“Yeah, well. You’ve got refuge in Malibu, right?”
Nothing. Not a single tell. My thirsty eyes drink him in, his reflection like a desert mirage. He looks every bit the man I met and married, yet…different, edgier maybe, his presence more menacing.
With no way to escape it, I face the consequences of my decision to be here head-on.
“Say it,” I bite out, my tone much sharper than intended. The jagged edges of the pain I’ve felt since we unraveled forcing the words out. He wants to hurt me. It’s so evident. “Just say it.”
He’s never been immature when we’ve fought, not really. All he’s ever truly done is allow his emotions to flow as they came. He’s been unyielding in that respect, and he’s not going to do it any differently now to spare me. But there isn’t a trace of the vulnerability I fell for in his eyes. Not a single hint of softness to be found inside the edges of his fury.
“I didn’t plan on being seen. I would never want to dampen this monumental night for you or your family. I don’t want us to hurt each other anymore.”
“Well, there’s a first,” he fronts, “you’re not really good at knowing what you want and keeping firm in your decisions. Then again, you say one thing and do another.”
“I’ve never changed my mind about you. I think about you, us, all the time.”
“Us doesn’t exist anymore. You made it so,” he says, closing in behind me, his warmth unbearably absent. Lifting his hand, he slowly slides his fingers along the number on my spine. My heart lurches against my ribcage, begging to be released. Swallowing, I free myself to love him without abandon in these seconds.
“Easton, I can’t go on like this, if you won’t talk—”
“You were a temporary high…and now you’re a stain.” He palms his chest, “That’s what you are to me now, Natalie, a fucking stain.”
I turn and grip his wrist, glaring up at him.
“You don’t get to take it back, not any of it,” I shake my head. “You don’t get to will your past with me away.”
“No, no, Beauty,” he grips my shoulders and turns me back toward the mirror. “You’re the one who put us back here. This is our reality now. You can tell yourself you can’t tonight before you fuck your superhero.”
I scoff. “And you’ve been faithful?”
“I’m a married man,” he declares, his tone acidic. I clutch the counter as he steps forward, caging me further while engulfing me in his wrath.
“We don’t have to hate each other,” I plea.
He tilts his head. “This truly was inevitable, wasn’t it? I just didn’t realize why it was. But now I see it. I see you.”
Fed up, I lash out. “You’ve done an amazing job painting me the villain in all this, Easton, but you’re so damned selfish and adamant on blaming me that you’ll never claim your part, will you? Even when I begged you to see how badly we would hurt everyone. Even after you assured me you wouldn’t force me to choose, or give up my career, that my relationships wouldn’t suffer—”
“So, this is you justifying divorcing me, then? Such a beautiful martyr,” he whispers darkly.
“You know, walking away would have been more convincing. Or have you forgotten I know you just as well. I see everything you’re not saying.”
“I know what I’m in for, Beauty. I’ve always known, and that’s why I fought so hard for you. But you’re still confused, just like you were the day we met, so let me help save you the mystery of your future reality,” he whispers, his tone unforgiving.
“Maybe you fuck him for the first time tonight, and while you do, you think of me the whole time. You’ll smile as he pulls out and make your way to the bathroom, feeling sick because you believed for a few minutes you could do it, you could escape me. While you scrub his cum from your body, maybe you resign yourself and entertain his idea of what you could be like as a couple because you need something, anything. So, you’ll play along because you don’t have a choice. Months will go by as you drown in delusion. Maybe you’ll adopt a puppy together and pose for the cameras to keep it going. They love you together, so you should too. Eventually, he’ll get down on one knee, and you’ll say yes because you feel obligated to, and you’ll think to yourself, ‘Why not?’ because you’ve come this far. You’ll plan an elaborate wedding and invite everyone who knows you to watch you lie your way through ‘I do,’ remembering the first time you said it and actually fucking meant it—but you threw that husband away. Before you know it, you’re making little superheroes to fill the void and later crying your way through the carpool, realizing you’re not living the life you wanted. The worst part? You won’t be confused as to why you’re empty. You’ll know why the whole time.”
He turns me to him and cups my face with a reverent palm as he presses in.
“See, Beauty, you’re part villain now.” Hot tears glide down my cheeks as he brushes one away with a soothing thumb. “That’s my stain on you. I’m in your skin, in the blood that flows through your veins…and we all know a villain can’t make it with a superhero.”
“And your future?” I rasp out, his gentle touch driving the dagger further into my heart.
“I’ve got all this sickness running through me to use to my advantage,” he says softly, “feels like fuel for a long fucking career. At least I have that, right?”
“Well then, I guess I feel sorry for the women you bed.”
“Don’t. You know how generous I can be.”
My palm itches to slap him as I glare back up at him while his eyes batter me with deep-seated resentment. I lift my chin.
“I didn’t throw you away, Easton. You stopped listening to me. You gave up on me.”
“You gave me every reason to.”
Hurt leaks into his timbre as he runs a gentle thumb down the side of my face. “You see, you got the vows twisted, my beautiful wife. You were supposed to forsake all others for me,” his voice cracks with his admission, and I die at the sound of it.
“I’ve been faithful.” I grip his T-shirt in my fist, hot agony sliding down my face as his warmth surrounds me. “Easton, I—”
“Shhhh, Beauty, go back to sleep,” he whispers, completely dismissing my every word while lowering his thumb and aggressively smearing the lipstick across my jaw, a blatant attempt to erase Tye’s kiss. As he does it, I see his eyes flit with a thousand emotions. With one last swipe of his thumb, he leans in, his kiss feeling every bit the kiss of death he intends it to be. A pained grunt leaves him as he releases my hands from his T-shirt before ripping away from me abruptly.
I keep my eyes closed, voice breaking as I repeat the truth. “I’ve been faithful.”
Drive
Sixx:AM
Natalie
Twelve to fifteen minutes. That’s the length of the average halftime show. Though my hopes are that the Sergeants will take the former as the Cowboys retreat from the field with a fourteen-point lead.
Twelve minutes of hell is what awaits my father and me as the stadium staff scrambles below to set the stage for the halftime show. Thankful for the Dutch courage flowing through me and the slight ease it brings, I decline to sip my newly refilled beer. Though buzzed, I’m still painfully present. There’s no remedy for the grief currently running through me in any form.
“You were a temporary high.”
If Easton hadn’t annihilated me with his vicious retaliation in that bathroom—if we hadn’t run into each other, I’d be somewhere near the vicinity of okay. But as the teams disappear from the field and the stadium begins to shake with renewed energy for what’s to come, I know the true test of the night lies in the grueling minutes ahead.
Twelve to fifteen minutes.