuck ever, Chandler.”
I looked over my shoulder at him. “Get over yourself. I’m not pouting; I’m going to go take a bath.”
“Right.” He knew I was lying.
With that, I left. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was getting to me. I walked into my room and shut the door. Now that I was in here though, I felt sick to my stomach. How could he? We’d had so many conversations. Conversations that we shared things only intimate couples would share. Why would he just go jump in bed with someone who meant nothing? And what was even more, why did I feel so betrayed? He was absolutely right; we weren’t together. He had no obligation to me; I was just simply used to having him there. I liked feeling him next to me. He made me feel warm, safe, and protected. In such a short amount of time, I’d started to rely on him to make me feel something more than hollow. And I knew that wasn’t fair to him.
Deciding I needed to relax, I drew myself a bath. I sat and soaked for as long as the water stayed warm. When I got out, I curled up on my bed and shut my eyes. It didn’t take long for exhaustion to suck me under.
“So, is he ‘the one’?” Sydney air quoted, asking me about Seth.
We were at a college party, and I was using the bathroom for the millionth time. I shouldn’t have been drinking so much.
“I really think so. I think I knew it from the moment I met him, Syd. He loves me, and I know he will take care of me.”
She shook her head. Wild red ringlets swung through the air. “Okay, that sounds cute and all, but are you sure he’s the one you want to spend the rest of your life with? I mean, that’s a huge commitment. That means one man for the rest of your life. You ready to give up all that dick you could be sleeping with?”
I swatted at her while I sat on the toilet. Why did girls feel the need to bring a friend with them to pee again? Worst idea ever. “First of all, there are no other options for getting more dick, as you are calling it. Second, being taken care of is nice. Seth loves me, and that’s enough.” The moment I said it aloud, it didn’t sit well with me.
“You’re so full of shit, Chandler. Guys have been after you since we were kids, but you just never see it. I swear you lack so much confidence in yourself. A guy could straight up hit you in the face with a brick that says, ‘I’m into you,’ and you’d still be oblivious.”
I flipped her off.
“Bitch, please.” She grinned at me. “And sure, being taken care of is great. Who doesn’t want that? But that’s not all that you should have in a relationship. Has he ever caused butterflies?”
I paused to think about it. “No, I guess not.”
“Do you ever feel so turned on by him that you feel like you’d rip your clothes off in the middle of a subway system if you couldn’t have him right then and there?”
I giggled then hiccupped. “No, of course not. You know I’d never get naked in front of people.”
That earned me a sarcastic glare. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, okay, but no. It’s never been that intense with him before.”
She looked at me very seriously now before asking the next question. “Do you ever just miss him so much that if he’s not in the same room with you, you feel like you can’t breathe?”
“Syd, come on.” I rolled my eyes.
“I’m serious, Chandler. Answer the question.”
I looked down at my hands and picked at my nails. “No.” I was getting upset that she was even questioning the validity of my relationship with Seth. She knew we were good together. She loved and adored him just as much as everyone around us did. So why was she acting this way? “This isn’t a fucking movie. Love like that only exists in fairy tales, Sydney. I’d be a fool to think that shit was even real.”
She looked at me sadly, and for the first time in our friendship, I hated her for that sadness. “I just want you to think about this. We know that he’s going to propose any day now, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to settle just because he can take care of you. Chandler, you are more than capable of taking care of yourself. You’re financially set for the rest of your life, you have friends and family who love you and would do anything for you, and you know that you are never alone. If Seth is the one for you, and you know this without a shadow of a doubt,” she extended her hand out in front of herself, “then by all means, be with him. If he can make you happy, and you know that being with him forever is the right decision, then who am I to question it. I just want you to take some time and think about it before he’s standing in front of you, and an answer will be expected.”
I knew what she was saying, I really did. But I was also very intoxicated at the moment, and my eyelids were heavy. Now wasn’t exactly the best time to have this conversation. And certainly not while I was sitting on the toilet with my panties around my ankles.
I nodded at her. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
She bent down and kissed my forehead. “I love you, Chandler. Everyone does.”
“I know.”
Waking up, I glanced at the clock and saw that I’d been asleep for almost two hours. Rubbing my eyes, it hit me like a wave crashing into jagged rocks. Dawson and I fought. Sadness rolled through me all over again. I knew I’d have to leave my room at some point, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face him just yet. He was so . . . mean. Like ruthlessly mean with his words. Already feeling beat down from my dreams, I didn’t think I’d be able to take another hit today without having a total meltdown. If anything, I could go grab a glass of water, see where he was in the house, and hightail it back to my room if he still seemed crabby.
Getting up, I quietly tiptoed through the house and into the living room. He was sitting on the couch with his phone. Briefly, I wondered if he was talking to whoever it was who he was with last night. You have no claim to him, I reminded myself. At first, he didn’t appear to see me when I opened the cupboard and lifted the handle to the sink. I was watching him out of the corner of my eye. He was furiously tapping away on his phone. Okay, clearly not the best time to be out here. Why I felt the need to go hide from him pissed me off, but I wasn’t going to push my luck here. I was giving him way more power over my space, my emotions, and me than I knew I should, but I was powerless to stop it.
Heading back to my room, I figured I’d take the rest of the day to be lazy and read another book. But before I made it to the hallway, he halted me.
“You’re not even going to say anything?”
I twisted around to face him. I’m sure my face appeared flabbergasted. “Say something? What do you want me to say?”
He clicked the button on the side of his phone and put it down beside him. Fuck me; his eyes always made my heart skip a beat when he directed them at me like that. “Well, an apology would be good.”
I laugh bubbled up. “You’re kidding, right?”
He kept his mouth shut, and his stare didn’t waver.
“I have nothing to apologize for.”
Dawson scowled. “How about the fact that you jumped down my throat the moment I walked in the door this morning?”
“Ha! That’s a joke.”
“Do you see me laughing?”
“No, but still. You were gone all damn night. Then you come back and act like nothing happened.”
“That’s because nothing did happen.”
“Oh, so you’re saying that you didn’t sleep with someone? That you didn’t stay out and come waltzing in here and expect me to keep my mouth shut?”
I was hitting a nerve with him. His blow up was simmering underneath the surface of those brown depths. As I watched him, I wasn’t sure I was making the wisest decision by riling him up like this. I’d seen Dawson cranky, and a little more than moody, but I had yet to see him pissed to the point of rage. My words were quickly tipping the scale in that direction.
“Yeah, I fucking expect you to keep your mouth shut. You have no say, Chandler. None. I’m
single. Whatever you think we shared was exactly that, a moment. I go out and do whatever the fuck I want. If I want to go sleep with half the girls in town, I fucking will, and you have no say.”
I jerked back like he’d slapped me. It stung like he had. “Ouch.” Tears sprung to my eyes. “Why are you being like this?”
He shrugged indifferently. “Just being honest.”
“What in the hell happened to you to make you so goddamn mean? I have feelings, you know. I’m not saying we were together, but you don’t get to stand there and act like none of what happened didn’t matter.”
“I’m not saying it didn’t matter. I’m saying that who I sleep with is none of your business.”
I honestly thought I was going to throw up. The anxiety that was rushing through my veins was making my body shake. Every single word that was spewing from his mouth was like a vile of poison poured down my throat. He was purposefully lashing out at me, and I didn’t understand why.
“All right. Well, sorry for coming at you like I did.” I felt like he’d backed me into a corner. An apology was all I had to offer at this point, just to end the argument. I was desperate to make this feeling end.
“Don’t do it again,” he threatened.
“Okay.”
“I mean it.”
“I fucking said okay.” I was completely exasperated.
He regarded me as though he was waiting for me to continue to berate him for his actions. But I was done. I’d never fought with him like that before, and I didn’t care to do it again. How he controlled my emotions and the words that I spoke was insane. I’d never felt so powerless against another person before, and I felt weak. How on Earth did he gain authority over me like that? I’d not given him permission to do so. Except the longer I stood there under his gaze, I realized that I actually had. My backing down so quickly let him know he had the upper hand. It taught him that he was the authoritative one between the two of us. I’d never once given someone that much power over me. Who in the hell was this man, and what had he done to me?
“Are you hungry?”
My own fury was lying low, but I could feel it sitting there. It took the last of my energy to keep myself from coming out of my skin and hitting him like I so desperately wanted to.
