Page 38 of Mayhem

“Then talk to him,” Ivy says, “You’ve been through enough shit with losers with the broken trust reversed. Use that. You know what he’s going through, what he’s feeling. You’ve been there. Not exactly like this, but you know what I’m saying.”

She’s right. Of course she’s right. I do know what it’s like to have trust broken, because it happens to me all the time. I’ve just never been on this side of it before. I don’t like it.

“I do know what you’re saying. And you’re right. I’m just not used to being the trust breaker. I’m usually the one being fucked over, remember?”

“To be fair, though, this was unintentional, so don’t beat yourself up too much. It was an honest mistake.” She snickers. “It’s not like you ‘accidentally’ fell into someone else’s bed… I will not be naming names.”

She doesn’t have to. I know exactly who she’s referring to. Unfortunately, it’s more than one of my ex-boyfriends who have ‘accidentally’ or otherwise ‘mistakenly’ fucked someone else while still in a relationship with me.

I sure can pick ‘em.

“Please don’t,” I say, trying to take her words to heart. I didn’t mean to break Brad’s trust, she’s right.

I just need to convince him of that. Somehow.

When I get home, I pace. A lot. I silently wish that I had a pet of some kind to comfort me, or hell, even pace the floor with me. With all the traveling I’ve done in previous jobs, it never felt prudent to keep a pet. Shit, I’d even settle for a short-lived carnival goldfish right now just for the company.

I already apologized to Brad at the rehearsal space, so I don’t want to beat a dead horse with the ‘I’m sorry’s,’ but I can’t help wanting to say it again, over, and over. I’ll say it until I’m blue in the face if it means he believes me. And forgives me.

That’s the part that pulls at me. I need him to forgive me. With every fiber of my being, I want him to tell me that it’s going to be alright. We can get past this. We can continue from where we left off before I screwed it all up.

I need to know that it’s not unfixable.

After too many trips around the living room, I finally brace myself and dial his number. It’s late, but not that late. Not for Brad. I know he’s a night owl like me, so as the phone rings without an answer, I hold my breath.

After the fourth ring, his voice is breathy, but with an edge to it that sets my nerves into a frenzy.

“Hello.”

It’s not a question. Or a greeting. Just a word. And I don’t know how to interpret it. There is no emotion at all.

“I was hoping we could talk,” I say, pushing through my anxiety and trying desperately to not be too tentative. I’m calling with a purpose, and I want him to know that.

“Okay.”

That short response isn’t exactly encouraging, but I press forward.

“I’ve already apologized, so I’m not going to keep telling you how sorry I am,” I start, but then the wind in my sails starts to wane. Maybe that’s not the best way to start this. “But I hope you know that I am sorry.”

Nothing. Not even a sigh. Damnit, though, this is too important.

“What I wanted to talk about were my intentions. Because I never, ever, intended to cross any sort of line with you. Or Charlie. I absolutely one hundred percent should have asked you before posting that video.”

“We agree on that,” he says flatly.

“Brad, in one week I’ve seen sides of you that the public never sees. And it kills me to think that people are out there that don’t know how wonderful of a human being you are. That don’t know what a fantastic father you are. And when I saw you with Charlie, reading like that, I wanted people to see that side of you. I just didn’t stop to think, and I should have. I let my personal feelings for you cloud my professional judgment.”

He's quiet for a long moment, and for a second, I think maybe he’s hung up on me. But then he says, “Charlie really likes you, Tess. And I’ll be honest, that scares me. Especially after today.”

My heart cracks, remembering Charlie’s confused face as they left earlier. I never meant to do this to her either.

“Well, I really like her, too. And I feel like absolute shit.”

Now we’re both quiet, and I can almost hear both of our minds whirring with indecision.

I break the silence, resigned to resolve this one way or the other. “Listen, I spoke with Eliza earlier, and I’m not fired, but if you’re uncomfortable working with me, just say the word, and I’ll quit tomorrow?—”

“No, I don’t want you to quit your job…” he sighs. “Fuck, I don’t even think I want to stop seeing you. But I need you to understand that Charlie is off limits on all things Chaos Fuel related.”

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