by Jolie Day
He turned his head toward me, saying nothing.
I hoped I wasn’t stepping on toes. I said, “The one with the roses and barbed wire, for example.”
He sat and contemplated my question, putting his drink down. “Hmm. I might as well tell you. We are living together, after all.”
“Oh? So there is a story? I’m sorry, Miles, you really don’t have to tell me—”
“No, no, it’s okay.”
“Okay,” I said, then kept quiet to give him the floor.
“Have you ever been cheated on?” he asked.
The direct question surprised me. It wasn’t at all what I’d expected. “No, I haven’t,” I said.
“You haven’t? You’re lucky.”
“But I’m certain it’d affect me a lot, trust issues and such. I saw Juliette go through it, and she suffered a lot. How about you?”
“I was cheated on. And it has repercussions which affect you. For no matter how much time goes by. It breaks you inside. I don’t ever want to put someone through that.” His eyes turned dark.
“What happened?”
“When I was a freshman, I had a girlfriend.”
I tensed up slightly, unsure why. I couldn’t be jealous of a girl from years ago, right? Or the fact that he was open to having a girlfriend then. I threw those thoughts from my mind when he carried on.
“And I loved her.” He was sitting, staring straight ahead out at the city. “A lot. But I caught her, in flagrante delicto as they say, red-handed.”
I gasped.
“With Jake, my best friend.”
“Oh no!” My hand jumped to my mouth.
“Oh yes,” he said, chuckling darkly. “I walked in on them going at it in her dorm room.”
“That’s horrible, Miles, I’m so sorry.”
“After seeing that, I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t trust another woman again, and that I wouldn’t do relationships and love and all that. That romance was a bunch of BS. That freedom was more important to me than love. Always.” He waved his hand in the air dismissively. “I’ve been through a lot of ups and downs in life, but when you hit rock bottom, somebody breaks your heart, it’s the hardest shit to go through.”
“I understand.”
He put up his hand. “That’s not it. I’m getting to it.”
“Oh. Okay, sorry. Please continue.”
“My so-called friend and some of his asshole buddies jumped me soon afterwards.” I saw his Adam’s apple bob.
“What? Why?”
“Making it out to be my fault. Probably scared I’d seek revenge or wait up with a surprise. Trying to beat me to it, I guess. Scare me. The motherfuckers had knives.”
I gasped, louder than before. “What?”
Miles shook his head at himself, his eyes dark. He was talking down to his lap now, clenching his fist on the table. I hardly recognized him. I felt horribly sad for him. It sounded like a truly traumatic experience.
“But it was the baseball bat that did the most damage. They ended up hitting me in the head pretty hard. Diagnosis: brain injury and an eye injury from the blow to my already maltreated temple, from the fight I’d had earlier with Jake—plus a dislocated shoulder, and a few stab wounds.”
“Oh my God.” My breath caught in my throat, while my heart just about stopped.
That’s where the scars came from.
28
MILES
“I had a bad feeling that day,” I growled. “My instincts told me something was off. I didn’t listen to my gut. That’s why I’ve got this wolf fellow on my back.” I gestured to my back. “He’s not here to cover any of the scars. He’s here to help me make better decisions in the future.”
I saw her nod. “He better.”
“Yeah, he better. Damon rescued me,” I continued, “I owe him my life. He went in, didn’t even hesitate. Got a few stab wounds and scratches himself.”
“But nothing like you?”
“Nah, they ran off,” I said, shoving a hand through my hair. It was a mess.
“I spent a few months in the hospital,” I sighed. “Had to undergo multiple surgeries. Ultimately, it was that crack with the baseball bat, here on my temple,” I pointed to the scar on my head, “that was the worst injury. I’ll never forget how I repeated the same question three times in the neurologist’s office, after he described the damage. I wanted to know if my brain was affected, even though I was dreading hearing the answer. I was staring at the monitor and seeing this ugly gray scan of what looked like a walnut. His answer was the same every time I asked. Yes. My brain was affected.”
She gasped.
I paused, then said, “Look, I never talk about this. Damon knows, but nobody else.” It was the truth. I didn’t like talking about this shit, especially after so long.
“Why not? I mean, why don’t you talk about it? Don’t you think it would help you to, you know, get over it?”
“No. Because: why? I’m not busy giving people ammo. A billionaire who has been hit on the head one too many times is a fucking joke. He’s a target. I’m pretty easygoing, but I’m not that easygoing. Rose, I’m trying to forget this shit. I don’t need help. It was a dark time. I’m good, now.”
“Okay. Sorry…but I don’t think people would make fun of you if they knew—”
“You don’t know people well.” I paused. “I’m sorry, Rose. Obviously, that was a pretty hard time for me, after the shit I’d gone through. Did it weigh heavily on me? Yeah. But hey, I’m not a person who lives with regret. The past is the past. I just don’t see the point. It helped and made me the man I am today.” I tried a smile, but only managed a rueful half-smile. “I don’t want your pity. Not anybody’s pity really, or such shit.”
“I get it,” she nodded. “But can I ask one more thing…”
“Sure.” I leaned back.
“What exactly did go through your mind at that time?” she whispered.
I was surprised at her question. It was a good question.
I took a moment to think about it. “You hear people talk about when they realize that they’re not invincible. It happened to me in one moment. That instant I felt the bat hit my head.” I snapped my finger. “Damon told me that I shouldn’t fucking bullshit myself. He told me that I’d never be the Miles I was before. That I’d live and conduct my life differently, because I went through that experience. He told me I would heal, though. He told me: I will be back. ‘I’ll be back.’”
I made the last line sound like the catchphrase from “The Terminator,” in another weak-ass attempt to make light of the situation. It worked, at least a bit.
She smiled, nodding, listening, as I continued. “Soon I understood, the more grudges you hold the more they’ll hold you down. The only way to elevate yourself is let go of any stress, or anxiety, or hate, you feel toward anybody else. It’s easier said than done. Especially when you’re dead inside. Trust me.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“The right thing is to move on, and that’s what I’m trying. To this day. But, as I lay there in that hospital, day after day, missing out on everything that Oliver, Damon, and my other friends were doing, I realized that wallowing in self-pity wouldn’t help me. I didn’t want to have my dreams go to shit. So, with all my pent-up emotion, I began doing things: sailing, riding motorcycles, skiing, hiking, going to festivals and clubs. Anything that was adventurous and fun, I’d do it to make up for the time I spent lying in bed.”
She remained silent, her eyes still affected.
“And I guess,” I continued, “after a while, it just became the way I lived my life. Combined with my vow to never love again, it became a busy lifestyle.” I tried to give her a smile, breathing out slowly, deflating, and finishing my story. “Anyway, the other tattoos basically tell a story of some of the adventures.”
“Wow,” she said softly. “Quite the story, huh?” she tried a light tone, and I was glad she did. “What ever happened to the guy?”
“Prison. H
eard they stabbed him, there. He died a few months in. Karma’s a bitch.”
“And the girl?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t give two shits.”
“I’m sorry, Miles. I really am.”
“Don’t be. I told you. I’m perfectly fine. Everybody gets at least one shitty card in life. Everybody. Nobody gets spared. It’s like some fucked up rule.” I turned in my seat to face her, ready to change the subject. “At least I’ve got a giant cock.” I grinned.
She looked at me, disbelieving that I’d just said that. “You have something much, much better.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“You have a great fake fiancée. The best.” She was trying a full-on smile now.
“The best,” I agreed.
Our eyes met. Overwhelmed by the light in her eyes, I felt my heart stutter. The way she looked at me, so full of tenderness and hope, made something snap inside me, leaving my brain without sense. I felt my stomach clench, and I adjusted my seat.
It was all wrong. And it was all new.
I realized she’d shattered the walls around my heart.
And that was new fucking territory.
29
ROSE
I sat in stunned silence.
I’d asked for a reason, and heck, he’d given me one.
I wasn’t sure what to say. I just stared into his eyes. I saw him in a whole different light. He was no longer a jerk whom I defined by his mindless actions. He was a broken soul who’d never actually known true love. Except the love of his family and a true friend.
He still hoped for love, I knew that deep inside my heart.
“All right, your turn,” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“It’s your turn to tell me more about yourself.”
“But I’m not an adrenaline junkie,” I said. “I have no tattoos. Or scars.”
“I know,” he looked at me, raising and dropping his eyebrows in a cute way, just once. I knew what he meant. He’d seen me naked. He knew, of course, that I didn’t have any. Just a small scar on my left finger when I tried to open a bag of sugar (don’t ask).
“And all I say will be totally lame compared to your story. I’m not impulsive. Not the impromptu kind of gal, as you know.”
“Oh, I know.”
“Except that one time.”
He gave me a questioning nod with his head.
“It was for work. A project in the UK. I just packed my bags and left. I didn’t think twice. I was gone for several months! I hope there will be more such opportunities in the future… I’d love to go again. I had a great neighbor, old Mrs. Loughty. She was lovely. We still keep in contact once in a while. She keeps inviting me to come back.”
“You’re a true workaholic,” he said. “Why do you push everyone away?”
I gaped at him, surprised. “I’m not pushing people away.”
“You have no family. You were living alone. And as far as I can see, you only have one real friend. So, what’s your story?”
I stared at him with my mouth slightly open, thinking I had a quick and quirky answer for him, but I didn’t. I closed my mouth again and sat back in my seat, contemplating my past.
“Just because I’m reserved, live alone, and don’t have hundreds of friends doesn’t mean I push everyone away,” I said. “Hmm. I guess I’m really careful.”
“Meaning?”
“Okay… um. Well, you know my mom died when I was small, and that I grew up with my dad.”
Miles nodded. “Yeah.”
“I had no siblings or cousins,” I said, “no one to play with when I wasn’t at school. So, I’d find ways to keep myself busy. Let me tell you, I loved reading books, lots and lots of books. I still like reading, to this day. I usually read before bed. Mostly fantasy or Sci-Fi. But I also love non-fiction books about astronomy. I’m fascinated by the beauty and endlessness of the universe.” I chuckled, thinking about the row of books in my room. Miles listened, letting me get it all out. “I spent hours or days with just a nanny around. They were typically quite strict, but never mean, all older ladies who’d prefer that I do my homework, then read, or watch TV with them. So I did. Except for one nanny, Meryl. She loved to bake, and she was kinda quirky.”
“Why only older nannies?”
“Dad loved Mom very much. I think that since I didn’t have a mother, he wanted to give me at least some kind of grandmother. Hiring a nanny as old as Mom, I think he couldn’t bring himself to do that.”
“Makes sense. Did you watch old movies with your nannies?”
“Yes, sometimes. Not always, of course. But I guess that’s where my appreciation for older movies comes from. Sometimes we listened to music. But with my baking-nanny we mostly watched baking shows. I picked a lot of things up that way, even though I hardly make time for baking these days. I have a killer brownie recipe, but I already told you that. It’s a secret recipe from Meryl. Vegan and yummmmy.”
“What about your dad?” he asked.
“My dad traveled a lot. I loved him—always did and always will. But let’s just say he missed more than a few birthdays. He brought me a cat when I was young. A male marmalade tabby cat. I named him ‘Orangey,’ inspired by the real name of the cat in my favorite movie, you know which one.”
He gave me a sweet smile and a nod. “I know which one.”
“He meant the world to me, since I found it hard to make friends. For them, I was just a weird rich kid with an orange cat with the red face who had no friends and liked old movies. They didn’t understand that I hated my hairdo or my clothes—except for Juliette who came later into my life. So, I just never threw parties. I never invited them over.”
“Except for Juliette.”
“She helped me stand up to the mean girls. I figure it’s not the quantity of friends, but the quality. I’d rather have one true friend than a hundred fake ones. I don’t open up or trust people easily, I guess.”
“I get your point. I agree one hundred percent.”
“Besides, not a lot of men could put up with my awesomeness and that of little Princess Muffin. Not all men like cats, right?” I said, winking at him, needling him. “Or the fact that I don’t go out very often. Or that I’m not a party-girl. Or that I actually love my work.” I smiled at him, trying to steer the conversation to happier grounds. I knew Miles appreciated a round of good teasing. “Instead of being madly miserable, I want to be madly happy. That’s my goal. Who needs guys, right?”
“Right.” He took in a deep breath before he spoke, back to being more serious. “That’s rough, Rose. But I guess I understand not trusting people. I understand loneliness. Who needs love and romance, right?” His eyes caught mine. “It might surprise you, but I do know what it’s like to come home to an empty apartment.”
“But not anymore!” I joked with him, and the corner of his mouth lifted immediately.
“Nope. Not anymore.”
“So, you like it?”
“I don’t like it.” He shook his head.
“Oh.”
“I love it.”
“Me, too.”
Aww. That was such a sweet, tender moment between Miles and me.
“Speaking of, we had plans to watch ‘The Gladiator’ tonight.” He raised his eyebrows at me, and I laughed.
“Yes, yes. Let’s go make dinner. Let’s bake some brownies, and then we’ll put it on, all right?” I asked, already getting up.
“All right.” His voice was quiet, soft, perhaps contemplative. We’d had quite the emotional chat today, and I felt we’d had enough.
It was time to get the playful Miles back.
“Come on,” I messed up his hair (even more) as I walked past him, making him look even hotter. Like he’d just woken up.
“Yep. A little white princess wants her dinner.” I heard him say before standing and following me inside, Daisy swirling around his legs excitedly. In a cute cat-voice, he pretended to be Daisy: “I don’t want to alarm any
one…but I haven’t had a snack in ten minutes…meow… uh…hello, humans?…Snack, anyone?”
He was such a goofball. My heart skipped a beat at the cuteness of both of them and how much they’d bonded.
30
ROSE
Later that week, on Friday, we’d both gotten home from work tired, but happy. The whole campaign had been officially approved by my boss. So much so that he asked me to oversee the launch in the UK in a few months, if I wanted! On site! How cool was that? I’d just mentioned it to Miles the other day! It’d always been a wish of mine to return to the UK—one day, at least—for a visit. I’d loved my time there. British people were the loveliest people, and I loved the British humor. Not knowing the exact date, and still being in a contract situation with Miles, I told my boss I’d think about it. There was still plenty of time. Luckily, it wasn’t something I needed to decide any time soon.
What I did decide was that tonight I’d watch more movies on that couch. It was an insanely comfortable couch, and hell, I’d sleep there all night if I felt like it. I changed clothes in my bedroom, slipping from my professional outfit and into my leggings with a camisole and a baggy sweater. Running my hands through my hair, I loosened the styled curls and let my hair hang freely.
I grabbed my phone and saw that Mr. Sanford had left me a message, telling me that he had some interesting news. When I called back, his office was empty, so I decided to give him a call next week. Before heading out to the lounge, I sat down and texted Juliette to let her know the good news. She’d been out of town visiting her sister, who’d just had a baby. Catching up with her was always fun, and we made an effort to keep each other up to date as best as we could. Still, I missed her and needed to hear how she was doing.
Rose: Hey, Jules! You still surviving over there?
Juliette: Rosey!!! God, I miss you so much! Yes, I am surviving.
Juliette sent a photo of a tiny baby boy, sleeping in her arm.
