Love Abstract (The Art of Falling Book 2)

by B. L. Berry

  I stand and walk next to the armchair on the other side of the room. I’m trapped and I need space. He rises but doesn’t follow me. Instead, he just watches me with sad eyes.

  “I knew I would lose you if I told you. And I would eventually lose you if I didn’t. I was fucked either way.”

  Is he fucking serious?

  “Well, congratulations! You and Genevieve weren’t the only ones who got fucked that night!” I can’t control the rage in my voice. I snatch my phone off of the couch, slip it in my pocket and try to step around him, but he quickly blocks my escape.

  “There’s no way I ever could have known that was your sister. It happened ages ago. Please ... can we just talk about this?”

  “Seriously? It’s disgusting enough that you slept with my sister. But to add insult to injury you lied about everything! I have absolutely nothing else to say to you right now,” That’s a lie though, what I really want to say is fuck you, asshole. But he would see right through that.

  “Come on…”

  “Phoenix! You slept with the enemy. You screwed my sister and then denied anything ever happened! How do you not see that this is an unforgivable crime?”

  “Do you have any idea how much it crushed me when I realized what I had done before I ever even knew that you were related to Gen? I cursed my past every damn day. These were implications that I never could have imagined.”

  He tells me this like I’m supposed to pity him for having to live with this secret. When in all actuality, he deserves to live with the weight of this burden until the day he takes his last breath.

  I fold my arms over my chest and chew on the inside of my lip. When suddenly it hits me.

  “Tell me Phoenix … how is what you did any different from what Sully did to me?” My breath is shaky, and anxiety over my revelation takes control. “If Gen was truly as fucked up as you say she was, and I have no doubt that she was wasted in every sense of the word, then you are absolutely no different.”

  My vision blurs and tears spill down my face. I can barely see his face blanching in pain through my emotional tidal wave. It may have been a low blow, and sure there’s a strong possibility that Gen was asking for it and Phoenix was simply thinking with his dick but what he did is not okay.

  He lied.

  Point blank.

  He lied about it all.

  “Come on, Ivy.” His voice is soft. Calm, even. His eyes desperately plead for forgiveness.

  My tears turn to angry sobs, and all I see is red. Fury pulses through my veins. And the longer he stands in front of me the more enraged I become. And I welcome it all. Because if I’m angry and livid and pissed, I know I won’t feel the insurmountable hurt. At least not as much.

  I wipe my face with shaky hands and bite my tongue, savoring the dull pain. I take a steady breath and glare at him.

  “You and that old best friend of yours,” I begin with a steady, calm voice. “You two are cut from the exact … same … cloth.”

  “Don’t be a bitch,” he breathes softly.

  An audible squeak escapes me lips. “A bitch? You think I’m being a bitch right now? I can show you me being a bitch!”

  I walk up to him, standing toe to toe and slap him across the face. My palm stings and I can’t control the tears cascading down my cheeks. Phoenix tries to pull me close, but I swat at his chest, trying to push him away. The harder I push, the tighter he wraps his arms around me.

  He squeezes me to the point of surrender and I just sob.

  Phoenix tucks his face down close my neck and whispers, “I’m so, so sorry.”

  You’re only sorry you got caught. Lies exist for one reason and one reason only ... to be self-serving. It was never meant to protect me.

  “I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. Please. I should have told you from the start. Let’s try to work this out. I love you so damn much, Ivy. Please?” With each apology, he clenches me tightly like he knows I’m slipping through his grasp and he’s doing everything he can to make it stop.

  If I don’t do it now, I may never have the strength. But I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I was worth so much more than someone who could cut me on such a deep level. The days of lying are in the past and that any relationship I’m in has to be based on truths. I have too much self-respect to allow this … us ... to continue on any further, especially after he lied to my face.

  I take a calculated breath and close my eyes.

  “You need to leave,” I whisper, trying to keep my voice strong. “Just get your shit while I’m at work later and go. I don’t care where you run to, but you can’t stay here.”

  His arms go limp and he steps away from me in disbelief. Phoenix is heartbreaking beautiful.

  “Are you breaking up with me?” He falls to his knees in front of me and I think I hear him gasp “no” before his emotions kick into overdrive and the lament settles in. He wraps his arms around my legs, pleading for me to take back my words.

  The question sends chills down my spine and the hair on my neck stands on end. But what he doesn’t seem to understand is that you can’t break up a relationship that was broken from the beginning.

  “Well, right now I certainly don’t know what we are … let alone who you are. All I know is that somebody who truly loves me would not have ever—EVER—entertained doing that, kept it a secret for so long and then fucking lied about it!”

  Phoenix looks up at me from the floor. “What do you need right now, Ivy? I will do anything. Just don’t leave me.”

  It pains me to see him beg like this. Hurt like this. In my former life, I loved to see men beg. But this? This is silently killing me.

  “What I need from you right now is some space.” I take a deep breath, trying to steel myself so I cannot be swayed before continuing. “Some space without you in it.”

  Guilt nags in the pit of my stomach knowing he has absolutely nowhere to go. But right now I can’t even look at him. And not just because I’m beyond disgusted—but because I know that if I look at him right now I’m going to break.

  I divert my gaze out the window.

  “Please. Just go…” I whisper.

  Phoenix lets go of my legs and stands up in front of me.

  “Ivy …” he reaches out to take my hand, but I pull it back, folding my arms across my chest. “Please…”

  I don’t say anything and we stand in silence for what feels like hours.

  The shrill of my cell phone snaps me from the numbness. I pull the phone out from my pocket and look at the name. My saving grace.

  “Hi, Rachel.” My voice is solemn and I grab my purse and head for the door. “Hold on just a second.”

  I hit the mute button and hesitate in the doorway and look back at Phoenix in the room.

  “I’m going to the gallery for the next few hours. That should give you plenty of time to pack up your essentials. We can figure out the rest of the stuff later on.” The sadness in his eyes is unbearable and pain streaks down his face. “Goodbye, Phoenix.”

  Then I do the most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my life.

  I close the door.

  And I walk away.

  ONE LIE.

  One lie is all it takes.

  One lie will infect your world with incomprehensible doubt.

  Shatter all hope.

  Destroy all trust.

  And ultimately crush you.

  One lie is enough to make you question everything. Including your sanity.

  Doubt is a mother fucker like that.

  Once the truth is unfolded, it will taunt you relentlessly. And while it may not shake the love you share, it’s impossible to have the fullest kind of love when insurmountable doubt exists. It drains you, and you’re left running on empty. Not because of emotional exhaustion or hurt or sorrow. But because you emptied out your soul, giving everything you had to the lie.

  The only reason to lie is because you're afraid. And Phoenix had every right to be afraid of what w
ould happen if I found out. But that doesn’t justify withholding the truth. And I hate knowing that he didn't think I was worth the truth. That our relationship isn't worth a foundation of honesty.

  Am I overreacting? Perhaps. I’m not an idiot. I get there were other women in the past. But now his past has caught up to us. Ugh. And the fact that it was Genevieve? Double ugh. But knowing that he fucking lied about it? That’s what is reprehensible.

  This entire situation is a total mind fuck and my head hurts as much as my heart. Love should really come with warning labels.

  And the worst part about it all is knowing that where there is one lie, there are inevitably more. This has proven true time and time again, and I should have known when he initially lied to me about Hailey. But apparently, I was too stupid to listen to my gut. It’s true—you really do only hear what you want. And I wanted to believe that Phoenix was an honest man.

  What else has he lied about?

  I know things can never go back to the way they once were.

  Not when we are sitting on a bed of lies.

  The truth is patient. It will sit there waiting for you until you're ready to accept it. Deny it's existence as you may; the truth will always come out.

  Always.

  I TAP THE TOP OF the bar twice, signaling the bartender to pour me another shot.

  The hipster slinks over and grabs a bottle of Knob Creek. Nothing but the best to drown my sorrows.

  “You really should come up for air, man,” he says as he slides the shot glass of whiskey my way. His jet black hair seemingly match his eyes. I know what he’s thinking, that poor, pathetic fuck up. Frankly, I wish he'd keep his judgment to himself. After all, he’s on the other side of the bar serving me.

  “I don’t recall asking for your opinion.” I can't control the bite in my bark and throw back the amber liquid, savoring it hastily before chasing it with the little that is left of my beer. I wince as I slam the glass back down on the bar.

  He walks away and I continue to brood in silence, spinning the empty shot glass on its side like a top.

  The past twenty-four hours have been absolute hell. I've been working hard to avoid a situation like this and then my stupid ass walked right into it without hesitation. I should have told her months ago.

  I am such a fucking idiot. If there were ever a lord god king of fucking idiots, it would be me, no contest.

  I slide off the barstool and make my way over to the jukebox. Slipping a few quarters in, I search for the most depressing song I can find, punch in the numbers and then return back to my seat before it has a chance to cool.

  “Of all the songs in that little machine over there, you want to listen to Beck’s Loser?” The barkeep shakes his head and wipes down the counter with a dingy dishtowel.

  “It’s fitting.” And also, fuck you.

  I’ve lost the one person who means the world. The probability of Ivy forgiving me is slim to none. It shouldn’t have gone down like that. It shouldn’t have gone down at all.

  I close my eyes and drop my forehead on the bar. Behind my eyelids, all I see is Ivy's rage, her contempt, her throwing me out with the trash. Exactly as she should have because that is exactly what I am.

  I did the unthinkable with one of the people she hates the most. And to make matters worse, I hid it from her instead of coming clean. A real man would have told her. A real man would have looked out for his woman before he looked out for himself. But I'm not even a real man. I'm a fucking coward, and I'm not worthy of a woman like Ivy. That much is clear.

  When I lift my head, the bartender is staring me down. He needs to chill the fuck out. The place is nowhere near capacity and I no doubt have the highest bar tab in the joint. At least I should after sitting here drinking for three straight hours.

  I've been drinking to remember.

  Drinking to forget.

  And drinking to ease the pain.

  At this rate, I'm going to be in a world of hurt. A second bender was not in my weekend plans. Roll with the fucking punches, I guess.

  I tap my fingers on the bar again as the nameless bartender passes me by.

  He stops in front of me and gives a disapproving look. My eyes plead with him. Just one more shot to put me out of my misery. He sighs heavily, shaking his head before filling another shot glass. This time he slides me a chaser of water.

  “I know it's none of my business, and you probably don't want to hear it, but I'm cutting you off after this shot.”

  Asshole.

  “Hey, thanks, Aston,” a deep voice says as a body piles into the stool beside me. “Trying to drink this place out of business, Moonpie?”

  I must be drunker than I thought because I look to my left and see three Brocks blurring together like a tropical oasis in the desert. Well, this is just fucking peachy.

  “Brock? Is that you?”

  “No. It’s your fucking fairy godmother.” He bumps into my shoulder and leans up onto the bar.

  “Fairy! Ha, you’re funny …” the words practically drool out of the side of my mouth. “So are you really here? Or have I drank myself into oblivion and you’re just here to ridicule me?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. And I’m not here to taunt you. Though you are distracting me from my latest conquest.” Brock looks over his shoulder at a wide-eyed ginger who is clearly here with a fake ID. How many guys does this dude go through in a single weekend?

  “Sorry,” I mutter without sincerity.

  “So what are you doing here by yourself? Where's Ivy?”

  “I don't know what I’m doing with anyone anymore,” I slur. “Ivy kicked me out. I'm pretty sure we're over.” I swallow hard, my body slightly sobering at the realization that I really have fucked everything up beyond repair.

  “Wait … what? What the hell are you talking about? You guys were perfectly fine last night.”

  I wince at the thought of our perfect night. The happy go lucky girl I love after a few drinks. The high of being on stage together and singing as a team. Our karaoke kiss that I can still feel on my lips when I close my eyes. Though if I close my eyes right now, I’m going to pass out on the bar.

  I exhale slowly, bracing myself to confess my sins once more. “I know. Last night in my drunken stupor, I confessed to sleeping with her sister.”

  “Whoa. The sister she hates? You’re an asshole to cheat on Ivy.”

  I nod silently, focusing my eyes on the grain marks on the wood bar.

  “Yeah ... I’m definitely an asshole. But I didn’t cheat on Ivy. It happened a while ago.”

  “You’re a bold man tasting two different apples from the same family tree.”

  I scoff. That wasn’t bold. It was unknowingly stupid. “It’s not like that at all. In fact, it’s far more complex than anyone could have ever imagined. But the fact of the matter is, I never told her. And I should have told her months ago.”

  Aston pours something into a shot glass and passes it to Brock. When the hell did he order this?

  “So tell me.” Brock slides the shot glass my direction with a glint of concern in his eyes and a sad smile on his face.

  I take the shot glass in my fingers and look at it before sighing and wishing the painful memories away. I would give anything to go back in time and tell her sooner and under the right circumstances. Maybe then I would have had a fair shot at earning her forgiveness, keeping her trust, making this—us—work. But nope. I went and ruined it before we ever had a chance to make it work.

  I bring the glass to my lips and savor the burn as the whiskey spills down my throat. It hurts so good. I nudge the empty shot glass back to Brock and take a sip of water, nearly choking on it. I wipe my mouth. “God. I don’t even know where to start. It’s all such a fucking mess.” Brock nods sympathetically and orders a vodka soda from Aston. “Well, just tell me from the start.”

  I take a deep breath, unsure if I really want to recount my dirty past with him. But I haven’t made many friends in New York, and I don’t want my work bu
ddies to judge me for my inexcusable behavior.

  The hell with it. I have nothing to lose at this point.

  I sigh. “Several years ago I dated this chick, Annie. She was a great girl, just not the girl for me.”

  “Are you sure you’re into girls?” he asks. My glare cuts right through him and he raises his hands in mock surrender. “Adorable piece of ass like you? Can’t fault a guy for dreaming.”

  “Anyway.” I take another deep breath. “Annie was expecting a ring and instead I gave her back the key to her apartment. She didn’t take it well, but I knew it was the right thing to do. Then I did what most guys would do. I threw myself into alcohol. Sex. Unadulterated debauchery. Women became my vice.”

  I never committed to any of them because none of them were worth my time. Harsh? Yes. Does that make me an asshole? No doubt. But true? Absolutely.

  “And that’s when I met her sister, Genevieve. Although, I honestly don’t even think she remembers doing anything with me. At least she never acted like she did. But who knows. It’s not like I’m going to bring it up to her in casual conversation.”

  Brock snorts. “I would never have pegged you as a forgettable lay.”

  This guy is unrelenting. I can certainly tell he’d be a handful for Ivy to work with.

  I ignore him and continue. “She was pretty fucked up that night. Beyond the booze, I saw her take two lines of coke, and who knows how many I didn’t see.”

  Silence lingers between us as he processes the implications of what I just said. The look he gives me isn’t one of judgment, but rather sympathy.

  “But between the booze and the flirting and the dancing, one thing led to another and … you know …” I trail off, reaching a whole new level of self-loathing.

  “I feel like an asshole for even suggesting this … but did she consent?”

  “I should never have gone against my better judgment and fooled around with her. She was so fucking high. And I knew better. I’m not that kind of man. But all of that wasn’t enough to stop me when she came onto me all hot and heavy. She practically fucked me on the dance floor. And I did what I think most guys would have done in that situation. I surrendered to her conquest. And I hate myself for it.”