by Kyla Ross
Natalie’s face flushed scarlet, merely boiling in rage. She breathed heavily as she watched Jason reach into his pea coat’s breast pocket. He presented a suede box and said, “Please, open it.” Wincing and shaken, he merely fumbled the box as he passed it.
Natalie dropped the cleaver into the pool of blood, snatched the box, and opened it. Inside, the box was embedded with violet silk. Rooted inside was a diamond engagement ring.
Natalie came to tears just staring at the stone. “What? Why, Jason? Why? Why would you try to marry me if you’re cheating on me? You smell like a woman’s perfume! You’ve come home late all week! I saw you pick her up and take her out today! Why?”
“It—” Jason coughed up blood. I— wa—” He gasped as he choked on blood that came spewing from his mouth and onto the floor, adding to the pool that surrounded him.
“Fucking answer me!” Natalie shrieked, more confused than angry.
“The flowers were—” his voice fade to a whisper. “I wanted to surprise you at dinner tomorrow. I rented … a rooftop … for … a … can … dleli— a candlelight din-ner with flowers, ev-everywhere.”
Jason’s eyelids sagged as he struggled to speak.
“The woman you saw … She’s … our wedding pla—” Jason gurgled and stopped. He rested his cheek on the floor.
His brunette curls soaked in the puddle of blood, the drops fleeing into the strands as if eager to reenter him. Natalie leaned over and watched as he choked on his final breath. He stared back, horrified and defenseless. Watching her fiancé-to-be, she thought about the advice her therapist had given her at their last session.
“Natalie, you have to learn that not everyone is out to get you or hurt you. You also have to realize that not everyone will think or feel the way you do.”
“They don’t have to think like me or anything like that, just love me back, that’s all. And be happy with me.”
“In this life, you will run into some people who just won’t love you back, Natalie. That’s life. There are people who have been married for decades, have children together, have lives together, but they don’t love each other. They’re not happy, Natalie. When they do get divorced, they learn to let go of the past and move forward. You have to learn to let go. If you don’t learn to understand that not everyone is going to feel the way you do and let go, then one of two things is going to happen. You will take this mindset into a serious adult relationship, and then you will either be left alone and always hurt, or worse, someone will seriously get hurt.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Your romantic relationship track record shows that you resort to violence when love does not work out in your favor with the one you want. You’ve hurt people in violent ways. You have to get ahold of your anger and this fantasy world you’ve manifested. You don’t want to meet the guy of your dreams, flip out over a misunderstanding or a minor snag in the relationship, and hurt him. Love and take care yourself, and be mindful of how others feel.”
Natalie stumbled backwards. The room spun the way the porch did when she stabbed Theo and the way the hallway did when she caved that girl’s head in. But Jason didn’t run off, screaming for help. Jason’s lifeless eyes stared back at her as he laid on his back, soaked in blood.
“What have I done?” she whispered. She examined the open suede box once more and removed the diamond ring, sliding it on her fourth finger, left hand. She admired how the rock glimmered from the moonlight that snuck through the blinds. This was the day she dreamed of: the day Jason would make it official. But it played out differently than she imagined. Her fiancé was dead by her hand, her anger and misunderstanding, leaving her hurt and alone. She let out a bloodcurdling cry and dropped to her knees.
“Jason, please don’t go! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, come back to me, please!”
She didn’t know what to do next. All she could do was gaze upon the blood. There was so much of it. And for what? The thought of being single in her mid-thirties sent a sharp pain through her belly and fueled a crippling migraine.
In a fit of rage, Natalie soared to her feet, stomped Jason’s belly, and shrieked, “Now who am I going to marry?”
Phil
Phil sat at his desk staring blankly at his email—eleven of them were bolded, unread. He’d been out of the office for a few days due to his father’s funeral. He knew it would only be a matter of time before the old man passed because Phil had been witness to his long battle with lung cancer.
Watching him die peacefully in the hospital hadn’t been nearly as painful as Phil anticipated; his father was no longer suffering. Though he was happy for him, he hated the awkwardness of the funeral. The fake hugs and whimpering from those people who called themselves ‘family’ made him cringe. He hadn’t seen any of them since his mother died, an event that should’ve taken his life as well but instead left him with the image of his mother’s crushed skull intertwined with metal. He had walked away with a few broken bones that healed in no time, as most ten-year-old bones would.
After his mom died, all he and his father had were each other. Life would be different without the old man around; he had been the only person who truly knew who Phil was and never passed judgment. But he would blend and adapt, wearing the mask his father had taught him to wear since the accident.
“Phil?” his boss said, interrupting his thoughts.
“Yeah. What’s going on, Rob?” asked Phil as he attempted to snap out of his self-pity.
He looked up at Rob, who was towering over him. Rob’s tan skin, big gray eyes, and salt-and-pepper, slicked-back hair glistened in the lights of the office. Rob was a suave guy, mastering the art of charisma that forced everyone to want to be him, not just know him. This attribute aided heavily in the success of his used car dealership.
Phil and Rob had been close friends since Phil first came to work for him ten years ago. Aside from Rob being the best teacher and boss, he was an amazing henchman. Phil and Rob would mix in with the sexual underworld, frequenting strip clubs and brothels, a world that Phil acquainted Rob with and Rob happily funded. The men shared a vast array of lies that built up over years; they worked together to keep the secrets under wraps. Phil bailed Rob out of trouble with his last three wives, lying for him by corroborating his alibis, covering up Rob’s obsession with the ladies of the night, just as Rob had done for Phil, albeit rarely. Though this lifestyle had worked in Phil’s favor, it had landed Rob three divorces.
Phil had a theory about Rob’s failures: Rob was sloppy when it came to women, whereas Phil was careful. Strangely, Phil thought this realization made him something special. He could experience multiple sexual fancies with different women and not get caught.
“Can you come into my office, please?” asked Rob.
Phil lifted himself out of his desk chair and followed Rob to his office.
“Have a seat,” said Rob. Phil slowly pulled the leather armchair out from the laminated wooden desk and cautiously sat down. He watched as Rob hurriedly flopped down into the brown leather desk chair and turned to face him. What was this about? Rob never called a meeting unexpectedly.
“I’m so very sorry for your loss,” said Rob. “I send my condolences to you and your family. Your dad was an amazing guy.” Phil relaxed. He had forgotten about the time Rob had met him and his dad for a beer the night wife number two filed for divorce.
Gonna miss the old man, Phil thought. “Thank you.”
“Anyway, down to business. I’m having a meeting with most of you guys because, well, I have bad news,” said Rob.
Phil’s relief turned into panic. He knew something was amiss. Why would he have bad news for most of them? He felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach.
“Is everything okay?” Phil asked. The knot in his stomach seemed to burst, and he felt his chest tightening.
“Heather is divorcing me, so… I have to make some cutbacks,” said Rob. “That bitch is draining me and won’t stop until I’m left with nothing. Phil�
�� I have to let you go. I can only afford to keep three of the six of you guys for now.”
“You can’t do this, Rob,” Phil begged. “Come on, Rob. Why now? You’ve made cutbacks before and always spared me. So why are you giving me the boot now?” Phil was confused. Didn’t Rob consider Phil a friend?
“Give me the keys to the office,” Rob said. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” Rob began to shuffle around a stack of papers in front of him.
“I thought we were friends, Rob.”
Rob shot Phil a disgusted look. “You should’ve thought of that before you ruined my marriage.”
“What? Is that what this is all about?” Phil asked, puzzled. “Because you keep getting caught? What’s going on? Is there something you want to tell me?”
Rob smirked. “I tried to keep this professional, but you know what? Fuck you, Phil! Heather told me she talked to you. You told her about Veronica and Shaunie.”
Phil had to dig deep to find those names as he and Rob had been with many women. The faces never came to him.
“She’s lying!” Phil yelled. “You’ve been married four times. You date multiple women! How do you not know by now that they lie to get the truth out of you?” There was no use in holding back anymore. “You keep getting caught because you’re fucking sloppy!”
“Sloppy?” Rob asked, now squinting at Phil.
“Yeah, sloppy.” Phil stared at him. “What’s to stop me from going to talk to her when I leave here?”
“Lana.”
Dammit.
Lana. Phil’s wife. If she found out about Phil’s second life, she would leave and take everything with her. Secrecy was standard for Phil, letting people know only what they needed to know. For instance, Lana only knew certain people in Phil’s life. Unfortunately, Rob, being his boss, was one of them.
Phil sat stunned, knowing he had to pick his next words carefully.
“As you have so kindly pointed out, because of my sloppiness,” Rob continued, “you are out of a job. Now please send Owen in.”
The meeting was over, and the opportunity to take control of the situation gone.
Phil stood up, still glaring at Rob as his heart pounded violently, threatening to unleash a sea of fury. Rob must have felt it because he turned his office chair toward the window behind him.
Fucking coward, Phil thought as he stormed out the office, slamming the door behind him.
Upon reaching his desk, Phil retrieved his car keys that were stored in his top desk drawer and slammed it shut with all his strength, causing it to roll back open. He then snatched his phone off the charger cable connected to his computer tower. The force of his yanking pulled the tower to the edge of the desk. He hoped it would fall to the floor and was disappointed as it didn’t.
The ongoing chatter that the salesmen were prone to had halted, forcing Phil to look up and notice that his colleagues were staring at him.
“WHAT?” Phil yelled.
Owen, who shared the cubicle with Phil, got up and reached out to him as he struggled to remove the office key from one of his many keychain loops.
“Phil, what happened in there?” Owen’s level of worry was plain as his big blue eyes took on a concerned expression.
Phil successfully removed the office key from his keychain and slammed it on the desk.
“That asshole let me go,” Phil spat. “Fucking asshole.” Though Phil felt betrayed by Rob, he didn’t mention the true nature of being fired. The things that Rob and Phil partook in was a dark secret the two shared, and it was going to stay that way.
Phil’s frustrations caused a ball to form in his throat, so he turned and started towards the door. No need for the guys to see him crumble any more than they already had.
“Oh yeah,” Phil said as he stopped and turned to Owen, “he wants to see you in his office.” Phil left the office, slamming the door behind him, causing the blinds on it to shake violently.
Phil drove off, stewing on the newfound hatred he had for Rob. How could Rob think that Phil would throw him under the bus and how could he fire him as a result? Was Rob trying to start over by pushing Phil out of his life? What did Heather know about Phil? How did she know? So many questions would go unanswered, a fact that left Phil sick to his stomach.
What a fucking asshole. Fucking douchebag fuckhead. Phil began to drive faster. How dare he just dump me because he’s a sloppy coward. Fucking asshole.
The tears began to roll down his face as he merged onto the highway, nearly hitting the vehicle that was in the lane where he wanted to merge. The driver blew their horn and Phil was sure they were screaming obscenities as they were flipping him off, but he didn’t care. As he crossed over into the fast lane, he glanced at the speedometer. 94 mph.
Phil finally gave up resisting his rage and began to breathe heavily, causing his nostrils to flare.
“Fucking asshole!” he yelled as he hit the steering wheel with his fist, not letting up on the accelerator.
He was flabbergasted at how Rob dragged Phil down with him because he wasn’t man enough to deal with his fourth failed marriage head on. Not only did he blame Phil, Rob also threatened to drag Lana into his mess.
Ruin my marriage because I play the game right and you always lose? The betrayal stung Phil to the core.
Lana. He shivered at the thought of her finding out about his dark side. She was aware of the things he did on the darknet, like making friends with creepy serial killer contenders. But she knew nothing of his girlfriend. Or his ‘best friend,’ the coked-out stripper. Or the many other women he was involved with, both paid and unpaid. Should he lie about losing his job just like he lied about most things?
*
Phil’s subdivision sat hidden away in a peaceful middle-class suburb. The quad-level colonial he and Lana owned sat across from the lake located in the center of the subdivision. The view was immaculate, reminding Phil every day why they’d chosen to live there.
Phil pulled into the driveway behind Lana’s Jeep, thinking about his current situation, stuck between a rock and a hard place, a place he spent his life avoiding. For the first time in a long time, he had lost all control, exposing him to that insecure feeling he despised. Phil had to be careful about what to tell Lana about being let go. He definitely wasn’t going to tell her anything she didn’t need to know, which meant he had to lie. It would be easy to get her to believe he hadn’t lost his job. He’d say he left work early because he was still depressed over his dad’s death, and then he could take her out to lunch.
Yeah, that’ll work.
Phil was feeling confident about his decision or ‘quick fix’ as he liked to call it. By lying, he’d spare himself the dozens of why questions that would follow. But the truth infuriated him. It didn’t make any sense. Why was this happening?
Phil’s green eyes returned the glare as he peered into the rearview mirror, meditating about his current situation. The idea of Rob having control over the fate of his marriage made him furious. It was unacceptable, and he had to do something to make that known.
To Phil, he lived the perfect life. His beautiful wife of five years was a nurse who worked nights. This allowed Phil to use his charm and Rob’s money to explore and secretly feed his nymphomaniac tendencies. He got to be a hard-working husband to a beautiful nurse during the day and a sexual deviant at night, a life any man would love to have. He would do anything to maintain it, even if that meant lying to Lana yet again.
Upon finalizing his decision, Phil approached the brick colonial.
Phil opened the door and stumbled over a box that was sitting on the marble floor in the foyer.
“What the fuck?” he muttered as he pulled one of the flaps of the box up and peered inside. His heart dropped when he recognized the contents — some of his clothes.
Shit.
Phil gulped as his heart pounded intensely against his chest. He had to find out what Lana knew. Desperate and nervous, he called out, “Lana!”
Ther
e was no answer. The silence from where he stood in the foyer was eerie, making him more nervous. Was she ignoring him?
Phil climbed the stairs and entered the master bedroom. His eyes went to a mountain of clothes that lay piled on the king-sized bed — more of his clothes. He walked over to the oak dresser and pulled open his drawers; they were empty. He walked over to the walk-in closet and peered inside; Lana’s side was full, whereas his was empty.
The running shower in the master bathroom caught his attention, beckoning him to follow the sound. He found himself standing in front of the frosty shower door, hypnotized by Lana’s long, thin silhouette being caressed by the hot water. Though the shower door was foggy, Phil could make out her actions, which were getting him aroused. He watched as she tilted her head back under the showerhead, allowing the water to drench her face and long, dark hair. Phil slowly removed his polo shirt. Before he could remove his shoes and dress pants, Lana turned the shower off and opened the shower door.
“Oh my God, Phil!” Lana flinched and exclaimed. Her hazel eyes were red and puffy as they searched the bathroom, noticeably avoiding contact with him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Phil said, embarrassed as he pulled his polo back on.
Ignoring him, Lana exited the shower, grabbed a towel off the towel rack, and proceeded to dry herself.
Phil sensed she was upset, but as always, he had to be careful with his words. What did she know?
“Lana, what’s going on? Are you on a cleaning frenzy or something?” Phil asked softly as he zipped his pants back up. He watched as Lana walked out into the bedroom naked and retrieved a few pieces of clothing from her drawer, whimpering softly. Her beauty surprised Phil just then, her mocha-brown skin boasting all her hours spent in the tanning bed he’d gotten for her last year. Phil suddenly realized it had been a long time since he’d seen her this way, vulnerable and fragile.
“Lana, baby, what’s going on?” Phil asked again as he approached her.
“I hate you,” she snapped as she quickly slung on a pink-lace bra, facing away, still avoiding his eyes.
