17. Chocolate Apologies
CHOCOLATE APOLOGIES
I’m a mess.
One of my repeat shows is on, it’s basically background noise at this point. Michelangelo is sitting between my legs and I stalk my DoorDash driver on my phone.
I didn’t just double dash. I fucking triple dashed. Currently, Marvin is on his way to my house with Chicken Alfredo, Oreo cookies, and a bottle of Moscato. I haven’t showered in two days, and my hair clearly shows it as I sit here and feel sorry for myself.
The only solace I can take is that my uterine lining is currently waging war against my body at the moment. It’s also why I’m giving myself grace over the way I handled the whole twin switcheroo situation.
God, I was more vocally angry with them than I was when Will told me he got his mistress pregnant.
I’m absolutely blaming the mimosas and my luteal phase for my absolute freak out. Even though I feel like I had every right to be as pissed as I was, I mean, who does that? Maybe my trauma made the situation worse, but what they did was messed up.
I thought I found the guy that I could really safely experiment with. Someone I could put trust in to go further with my kink exploration and he turns out to be a literal two-faced liar.
Maybe I should have heard them out. Maybe I shouldn’t care so much about the whole ordeal when we never made any promises to each other.
A bunch of what ifs won’t do me shit. Right now, all I feel is sad.
There’s a knock at my door and my brows furrow. I chose for the driver to leave everything at the door so he wouldn’t have to see me braless or the shame of grabbing all my purchases. I did leave him a large tip for going multiple places.
When I open the door, it isn’t Marvin. My stomach churns, not because I’m desperate for my alfredo, which I am, but because of who’s standing on my doorstep.
It’s one of the twins, the one I suspect to be Ben, based on his unblemished face. I hold the door close to my hip, not letting him see the inside of my house as he looks sheepishly down at me. Thankfully, there isn’t pity in his gaze, just concern.
“I brought you this,” he says, holding out a heart-shaped chocolate cake with the sparkled words ‘We Fucked Up’ on the top of it.
“Where’s it from?”
“Publix,” he says, and I hold out my hands to take the offering.
It’s definitely better than the Oreos I have headed my way.
“Do you think…do you think I could come in and maybe explain what happened? I don’t expect your forgiveness, but I’d like to at least tell you our side of things,” he says, and he looks so charming and handsome.
The petty side of me that I'm slightly concerned about wants to slam the door in his face. The pathetic, emotional wreck that I am, however, wins, because I do want to know what happened. Plus, the cake doesn’t hurt. It’s better than flowers or showing up empty handed.
“My place is kind of a mess,” I say as I open the door, and he follows me.
I place his peace offering on the table, fully intending on eating that entire cake on my own tonight. Even if his explanation or apology sucks, at least I’ll have cake.
“You haven’t been to Avalon in awhile,” he says, as he glances around my house.
Stacks of books are piled everywhere. There may be a wine bottle or two on top of empty water bottles, and a bag of chips that I quickly roll up and put on the coffee table.
“I’m on my period. It has nothing to do with you or Gavin,” I say, probably too sharply. His cheeks redden, but he quickly shrugs me off.
“Sorry.” He clears his throat. “It’s just we were hoping to see you there and explain.
We didn’t do anything with anyone else while we were there,” he says, as I move a blanket and offer him a place to sit on the brown, contemporary sofa I’ll never get rid off.
It was one of Aunt Helene’s most prized possessions, and now it’s mine.
“It’s none of my business what you and your brother do at Avalon.”
He scratches the back of his neck and nods. Michaelangelo, the absolute traitor, rubs against Ben’s legs and without hesitation, he pets the orange turncoat as he pieces his thoughts together.
“The whole situation is my fault,” he says, clearing his throat, petting my cat as a distraction, not looking at me.
“You were beautiful, and you thought I was Gavin. I was going to come clean, but then you showed me your list. It’s difficult for me to find women who are into what I like.
A lot of the time they want to switch it off and on, and I get that, it’s easier to manage when Gavin and I share someone.
They can be submissive to him and I can be submissive to them. ”
“You and your brother share?” I say with a swallow.
Maybe a very hot threesome pops into my head, but I’m still mad, so I very quickly diminish that fantasy. Bad Kate. We’re not forgiving them or even contemplating letting them touch me again, let alone both of them. But damn, if it isn’t an unreal visual.
“Yeah. It’s something we do pretty often.
But, like I said, it’s hard for me to find women who are interested in being with just me.
Some women want to be too dominant for my liking, others only like being what I want when I pay them to be.
It’s just rare. And there you were, small and so fucking pretty, and you wanted to be in charge.
One of the biggest turn-ons for me is having a petite woman tell me what to do,” he says, picking up my cat and cuddling him close to his chest.
I briefly look away from him, because that part of our dynamic is also a big turn on for me. With both of them, it had been. I liked how large he was and the fact that he was at my will. Then, on the flip side, I liked how large he was when he took control of me. Well, Gavin, I guess.
It also strikes me how brutally honest he’s being, that he even mentions having ever paid for sex, beyond paying for Avalon. He’s being vulnerable, and I think he’s telling me the whole truth.
“When I say it’s the best sex I’ve ever had, I’m not lying.
As soon as I left Avalon, I felt so goddamn guilty and I told Gavin right away.
We had a plan to tell you. He was going to tell me if you showed up at Avalon and vice versa.
I don’t want to speak for Gavin, but I was working a bachelorette party on one of our party boats and couldn’t get there that night you were with Gav.
Again, I don’t want to speak for him, but he saw you were upset and thought he could make it better. ”
I take a deep breath, remembering how upset I was that night and how he really did make me feel so much better. Fuck, I started painting again after that night. When I glance over at him and push up my glasses, he gives me a soft smile.
“I think you look really pretty with your glasses.”
“No. Don’t be charming right now. Continue your story,” I say, even though I’m flattered.
I look like shit right now, and he seems completely nervous.
He gives me a soft smirk, stroking Mikey's coat, and the cat is rubbing his head against his chest, covering him in orange fur. Ben doesn’t seem to mind whatsoever.
“Right. Then I ran into you at the gym. You thought I was married to Penny, which is hilarious, but we’ll get into that another time.
I texted Gavin to come to the diner so that we could sit down and tell you the truth, and that’s when he was in the car accident.
We were waiting for him to heal up before we tried to find you at Avalon, but then you showed up and everything went to shit. ”
“Why should I believe anything you’re telling me? How do I know this isn’t something you two get off on?” I ask, because as badly as I want to believe him, I’ve been burned before.
He swallows and nods his head a few times, trying to articulate what he wants to say.
“You don’t have to believe me, or forgive me—us. I just wanted you to know our side of things. We both feel terrible and the last thing we wanted to do was hurt you, because fuck, Kate, you’re like perfect.”
This time my cheeks heat. Perfect? Me? I’m an absolute disaster.
I shake my head as my phone chimes and I see that Marvin is here with my food. I need some time to mull over what Ben said. I get up and grab the to-go bag, the non-discreet bottle of wine and my Oreos by my front door.
“No judgment,” I say as I place them all on the table next to his apology cake.
“Not from me,” he says, petting Mikey before placing him on the couch as he stands to his full height.
As large as he is, he’s also gentle as he slides his hands in the pockets of his shorts.
“I’d understand if you don’t want to see me or my brother again.
Thank you for listening, and if you’re ever open to being friends, just know that I’d really like that,” he says, giving me the sweetest dimpled smile. “Enjoy the cake.”
He leaves my home without me saying another word and something loosens in my chest.
I may or may not cry while drinking the bottle of wine and half the heart cake later that night. My thoughts filled with ever confusing feelings about what I want and what I deserve.
I could feel my ass getting bigger. Between not going back to the gym again and the exorbitant amount of takeout I was devouring, I needed to make a change.
That’s why my stupid ass is at Trader Joe’s on a Saturday and I’m questioning every mistake I’ve ever made in my life.
Trader Joe’s is like a grocery store created in an alternate reality.
No one knows how to act. The store is too small, and despite its poor design and tremendous crowd, I’m still here because their food is amazing.
I’m shit in the kitchen, and they have the best freezer meals that even someone like me can’t fuck up, not to mention that they’re portioned to where I can usually eat all the meal in one sitting, or one half for lunch and the other for dinner.