| |
Present
Ace
“Mom? What’re you doing?” My voice titters. It’s nervous and even gentler than normal.
When Mom gets caught up in a manic episode, she takes risks. She tried killing herself on her last one. That’s the last time I can remember her being manic and happy.
Right now, she’s cooking breakfast, wearing bright colors, and humming. This can’t be good. She ignores her mental health like it’s a phase and not a life sentence.
“What do you mean? I’m cooking you breakfast.” She stares at me like I’ve grown two heads, like she didn’t have an episode last night and shut down.
“How are you feeling?”
“Refreshed,” she responds almost too quickly.
“So, last night... Can we talk about it?” I push, hoping she can remember.
“It was nothing,” she says, completely blowing it off.
“No, Mom,” I argue. “It’s not okay. I had to see you close me off again, had to see you break down and let Nate and Dad fight.”
“Nate and your dad fought?” she asks, not answering anything else.
She dries her hands then comes closer to me. Her eyes seem clear. They don’t look ghosted like last night.
“What happened last night?” she prods, placing her hand on my chin, cupping it.
That’s the problem, isn’t it? The fact that she can’t recall anything proves what I already know.
He broke her.
“Nate told you something while Dad, Jazzy, and I were inside. You freaked out. We all came out. Dad and Nate fought, and I kicked them out.”
“Your sister?” she inquires, hanging on her whereabouts.
“She’s with Grandma.”
“And you? How’re you?” She pulls me into a hug, checking over my face and body. “I’m sorry,” she says.
It’s her normal response. She thinks she can help that she shuts down, but it’s not her fault. It’s their fault, and they should be the ones apologizing.
“Don’t beat yourself up, Mom. Please,” I plead, holding her. “Do you remember what he told you? What set you off?”
She quivers, her body softly vibrating. “Yes,” she answers, her voice barely a whisper. She sounds so fragile and young, like she’s my age, and I’m her protector. That’s not how this is supposed to work. I’m just a kid.
“What happened?” I beg, needing to know if it’s something I can ease, needing to know if I can help her be better.
“H-he just told m-me something I didn’t w-want to hear,” she stammers.
Her body feels deteriorated, completely exhausted, as she puts all her weight into me. I want to mend her scars. I want to hurt everyone for hurting her, starting with Dad and Aunt El.
“How can I fix it? How can I fix you, Mom?” I implore, trying not to break down while holding her together.
“I just need to fight back,” she answers.
I shudder. Fight back? Fight back how? Confusion overtakes me. What is she fighting for?
“Mom?” I don’t know what to ask or how, but I need answers.
“You’ll see. I’m going to fix this,” she utters.
The absoluteness in her voice has me more confused than her mania ever has.
She finally pulls back, her height only barely shorter than mine. Standing on her tippy toes, she kisses my forehead. “I will fix this, Ace. I won’t let you and Jazzy down anymore.”
I just nod. This entire morning has messed with my sanity enough, and whatever she has planned is for her to know and apparently for me to find out when it happens.
“Let’s get you to your Grandma’s, hmm?”
“Why?” She knows I’m old enough to stay at home. She doesn’t need to babysit me.
“I have stuff to handle, and I need you to be safe. I love you, Ace. I really do.”
“I love you, too,” I respond, feeling defeated and too exhausted to argue.
“Let’s eat, and head out?”
“Sure.”
If I thought I could make myself stress less and just let things be, I’m stupid. In the past few years, I’ve become vigilant on Mom’s behavior, and overwhelm myself way more about everything than I should. But I’d rather be aware than be stuck in a stupor like her.
Let’s hope I’m wrong, and she’s fine.
Lo
I’m not okay.
But for them, I will be.
Brave face and all, whatever it takes.
I’m clouded, yes. The happiness is all for show, but I’m not allowing this to ruin me. I’ll go back to therapy. Something I should have done after calling it quits the first time. Maybe Jase’s therapist would be a good fit? Unless he fucked her too?
As soon as my head is on straight, I’m asking Jase for a divorce, and then, I’m finding my way back to the Loren who graduated with a Master’s in Culinary Arts, a woman who loved her kids fiercely and put them above everything else, and one who loved herself and what she stood for. Who picked the love of her children above the love of her fears.
She deserves a champion, one who’ll fight for her.
After forcing Ace to eat, I shovel down some bacon like it’s my last meal, and we head to Millie’s. When we get there, Jase isn’t around, and though it should surprise me, it doesn’t. I don’t want to know where he is, and I refuse to let the negativity and insecurities own me today.
“Is everything okay with you and Jason?” Millie questions, her eyes full of anxiety. Millie and I have been close for years. Even before my mom died, she was here for me. She and Jase have a strange relationship, but it has never stilted our bond or stopped it from growing.
“Yeah, Mom. Just going through a rough patch,” I lie. I’m sure she can see through it, see the pain in my eyes, see the emptiness in my voice. She’s been through this, twice.
“I won’t prod, Loren, but I do care,” she vocalizes her worries. “You’re my daughter, my friend, and I hate seeing you suffer alone.”
She watches me. She knows everything. Not about Jase cheating but about my shutting down, my losses, and how hard it’s been. Through it all, she’s been an angel. She watches the children. She always talks when I need it, and if I call, she always answers.
She’d never replace my mom, but she’s here for me just like mine was.
“I love you. Don’t ever doubt that,” she assures, bringing me in for a hug. “No matter what happens.”
I whimper, tears breaking through. She holds me as I let go for a moment and give into the pain. She holds all my pieces together with her words.
“I love you, too.”
After about ten minutes of me mumbling about how much pain I’m in, she peppers kisses across my cheeks, telling me that she’s not going anywhere. Jazzy toddles over, her dress even more frayed than a few days ago. She twirls, her face full of happiness and smiles. I wish it was that easy for me. To push away the hatred and disgust in myself and be carefree.
“Mama,” she says, tapping Millie’s lap. “Come play!” Millie’s eyes light up with joy, her face breaks out in delight as she watches Jaz tug on her sweater.
“No hug for Mommy?” I request, wanting to kiss her and make her forget last night. Maybe she already has. She sticks her tongue out at me, making a funny face, and I laugh at her adorableness. After she dances for a moment, she comes to me, giving me a hug. Before I get the chance to kiss her, she’s leaving a big wet one on my cheek.
“I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you too, baby” Jumping around once again, she begs Millie to play, and she gives in, tending to Jazzy and her princess obsession.
“Mom?” Ace requests, tapping my shoulder.
“What is it?” I press.
“Don’t let him off for this. He doesn’t deserve for you to be kind and forgiving like always. You always let his behavior slide out of guilt, but don’t do it over this.”
It hits me then, seeing his anger and resentment. He knows, and he’s nowhere near on his father’s side. I never wanted him involved. He’s our baby. He shouldn’t have to choose a side. It’s not a place any kid should be in.
“Okay, baby.”
“I mean it, Mom. Don’t brush this off,” he implores, his eyes devastated in every sense of the word. I’ve never seen his shoulders this stiff, his back so hunched, all fueled by animosity.
“I love you, Ace. If I can do anything, I’d want to make you not have a tainted view on love. I did at your age, and it led me to pain.”
“At least if you were wary, you’d have been saved from his betrayal.”
“But I wouldn’t have you,” I push, hoping he’ll see everything happens for a reason. If this pain only brought me him and Jazzy, it would be worth every tear.
“Maybe it’d be better if you didn’t,” he bites, narrowing his eyes at me.
His anger breaks a piece of me. He’s going to be an angry person who hates the thought of love. Instead of jaded, he’ll be soaking up hatred, thriving on the hopelessness I’ve created.
I pull him into a hug, needing to give him any sort of comfort.
“My life wouldn’t be a life worth living without you guys. You’re my entire world.” I kiss his cheek, squeezing him tighter. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“For us, don’t forgive him.” Those are the last words he gets out before walking away from me. He’s so much like his father in that sense. He’s even like me when it comes to how strongly we feel, but he’s stubborn as hell like Jase.
I stop by the guest room, kissing Jazzy on the forehead. Then, I leave to get a bottle of Moscato and a movie for a night with my best friend. The non-cheating one, that is.
*****
“TOBE!” I CALL OUT, carrying the junk food and wine into his kitchen. “Tobias!”
He doesn’t say a word, and if I hadn’t already experienced death in my life, I probably wouldn’t panic, but I do.
I set everything down on the counter and run from room to room without finding him. His car is parked outside, so he’s here. He has to be.
Running?
Tobe and I always ran and did yoga together, and though I haven’t been in weeks, he must be keeping to the routine. He’s habitual, always strict on his day-to-day schedule. As I’m putting my shoes back on, I hear grunts. I head to the back through his sliding door and am stopped short by hormones.
Tobe has a home gym outside. It’s inside a zipped canopy-type gazebo for when it rains and for after he’s done using it. Right now, in the brightness of day, it’s bare, just like he is, in only gym shorts, ones that sit low on his hips.
He’s doing a full dead hang pull-up. His arms are fully extended above his head, which means he won’t use any momentum to pull himself up. It’s all muscle. With strength I only wish I had, his arms tighten, forcing his body upward. His chest flexes along with the rest of him, and I’m stuck in awe. I’ve seen Toby many times in a workout tank and cut off shirts, but never entirely shirtless like this. At least, not since we were teens.
He’s much larger now. Actually, he’s huge. Usually, he’s dressed up so much that he just looks like a businessman, even when at my house. Right now, looking at his huge shoulders, narrow hips, and thick thighs, I’m stuck wondering how to breathe. I’ve never really let my eyes wander, never let myself look at him as anything other than my friend and my husband’s brother. Right now, though, I’m having a hard time not drooling.
Tobe’s dripping sweat. This must be what he decided to do after a run. My eyes can’t look elsewhere as the droplets trail down his chest, toward his waistline. Jesus. Stop. His arms strain with each pull-up, he grumbles from the exertion, and my eyes strain with watching him unabashedly.
“Just going to stare, Sparkle?” he teases, his voice raspy and out of breath.
“I-I wasn’t staring,” I stutter, trying to keep my voice light rather than breathy. Sweat lines the crown of my head, and my hands clam up from the lie.
He hops down, his entire body glistening with the motion, and still, I watch like a ravenous woman. I shouldn’t.
Tobe sidles up to me, his hips moving deliciously with each step. He walks with confidence. He demands the attention of the entire room, yet we’re outside, and it’s only me and him.
When he reaches me, I’m sure I’m still blushing every shade of pink. I’m worried if I talk, it’ll be as messy as the heart palpitating in my chest.
My husband just told me he’s cheating on me with Ellie no less. Yet, here I am, drooling over his brother... my best friend.
His left palm rests on my cheek, while his right cups my jaw. This is too intimate, too much. His thumb traces my jaw—soft, sweet, and wrong. So fucking wrong.
I don’t push him away, I don’t even hesitate or flinch when his thumb strokes my lips or when I lick his thumb, tasting his salty manliness.
Fuck.
Walk away.
Walk the fuck away.
“M-maybe we should—”
He stops me with the force of his lips crushing my mouth. This time, I don’t have to remind myself how awkward this is. I fall into it. I accept the difference. I allow the feeling of the unlawfulness.
Maybe it’s the fact that it’s Ellie that Jase fucked.
Maybe it’s the fact that it lasted for so long.
Or perhaps, it was Nate coming home, or the news of a baby.
Either way, I’m letting this mistake consume me because whether two wrongs make a right or not, I deserve a selfish moment. It’s a moment I’ll more than likely regret but a moment that’s only mine.
Toby’s chest presses against mine. Wrong. The heat is comfortable, strong, and sensual in every way. But still wrong.
His tongue strokes against my bottom lip, and I give him entrance. Bad, bad, bad. When our tongues meet, it’s a collision of justifiable and dangerously unsung. It’s deliriously good but recklessly bad, beautifully damaged but perfectly curing.
But even with all the conflicting emotions involved, I don’t falter. I can’t stop, and I sure as hell don’t want to.
He lifts me, his palms cupping my ass under my peach dress, the same one Jase loves, the same one that makes Jase smile, the same one that made him call me Peaches all those years ago. Now, I’m tainting it with unloving lips and unfaithful touches. It’s a metaphorical fuck you to the man who took everything from me.
The man my love still burns for.
He holds the key.
He also imprisons the lock.
He ignites me with emotions no one else can.
He also extinguishes them with his lies.
He ruins me.
He fixes me, too.
He ruined us.
I ruined us, too.
Jase Collins devastates the ground I walk upon.
And yet, I still love him.
With each kiss Tobe and I share while he carries me to the pool house is a confession, a dirty, lustful one full of longing and desperation, insecurity and unity, betrayal and absolution, bad and even worse.
I should stop. I should stop him—this—us.
We shouldn’t do this, but Jason and Ellie shouldn’t have either.
With her stupid face plastered in my mind from all the times I cried and told her about my worries of Jase cheating and her being the bitch who was with him the entire time, I kiss Toby back.
Her face kissing Jase’s has me biting Toby’s lips like he’s the betrayer. He doesn’t see it as resentment but lust, and I don’t correct him.
With Jase and her in my mind fucking and ruining every trust I had for them, I try and erase it. It feels dirty. It feels disgustingly inappropriate, yet I can’t stop.
When he lays me on the counter, sliding my dress up, I whimper. Not the whimper he imagines, though. It’s more from a part of my soul dying, but it sounds close enough.
“Tell me to stop, Sparkle, and I will. We don’t have to go further.” He kisses my ankle, his lips and scruff sending chills up my body. “But if you let me go ahead, I swear I won’t be able to stop. I’ll fuck you like I’ve always wanted, and I won’t regret a damn second. This isn’t my choice to make, and I won’t take that away from you.”
How can he do that? Be a gentleman all while being a sinful dishonorable brother?
Say no.
Don’t do this.
I’m so turned on yet disgusted with my actions at the same time.
Did Jase feel this vile and evil? Kiss to my calf.
Did he second-guess sticking his dick into her? Kiss to my inner knees.
How Ellie and I spent days at a time together while she was boning my husband? Kiss to my hips.
How I babysat Gray almost daily while they were probably fucking behind my back? Kiss to the apex of my thighs.
Did he question how I’d feel or what fucking someone else would do to us? Kiss to my panty-clad pussy.
How could he touch me after that? Pretend to love me? Sleep with me when he was with her instead? Nip to my clit through my panties.
I hate him.
So as Toby’s mouth grinds over me, making me cry out, I try to shove the doubt away, but after my body hums with an impending orgasm, I stop him.
I see Jase between my legs. I see my husband clutching my thighs, and when Tobe’s face is there, it freaks me out.
“I-I can’t.” I tremble with the words.
Instead of disappointment and anger, he pulls me to the bed in the middle of the room. He lays down on it, his gray gym shorts tented. I’m blushing from the size of that tent and what I’d do to it if a ring wasn’t on my finger, if vows weren’t holding me hostage to a faithless man.
“Come here, Sparkle,” he murmurs, his voice scratchy, like he’s barely holding in his hunger. It drives me insane, knowing that I turn him on this much, that he wants me this much.
I slowly pad over to the bed, my legs on either side of him. His hands grip my hips, hauling me to straddle his lap. I feel him beneath me, trapped between my legs with very little barrier.
“I r-really don’t think this is a good idea, Tobias.”
His eyes find mine, gauging my emotions like he always does. “Ride my face,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine.
He’s serious, his face not nervous nor is it guilty, just desperate. But me? I’m squirming. The brazenness of that suggestion has me wetter but also has me feeling even guiltier.
“What?” I panic.
“Put each of those creamy thighs over my face and let me eat your pussy.”
My mouth hangs open. He’s not joking. It would solve my problem of seeing Jase each time too. I need to stop thinking too much, stop wondering if this makes me as bad as him.
He smirks at me, licking his bottom lip. His fingers dig into my hips, trying to make me pay attention, but my gaze is hindered by the ring on my left finger, the one that tied me to promises that I still believe in, ones that Jase broke.
Tobe must see my deterrence because he proceeds to lift my hand to his lips, kissing it. My eyes close in vulnerability of allowing him to kiss a hand that’s his brother’s. His mouth is so warm and gentle, and when he slides the ring off me, I still.
My eyes open, my uneasiness palpable. That ring is my guard, my safety net, my shackle. I’ve never taken it off. Not for anything.
“Sparkle,” Toby reassures, his voice kind and caring like the best friend I know. “When this ring is off, he’s not here. When it’s gone, it’s just you and me, okay?”
I start shaking. Maybe it’s from fear or the realization of my marriage culminating, but it takes over my body. My legs squeeze his hips, trying to stay afloat in the misery of my mind.
Gathering all the strength I’m sure isn’t real, I nod. His smile is wide and grateful. He places the ring in the nightstand drawer, making me move with him as his body twists. He brings my face down to his, his mouth teasing mine.
He tastes of sweat, sin, and the worst decisions I’ll ever make, but he smells so manly and musky, and I want to give in. I want everything he offers, even the love I craved and begged for from my husband.
He’s been here while Jase was running rampant between Ellie’s legs. He’s consoled me while Jase fucked her without condoms. He has stayed while Jase walked away.
He’s my best friend, and after today, I’m not sure if we’ll be the same. Right now, that’s the last thing on my mind. It’s my last worry, my last confession, my last promise broken.
I kiss him back, and I block out the fact that his body is different, that his lips don’t taste the same. Even his hands feel different, and his touch feels foreign. I try to shut out that his chest is still soaked in sweat and bare, that his dick is rubbing against me with every rock of my hips.
But even while it feels wrong, I admit that it’s nice to be wanted and desired. It’s nice to feel a man beneath me, one who wants only me. Who won’t betray my love. Won’t break my heart. Won’t shatter my soul.
His hands grip my thighs again, lifting me up his body, and I help him. I’m still fully dressed, my peach dress billowing around him. When I reach his upper chest, I freeze momentarily before he hauls me above his mouth. His breath is hot on my center, his hands making their way to my panties.
No words are spoken as he slides them to the side, his tongue flattening on my core. I moan immediately, unable to hold in the sounds of pleasure. His tongue strokes me, his stubble abrasive to my ass in the sweetest way. The sounds of him grunting mix with my groans of rapture, and I can’t help the way my hips shift with desperation.
He squeezes my ass with his hands, bringing me closer to him while he eats me ferociously. I lean back, using my hands to hold me. Toby leans with me, bringing his neck and face forward, and I reach for his cock and bring it loose. I feel the velvety skin and shudder. To have a man beneath me while I have all the control of the outcome is intoxicating.
Bracing myself on my left hand, still getting licked by him, I grab him with my right hand. As I jack him up and down, he twitches and growls. It’s sexy, knowing I’m getting him off this way, making him needy for me.
He continues his assault on my pussy, and I buck every time he penetrates me with his tongue. I smooth my thumb over his tip, still unable to see him, and feel his precum. Swirling it around him, I imagine putting it into my mouth, using my tongue instead of my fingers.
With that visual in mind, my orgasm slices through me, and I’m crying out. I can’t say his name, can’t utter my betrayal out loud, but I moan loudly, hoping it’s enough.
“Fuck,” he husks, his voice deeper, barely a whisper. “Fuck, Sparkle. I don’t have any words.” He slides me down, and I’m forced to let go of him. He readjusts me, making it so he’s sitting up and I’m on his lap.
He takes my mouth like he just did moments ago when he took my cunt. I taste myself, a tangy saltiness that has me wanting more of him.
More of this.
More of us.
He reaches behind him, pulling out a condom from the nightstand.
Shit. I’m really doing this.
“I’m scared, too,” he whispers in my ear, making me relax. He knows. He actually feels what I’m feeling. “I love you, Sparkle. I will even when I know it’s not me.”
“T-Toby,” I mumble, my chin wobbling.
“Shh, baby. I got you,” he encourages, kissing my doubt away.
Toby lifts me, laying me beneath him. His hands trace up my thighs, reaching my hips. He hooks his thumbs under the material, taking my panties, pulling them down slowly. All the while, his gaze never leaves mine.
There’s so much certainty and awe in his eyes. There’s understanding and kindness. There’s zero judgement and zero guilt. It’s all Toby, only Toby, and I’m ready.
He smooths his palms up and down my thighs, his smile making me feel like a teen all over again.
“You okay, Sparkle?”
I nod, observing as he opens the condom package. When he reaches down to sheath it on himself, I finally see his cock. My surprise makes him chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He’s big, but I’m not scared. I’m finally ready. He rolls the condom on slowly, and I watch as it rolls over each throbbing vein in equal succession. My breathing accelerates again, my chest rising and falling with too many emotions to list.
He leans forward, his eyes boring into mine, showing me he sees my anxiety, that he cares and this isn’t just fucking. This is love in its rawest form.
His tip touches my entrance, and I’m shaking again. He teases me, leaving kisses across my shoulders but not pushing in. He’s allowing me to adjust, allowing me to say no, to go back to normal Toby and Lo.
“I won’t hurt you, Sparkle. I’ll never hurt you,” he promises.
Reaching forward, I drag my dress straps down, the material not super stretchy, but enough to bare my breasts to him. He pops a nipple into his mouth, swirling over it seductively. I mewl, my body relaxing to his touches.
When his hips start to push forward, his pool house door slams open. My mind fogs a little, the adrenaline and apprehension making me feel confused.
Toby jumps off me as he scrambles to pull up his shorts. He eyes me, and I hurry to cover up.
“What the fuck, Toby?” Jase roars as I try to muddle through what just happened, about what Tobe and I had been about to...
Fuck.
“How could you?” His voice only rises, his face redder than I’ve ever seen. His jaw ticks. The vein in his forehead is ever so present.
I stand and grab by wedding ring, not knowing if I should try and break up this impending fight or run.
But I’m not a runner, and he’s no better than I am.
“Stop!” I shout, making my way to them. Jase has Toby pinned by his arm against the wall. “I said stop it, Jason!”
He doesn’t turn to me, but I know he hears me because he shakes his head angrily. His fists whiten from the force. His veins in his arms are flexed from barely holding back, and his shoulders are so tight that the tiniest of movements could make them snap.
“I can’t look at you right now.” Jase shakes from head to toe.
I love the jealousy and anger. I thrive on it. The intoxicating thrill of one-upping him has me holding back a smirk. It’s barely hidden by my contempt.
“The fact that I saw him between your legs, and I just fucking can’t, Loren!” His eyes are closed, but I step closer, forcing his arm away from Toby’s chest. He flinches at my touch, like I scorched him, like I’ve hurt him.
Welcome to the fucking club, buddy.
“You did this to us, Jason. I just decided it was your turn to hurt,” I express before smiling triumphantly and walking toward the door. “I’ll call you later, Toby. Thank you... for that,” I add with a wink and hear Jase growl and punch the wall in result.
I didn’t get to say all I wanted to say, but I sure as hell got to bite back at the fucker for hurting me. Maybe this will ruin all of us, but the fucks I had to give have all but dissolved with bitterness.
It’s in your court now.