Page 25 of Selfish Desires

“I…” My voice wavered as I tried to formulate an answer. The truth was too cruel, too raw to admit even to myself. “I thought I could make things right.”

“Well, you didn’t,” he fired back. His anger echoed in the following silence, rising and falling in time with the crashing waves below me.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Vincent. You’ve ripped open wounds that had finally healed, and for what? So you could feel better?”

“Well, why did you think I was coming to New York? To stroll through Central Park? You knew I would do everything I could to track Wendy down.” I collapsed onto the brown leather recliner, begging my heavy lids to stay open.

“You promised me you’d stay away from Sadie’s party…” Zachary’s voice cracked, trailing off.

“Zachary. I’m sorry. There isn’t much more I can say, and I understand if you never want to speak to me again, but thank you.” I exhaled before sucking in a yawn. “Thank you for telling me Wendy would be in New York.”

“Where are you now?” Zachary asked, sounding like my old friend for a second.

I cleared my throat. “Newport.”

“Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me. Can’t you just leave Wendy alone?” And then the angry bull returned. “You are the biggest shit on earth.”

I pushed away an unhinged smile. “Not until Wendy hears the truth about why I did what I did. Then, whatever she decides, I’ll respect.”

“Is that a true promise?” Zachary taunted.

“I swear on my life.” My hand brushed over my chest, feeling absolutely nothing.

“Does that even hold any value anymore? Your life?”

Ouch, my face twisted. But, yeah. I deserved every harsh word. I was about to say something, but the line went dead before I could. I stared at the phone in my hands, the bright screen stinging my eyes in the dimly lit room. Zachary was right, and acting wrong was all I knew how to do lately. My head fell back, the phone slipping from my fingers until it thudded against the polished wood floors.

My body begged me to sleep, but it wouldn’t happen as long as my mind raced to figure out how to convince Wendy to see me. The quick buzz of my phone cut through my thoughts, and my eyes dropped to the device. I jolted upright, wondering if I was dreaming when I saw Wendy’s name splashed across the screen.

“Hello?” My voice was sharp, bordering on desperation. There was silence on the other end. The type of silence that was so absolute you could hear your own heartbeat echoing in your ears. “Wendy? You there?”

“You’re at The Pelican House, right?” Her calm voice broke through.

“Yeah.” I straightened. “It’s on the Cliff Walk.”

“I know where it is,” Wendy said, silencing me, but my tongue had other plans.

“You kept my number.” But, then, it hit me. She probably had it memorized, just how I had remembered her number by heart. We were impossible to erase from our lives completely, no matter how hard we tried.

A long pause settled between us. Too long. And I started to think I fucked up by saying that last line. I didn’t mean to sound cocky. I was genuinely surprised Wendy didn’t fucking lose my number after this stint I pulled.

“I’ll be over by seven tonight,” Wendy said. “See you then.” And then she hung up.

I stared at my phone for five minutes after hanging up on Vincent. The shock raging through my body from making the call refused to wane. I never fathomed dialing his number again, but it happened. Vincent said he held all the answers for his disappearance three years ago. After three hours of shitty sleep, two bitter cups of grainy coffee, and a decent talk with Marissa, I decided I owed it to myself to capture an inch of closure.

My feet thudded against the stainless steel counter in the back of the cafe, more often used as a bench than a prep table. The clanging of dishes in the kitchen and chirping of the customers up front would typically drown out my thoughts, but today, they served as a dull soundtrack to the screaming thoughts swirling in my head.

I was going to see Vincent again. Maybe I had really lost my mind this time. Or maybe I was finally finding it. Either way, I made my choice.

“You okay, boss?” Marissa asked, sucking me back into reality.

“Huh?” My head snapped up. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Just preparing myself, I guess.” A weak chuckle escaped my parched mouth as Marissa handed me a sweaty glass of iced water.

Marissa gave me one of her knowing looks, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“What?” I asked, downing half the glass.

“You've got this, Wendy.” Marissa’s hand rested on my shoulder reassuringly. “Just remember, you don't owe him anything. You're doing this for yourself.”

---