by Adore Ian
“I know,” she soothes. “But Damian isn’t your mother.”
“I know. And I know it’s not fair to decide for him, I do. But I love him and I don’t want him to hurt me like she did. If I tell him, then it feels as if I’m handing him the power to hurt me, losing what little control I still have. And then there’s Frank. I don’t want Frank to hurt Damian because he’s with me.”
“Two thoughts,” Alice says. “First, don’t worry about Frank. Let me deal with him. It’s a matter of time before we locate him, and I’ve got people watching you and the apartment. You don’t have to worry about him coming around you or Damian—or anyone, okay?”
I nod.
“Second thought, if you tell Damian the truth and he rejects you, is that outcome really any different from where you are now? You might be slightly sadder, knowing it’s officially over—and that he’s a complete douchebag for turning you down for such a lame, superficial reason.” I smile. “But feeling sad isn’t unusual or uncommon after a breakup, is it?”
I turn to face her. “I guess not.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to know?”
“I suppose.”
She strokes my hair. “So think about it. You don’t have to do anything now, or at all.”
“I don’t think I can tell him everything at once. Openly asking to be his girlfriend will be hard enough.”
“So tell him that,” Alice says. “Just be honest with him. Tell him you can give him one truth at a time. One vulnerability at a time. Start with the small stuff and work your way up.”
I like her plan, but…
Anxiety over all the ways it could go wrong makes me jittery. “But what about Frank? I can’t control Frank. He could show up at any time and ruin everything.”
“Look at me,” Alice says. I do. “Let me worry about Frank. I’ll find him, and when I do, I’ll let you know. You can decide what you want to do after that, but there is no use worrying about it now. Okay?”
I nod, her words easing me.
We spend the rest of the day watching movies and eating popcorn. Gavin arrives just before sundown to pick her up and drop off some much needed groceries.
Alone in my apartment, I spy two coasters on my coffee table I’ve never seen before. I pick one up. It depicts an old movie poster for Cat People. It shows Irena and says “She was marked with the curse of those who slink and court and kill by night!”
I smile. And then I cry because I know who left these for me.
Damian
The first weekend after spring semester starts, Vicky invites us all out for a night of fun at a local dive bar called Church. It has billiards and darts and good local beers.
At half past ten, I pick up Hayden and we head to the bar. When he got back in town a few days ago, I told him everything that went down between Marrin and I. I had to. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. Besides, if he’d asked me what was wrong one more time, I’d have started throwing things. So I told him.
We park on the street and head inside.
I know Marrin was invited and that she’s coming. Tonight will be my first time really seeing her since we broke up three weeks ago. She texted me to say thanks for helping her when she was sick, and I responded that it was no problem. Other than that, I’ve had no contact with her.
I told myself I was prepared to see her. That I’d act cool and give her space. However, the moment I enter the bar, I start searching for her.
I find her across the room looking as lovely as always in dark jeans and an old band T-shirt. Our eyes collide and a sad, hopeful smile touches her lips. I mouth the word, Hi, and she starts rapidly blinking like she’s fighting tears. Pain slashes my heart like a whip.
Hayden steers me toward the bar. “Let’s get you a drink.”
“Let’s get me a few drinks.” I order two shots of whiskey and two beers. I take one shot and pass the second to Hayden along with a beer. “For you.”
He declines the shot but accepts the beer.
“Come on,” I say. “You’re at Church. Take the sacrament, cleanse your sins.”
“I’m not religious,” Hayden says. “And one of us needs to be of sound mind to drive your drunk ass home later.”
“True.” I down the whiskey, trying not to think about how it’s the same color as Marrin’s eyes. It burns its way down my throat, warming my belly but not my heart.
Did I really just think that? I need a timeout.
I grab my beer and we make our way to the table where our friends sit.
We mingle and I make a normal amount of eye contact and conversation with everyone—except Marrin. Awkward doesn’t even begin to describe the air between us. I try to act normal, but I’m not sure how long is too long to look at her and how much is too much to talk to her. Too many things hang between us. I know she feels it, too.
I’m beginning to understand why Vicky didn’t want me dating any of her friends.
Marrin mostly talks to her girlfriends at the other end of the table and I mostly talk to the guys at my end of the table.
Well, until Devon arrives.
“What’s up?” he greets. Devon is one of those guys who’s friends with everyone. He’s a tall white guy with a perpetual suntan and chin-length blond hair. “How was everyone’s break? Heard the snow storm was insane.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Vicky grumbles, “I wasn’t here. Damian and Marrin were, though.”
He looks at Marrin and does a double-take. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she says, uncomfortable with the attention.
“Dude,” Devon replies. “Not trying to be rude or give an unsolicited opinion about your appearance, but you look like you need a sandwich and a yearlong nap.”
“I had the flu.”
I know it’s not a lie, but I can tell it’s not the whole truth either because her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.
“You get a flu shot?” Devon asks.
“Nope. I’ll never make that mistake again. I now understand how people can die from the flu.”
Dev still looks concerned. “Did you see a doctor?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just kind of stressed with school and life and all that. How was your break? Didn’t you go on a surf trip?”
She changes the subject like a racecar driver shifts gears, and I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who notices. Devon launches into a story about his break and that’s that.
Suddenly, I’m angry. How hard is it to confide in your friends about your life? This woman is keeping so many secrets I could break something.
Or maybe I want to break something because I was one of those secrets.
Pain and anger roil in me. Jayce shoots me a quizzical look. I ignore him and head to the bar for another drink. He follows.
“What happened with Marrin?”
“Nothing,” I say.
“Bullshit,” Jayce replies. “I can practically see the awkward air between you two.”
“What happened is we’re not sleeping together anymore,” I say bitterly. “It wasn’t my decision.”
“Shit, dude. That sucks… I did tell you she was bad news, though.”
“Yes, thank you for rubbing that in. You’re a true friend.” He chuckles as I pay for my beer.
“Lighten up, Dame. There are plenty of single women here tonight to help you forget about her.”
“I don’t want to forget about her.” The words check my anger enough for me to explain that I’m not done chasing Marrin, and that even if she never wants to date me, I don’t want to lose her as a friend.
“I understand that,” Jayce says.
We start walking back to our table.
“DAME.”
I turn and see Holly from work walking over with a big smile on her face.
“What’s up, Hollywood?” I say, as she hugs me. “What are you doing out? Didn’t think I’d see you until next Saturday.”
Marrin
Coming out tonight was the worst idea ever. Seeing Damia
n is more painful than I’d thought it’d be, and to make it worse, he’s talking to some gorgeous brunette. She’s pretty in all the ways I’m not. She’s bubbly and personable and a heaping pile of cleavage protrudes from her shirt like two melons trying to escape a Ziploc bag.
Ugh. When did I start being jealous of other women? Who am I right now? I’m not mad at her. She’s just living her life, talking to a hot guy at a bar—who’s clearly enjoying her company.
I’m mad at Damian for talking to her. No, I’m mad at myself for being mad that he’s talking to her. But mostly I’m mad that this beautiful woman seems so open and free, and I can’t even tell the guy I love a stupid fact about my life that seems so lame and insignificant compared to the one he told me.
It’s okay to be vulnerable, Marrin.
From the moment Damian walked in, I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to talk to him about how I feel. He’s everything I want.
He’s my best friend.
But it’s that realization that makes everything so much harder because now I have so much more to lose. Before if I told him about my life and he rejected me, I’d only be losing a fuck buddy no one knew about. Now if I tell him and he rejects me, it’s like I’m losing a piece of my soul.
Two days ago, Alice called to tell me she was able to put a tail on Frank. Which means I no longer need a security detail. The moment Frank tries to get close to me again, the team tracking him will notify us. Therefore, I can keep him away from Damian. And that means Damian is safe and that I have time to ease him into my baggage at my own pace. Frank won’t be popping up to ruin everything.
All night I’ve been going back and forth in my head. To tell Damian I want to be his girlfriend or not to tell him. Five minutes ago, I was ready to just tell him. But the way he’s talking to this woman like they’re old friends has my stomach in knots because what if I’m too late? What if he’s decided I’m more trouble than I’m worth?
Stop. You sound like some wishy-washy soap opera character.
Aw crap. I am a wishy-washy soap opera character.
Tiana nudges me with an elbow. “What’s up? You’ve been weird all night.”
“Nothing. Just stressed.”
Vicky leans toward us from across the table. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with,” she lowers her voice, “Damian, would it?”
“Yeah,” Tiana says, “because you two are acting suspect.”
“What? No, I’m just stressed.”
“Confess your sins,” Vicky pushes. “You’re at Church.”
I glance at Damian and tears prickle my throat.
I stand. “I need to use the restroom and get another beer.”
When I come back to the table, Devon is in my seat and the only spot left is between Vicky and Damian.
Great. Just great.
I sit next to Damian—who has no idea because he’s turned in the other direction talking to the cute brunette. I take a too-long sip of beer, trying and failing to ignore the way Damian smells. It’s fresh and masculine and reminds me of all the times we kissed and touched and—
I need to stop before my ho-varies get the better of me.
I focus on my friends. Jayce and Vicky are to my left, talking about spring break. In front of me, Devon orders a pitcher of beer for the table then goes back to talking to Tiana. Hayden sits next to Devon, talking with Damian and the cute brunette at the head of the table.
All around the room, people are talking and catching up with friends.
I look at the people around me. At my friends. They’re laughing and sharing stories and having a good time with one another… but not with me.
I’m sitting at a table of friends and I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alone.
I sip my beer. This is my fault.
I’ve kept them all at arm’s length because I’m too embarrassed of who I really am.
I take another swig of beer. Then another. And then I don’t put it down. I just keep chugging until I’m tilting my head back to empty the bottle.
“Damn, Marrin,” Hayden blurts. “Show that beer who’s boss.”
I ignore him. I ignore everyone as they turn to watch me finish.
Only one person in this group really knows me.
It’s okay to be vulnerable.
I pull out my phone because I don’t trust myself not to burst into tears if I speak to him out loud.
Marrin: Can we talk?
The waitress delivers the pitcher of beer Devon ordered, and I don’t say no when he pours me a glass. “You must be stressed, Mar. I’ve never seen you drink like this.”
“Me either,” Vicky says, shooting Tiana a wary look.
I take a healthy gulp of booze. I feel Damian’s eyes on me like a touch.
I wish he were touching me.
He’s so close I can feel his body heat. If he asked me to fuck him in the bathroom right now, I’d say yes. I’d let him have every part of me because really, he already does. Alice was right, he isn’t the problem with us. I am.
Something happens in my brain and suddenly I can’t even hold a smile or a conversation. Both feel forced, fake. Just like me.
Another swig of beer it is!
Someone produces a deck of cards and I narrowly avoid getting roped into a game of poker. I pretend to follow along with Vicky, but even that’s hard to fake.
A few minutes in, Damian pulls out his phone. My heart picks up and I take another sip of beer.
Damian: Right now?
Marrin: Yes.
Damian: I’m not sure that’s a good idea.
A feeling runs over me like rain down a windowsill. It’s a moment before I’m able to put a label on it. Crestfallen, dejected.
They play a few more rounds of poker and I’m just tipsy enough to send a few more texts.
Marrin: I understand if you’ve moved on.
Marrin: I wouldn’t blame you if you did.
Marrin: Just tell me.
But Damian doesn’t check his phone.
I chase the sinking feeling in my gut with beer. It’s only my third drink, but I’m a lightweight, which means I’m well on my way to being white girl wasted. Hooray.
Damian
My phone has vibrated three times since I put it back into my pocket and I know each was a text from Marrin. She’s sitting next to me chugging beers, and I’m not sure what to do. I want to talk to her, but if I’ve learned one thing from my mother, it’s that you can’t have a serious conversation with someone when they’re drunk.
Tiana wins the round and I get up to get Holly and myself fresh beers. It’s almost midnight and the place is fairly crowded. I find a spot at the bar and wait for the bartender to come over.
I’m about to grab my phone and check my texts when a flash of silver-white catches my eye.
“Hey,” Marrin says, appearing at my side.
I startle. “Hey.”
She opens her mouth but the bartender interrupts. I order two beers and when I turn back to Marrin, pain and disbelief twist her face. She looks away, blinking hard. I’m not sure if she’s fighting tears, but if she is, then she’s probably had too much to drink. The bartender brings my order and asks for hers. She doesn’t hear him.
“Marrin. Bartender asked what you want.”
She shakes her head. “N-Nothing. Can we talk?”
“Not right now, no.” I don’t mean to sound harsh, but I’m a little floored she’s asking in person. She’s probably drunker than I’d thought.
Her eyes dart around. “Later maybe?”
“I want nothing more than to talk to you, but tonight’s not a good idea. We’ve both been drink—”
“What’s taking so long?” Holly says, popping up at my side. Her eyes flit between Marrin and I. “My bad. Am I interrupting?”
I wait for Marrin to answer because it’s her choice. But she only stares at me. So I say, “No,” and hand Holly her beer.
“Thanks. Who’s your friend?” she asks with a genuine smile.
“This is Vicky’s friend, Marrin.”
Holly extends her hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m Holly.”
The next second is the longest of my life. Marrin looks at me like I killed her puppy. Then politely introduces herself to Holly.
Once they shake hands, Marrin excuses herself and bolts.
I’m not sure what to do.
Holly grabs my beer. “I don’t know what you did, but if you don’t chase that girl, I will.”
Shit.
Marrin’s halfway to the exit before I grab her arm and spin her around. “Wait up. What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” She keeps her head down.
“Look at me—”
“No.”
“Baby—”
Her head snaps up. “Don’t call me that.” Angry tears rim her eyes.
“What’s this about?”
“You should’ve told me.”
“Told you what?” I’m so fucking confused.
“That you were bringing a date.” Her voice cracks and she wipes at a few tears. “I get it. I don’t blame you, but you should’ve told me.”
With gut wrenching clarity I understand. I reach out to touch her face, but stop when I remember we’re in public. “Holly is a friend from work. I didn’t invite her, we’re not on a date and she has a serious girlfriend. Nothing is going on. I swear. Ask her.”
“Then why are you ignoring me?”
“I’m not. I read your first few texts and figured you sent them because you’d had too much to drink. I didn’t want to start a conversation you’d regret in the morning.”
Her whole body seems to sag. “You’re not mad at me?”
“Baby, why would I be mad at you?” The urge to touch her is unbearable.
“Because I’m a mess. Because I can’t just tell you what’s wrong with me.”
She looks so pitiful it’s almost funny. But the truth sobers me enough to focus. “A part of me is angry, but not at you. I’m angry that I didn’t do enough to earn your trust. I’m angry that I showed up at the club without considering your feelings. I’m angry that I agreed to keep things between us private which put me in a position to feel like I was just another one of your secrets.” I rake a hand through my hair and sigh. “I want to talk to you, but I love you too much to fuck this up again.”
