Page 41 of Signs and Signals

The room falls silent. No more keystrokes, no voices on the phone or chatting with each other. The air feels thick with tension, and I can almost hear the collective intake of breath as everyone turns their attention to me. I can feel the weight of their stares, the curiosity and judgment in their eyes, wondering if today is the day I tarnish my spotless reputation. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing in the stillness. But I don’t care what anyone thinks or how my reputation fares after this. The only sound is the faint hum of the air conditioning, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside me.

“Atlas, hey, wh-what are you doing here?” Good, he is nervous, so he just admitted to what I wanted to know before I even had to ask.

“It’s Mr. Kensington to you, and you know damn well, why I am here. Why was there another article linking me to Mallory, a little over a month ago, published? Why is the photo that was used from too many years ago to be used for the present time in which the article was written?”

His face is red, and his breathing has accelerated, “The picture was sent in with the article, I just rewrote the words to match the preference of the magazine. I swear, if I thought it was fake news I would have reached out to you. I didn’t think anything of it because you were in Portland recently.”

I inhale deeply, trying to contain the urge of wanting to grab him by the throat and put him through the wall next to us.

“Who sent you the information, James?” I snarl.

“The picture came from Mallory and the article notes came from, um, I am not supposed to give out that information, I could get fired or worse, sued by the person who wrote it,” he says nervously.

“You got the article from my mother, didn’t you? You can just nod if I am correct.” James gives a subtle nod, but before Ileave, I need to make something crystal clear to him and hope he listens this time.

“If you ever, in your life, publish, write, or speak about me or anything going on in my life, I will sue you for defamation of character. Everything you have ever written with my name attached to it, has been nothing but lies and fabrications of stories that show me in a negative light. My lawyer will be sending over a contract before you leave work this afternoon, if it isn’t signed and returned to his office by morning, the next thing you will receive is a court date. Do I make myself clear, James, like, really clear?”

“Yes, sir,” he sulks. I don’t pay attention to him any longer, turning to walk out the door. Before I make it all the way out of the room, I turn to give him one last piece of advice before leaving.

“I want the article, and the photo pulled before I get home. I want a retraction printed and a public apology for treating me this way my entire career. I have always been kind enough to give interviews when asked, and it is journalists like you, James, who make athletes, musicians, actors, and anyone else who is in our position, think negatively of the press. This is why a lot of people will not give interviews, because of the things you have done, just to make a quick buck.” I turn, showing myself out. Now on to my mother.

I drive to her house and one of the housekeepers say she has gone on a trip and will be back in a couple of days. Of course, she left, when I need to talk to her, she is always unavailable. I try taking a page from her book and blow up her phone every way I can think of.

I tried calling, texting, and leaving voicemails, but no response. I even robo-called her, where every time the voicemail started in, I hung up and called right back. She definitely knows I am on to her, and I am pissed, because I would never initiateany communication, especially since meeting Indya, and mom disapproving of her.

After practice, I skip the gym, just going home. I have had a shitty day, and the hits just keep on coming. I pull into the underground garage and park my truck. The beep from the key fob echoes from the concrete walls. Before I get to the elevator, I notice someone come up behind me.

“Atlas, baby, your home, early,” Mallory’s whiney voice croons.

“The fuck are you doing in the garage? What do you want? I know what you did, and you are going to pay for this little game you are playing with my mother,” I snarl at her. Making sure she understands, I am pissed and want nothing to do with her.

“Baby, that is why I am here. I wanted to talk to you about everything. Can we just go up to your condo and talk in private? There is a lot I want to tell you,” Mallory almost sounds, sincere—almost.

“You better make it quick, and if I don’t like what you have to say, I will call every journalist I have ever come across and have them here to witness you being escorted from my building—again.”

We ride the elevator to my house, and I head straight for the living room. Mallory is taking her time, looking around, for what I don’t know. However, it could be that she has never been here before, she has never been invited to the building to be honest.

“Sit down, and stop trying to procrastinate. I'm not going to offer you a drink or a snack. I’m not giving you a lot of time as it is, so you may as well start talking,” I tell her with a tone I have never used towards a woman in my life. It’s laced with disrespect, a sharp edge that cuts through the air. At this point, I can honestly say I don’t even like her as a person anymore.The words taste bitter on my tongue, but I can’t hold them back. The tension between us is palpable, a chasm that seems to widen with every passing moment.

She tries to sit close, but I move to another area of the living room. When she tries to follow, my glare is so cold toward her, she stops and second guesses herself, going back to where she was sitting previously.

“I just wanted to talk to you about what I have done in the past to hurt you. I understand some things you wanted to keep private. At the time, I did not realize it was wrong of me to do. I am sorry I cheated on you as well. I was so lonely, and needed the affection and connection you were giving to baseball and your fans. So, I looked for it elsewhere,” she lowers her head, almost looking genuine in her apology.

“I think if we really work at communication, we could be great together. I still love you, Atlas, and I know you are still in love with me too. We are meant to be together forever, even our families think so. So, I think we should give it another go, really try this time—”

I cut her off, “Are you telling me, you risked being arrested for trespassing to tell me you want to work things out?” I am dumbfounded by what goes on in Mallory’s head. “It is time for you to go, and if I see you again around my building, the clubhouse, or me, I will slap you with a restraining order then call in a tip to all the journalists, so they can spread the news.”

Something weird is going on, I have a gut feeling something is off.

“I understand, Atlas. I really am sorry for everything, and of course I want to work it out. We were together for so long,” she says. Then she lifts up on her toes and kisses me right on the mouth. Then I hear a gasp, shuffling of feet, and the pounding sound of them hitting the elevator button.

I push Mallory away, looking toward the elevator door, and I am destroyed. If there were any fragments of my heart still intact, they no longer exist. I have no one to blame but myself. I knew better than to let Mallory into my condo, I should have followed my gut. But no, I thought letting her say her piece would give her the closure she needed to leave me the fuck alone.

The doors are closing as I rush from the living room, I knew something was off about all this. I see Amara holding Haven in her arms, her little shoulders shaking, but no sound is being made. This is the first time I have ever seen Haven sad. Then I see the anger on Amara’s face, but her eyes show pain and sadness as well. What the hell is Amara doing here with Haven?

The door closes before I make it to them to explain everything.

“You have two seconds to get the fuck out of my house, before I do and say things I cannot come back from.” The words come out so calmly, it’s sinister, sending a shiver down my own spine.

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