on. But the mere thought of either of you looking at another woman the way you look at me blinds me with envy.
You’re a fool for loving me, baby.
And I’m wicked for allowing it.
Where do we go from here?
Yours forever,
K.
12
Ace
I haven’t looked at her photo in almost a year.
Standing before my hall closet, I flick the light on and glance up at the brown shoebox on the top shelf.
It’s like our past lives in that box. Or at least the memories of us do. Sometimes I struggle with the reality that what we had is over and done, never to return, despite the fact that it felt it would last forever.
I was so convinced she loved me with an infallible intensity, even on our worst days.
I was one hundred percent certain we were going to spend our lives together, that there was no one better suited for me.
I was sure a life without her would be akin to trying to breathe under water.
Turns out, I was nothing more than a damn fool.
I’m more upset with myself for believing her empty promises than anything else.
Pulling the box out, it feels a lot smaller than I remembered, and maybe that’s a metaphor for our relationship, but I’m too exhausted to think that hard about her tonight. I tuck it under my arm and take it to the fireplace.
It’s June, and the AC is running on high, but it feels like a good time to light a fire.
Dropping to my knees, I pop the lid off the box, glancing down at the photo that rests on top of piles of love letters and cards and the kinds of sappy mementos a lovestruck man might think meant something at the time.
“Kerenza.” I say her name out loud, though I’m not sure why.
It feels foreign in my mouth, though my chest tightens at its familiarity.
She’s grinning in the photo, perched on the edge of a sailboat just outside of Martha’s Vineyard. Kerenza’s wearing nothing but an emerald green string bikini, a summer tan, and a mischievous glint in her violet eyes. Her glossy black hair is tied loosely on the top of her head, piled into a knot of some kind, and she smiles wide for the camera.
For me.
We were happy then, blissfully unaware of our fate. Taking things one day at a time with a mutual understanding that we were on the same page: hopelessly, endlessly, unstoppably in love.
Or so I thought.
I reach forward, hitting the switch on the bottom of the mantle, reaching so far it causes my shoulder to ache. A fire roars to life and I push the screen aside. Taking Kerenza’s photo between my two fingers, I fling it into the flames, something I should’ve done a long time ago.
13
Aidy
“Ace asked about you this morning.”
I stop chewing the delicious medium-rare filet mignon before me and glance across the table at Topaz. She wears a mischievous glint in her eye and her lips are twisted.
Chewing my bite, which takes for-ev-er, and swallowing hard, I say, “I beg your pardon?”
“Yeah,” she says, glancing toward the sidewalk at passersby. It’s a beautiful Friday, perfect for a casual café lunch with one of my best friends, and she drops a bomb like that? Like it’s nothing? “He asked how you were doing.”
Reaching for my water, I ask, “And what did you tell him?”
Topaz grins wide. “I asked why he wanted to know.”
“You didn’t repeat anything I told you, right?” I ask, mentally rewinding to last night, when I caught her up to speed on everything and she accused me of having a crush on him and I admitted I thought he was ridiculously gorgeous but way too moody for me and changed the subject.
She pretends to zip her lips. “I would never.”
“Good.” I exhale, attempting to cut through my steak with the dull end of my knife. I flip it over after making sure no one saw.
“I told him he should take you on a date or something. You two would be so cute together.”
“Topaz.” I scold her with my tone, placing my fork aside.
“He said he’d think about it.”
“Topaz.” I bury my face in my hands. She knows how I feel about her meddling with these sorts of things. I’m sure he was just being nice and telling her what she wanted to hear. Guys like Ace, professional athletes, date super models and actresses and long-legged European socialites. Plus, like I told her last night, he’s too moody. I’ve made it my life