I NEVER GOT ALONG with Margaret, Daniel's mother and the devil in disguise.
Work wasn't so bad today, and Dominic hadn't phoned me yet. I should be happy, but I kept checking my phone to see if he called or left a text. I drove home with dread running in my mind. I hated to admit but I missed Dominic.
I intended to spend my day reading a book from my TBR and take a nap. I had yet to finish drinking water when my phone rang.
I didn't hesitate to pick it up, and I couldn't help but sound disappointed when Daniel's voice greeted my ear. I was suddenly annoyed, because he called me. But he was my boyfriend and had the right to call me whenever he wanted. I needed to be rational and not act like an ungrateful bitch.
Daniel told me Margaret had informed him that she was coming over tonight to meet us. I took as a sign that she was here to probably stick her nose in our relationship, encourage him to break up with me, and cause some stir between us, because, in her standards, I was no match to him. I was a college drop-out, didn't have a real job with good income, and lastly, I was half-French.
That occurred to her that I was unfit for her son.
Even amidst Daniel's reassurances and a twenty-five minutes yoga session, my mind was a fumbling mess. The idea of spending an entire evening with her sounded distressing enough that Layla's rude mails to me didn't seem so terrible to my eyes.
I called Tina and bitched about her to repress myself from physically harming her. I was glad Margaret lived 3-hour drive away from us and she rarely came here. As usual, I ordered take-out and set the tables and everything.
I scoffed and put white lilies in ceramic vase, it was a must to get on her side which Daniel insisted me to do, but I could care less about it.
Painting my lips with lip gloss, I scanned myself in the mirror and I hated it. Maroon cardigan that covered my wrists and faded jeans. I looked like a good girl. Who was I kidding, trying to pretend someone I wasn't?
The door bell rang and the devil herself appeared at our porch. When she spotted me, she gave me a tight smile, but I didn't miss the distaste in her hazel eyes.
She was a bitch, but she knew how to dress. Her white dress that ended at her knees matched her slender frame. Her straight, sandy blonde hair was tied into an impeccable bun, not a strand sticking out. She was forty-something years old, but her face didn't hold a wrinkle in sight. She used to be a prestigious lawyer and graduated from Harvard, same as her husband who passed away six years ago.
She was a good five inches taller than me and she reminded me of strict college lecturers, intimidating and hard to get along with.
"Mrs. Harris, please come in." I offered her the same fake smile and gestured her to follow me.
She didn't reply and settled herself on the couch and leaned back on it, her leg on the other, her gait regal and composed. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through it, making it known I wasn't worth a glance.
Without looking up, she asked me. "How's Daniel doing?"
I rolled my eyes, pretty sure she didn't notice me. "He's doing alright."
She didn't acknowledge me, so I'd pretend I c either. Instead, I went into the bedroom and texted Tina she was finally here.
I laughed when I read Tina's reply.
Tina: let's just hope she won't be a bitch. if she's still the bitter old bitch, i swear she deserves to choke on her dinner and have a seizure
Sara: does choking really cause seizures?!
Tina: i don't know but you get the point ;)
Sara: ur hilarious. ily. gtg rn
THE MOMENT I heard Margaret's laughter ringing through the kitchen, I got the hint that Daniel was back earlier than usual, because his momma came first before anything else.
I looked into the mirror on the closet and practiced a believable fake smile. Not too wide. Not like a grimace. Smile and then stretch the corners a bit up. Perfect.
When I came back to where the devil awaited, Daniel was already setting the food and talking to his mother like the momma's boy he was. He loved his mother too much that he picked Medicine because she said so, though he was more of a Marine Biology kind of dude. I couldn't imagine being this obedient and doing everything his mother said like a puppet, except, he hadn't dumped me like she wished him to. And I knew she held a personal vendetta against me, since Daniel defied her order for the first time for a mere girl she thought that I was.
I took delight in seeing her squirm and look at me like she wished I'd just disappear into thin air. My talent was disappointing my whole family, and that helped me become immune to other people's scrutiny.
Daniel grabbed a wine bottle from the fridge, which I didn't know when he bought it, and poured some for his mother. Then, when he saw me, he kissed me on the cheek and announced he was going for a shower.
I nodded and made myself comfortable at the table and when my gaze met Margaret's, her lips pressed in a thin line, and she focused her eyes on the other side of the wall.
She probably was waiting for me to beg for her majestic attention just so we could be friends. Huh, you wish. I'd mastered the art of ignorance back in college, back when people whispered shit behind my back about my not-so-great reputation.
Daniel entered back inside, adorning a white tee and grey sweat pants, and smiled a full-grown grin, revealing his pretty dimples.
Guilt churned my stomach, as I realized the godforsaken thing I did yesterday. Why did I cheat on him? But, now wasn't the time to over-think. I couldn't drop my act and let her win.
After saying our prayers, that was entirely her idea, this woman was mad religious, we picked out utensils and started dinner. I chewed oyster in silence, studying Margret pick her fork and pick a particular dish.
She widened her eyes in realization and looked at me in disgust.
"Did you forget I'm allergic to oysters?"
I wanted to say I didn't give a fuck, but Daniel beat me to it, looking apologetic.
"Sara tends to forget. Mama, just don't take it personal." Daniel threw me a confused look, and I shrugged.
I didn't forget. In fact, I knew that she was also allergic to roses and that she hated bananas for some reason.
Margaret stabbed her fork into the chicken and looked at me, as if my mere presence irritated her to the core. Likewise, ma'am.
Throughout the dinner, she talked to Daniel and asked questions varying from his diet plan to what he'd be doing next Tuesday.
It was entertaining to listen to her talk like an automated bot, purposefully ignoring me. I felt bad for Daniel because everytime he tried to say something about me, she'd interrupt him and act uninterested. Daniel would glance at me and smiled at me.
It wasn't so bad eating in silence. Not being a part of the super boring conversation (I'm really sorry Daniel had to grow up with someone so humorless and demanding) was better than acting interested. I was grateful my mom didn't choose my dress code since the day I was born until' I hit eighteen even though she was another version of Margaret.
Margaret wasn't one to poke her nose into my business, so I was surprised when she turned my way and stared at me.
"So, how's your brother doing? Still a drug addict, right?"
I was ready to snap at her, but I pushed my fury back down, feeling Daniel's fingers squeeze mine in a gentle grasp.
Forcing a tight smile on my face, I replied. "Well, yeah, he's checked into another rehab this June."
"That's good to know." She said.
She knew my brother was a sensitive subject for me, yet she pressed more, clearly evading my boundaries.
"Well, another rehab? I hope he'll be normal eventually. But wasn't he in jail a while ago?" She narrowed her eyes, waving her hands like she was talking about something irrelevant.
Talking about my brother's addiction was toleratable. But scrutinizing him was not.
"I think it's none of your business."
"Sara."
A look of disbelief flickered across Daniel's face, and I sighed, getting up from my seat because I had had enough.
"Excuse me."
My feet carried me through the living room. I didn't have to stop and turn around to know Margaret's telling him how rude I was, and honestly I didn't care. I went inside our bedroom, grabbed my purse and my car keys. And before I knew it, I was at the closed front door, ready to leave this bullshit behind and...
Daniel beat me to it and turned me around, grasping my shoulders rather painfully and seethed through his teeth. "Why?"
"Because she was being a nosy bitch."
"Don't call her that. You know she was concerned about your brother. You didn't have to be so rude."
"Rude? What do you mean I was rude? She was clearly poking me with that issue, using my brother against me just so she could get a reaction."
Sympathy pooled in his eyes, and for a moment, I could've sworn he really cared.
"She was just asking about your brother's condition. Your brother is a drug addict. So, what? Get over it. It's the truth and you don't have to be so dramatic when someone asks you about him."
It was plain, old pity. Just like the rest of people who'd seen my mother struggling with two children and no house, except, he didn't know me back then, so, he had no right to act like he knew what it was like to have a druggie as a brother and a stripper as a mother.
He always had everything on a silver platter. Rich parents. Private School. He'd never felt the panicky feeling that settled in my chest when I saw my brother, pale and unconscious, on the bathroom floor with water flowing from the tub when my mother was busy with her clients, so twelve-year-old me had to dial 911 and pray he wouldn't die.
He'd never had to endure hopeless nights wondering if there's going to be warm, edible food on the table the next day as much as worrying if we could pay for the next rent though the three of us worked every possible part time job. It was ridiculous of him to act like he understood my life. He had no right to judge me when he didn't know the whole story. He had none at all.
"I'm going to Tina's. Don't call and text. Don't track my phone. I'll be back when I'm ready."
I shut the door on his face and got inside my car, slamming the door hard. I turned the radio and maximized the volume. Then, I went on the road and called Tina. It led to voicemails. She was definitely still at her work.
The darkness hadn't wreathed its caress upon earth. Yet, a darker shade of orange splattered across the dull sky. There was nowhere for me to go. I was alarmed when my phone rang. It better not be Daniel calling me right now.
I was surprised to see Monica's name on my screen. I picked up.
"Hey, Renee's long-term boyfriend dumped her like out of nowhere and she's freaking out and crying. I've already fed her ice cream and listened to her 3-hour rant but she's still in pain. I was thinking, maybe you could come over to cheer her up. We can do a movie night, right?"
"Yeah, Of course, I'm free. Is anyone else coming?"
"Nope, it's just you, me and Renee."
"Alright. Send me your location."
And I could've sworn my heart dropped at the address I knew from the back of my mind, except my stomach coiled and a wave of nausea passed over me like a rip tide.
···
A twenty-two minutes later, I was standing in front of an apartment complex in another suburb.
I stared up at the familiar white building and an ache formed in my chest. This was too much nostalgia for me. This was where I lived with a thousand problems, yet no worries in my head. This was where I felt like myself the most.
With my heart heavy and my steps unsure, I ascended the stairs, counting from 1 to 100 to calm myself. I tried to not steal a glance when I passed the third room from the corridor of the first floor.
It seemed as though nothing significant had occured to my old room, but a part of me felt nauseated and wondered if someone could feel safe in a place where my soul felt violated. I wondered if they'd painted a cool color on the old lime green wallpaper in my bedroom. Perhaps, they saw old razors and broken markers under my old mattress. Perhaps, they replaced the bathtub. Perhaps, they didn't.
I wasn't aware of the cold freezing my palms until' I dug them inside my jeans pockets. I turned my head and looked at my old apartment doorstep. The lights were on.
No, there isn't anyone unconscious there. Anyone who live in there is normal, happy, and secure.
I tried to stop my chain of gloomy thoughts, but despite it, a new wave of panic washed over me, and suddenly, I was back to the girl I used to be-scared, hopeless, and emotionally numb.
Dwelling in my past only meant a worse progression for my mental health. I remember reading the line 'Living in the present is simply the solution to happiness.' in the self-help book I used to tuck under my pillow. But I hadn't been truly happy for years, since things went south after my reckless decision.
Thus, not wanting to ponder longer in my depressive episode, I stopped my pointless train of thoughts before my emotions spill.
···
MONICA'S PLACE didn't fit the image I'd formed in my head. In place of plaided wallpaper and mahogany bookshelves and flower pots lining the window that faced the main door, a deep forest green tainted the intricate patterns of wallpaper whilst some vintage posters were pinned just above the TV stand.
Monica opened the door for me, a sad smile on her face. Her eyes gave a brief look at the half-filled glass in her hand. "Would you like something to drink? Wine?"
"No, water is okay." I said, stalking toward the couch where Renee sat, her knees bent to her face.
Before her, an empty tub of ice cream lay on an oval shaped coffee table along with opened bags of chips and used tissues.
Monica gave a brief nod and entered the kitchen which was right across the living room.
As I sat beside Renee, she sniffled and looked up, her eyes swollen. "Hey, I thought you wouldn't come."
Mild surprise tugged at her words. She latched her arms around me and started raving about how shitty her ex was, all the while sobbing like a baby. I sympathized her. I really did, even if I didn't want to admit it, because I used to cry like that too.
"He didn't even consider my point of view. I was the one who helped him through trouble. He even went for the girl he told me not to worry about. He's an idiot. Fucking douchebag."
Comforting someone wasn't my expertise. Instead of telling her everything would be fine, I let her hold me and patted her hair, hoping it'd alleviate some parts of her misery.
It didn't take long for Monica to come back with two bottles in hand-water and wine-and a new glass. She sat beside me and after handing me water and Renee the wine bottle and empty glass.
"Are you alright? You look red." Monica pointed out, her eyes squinted, as she watched me drink water in large gulps.
It must've been my supposedly flushed cheeks that gave her the expression that I wasn't okay and that thoughts of my past still remained in my head, making it hard for me to focus.
"Of course, I am. My skin is just sensitive." I sighed, handing the bottle back to her.
Monica nodded, her eyes already focused on the TV, the remote control firm in her hand.
When I side-glanced at Renee, she was already filling her share of wine, muttering something about her having the most hypocritic ex.
Sandwiched between Monica and Renee, I felt pretty awkward. We weren't exactly strangers to go through introduction state, but it'd be weird to agree to Renee's words and trash-talk about her ex with them.
Asking questions regarding her relationship could further spoil her fouled mood. So, I chose a careful question.
"I guess you two share this apartment." I said to no one in particular.
It was Renee who placed her glass on the table to give her undivided attention to me. "Yeah, we've known each other since highschool."
"Oh, that's cool."
Renee grabbed a bag of chips and popped a handful in her mouth, chewing with a mournful look in her eyes.
"Want some?" She waved the bag in my face.
I shook my head, leaning back into the couch and fidgeting with the titanium ring on my left middle finger. Jesus, sometimes, I wish I had the ability to communicate like a normal person.
I mentally cringed when I saw the iconic Twilight movie playing. Renee must've noticed the change in my mood, because she nudged me in the shoulder, faking a frown. "Hey, it's my comfort movie."
"Yeah, Renee thinks clichy movies can heal her heart." Monica chimed in.
"At least, I don't..." Renee made an air quote, her fingers mid-air. "...accidentally set my pillow on fire with weird ass rituals."
"Manifestation?" I asked.
Monica adorably scrunched up her nose in feigned disgust. "Yeah, I manifested an ex two years ago. Worst mistake in my entire life. Never again."
Two rapt knocks came on the door, drawing our attention.
"Is it the pizza guy? It must be." Renee exclaimed and scrabbled up, her feet carrying to the door.
Just as I was about to make small talk with Monica, a shriek coming from Renee grabbed our attention.
Turning my head, I was met with Renee pulling the Pizza guy into a hug like long lost siblings. Only when Renee pulled her hands to her side and the guy glanced our way, I found it was no one other than Dominic himself, standing tall and handsome in a simple white tee and faded jeans.
The moment his blue eyes locked with mine, I could've sworn all the air left my lungs. I thought this was girls' night only.
I was ready to shoot Monica a glare and ask her why he was here. But she was already greeting him with a bear hug. They must've been close friends.
"What's up with you coming here? You didn't even tell us you were going to."
Dominic answered with a boyish grin. "You two haven't answered my calls at all. Figured I wanted to make sure someone didn't murder you two or something."
Monica rolled her eyes, feigning her annoyance. "Fair enough. Though I can't promise Renee's in the mood to spare a slice of pizza."
Renee snorted, her mood lightening up by Monica's joke.
"That's fine as long as we don't have to restrain her from drunk texting her ex." Dominic said, his tone playful.
From the way Renee flustered, it seemed she and her then-boyfriend had an unstable relationship. On and off. Probably a toxic one.
"Whatever." Renee walked over to me, leaving behind the two of her friends with knowing expressions on their faces.
She crouched to pick her empty potato bag and crumpled tissues before proceeding to enter the kitchen.
Monica followed after Renee. Dominic didn't waste his time striding after them, not before throwing a friendly smile my way.
When they got out of sight, I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. Oh, god, how can he look so calm and collected after what happened between us? I needed to get a hold of myself and not freak out over the fact that he was here. I mean, it was normal for friends to hang out, right?
"Do you like pasta?" Monica called out from the kitchen.
I found my voice after my futile attempt of not trying to imagine the scenerio again.
"Yeah, of course. It's great." I mumbled.
I turned off the TV after my mind lost focus and the damned Twilight movie was killing me. I heard Renee's laughter pouring out after Dominic made a jest about the way Monica mixed the sauce.
Monica retorted. "If you're only here to criticize my cooking skills, you can kindly fuck off to the living room. Sara won't mind company."
What. In. The. World.
When I craned my head to the kitchen, Dominic was already walking toward me, hands in his pockets, his pace casual.
I averted my gaze to the TV, which turning it off earlier was a huge mistake, because I needed to focus on something else that isn't a man so hot I might sin.
The space beside me dipped as he sat down. "Hope you don't mind me talking to you."
"No, I don't." I said, inching away from him, hoping he wouldn't notice.
And, maybe, he did, since my movement caused him to question me. "Are you okay?"
"Of course, I'm okay." I nodded like a little kid denying she'd stolen a candy.
"Your face looks so red," he said, seeming unconvinced.
I shake my head. "It's just the weather. You don't have to worry."
He studied my face for a long moment, concern written all over his face, perhaps looking for a lie in my head.
If he sensed me lying, he didn't say anything, he just let out a soft exhale. "Alright, but tell me if something is wrong. You know, I can be your actual friend."
Everything is wrong with my life. And I don't think confiding in a man I barely know can solve my problems. "Okay."
It was a dull silence between us. But he seemed comfortable with it.
"Are you free this weekend?" he asked.
"Umm... I don't know. My schedule is probably full anyway." I lied, not wanting to make plans with him.
It was too dangerous to hang with him. Even if we started off as friends, he'll eventually want more. And I didn't want to string him along.
"I understand. I'm hoping we still can hop on a call sometimes."
My heart thumped at the way he insinuated the statement without seeming desperate or weird.
I inhaled sharply and hated how his woody, clean scent hit my nostrils. He smelled so good. I wondered how it'd feel to be in his arms and engulf myself in his embrace. What was I thinking? I needed to stay away from him and tell him I wasn't an available woman.
But what would he think if he knew I sexted him beforehand? He'd scrutinize my moral values and distance himself. Not that I should care, but I still wanted to get a closer glimpse to who he actually was. I knew being obsessed with a man when I had a boyfriend wasn't healthy for my mentality. But I couldn't stop this impulse to know him better.
I pulled out my phone to check the message when it vibrated in my lap.
Tina: hey, sorry. i'm still at work and my snobbish boss won't let me touch my phone. *angry emoji* is everything ok? how did the dinner go? ily xoxo
I smiled. The sexual tension between Tina and her boss was higher than my anxiety level. I typed out a response, biting my lip.
Sara: absolutely not. it went terribly wrong. maybe, if u banged him, you wouldn't be so frustrated about work.
Tina: god, i can only imagine what that old hag said. also, ew... why should i have sex with him?
Sara: becuz u secretly want to?
Tina: well, but... that's not the point.
Sara: huh, liar. that is the whole point.
Tina: can i call u?
Sara: no, i'm hanging at a friend's rn. ttyl <3
Tina: what friend??! i thought i was your bestie *sob* *sob*
Sara: lmao you are my best friend. but srsly ttyl *lovesss*
I didn't want to appear rude when Dominic was sitting right beside me. I put my phone back in my purse and glanced at him who was already looking out the window, his brows pinched together, deep in thought.
It was enough admiring his ocean eyes and the shape of his perfect lips. I convinced myself it was enough anyway. Physical intimacy was too dangerous and I couldn't afford to get too involved.
"What's your favorite color?" I blurted, clearly not in the right senses.
It was too late to take it back. He shifted his focus on me as he leaned back into the couch.
"I don't really have one. Yours?"
"Blue." I cringed at my response, feeling awkward. "You know, like the color of your eyes. Umm... yeah, you know, your eyes are pretty." Since when did blue become my favorite?
Amusement etched in the way his brows softened. He knew he didn't have to make a comment. Just the look of unspoken language twinkling in his eyes was enough for me to look away and blush.
Monica barging in through the door with a huge grin on her face, her gloved hands clutching a wooden spoon, saved me from further embarrassment.
"Dinner is due soon. Y'all need something?"
I took it as my chance to get away from him before I melt into a puddle of raging hormones. "Oh, I'm kinda thirsty."
Renee stood near the stove, aggressively slicing the garlics, her face still sullen once again.
I tiptoed around the kitchen, taking in the minimalist design of white wallpaper paired with a orange-glowed flower lamp. Beside the tap, a small fridge was placed upon the counter. By the look of both cute, fairy stickers and Star Wars ones plastered all over it, I loved that they turned a lonely, small apartment into their own space, something warm and beautiful.
"Sara, do you like Cheese?" Monica said as I tipped my head back to drink water.
"Yeah." I nodded.
Monica grinned, spooning melted cheese from a bowl.
Renee looked at Monica, disbelief written all over her face. "You need to stop making every dish cheesy."
"Who doesn't like cheese?
"I don't like cheese."
That didn't stop Monica from flicking a quick, playful wink. "Well, Sara loves it."
Renee rolled her eyes. "Sure, because, Dominic loves it, too."
Her jest tied a knot in my chest but I brushed it off. Being jealous of their friendship wouldn't get me anywhere, so I should just ignore the little sting in my heart.
"I'll let you bitch me today, okay? But you need to stop mourning over that sick excuse of a human and cheer up a little."
"I am not mourning over him. It's just... it's not easy to pretend it never happened when I still vividly remember everything." Renee shot back, her voice tight. "Excuse me, I'm going inside my room for a second."
I knew what she's feeling—the all too familiar pain of heartache—because I'd felt it, too. I considered asking her if she'd like me to hear her out, but I decided against it, since she walked out the kitchen with her footsteps rapt and without looking back.
"Renee can be dramatic sometimes. She won't stay mad for long." Monica reassured me, heating the stove.
···
Dinner went well, at least I think so, because I'd chosen to spend my time perched on a stool of the counter, sipping cold wine like a pussy. Eating in silence and not getting their inside jokes was pain. And wishing I wasn't easily turned on everytime his eyes briefly meet mine during conversation with Monica and Renee. So, I'd excused myself mid-dinner. I'd already had three glasses but I wouldn't consume more than my limits anyway.
I peered at my glass to find I needed more wine. The bottle was half-empty when Monica handed it to me. My hand was almost on the fridge when I heard light footfalls and saw Dominic rummaging through the cupboard and pick out a glass and seat himself at the stool beside mine, as if I invited him in.
The image of him right now was a sharp contrast to how he looked the night we met at the club. He looked so chilled, innocent, next-door neighbor style, and not like the quick-mouthed, flirtatious guy.
But his eyes hadn't lost that unique, calculated gleam in their depth of pools.
Grabbing a new bottle out (Adding a new thing to my mental to-do list which is to buy Monica a new one first thing tomorrow), I joined him, and while I took my sweet time filling our glasses, I questioned him.
"Why are you here?"
"I thought you didn't mind company?" He said, his lips pulled in an easy smile.
"Of course, I don't."
"Good, because I plan to stick around a little longer."
With that I knew, I couldn't risk getting drunk tonight. Getting drunk equalled to losing my flimsy self-control and doing something I'd regret the next morning.
----
well, i couldn't write a thing since i got covid back in late july, so I couldn't focus and felt like dying. also, Taylor Swift is an icon, and i wonder how I slept on her for so long, thru out my teen years.
i wanted to focus more on the characters' interaction becuz, in my opinion, a bland character makes the story horrible even if the plot is decent.
bye! i'll try to update early this time.
book rec; Punk 57 by Penelope Douglas