Truth: A Sinful Series, Book One

by Trilina Pucci

  “Of course, but sometimes I come first. Sometimes you have to be about me, Nick.”

  “Fine, Drew, you stay. I’m sure there are other ways to coerce Tina into my good graces. I’ll think outside the box…” My eyes grow wide with surprise at his insinuation. That was a threat. I can hear it twisted around his words like a snake.

  “Are you threatening me with Tina? Are you saying you would come on to her or be flirtatious?” I’m in disbelief. He wouldn’t, would he? He absolutely would…

  “Get your mind out of the gutter. Jesus, you can take the girl out of Oakland… Although, I’m sure her pussy wouldn’t be as frigid.”

  “Fuck you.” I smack the phone down on my desk, secretly hoping I didn’t break it but understanding the irony if I did. I just keep breaking the pieces of myself while I run away from the real problem.

  Three Months Ago

  “No, Gretch, he still isn’t home…” She’s in rare form tonight questioning me about Nick. He’s out more and more with his work buddies since getting a promotion, but corporate America comes with a lot of pressures. It’s the loosest of excuses, but I’m hanging on by a thread, and every time she pushes, I feel like the tear in the wallpaper somebody keeps picking at until the paper is torn, revealing all the destruction underneath.

  He’s the guy I love, but I always seem to be sabotaging my own happiness. First, I’m not available enough, so I make myself available more, but now it’s been a month since I’ve seen my friend. Then I’m condescending because my success makes him feel small, so I downplay what my role at my company is when we hang out with his friends. I know that once he finds an equal footing, he won’t ask me to do this for him. Because that’s what you do for people you love—you sacrifice and compromise. I just want him to know I love him.

  I walk to the fridge and grab a bottle of water, pulling the phone away from my ear as I chug the cool water down my throat. I don’t want to put the phone back, but I do, only to hear silence.

  “Hello, hello? Gretchen, you there?”

  “Yes, I was just waiting for you to stop ignoring me.” Well, I guess I’m trying and failing.

  “Sorry, but I’m not up for this tonight.”

  “Should I schedule a heart-to-heart, since I’m not sure when we may have another?”

  “Jesus, he’s just trying to find his way at his company. It’s hard to find your footing, and he’s pushing hard to stay noticed and relevant. You of all people should understand. I’m trying to be understanding and let him figure it out.” Why can’t she just leave it? I hate her for getting in my head.

  “So, give him advice. Don’t excuse shitty-boyfriend treatment, Drew.”

  “I’m not, but it’s hard for him. My success can feel overwhelming for other people. I cast a big shadow.” Cracking my neck, I hope to relieve the tension, but it holds strong.

  “What! How sweet—now you’re apologizing for your success?”

  “I’m not apologizing for anything! I just don’t have to rub it in his face.”

  “I never thought I would see the day. You can’t even see the line in the sand anymore.” Her voice is slathered in sarcasm and disappointment. I hate the disappointment part.

  “Gretchen, I’m being understanding. A relationship is about two people. I’ll never be successful if I’m always closed off to compromise.” Toeing off my sneakers from my run in our new neighborhood, I fall back onto the couch and put my phone on speaker as she continues.

  “Drew! How do you not see? First off… No, never mind. I can’t say it. I’m tired of saying it.”

  I sit in silence to call her bluff. The last couple of months, Gretchen hasn’t been thrilled with my relationship. At first, I believed Nick. I believed she was probably jealous of sharing her best friend with a boyfriend. I knew I was spending all my time with Nick, but he seemed to always have plans for us, and I was excited for his attention. Now with the move into our new suburban hell, it’s really hard to schedule some girl time. I also don’t like these conversations.

  Pulling me back from my thoughts, Gretchen’s voice echoes through the phone. “Okay, I’m going to say it. Who are you? You’ve lost your edge. It’s like you’re brainwashed—no, no…it’s like you have split personalities. You come to the office and kick ass every day, and then you leave and turn into his bitch. You’ve become somebody’s bitch.”

  Sighing, I let my breath take the last of my fight. I’m done.

  “Can we talk about this later? I don’t want to argue with you too. I’m exhausted.”

  “No, we can’t. I haven’t seen you in over a month, except at work. I’m worried about you. Where is my friend?”

  “Stop worrying; it’s just a rough patch. We’ll get through it.”

  “I’m not worried about your fucking relationship status because maybe you shouldn’t make it through. Maybe you should walk away, Drew.”

  Sitting up, I can’t believe she is telling me to quit, fail, just walk away.

  “Oh, that’s amazing. Aren’t you the person who said I needed a life? ‘Get laid, Drew’…weren’t those your words? Well, here I am trying to have a life. It’s not perfect, but at least I’m trying. Everywhere I turn someone is disappointed in something I decide. I can’t make any of you happy! Just fucking leave me be, Gretchen. I love him and I’m trying.” My voice is sharp at the end.

  “I wanted you to have some fun, not lose all your self-respect. Drew, you’ve compromised who you are, for him. What’s he done for you? Are you even happy? Because the girl I know would never put up with any of this nonsense.”

  I start to pick at the polish on my nails as I stare down at my hands.

  I don’t even know if that’s true anymore. All I know is the girl I was has been masterfully twisted and deconstructed by her own need to present the perfect life. Nick’s perfect on paper, and I just keep trying to hold onto the “glimpse” I dreamed for us. It seemed so real, so attainable. If I can just do everything right or better, we can get back there, but the thought that niggles at me is what if who we were isn’t who we are?

  “I’m too busy fighting with myself to stop and wonder.”

  “Why are you fighting yourself?”

  “Do you think I don’t see what’s happening to me? Do you think I swallow my pride, my fucking dignity, my self-respect without gagging on disappointment? Newsflash, G: I hate myself. I hate myself for loving him, and I hate myself for not being able to be the woman he needs. I just want him to love me, but how the fuck could anyone love me when I hate myself so much?” My words are accompanied by the tears streaming down my face. “I just…I don’t know. I’m stuck in the cycle. I can’t remember the last time he didn’t second-guess my every move, but then if I just listen to him and stop being so stubborn, he’s so happy and life seems perfect—except it isn’t. I don’t even know what to think anymore.”

  The silence on the other end feels appropriate. Sometimes you just have to say something out loud to hear how it sounds. I sound pathetic, like the girls I hate listening to, whiny and needy for the attention of someone who doesn’t care about them. I just can’t stop myself from caring.

  “Drew, promise me you won’t do that anymore.” Her voice is solemn, and I wonder if she feels sorry for me or sad on my behalf.

  “Gretchen, I love him, and I don’t know how to fail. I know it’s not perfect, but what if this is my only shot? No relationship is perfect.”

  “You’ve already failed.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means, my dear sweet friend, that you are so concerned about getting this right that you have forgotten to protect the most important person in the relationship.” She has to be joking.

  “What the fuck does that mean? I’m always thinking of what’s good for Nick. I just told you I was trying to work on everything wrong with me to make this work with him.”

  “I meant you, Drew. You should be the most important person to you…”

  My silence is all the va
lidation she needs to know that I hear her. I do hear her. It just happened so gradually, tiny concessions, victories disguised as compromises. It was all training. He doesn’t have to lift his hand over my mouth to muffle my voice; I’m using my own hand now.

  “I have to go.”

  “D…”

  “I have to go!” My scream surprises me too as I end the call, tossing my phone to the floor and not bothering to wipe my tears. I’ve become used to crying myself to sleep. I close my eyes and let the sleep take me.

  It’s 3:00 a.m. when Nick wakes me up from the couch, picking me up to carry to me to bed. He smells like cigars and cheap perfume. I open my eyes and look at his profile, wondering how I will live the next twenty years ignoring the smell of cheap perfume on my husband.

  “Put me down,” I gripe, trying to struggle from his arms.

  “What? Hey, sleepyhead, we’re almost to the bedroom. Put your head on my shoulder.”

  “Put me down.” This time my voice is stronger and more assertive as I force a leg down toward the ground.

  “Whoa, okay, walk. I was just trying to be sweet. Go back to sleep; you’re grumpy.” He holds both hands up in retreat after releasing me and walking past where I stand.

  “Where have you been?” The smell wafts by as he passes, causing me to grit my teeth together.

  “What? Not this again. I told you I was going out with the higher-ups tonight. You said it was fine, Drew.” Entering the bedroom, he removes his tie and tosses it on the dresser.

  “It was fine until you came back smelling like a strip club,” I spit out from the doorframe I’m standing in, hands on waist.

  “Oh, here we go. This isn’t about me going out. This is about you. You’re feeling insecure.”

  Fuck you, Nick.

  “How do you expect me to be secure, Nick, we haven’t had sex in a month, you’re never home, and you smell like women’s perfume.” Crossing my arms, I stare at him expectantly for an explanation.

  “Jesus, this side of you is so unattractive. Can you blame me for staying out? When I’m home, this is how you act. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and even under all that stress I’ve noticed that you have been super insecure about your body. I’m glad to see you working out again, but I didn’t want to pressure you for sex when you seem to be in a bad place about the weight gain.”

  I stare at him, stunned. I can see what he’s doing. He just tried to play my insecurity about the five pounds I’ve gained, but joke’s on him. I’m fine with it. Not again, Drew—don’t play right into his hand.

  “No. Hell no. I won’t do this. Nick, take a pillow and sleep on the couch. We can talk in the morning, I won’t stand here and let you try and turn my weight gain into some heroism on your part. Fuck that. Tonight, last night, and the night before were dick moves, and you owe me an apology.”

  Shaking his head, he grabs a pillow and walks to where I stand. Quick as lightning, he nabs my nipple between his fingers.

  “Ow, Nick,” I yelp as he squeezes hard before I can swat his hand away. “What the fuck are you doing?” I’m angry and confused, and tears well in my eyes. He hasn’t done this since… My thoughts are cut off by his voice.

  “That’s your punishment for making me sleep on the couch. Isn’t this what you want, Drew? To fight so we can make up? You think I don’t want you?” Gripping the back of my neck, he assails my mouth, blending our tongues together, making my body heat up. Even though it feels wrong, mean, my body responds in all the right ways. The marriage of the two fills my thoughts with more confusion until I just let go and fall into bed with Nick…and deeper into his hold.

  The only thought left in my head as I shake off the memory has me in a vise grip. I need to leave Nick.

  “YOU ALL PACKED UP?” NICK strolls into the bedroom with that arrogant smile, the one that claims his victory, as I zip up my bag. He does “Ivy League” justice with his six-foot lean frame adorned with blond hair, neatly cut, and ice-blue eyes. He is traditionally handsome, all American, the kind of guy your mother prays for you to bring home. My mother loves him. I loved him.

  “Yep, just looking for my hand sanitizer. Figured I should stock up for the weekend.” I roll my eyes. I can’t believe I’m doing this. He played dirty and had Tina call, knowing that I would never be impolite and refuse a personal invitation. Then again, maybe I’m just conditioned to be obedient. Nick puts his hands on my shoulders to turn me around. “I thought we were going to have a better attitude about this.”

  I hate when he speaks to me like a child. I hate it when he speaks.

  I just stand there looking at him, just staring at his features, the sandy-blond hair and blue eyes set against long black lashes that are only diminished by his strong jawline and broad shoulders. He’s so handsome, like a real-life Prince Charming, except he isn’t a prince. I just keep looking at him, wondering how someone so perfect on paper can be the beast in real life. Or maybe I’m the beast—after all, I okayed all of his treatment. That’s the funny thing: he doesn’t hit me or call me names. He doesn’t scream at me or tell me I’m stupid. His coercion of my spirit is subtle and manipulative. He’s held me underwater just long enough that I almost stopped fighting.

  “I dislike myself when I’m with you, and I don’t know if that’s because of me or because of you…”

  His face is incredulous. “That would be a ‘you’ problem, sweetheart.”

  I’m not sure he likes me either.

  Moving his hands off my shoulders, he steps back. “Oh, here we go. Is this the part where you become the victim and tell me how I’m holding you back from being your true self or some shit like that? Sounds like maybe you’ve been reading too much self-help. Or wait, wait…let me guess, I say mean things to you.” His voice ends with mocking baby talk. Dick.

  My eyes grow wide, my anger boiling at his mockery. “Oh, I’m not a victim. I’m an asshole, a huge asshole for thinking that those little quirks weren’t anything more than quirks. You don’t care about me, Nick. You just want to control me. I’m just here for good looks and points with your boss. I don’t want this anymore.”

  “What are you talking about? Do you even hear yourself?” Nick grabs my bag and walks over to me, extending it out to me. “Pipe down with the dramatics. You realize you are trying to make our relationship fail based on a fucking girls’ weekend. Come on, how can you hate yourself when I love you? Huh? Let me walk you out…” Putting his hand on my shoulder, he urges me along out of our shared apartment and out to the party bus that is waiting for me. Why the fuck don’t I walk out and keep walking? I’m not strong enough. I need this space to say and do what I need to. It may be chickenshit, but it’s a start.

  Taking my bag from his hand, I turn toward the bus doors. I can see the girls inside already preparing for the weekend. The amount of pink feather boas makes me slightly nauseated as I speed down the walkway of our rental house to the waiting bus.

  Footsteps grow louder behind me. “Drew, seriously, wait a minute. I don’t want us to go off like this. I’m sorry you feel bullied into this, but I really need this right now.” His voice is hushed, embarrassment etched on his face. I can smell his desperation. This is a new side to Nick I haven’t seen. “Patrick is a friend, but more importantly he has pull at this company. I need him right now; things aren’t as great as I may have made them seem. I need you. I wouldn’t ask for the help if I didn’t need it. Please just be nice and make them love you. It’s for my future…” After a pause, he corrects himself. “Our future.”

  The idea makes me cringe. I just want to scream out, We don’t have a future, but that would make this whole situation even more awkward. But the words are like soda being shaken in a can. They burst from my lips in a hiss, and my hand jumps to my mouth in an attempt to stop the combustion. I can feel the curious eyes burning up my back, probably intrigued at the look of anger on Nick’s face. Maybe this trip is the perfect solution to my problems. I need space from Nick to clear my mind to b
uild my resolve.

  “Not now, Drew” is the only affirmation he gives that he hears my words as he stands stoic.

  “Okay” is all I muster before I turn my back to him, making my way up the bus steps and plastering a super fake smile to accompany the hoots and hollers as I enter. I actually feel relieved when the doors close and the bus gears up to move. I haven’t looked to see if Nick is standing and watching me pull away because I just can’t pretend to care anymore. This weekend is a reprieve and a parting gift.

  I make my way to the back of the bus and plop my bag down on an empty chair, sliding into the chair next to it, while Tina’s maid of honor, Cassie, stands in the aisle giving a rundown of the weekend’s itinerary.

  “All right, ladies, we are going to partayyyy this weekend! Oh my God, it’s going to be totes amazing, and guess what?” She does a little wiggle dance, and everyone screams. “I got us on a totally impossible list for a club called Church. Wait for it…it’s a fucking sex club!” She screams, they all scream, and I just want to jump off the bus.

  Rolling my eyes, I look right to see Tina looking at me. Whoops. She stands as the commotion begins to settle and makes her way to the back where I am sitting. All I feel is immediate anxiety. I can’t believe she saw me roll my eyes. I may not like her and I may be using this party as an excuse to get the heck out of Dodge, but it’s never my intention to ruin her party.

  “Hey, so this is awkward, but I just wanted to say I ‘get it.’” Smiling down at me, she sits in the empty chair across the aisle.

  “Get it?” I shake my head, not clear as to what she means.

  “Yeah, I mean…” Staring down at her hands, she seems nervous. “I understand that you had to come. Pat and Nick go way back, and obviously they want their girlfriends to be friends, but I get that we don’t really have anything in common, so don’t worry…if you want to blow off all of the weekend’s activities, your secret is safe with me.”