Page 61 of Crash

She leaves soon after. She grabs her coat and follows her aunt, Tash, Chris, and their kids out the door after saying good night to my parents.

“What happened?” Jake asks as I stand by the bar, drowning myself in whiskey.

“It’s over,” is all I say.

“What the fuck do you mean it’s over? You were buying her breakfast and sneaking kisses at the bakery a few hours ago.” He looks around the room before turning back to me. “Is this because of Zoey?” he whispers as Zoey walks our way.

“She’s using Zoey as an excuse.” I can see Jake wants to say more, but like a damn boa constrictor, Zoey has already wrapped herself around me, nearly suffocating me with the stench of her perfume.

“Fix it,” Jake says before walking away.

Zoey corners me, pressing her body into mine. She presses her lips on mine, but I can’t respond. It’s all wrong. She’s too tall. Her smell is wrong. Her hair is too perfect. She has no personality. I push her away. Too dumb to take a hint, she invites me back to the guest house on her parents’ property.

CHAPTER 34

VIVI

I can’t identify the feeling in the pit of my stomach as I watch Luke talk to Zoey from across the room. She has her hand on his upper back as she smiles up at him. He’s looking at her, fake smile plastered on his face.

After about an hour of watching them, I’m relieved when Tash decides to leave. I thank the hosts for having me and follow my family out after telling Sandy I’m going to spend the weekend with Tash and Chris.

The rest of the holiday was just a depression filled blur. With Christmas falling on a Wednesday, the office was closed on Tuesday and only opened half a day on Monday. I walked inside the building, my stomach filled with butterflies. Unsure of how I was going to interact with Luke. My first thought this morning was to call in sick, but I was too desperate to see him.

I needn’t have worried, though, because Luke took a personal day. He never mentioned a personal day. If he was planning on taking a day off, he would have tried to convince me to take it off too.

He doesn’t have to tell you anything, Vivi. You made that loud and clear. You don’t get to play the victim now.

Sandy went to her in-laws for Christmas Eve and even though I was invited, I declined and spent the day at the bakery with my aunt and Steve. Christmas morning, with no one in the house but me and my aunt, I curled into a ball on my bed and cried for hours. I cried for the neglected little girl who grew up in an unloving home. I cried for the grown woman who is so afraid of hurt and rejection that she ruined the best thing that ever happened to her. I cried for the hurt I caused Luke, who had been nothing but wonderful since we agreed to our deal. A deal I now realize was a lie on his part. He never intended for this to be just physical.

He understood me enough to know how to approach me. He understood I would have never agreed to be in an exclusive relationship, but that’s exactly what we had. We ate lunch and had dinner together most nights. We slept together almost every night after hours of sex. I would massage his body before he would hold me in his arms.

It was perfect. Looking back, he acted more like a boyfriend than a casual lover.

“What are you doing?” I asked one afternoon. It had snowed during the day, and when I went to the parking lot, I found Luke clearing off my car.

“Give me your keys.” He snatched the keys from my hand and started the car. He opened the door for me, signaling for me to step inside. While I sat and waited for the car to warm up, he cleaned the snow off and scraped my windshield clean.

When he was done, he popped his head inside, gave me a hard kiss on the lips, and told me he would follow me home. Sandy and Jake were out that night, and Luke cooked a delicious pasta dish with shrimp and linguine in a white wine sauce. I set the table, and we fed each other bites of food between kisses.

When I finally get up and look in the mirror, my eyes are red and swollen. My throat feels like I had swallowed a handful of nails, and my cheeks look sunken. With a heavy sigh and a heavy heart, I shower and dress.

If there is one thing I’m not, it’s a coward, and as such, I don’t run and hide. Except that’s exactly what I did with Luke. He poured out his heart and I ran and hid. Like a coward.

“God, I’m stupid.”

Hours after texting him Merry Christmas, I’ve still gotten no response. Before I sent the text, I called, but the phone went to voicemail after ringing several times. I put a smile on my face, but I don’t think my aunt buys my pseudo happy mood. She doesn’t say anything, but she looks at me, sucks her teeth, and shakes her head.

She made a delicious breakfast and ordered me to eat, but the food tastes like cardboard. I was grateful when she didn’t ask any questions, and we spend the day cooking and listening to Christmas Carols in French.

As I’m wrapping a few last-minute gifts for the kids, my phone rings.

Excited for the first time since I walked out of the Clark mansion, I drop everything and sprint into the guest bedroom only to be disappointed when I see my mother’s name flash across the screen. Unwilling to deal with whatever nonsense she wants to throw at me today, I hit ignore. When she calls right back, I ignore it again.

“Who is that?” my aunt asks. I look up to find her standing at the door.

“My mother,” I say as I throw the phone across the bed.

“Why you don’t answer?”

---