Page 25 of Mayhem

He shifts to face me, his eyes now sad as if he knows what I’m thinking. “Listen. I can’t predict what other people are going to do. Ever. And unfortunately, I do have a lot of people in my past. I can’t deny that.” He pauses, but I don’t respond. “On occasion people pop up out of the blue, looking for another good time.”

My breath still feels trapped in my throat. I knew he used to be a playboy but didn’t think it was still a thing. “Good time?”

His face flushes slightly. “It used to be my motto: ‘I’m here for a good time, not a long time.’” He shakes his head ruefully, and I can see embarrassment, or maybe it’s shame, coloring his features now. “It’s just how it was.”

“You say that like it’s past tense. But is that what you’re doing with me? Just looking for a good time, not a long time?”

“Absolutely not,” he says quickly, and with a sternness I’ve not seen in him. He sets the bottle on the coffee table and grabs both of my hands in his. “This is different, Tess. This is way different.”

His assurances hit the wall of doubt I’ve taken years to build brick by painful brick inside me though. I’ve heard that a million times before and been burned every time I believed it. This is different. Can someone conditioned to use charm as currency ever surrender the upper hand? Once the novelty fades, what stops his old instincts from kicking in, tossing aside promises to chase whatever next thrill comes around?

I shake my head, bitterness from old wounds festering. My ex Corey’s lies that sounded so similar bounce around my weary heart. "People don't just flip an enlightenment switch and change their patterns, no matter how much we want to."

Brad's mouth tightens. I brace for predictable excuses or deflection. Instead, his jaw sets with an unfamiliar resolve. "You're absolutely right. I can't rewrite my past. It is what it is. But I am willing to reshape my future." His eyes burn fervently now. "Or try to. I’ve been trying to. Just tell me what I need to do."

I want to believe him with every fiber of my being but doubts still shadow my thoughts. I, for one, know that people don’t instantly change. And even if he’s telling the truth, what happens when one of his ‘good times’ shows up when I’m not around? I don’t know if I can handle a relationship like this.

I don’t share. It’s monogamy or nothing with me.

So, what do I do now? Cut and run? Or give him the benefit of the doubt, and see how it goes?

How much can my heart take?

15

WARNING FROM MY DEMONS

BRAD

Leave it to my fucking ex, Gina, to ruin what is possibly the best date I’ve ever had. Fucking hell. I finally met someone who I think understands me as a person. Me. The fuck up who is just trying his fucking best to make good. To make up for what an absolute shitstorm of a person I used to be. And she just pops up out of fucking nowhere and derails everything.

I can see in Tess’s eyes that she doubts me now. I don’t blame her. I can’t blame her. My fucked-up reputation precedes me wherever I go. To be honest, I’m surprised we’ve gotten this far. Any sane person would have run away from me with their pants on fire.

But she’s still here. In front of me. Wanting to believe me. It’s plain as day that she wants to, but she’s holding herself back. And it’s killing me.

“I don’t know what words I could possibly say to convince you I’m no longer like that,” I start, as earnestly as I can. “But I’ll die trying to find them. I swear.”

“You don’t have to?—”

“Yes. Yes, I do.” Despite her words, I can tell she’s just being nice. Of course she is. She’s Tess. But I need to explain myself. It’s the only way to make this make sense to her. “This whole world is new to you, and let me tell you, it’s not pretty. It’s not glamorous. Sometimes it’s the most depraved and dark side of people that you can imagine, and some you don’t even want to picture. I’ve seen it. Hell, I even gave into it for a while. Too long.” I run a hand through my hair, reaching for my beer again for comfort as I talk.

“It’s easy to lose yourself, and who you are. It’s easy to stop being a fucking person and just let your demons run free because everyone else is doing the same fucking thing. You don’t see how messed up it is because you’re right in the thick of it. You think, ‘Well, this is how it is here,’ when it’s fucking not.”

Her demeanor softens, and her empathy flows around and through me.

This woman.

“But you’re not like that now. I can see that.”

“I like to think that, but I’m not perfect,” I finish off the beer, disappointed in myself. “It took my ex’s husband, Jude, sitting my ass down years ago to talk some sense into me for Charlie’s sake. I’m sorry to say that it doesn’t always stick.”

“You’re a great father. I’ve seen how you and Charlie are together.”

I scoff. “Far from it. I was just always on the road or wasted whenever I did see her. Never even asked about her life."

Shame coils hot as flashes of Charlie's sad little face blurred through intoxicated hazes pierce my heart for the millionth time. "Missed a dance recital here, parent teacher conference there...the list is endless."

My voice sounds hollow. Haunted. As it probably should. "One birthday I was across the fucking country, but I promised her I'd make it back for her party." Bile burns my throat reliving the next morning's hungover realization I never even booked a fucking flight. Her crying eyes were red and swollen from tears when I FaceTimed with some shit excuse.

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