I slowly blink my eyes open, feeling like the dead being brought back to life as I do. My head is pounding and my face feels like it has mud caked on it.
Please tell me I do not still have all of that paint on my face. I will have a raging facial breakout if I do. Having acne for the foreseeable future doesn't even compare to the hammering going on inside of my skull.
A soft familiar snoring has me blinking even more rapidly, trying to forget the pain and register the sound. I turn over to see that there's, thankfully, no one in the bed with me. I look over to Marcella's bed and it's empty as well.
Where in the world is that snoring sound coming from?
Another soft snore has me rolling over to see Carter sleeping on the floor next to my bed.
Why is Carter sleeping on the floor in my room?
I wrack my brain to think back to last nights events. I remember coming back to school and not being able to get out of the car. Carter had picked me up and I had passed out in his arms.
I look around for my phone, patting the bed until my hand lands on it. I sit up automatically seeing I've got missed calls and texts from Jamie and Boston. When I open up my phone it goes directly to Boston and my text messages. I scroll up to where the first message is and smack my forehead.
Oh god, Boston is going to be so pissed at that picture.
I glare at Carter before going back to the text messages. There's several from Boston this morning saying how we need to talk. That before I talk to my brother I need to hear him out. That he's so sorry shit went down the way it did. He didn't even mention the picture of Carter and I. None of it made sense.
With shaky fingers I click over to my brother's text messages. There are three pictures. Pictures that make tears automatically prick my eyes.
Boston's got Louisa on his lap, kissing her. His hands are on her waist. Her hands are in his suit jacket. The image and my brother's words, stay the fuck away from him, make me chuck my phone away from me.
The image can't be right. Boston would never cheat on me. He promised me he would never cheat on me. He promised. I clutch my necklace as I feel the tears start to trickle down my cheeks.
"You okay?" I don't answer Carter because I can't. The last person that should be here right now is him. But he's familiar. He's the only familiar person besides Marcella here. I clutch my necklace even harder as I choke on a sob. "Hey hey, shhh." Carter gets up from the floor and sits on the edge of the bed. He opens his arms and I welcome the hug. I welcome the comfort. I need it. "You'll be alright. You just had a little too much to drink. It's nothing to be embarrassed about."
"I'm not embarrassed." I managed to finally choke out. "It's just, uhm, nothing. I shouldn't talk about it with you." I back out of his arms, distancing myself from him which makes him frown. "Why'd you send Boston that picture last night?"
He looks away from me but answers honestly, "I was angry and jealous. I was jealous that you chose him over me and angry that I'm the one here for you and he isn't. I miss you and after I saw the picture you posted last night I wanted to see you. It's why I was in the parking lot. I was about to leave when I saw Marcella struggling with someone, that someone being you. I'm just glad I was there. Glad I was sober. Happy I'm here right now because you clearly need someone."
"I'm fine." Before I can stop him he snatches my phone. "Carter, come on, don't. Just don't." He opens it anyway and his features turn angry.
"If you're not going to put up with my bullshit then you sure as shit shouldn't put up with this, Monica. You barely know the guy." He shakes his head in frustration. "You deserve better." How ironic that he's the one to say that about Boston when Boston had originally been the one to say that about him.
"I'm in love with him, Carter." His jaw grits. "I'm going to hear him out. See what he has to say about it. I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding." God I hope that's all this is.
His features turn sad and he grabs my hand saying, "all those times I told you it was a misunderstanding it never was." I feel my heart ache inside my chest at his words. "I've talked to Eric about him. You need to be careful. He's impulsive and doesn't think twice before doing something. That's going to hurt someone like you, Monica. You're so smart. You have your whole life ahead of you. I'd hate to see you throw it away over a guy."
"I came here because of you and you're telling me not to base my future around a guy?" I let out a sardonic sound before adding, "that's the pot calling the kettle."
"The difference is I wanted a future with you. I wanted to marry you, have kids with you. You know, the American dream. I wanted that with you. Maybe I'd be a pro-athlete and be able to take care of you while you wrote your famous masterpiece of a book."
"You never believed in my writing." At least I'd thought he didn't.
"Well, I've had a lot of time to think about how I fucked up in our relationship. I didn't appreciate you enough. I wanted more than you were willing to give to me. I was selfish. You were right." I would think he was full of shit but he looked genuine. Genuine and sad. "Listen, I'm sorry I sent that to Boston. It was wrong of me." He stands up from the bed. "I should probably be going."
"Okay." I don't know what else to say. There isn't anything else and he really shouldn't be here right now. It especially shouldn't be him comforting me.
"Do you need anything else from me?"
"No. I'll be fine."
He nods his head before leaving the room.
I grab my phone and go over to the pictures of Boston and Louisa. I save them and send them to Boston in a text with 'doesn't seem like there's much else to talk about'. The moment it sends I shut my phone off then hang my head in my hands and cry.
✩✩✩
Several hours later, after one extremely hot shower, I feel physically and emotionally exhausted. I hadn't been able to eat anything, which contributed to me feeling even more hungover. All I did as drink water and crawl back into my bed. Even when Marcella had tried to talk to me I didn't really respond. I just told her I was feeling sick so she left me be.
When I turned my phone back on I saw that Boston called numerous times. So did Jamie. Then my mother called. Which is how I knew Jamie had talked to her. I'm praying he spoke to just her and not both of my parents. My father would fly out and personally punch Boston in the face for hurting me.
Regardless of who it was, I didn't pick up any phone calls. I just sat in bed, letting my anxiety eat me alive until I could manage to be in a somewhat better headspace. I was useless talking to anyone in my current state.
I twist my ring around for the millionth time, looking at it's inscription. I sing the lyrics to myself like the sad case of a mess that I currently am, vacillating steadily between sadness and anger. Hating myself for falling for someone who would end up doing the same thing to me as Carter. Hating myself for even thinking that about Boston. Then loathing every thought process after that.
The fact of the matter is— I didn't have any facts. I had what my brother said and a few pictures he'd personally took. My biggest protector, other than my father, with proof of him and Louisa messing around. It didn't take the press. It took my family member. My own brother caught him in the act.
I open my phone and head over to the song wrapped around my wrist, hanging around my neck. Elvis' voice starts playing and the tears start flowing. I feel like such a pathetic mess. Such a sad and pathetic mess over a man I barely know yet love more than anything. Love him enough to let him hurt me like this. It's ridiculous really.
There's a knock on the door just as the tears really start flowing. I try to contain myself, hiccuping back the sadness but I know my voice won't work. I hold the phone closer, feeling a bit more pathetic because I still want to listen to the song. I don't even care if the person on the other side hears. I don't care about much of anything at all.
I don't care because I haven't even been married a month and yet divorce is looming right around the corner. The thought makes me shudder. How could I be so intolerably stupid? The last thing I am is stupid.
My phone pings— Please open up the door.
I wipe the tears away from my face and sit up to stare at the door. I wait another minute just staring at it but he knocks again with, "we need to talk." He flew all the way out here? "Please, baby, please just open up and talk to me."
His words have me standing on numb feet and moving towards the door like there is a magnet on the other side. I unlock it and slowly open it, hiding half my face as I do. He doesn't need to see me in my current red and swollen-eyed state. The moment our eyes lock I see that he looks just as miserable as I feel. It makes the tears slip traitorously from me.
He pushes the door open and envelopes me in his arms. "Baby, don't cry like that." His voice is thick with emotion. "Not over me. Not over this." I don't even think twice before wrapping my arms around him and holding onto him for dear life. "Shh." He kisses the top of my hair over and over again. "It isn't what it looks like. I would never hurt you. I promised you I would never hurt you. You have to believe me. It isn't what it looks like. I love you too much to do that, baby."
And just like that, I know he's telling me the truth. The safety of his arms and the tenor of his voice let me know that. Boston would never hurt me. He loves me.
As he holds me tighter, reassuring me with words and kisses, I hear the song in the background playing.
Like a river flows, surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes. Some things are meant to be...
A/N:
Happy Friday!
Who was expecting that?