Authors: Aimee L. Salter
I
sat up and pulled my skirt down over my knees. “You’re prepared?” My voice
wavered.
Mark
sighed and rolled onto his back. “Yes,” he breathed, sounding relieved. “Don’t
worry. I won’t get you pregnant or anything.” One hand drifted across my hip
and onto my back to trace lazy circles there.
I
squirmed away from his hand, hating myself for doing it. “That’s not what I
meant. You came here prepared. You came here with
Karyn
and you came
prepared
.
This – us – it’s only happened because you guys fought.”
Mark’s
fingers drew away from my back and he propped himself up on one elbow. “You
came here with Dex. You said you were
prepared
too.”
The
breathy heat was gone from his voice. He was uncertain – but there was a level
of warning there too.
I
shook my head. “I didn’t…I didn’t actually want to. And as soon as I heard him
talking, I was done. This… you… this is… something else.”
Mark
ran a hand through his hair, puffing a long slow breath between his lips. Then
he sat up, cocking a knee to lean on it.
“What’s
the problem, Stace?”
“You
have a girlfriend, that’s the problem. And you came here ready to… to sleep
with her. I’m second best. I’m only here because I’m second best. Only here
with you because she left.”
Mark
sighed. “It isn’t… I mean…”
“What
would happen, Mark? If she found out?”
He
was silent. Did he hear the question I hadn’t asked? Would he still want me
tomorrow?
“This
is stupid. You’re stressing about something that isn’t… I mean, we can’t know what’s
going to happen in two hours, let alone tomorrow. Do we have to figure it out
now?”
But
he was wrong. I could know what would happen tomorrow. And all of the sudden I
had
to know. I had to ask Older Me. Was this a drunken mistake? Were we going to do
this, then Mark would go running back to Karyn tomorrow? Or wish he could?
“Stace?” His voice was little more than a whisper.
He
reached for me, but I was on my feet and running before I change my mind. Mark
called after me, but I knew if I let him touch me or talk to me I wouldn’t be
able to stop. I’d give myself to him. I
wanted
to.
But
Older Me had been right about the party and Dex…
Mark’s
touch, his kiss… it had stripped everything away. I was raw and open and
his
.
If I let him have me and he threw me away… I wouldn’t recover. I would smash
into a million pieces, too small for anyone to glue back together. It was that
simple. I couldn’t handle having Mark tonight and losing him tomorrow. If she
knew anything…
Mark’s
voice was startled, insistent, calling my name. A heavy thump, then he said
something about Karyn too, but I closed my ears and kept running, running for
the light of the house, running for the bathroom, running for a mirror.
But
in my head his hand trailed up my side, his fingers like cold comets leaving
tingling trails on my skin wherever they passed.
I
sobbed and stumbled on the step to the porch, then ran on.
Chapter Thirty
I
ran across the porch, heading for that side door.
“Stacy!
Wait!” Mark stumbled in the grass and my breath hitched.
I
found the door, wrenched it open and flipped the snick on the handle to make
sure it would lock behind me.
I
wasn’t halfway across the room when he hit it with a harsh thump and the knob
rattled. He banged on the glass of the door with a flat hand, but I was gone.
Inside,
music pumped a heavy rhythm through the old wall, voices cutting across it.
Light divided the hallway into chunks of bright and dark as I tore across the
slick floorboards and up the stairs. I dodged past Liam talking to the guy from
the deck. Both their mouths dropped open as I raced past them and up the
stairs, but neither of them said anything.
I
was vaguely aware that the voices drifting up from the living room stopped when
my feet pounded on the stairs, but they couldn’t reach me fast enough to stop
me.
I
didn’t count on finding a dozen doors at the top, though.
Footsteps
and curious voices crossed the big room below, the light in the hallway went on
below me and I ran into the first room I found, praying for a bathroom.
Slamming
the door behind me, I patted the wall until I found a light switch and flipped
it on.
I
was in a huge bedroom with fluffy things all over the bed and lace hanging off
every conceivable surface. A couple bags were thrown in the corner. But no one
was there.
Ignoring
the massive window and the view of the sand, I made straight for the two doors
in the wall. One was a walk-in closet, the other a half-bath.
“Older
Me! I need to talk to you. It’s an emergency!” My hands shook while I found the
light, closed the door and locked it.
“Older
Me? Older Me!”
Footsteps
sounded on the other side of the door. “Shtashe? You in there?”
I
could only stare at the mirror and whisper for her. “Please, please, I need
you. I don’t know what to do.”
“Shtashy?”
It was Dex. Drunk. A gentle knock rattled the old door and I froze. “Shtashe,
come out.”
All
at once anger and horror surged in equal measures. I wanted to throw the door
open and knee him in the cods, leave him a sobbing mess on the floor. And I
wanted to curl up into a ball and die of humiliation.
More
footsteps and voices I didn’t recognize.
“Is
she in there?”
“Ugh,
she’s probably puking. Leave her to it.”
“She’s
just being a drama queen.”
Then
a comment I didn’t catch and laughter from the hallway outside the room.
“Shuddup!”
Dex again.
I
shivered like the grass outside, caught in the wind off the sea.
Then
she was there. She appeared, standing in the mirror, arms wrapped around
herself in a frightening reflection of me under the trees waiting for Mark.
We
stared at each other.
She
wasn’t wearing make-up, but something about the way her chin was up and her
hair pulled back…she looked different.
“You
look–”I started, but she cut me off.
“I
shouldn’t be here. I have to be quick,” she whispered, glancing over her
shoulder. “I only heard you because I was in my room. I have to go back…” She
turned again.
Anger
rose, pressing on my ribs, but I couldn’t yell at her or she’d leave. So I
gritted my teeth and forced myself to keep my voice down. “I’m sorry to
disturb
you, but I wasn’t joking. This is an emergency!”
She
swallowed, nodded. “What is it?” Why didn’t she sound curious? Why was she only
interested in looking over her shoulder? Couldn’t she see I was
freaking
out?
I
gaped for a moment, but afraid she would actually take off again, I swallowed
my irritation and opened my mouth, just as a knock sounded on the door and
Dex’s voice came through, hushed and smothered like he had his lips right up
against the crack in the door.
“What’d
you say, Shtace? I couldn’t hear you. Come talk to me, babe. I don care if
you’re drunk. Ish okay.”
Older
Me’s head whipped back to face me, her eyes wide, alarmed. But she kept
glancing behind her as, in a hushed whisper, I told her what I’d overheard
earlier, how I’d avoided Dex since.
She
sighed, glancing around and back to give me a small smile. “So you didn’t–?”
I
shook my head. “No. I ran away and hid.”
She
jerked around, freezing in place. I plowed on. “But Mark found me and…”
“Stacy,
I have to–”
“Shtashe?”
Dex said softly.
“Leave
me alone!” I screamed at him. “I don’t want to talk to you. Just leave me
alone!”
I
turned back to Older Me just as she stepped back. “I’m sorry, Stacy. Really.”
Her voice shook. “But I have go to. Now.”
“Wait!”
“I
can’t!” she hissed and started turning. But then she froze again, her eyes
widened in horror and she whispered a frantic “No!” as the sound of a heavy
door sliding on a hard floor rose from her side of the mirror.
“What–?”
I broke off as a man – tall and broad, a hair past trim, stepped into the
frame. A man who looked familiar. Except…
Older
Me’s hands clasped to her mouth. She backed away. She tried to leave, I think,
but he held her in place, turning as he did, so that I could see him clearly.
Oh…My…
His
words were hushed, shoved between his teeth. “What happened? Why did you leave?
They’re almost done and now they’re waiting for
you
.”
“Mark?!”
I gasped.
Older
Me covered her face with her hands, while the impossible Older Mark stepped
closer, his voice growing more ragged, more angry, as he kept asking her what
was wrong. Then he spied the mirror – I’d swear he looked right at me – and his
lips pressed in tight.
I
was so stunned, for a minute I thought his tight, angry look was for me.
“Mark?”
we both whispered.
His
head jerked back to Older Me and he grabbed her arm, leaned into her ear,
scowling. “Again? You’re doing this
now
? Those people are trying to help
us – help you!”
“Mark
is…is Tom? Mark is your
husband
?!” I stumbled back.
Marcus Thomas
Grey
. How had I never seen it before?
Older
Me flinched and wouldn’t look at me.
“Just
give me five minutes,” she hissed. “It’s group therapy. Having a crisis at some
point is practically a requirement.”
“This
is out of control. You said you were getting past it–”
“Go,
Mark! Before I decide to raise my voice so they can hear me! Wouldn’t
that
be
embarrassing?”
He
froze, one hand clasped on her arm. “You need help,” he said quietly. Coldly.
They stared at each other, silent and angry, then he turned on his heel and
stormed out. Older Me dropped her face into her hands.
A
second later the heavy slide sounded again. She flinched when it was followed
by a slightly-too-loud bang of a door slamming home.
I
couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe she’d hidden this from me. I couldn’t
believe…
I
glared at her half-turned back, heart thumping in my ears. “That was Mark.”
Her
shoulders hitched.
“That
was
Mark.
” I hissed.
Finally
she lifted her face. Her reddened eyes met mine and she said the words that cut
through skin and bone. “Stacy, Mark is my husband. He thinks I’m crazy. He’s
had me committed. Twice.”
“Mark?”
I couldn’t have heard her right. It couldn’t be possible. Images whipped
through my head, snatches of conversation with Older Me. I catalogued
everything I knew about Tom…and realized it was next to nothing.
“You
told me you married a guy named Tom that you went to college with!”
“Mark
and I did go to the same college. He transferred before junior year.
We…reconnected. By that time he’d already met his business partner. The other
guy is named Mark too. Our Mark was already going by Tom, just to stop any
confusion...”
“You
married
Mark
?!” A pain sliced through my chest, left me bleeding. “My
Mark?” My mouth wouldn’t work. I couldn’t get the questions out. Couldn’t think
straight. Couldn’t decide if I was furious or in heaven.
“I’m
so sorry. I’m so sorry. He isn’t…he isn’t the one, Stacy. Believe me. Please.
You can’t let yourself love him like that. He’ll hurt you. So bad.
So
bad…” Her words dissolved into sobs. I took another step back, but then
stopped. Because the disbelief was fading, turning into heat.
A
spiky, searing heat that rose from my chest to engulf my head and threatened to
spontaneously combust my hair.
“I
could have had him tonight,” I said through gritted teeth. “But I thought… I
left him because…” The things I’d thought cut through me. She could have told
me. Mark loved her! Didn’t that mean he could love me too!? “Oh my–”
Older
Me shook her head. “It will be okay. We’ll make it okay.”
“No.”
She was wrong. The heat dissolved, morphed into despair. Certainty. “It’s all
ruined. It’s all ruined because you lied to me. You didn’t tell me. I’ve ruined
everything.
”
Older
Me’s head snapped to attention. “What happened?”
“I
wrote a letter.” It was pointless to hide it from her any longer. Might as well
light every last fuse and let everything blow because after tonight I didn’t
have anything left.
She
shrugged, then frowned. “I did too. I wondered if you had. It’s ok–”
“No,
you don’t understand. I wrote it when I thought…thought he was falling for me.”
“Oh,
Stacy…” The pity in her tone made me wince. “I do–”
“The
thing is, I never gave it to him. I found out about Karyn. But I didn’t want to
lose it, so I put it in my wallet.”
It
took about six seconds for her to understand the implications of that. Then she
paled. “Finn stole your wallet.” She sighed. “Stacy, why didn’t you tell me? I
went through that too. I thought maybe you’d skipped that part because you
never mentioned–”
“I
thought I could get it back. It’s why I went to the party. And why I kept
trying…it doesn’t matter. The point is, he’s threatening to show it to Mark.
He’s certain if Mark reads it he’ll never want me…”
Older
Me sat back. Her hands kept opening and closing and her gaze flittered around
the room. “It isn’t
so
bad,” she said slowly. “I mean, it’s not like
people haven’t guessed how you feel about Mark.” She bit her lip. “It will be
embarrassing, but…”
I
swallowed. “You wrote a letter too?”
She
nodded sadly.
Hope
rose in a wave. I swallowed again. Hard. “And so you told him…about us? And
loving him? And–”
“WHAT?!”
Older Me leapt to her feet and came to the surface of the mirror until her nose
almost met the glass. “You said
what
?! What did you tell him? What do
they know?”
Her
reaction shocked me. I took a step back, stammering because I wasn’t sure
whether to tell her the truth or not. “I didn’t… I mean, I wasn’t clear…it
isn’t as bad as you think–”
“TELL
ME WHAT YOU WROTE DOWN!”
She
looked like a woman possessed, eyes wide so the whites showed all the way
around.
“Stop
yelling! I didn’t tell him about
you,
exactly
.
I just said that I
had a secret…about why I talked to myself all the time.”
“Oh
man oh man oh man oh man…” her voice trailed off, but her lips kept moving. She
paced back and forth in front of the mirror, eyes squeezing shut, then flying
open. Tears spilling over. But she acted like she didn’t even realize she was
crying.
“The
mirror. Did you mention the mirror?”
“I…”
I slumped. “Yes.”
“Oh,
no. Oh,
no.
”
Her
reaction scared me. “Older Me, why are you–?”
“I
told you never to tell anyone, Stacy. I told you we couldn’t ever tell anyone,
especially
Mark. Why couldn’t you listen to me?”
“I
told you, I didn’t explain it.”
“It
doesn’t matter,” she breathed, one hand raking through her hair. “He’ll know.
He’ll know. He’ll put it together and… oh, gawd. Stacy, you’ve ruined
everything.”
“Ruined
what? I didn’t tell him!”
She
whirled to face me. “You don’t have to! He’ll guess!” she sobbed. “Stacy, don’t
you get it?! I tried to keep you away from him. I tried to tell you he couldn’t
ever know about me! It was so important…
The
most important…”
“I
don’t understand.”
She
shuddered, then sagged. Her chin dropped to her chest. “Stacy… Mark put me in a
hospital. I’m…I’m in an institution because he thinks…” She groaned and covered
her face. “Finally,
finally
you break the pattern,” she breathed, “and
it had to be
this
?” Her hands flew to cover her mouth and her eyes
squeezed shut. “Why did it have to be this?”