Page 115 of Damnation
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Thomas snaps.
“After she left, you came downstairs. You were tense, mad. So I asked how you were doing, and you started telling me that you were so fucking done. You said she was making your life impossible. And that you couldn’t take it anymore.”
I’mmakinghislife impossible.
Hecan’t take it anymore.
“So we had a few drinks, and you took me upstairs because you didn’t want to be in the middle of all the chaos down there. We did a few lines, and when I was about to leave, you stopped me.” She approaches the two of us. “I tried to reason with you, tell you that you weren’t doing the right thing, but you didn’t give me a chance to talk. You grabbed me and fucked me on that desk…and then on that sofa…and finally in the bed…”
He interrupts her. “Bullshit! I don’t remember any of that.”
She giggles. “Well, with all the shit swimming around in your system, I’m surprised you still remember your name.” She picks up herdress from the floor, buried amongst Thomas’s clothes, and then, with a malicious grin, she informs me, “Not a smart move, telling him you love him.”
It feels like I’m dying. I can’t even swallow for the lump in my throat.
“Get the fuck out of here!” Thomas shouts at Shana, his fingers still gripping my shoulders. He holds me like he’s trying to keep me there with him for as long as possible, like he’s afraid that the moment he lets go, he’ll never get me back again.
And it’s true.
He’s lost me. He’s lost me forever.
I won’t be able to look at him again without seeing Shana and him together. Talking together, getting drunk together, kissing and touching each other. Her, naked in that bed. The same bed where he said he had brought only me. Him taking her there. While I was shattered into pieces. Alone, wounded, and ashamed because of him.
Now, even his scent disgusts me. I’m disgusted that he’s still touching me. Everything about him disgusts me. I thought I had experienced the apex of suffering last night. I thought that was the worst nightmare I’d have to live through. But I was so wrong. This is the real nightmare.
I jerk away from him, and without having the slightest idea where I’m going, I run away. My mind is hazy with hurt. With rage. I want to disappear. Get as far away from him as I possibly can. Far away from this place that can only bring back crushing memories.
“Ness! Fuck, stop!” he shouts from the room, but I’m already down the stairs.
I see Thomas’s keys hanging on the hook by the front door, and in a fit of madness, I grab them and run out the door. I start the car and hit the gas, peeling out at top speed. I don’t want to be caught. I don’t want to be touched. I don’t want to be seen. I don’t want anything anymore.
I drive for endless, aimless miles. My phone rings constantly, and all I do is cry. I cry bitter tears that I can’t hold back. The image of Shana naked in our bed materializes in front of me. Thomas’s clothes tossed around the room. Cocaine on the bedside table. He told her. He toldher about our fight, about the problems we had. He even told her that I love him. Then they got high together, and then they had sex. He…my Thomas…in our bed with someone else. I’m crying so hard that my vision blurs, and without realizing it, I’m veering into the other lane. A car honks and almost hits me. I steer hard to the right. The tires screech, and for a second, I think I’m screwed, but then, fortunately, the wheels get a grip back on the asphalt, and I emerge unscathed. The other car too. The panic that seizes me afterwards is so intense that it forces me out of the car immediately.
I press my hands to my chest in an attempt to calm my breathing. I’m wheezing so hard that it feels like my lungs might burst at any moment. Some passersby stop their cars and ask if I’m okay, if I need to call someone for help. With my legs and arms shaking, I tell them that I’m fine. “It’s all right,” I tell them and myself. At least I can stand upright. It was just a big scare. Just a huge lapse on my part that could have had much worse consequences. I could slap myself. I lean back against the car door and breathe deep as I run my hands through my hair, pulling it back. I look up toward the sky, which is blanketed in grayish clouds. The first drops of rain start falling, bathing my face and hair.
I glance around, trying to get a bead on where I am. When I figure it out, I nearly burst out laughing. It’s a nervous laugh. Hysterical. Despairing. I ran away from the frat house because I wanted to get as far away as possible from Thomas and anything that might remind me of him. And then my subconscious or whatever the hell else had me driving in circles until it brought me right to a place that is more him than anywhere else. I’m just outside of Chip Ross Park, at the trailhead that leads into the woods. The woods where his tree house is hidden.
When I’m able to breathe regularly again, I get back in the car and decide to park it in a lot not too far away. Then I step out. I lock the car with the remote and start off on the trail. I don’t know why I’m doing it, but I am doing it.
I walk on, undaunted, arms wrapped around myself, rain seeping into my clothes, until I reach the tree. Our tree. Drops of rain rundown my cheeks along with the tears as I lift my head up to the look at the little house above me. I’m not going up. I’ll stay down. I sit down on the ground, pressing my back against the tree’s trunk and pulling my knees up close to my chest as cold shivers wrack my body. And it’s here that I allow myself to be overwhelmed by despair. By the pain that bursts forth with all its strength. Memories run through my mind like stills from a movie. And they hurt. They hurt so bad that the only thing I can think is that I wish I never met him. I wish I never talked to him. I hate him. I hate him terribly. He promised me that he’d never do that to me. He promised. And like a moron, I believed him.
I don’t know exactly how long I stay at the foot of the tree, but when I see the sun going down, I realize that it’s getting late. Part of me doesn’t want to leave. There are so many memories tied up in this place, and I’m not ready to leave them behind me. But I have to. Everything I experienced with Thomas—good and bad—has been blown apart in the worst way. I gave him everything I had. I tried to save him in every possible way, to get close to him, to know him. Right up until the end, I hoped that despite the challenges and the differences between us, we would eventually be able to find a way make it work.
But some things simply aren’t meant to be. The two of us are one of those things.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, seeing about ten missed calls from Thomas. I trash them all, feeling a sense of déjà vu. I broke up with Travis because I found out he cheated on me. I ran away from him and ignored his calls, just like I’m doing now with Thomas. Is this what I am condemned to do? To relive all of my life’s mistakes like I’m in a damn time loop?
It’s pathetic. My whole life is.
My fingers scroll through my contacts, looking for a number as if they have a mind of their own. There’s no reason to do this. I’m messed up. That’s the only reason I have.
“Vanessa?”
“Hi.” My voice is low. Without emotion. I almost don’t recognizeit anymore. “I need you to come get me.”
“Did something happen?”
“Yes.”
