Tears prick my eyes as they catch on eight words tattooed on his rib, the one I have a match of on my own. His inscribed with still like the sky, free like the waves while mine is be free, not still. The one that’s tainted now. He has done that. And it’s not my fault.
“It’s over, Wesley. We are over.” A clean break. Like a goddamn butter knife to the flesh.
Ever heard of sarcasm?
His eyes close, and he folds his arms over his chest. I’m afraid if I stay, I’ll forgive him. If I let him talk to me, he’ll convince me that he’s a good guy... but he’s not. He’s not a good guy. He’s the villain of this fucked-up fairy tale. Or maybe it’s me. Wouldn’t be the first time.
Opening his eyes to gaze at me, tears well up. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes. The sincerity is there but makes zero sense. If he’s sorry, why’d he do it? If it was a mistake, why’d he risk it? If it wasn’t meant to be, why’d I ever love him?
“I’ve forgiven you for many things over the course of our friendship and relationship, Wes. But this...” I gesture to the room behind us, a heaping mess of never-meant-to-bes. “This is not something I can move past. I’m not even sure how I’m not stabbing you right now,” I whisper, my throat constricting with fresh wounds.
“It’s because you fell out of love with me,” he replies, matter of fact, his voice bereft. He scratches his chin as our gazes meet with confusion. “Don’t you see it, Josey?” He waves his hands, gesturing to the room, but refering to our relationship. “You stopped caring what I did ages ago. It was always about being a chef and what you wanted. You forgot what we built together. This wasn’t the first time, but you never noticed. At first, I wanted you to notice me, feel the pain you brought, but you abandoned me... just like your pops did to you.”
“That’s not what happened,” I bite out, bitterness coating my tongue, threatening to spew out and be as morbid as my thoughts.
“Then tell me, what the fuck happened to us?” he implores, running both hands through his hair before pulling it at the roots.
“I died inside.” With those words, my scars burn. All of them, the ones across my entire body, meaty and grubby. My answer is as close to the truth as he’ll ever get from me. He could have done so many other things in this world to get answers, but this? Anything but this. In the entirety of our relationship, he never asked about them.
Not the ones on my arms.
Not the dozens on my thighs.
Definitely not the ones on my chest.
“Babe,” he tries, using the single most boring word in the world, but one I allowed for the sake of his care. “Talk to me.”
“It’s too late for that. Don’t you see? This is goodbye, Wesley. It was fun while it lasted.”
“Don’t leave,” he begs, touching my arm. I whip it back, feeling like he’s invaded my space, my life, and my traitorous heart. I smack his hand away hard and take my bags with me. To hell with all the stuff I didn’t get. He can keep it. Along with his stupid surfboard he bought me. As I leave the apartment, I close another chapter in my life.
Dad isn’t going to be happy.
Will he even help me this time?
Fucking Marsha. Fucking Wesley. Fucking Lucien.
They can all deep throat a cactus.
Chapter Four
Two Days Earlier
Toby
Let me start by saying that I never intended to fall in love with my best friend, who also happened to be married to my brother. I never wanted to break apart a family or derail my own life in the process. I never wanted to be my father. Married to the bottle, lusting after the pain, and sleeping with someone who wasn’t mine to sleep with.
Whether my intention or not, it happened. It’s my fault.
It is what it is and isn’t.
I made my bed, and now I must lie in it.
She chose him, and I lost. Now, it’s time to pick myself back up and stop moping.
Many things contributed to the fall of Tobias Hayes, restaurant conglomerate business owner. Me. I’ve done it all to myself, but even with that acknowledgment, I’m bitter and have been hugging the bottle again. Some would belittle me for my lack of purpose these past few months, but