The Choices We Make
Keaton | The Past
Choices.
In the end, life is nothing but a string of choices, each one charting the course from where you begin to where you ultimately land.
From the instant your eyes blink open, you’re faced with a decision: rise to meet the day or retreat beneath the covers. By nightfall, your day is crowded with the echoes of every choice you made.
Good ones.
Bad ones.
Choices that defy logic and others you’d defend with your last breath.
Some leave you floating in happiness, tangled up in love.
Others carve scars into you or someone else, marks that never quite fade.
Reckless choices and a small orange bottle rattling with antibiotics.
That’s the chain around my neck for the next fourteen fucking days.
The pills clatter softly, rattling in their plastic prison as my hands tremble.
My mind goes back to the Pharmacy Tech’s masked expression.
She stayed professional as she explained the medication instructions.
I imagine it would be hard not to feel some pity for people filling prescriptions like mine.
Even though doxycycline treats other things, the shame burning in my cheeks probably let her know why I needed it.
It's the closest pharmacy to campus—a place known for bad decisions, like cheating and sexually transmitted diseases.
I just never imagined I'd be one of the statistics.
A glass of water waits on the table, taunting me with the reason it exists at all.
With a throat tight as a fist, I twist the cap and let a blue capsule fall into my palm, silent tears tracing down my cheeks.
This is what my life has shrunk to because I was a fucking idiot, blind to my own mistakes.
I was the fool who thought I could handle being friends with a girl I found attractive.
The first time I was late meeting Charlie because of Rianna, I should have walked away.
I remember telling Rianna I needed to meet my girlfriend, but every time she spoke, I let myself get tangled deeper in her web.
But why? Why did I ignore how she kept pulling me back, always finding ways to keep my attention? It’s not just on her. I was the idiot who let it happen. Looking back, I see she was playing me, and I let her deal the cards.
Mom is right. I need to figure out and understand why I let that happen. I need to know where I veered off course and slid my foot out of my relationship for the first time.
After forcing down the pill and wrestling with my churning stomach, I wipe away my tears and slam the bottle onto the table.
I’ve cried more since the night I detonated my life than ever before. It pisses me off, these tears that do nothing but bleed out the pain and guilt I drag around.
Pain and guilt have to stay put, because I need to feel them.
They’re my reminders of how easy it was to lose my way, and my fuel to never end up here again.
Even if Charlie never forgives me, I can’t let myself return to this place.
The self-hate is new, raw, and I have no idea if it will ever fade.
I have to live with the truth that something inside me twisted enough to make betraying the love of my life seem easy.
Mom and Dad always asked who I wanted to be. I never had an answer—until now.
I don’t want to be this person. Not the guy who cheats on someone who deserved better. Not the guy who spends his life aching for the one he destroyed. Not the fucking guy Charlie spends her life hating.
So don’t be him.
Charlie's voice sounds so loud in my head that I almost look around to see if she's standing in the room with me.
"I'm not going to be, butterfly," I whisper, making one last promise to the girl that's not here.
Grabbing my phone, I pull up her contact information and start a new message thread. That's just another reason I hate myself. Not only did I lose all our pictures together when I lost my phone, but now I've lost all our messages, too.
ME
Charlie, I know you told me not to contact you, but I have something important I’d like to discuss with you. It’s too much for me to ask you to meet so that I can tell you, but I’m pleading with you anyway. If you accept, the time and location are up to you.
While waiting to see if Charlie messages back, I pull up my web browser and dig into the research that Mom told me to do.
I find a few that specialize in infidelity, with pretty good reviews, that practice in Granite Bay, so I write down the numbers in the notebook with all my other notes.
Thankfully, the ones I found are highly sought after, and they specialize in both individual and couples sessions.
Now, I just have to hope I'm lucky enough to find one of them with an opening.
Since I still haven't heard anything from Charlie by the time we hang up, I call some of the numbers I wrote down.
The first two inform me that there are no openings for new clients over the next six months, and I do my best not to feel discouraged.
I finally get lucky with the fourth one and get an appointment set up for next week.
Right before I finish the call, a text from Charlie comes through. For some reason, I take that as a sign that I'm going in the right direction, so I'll take what I can get. Even if it is just bullshit in my head.
MY BUTTERFLY
I’ll meet you, but I have rules. We’ll meet in public. Grinders will work. Mel will be with me, so if it’s not something you can say in front of her, then keep it to yourself. You don’t touch me.
I read her last sentence again and again, letting the pain wrap around my heart. They’re thorns I planted myself, each beat driving them deeper, their poison working slow and sure.
This is the bare minimum of what I deserve, and I’ll keep carrying the weight of my sins as penance.
ME
I accept. Thank you.
MY BUTTERFLY
Don’t thank me. I reserve the right to throat punch you if I don’t like what you have to say.
The message bubble appears again, and I wait, holding my breath. She could tell me to eat shit and I’d still be grateful, because as long as she’s talking, there’s hope I can fix this.
MY BUTTERFLY
And Carr? Right now, I don’t like anything you tell me.
A pathetic sigh escapes when she uses my last name. It’s her wall, separating the boy she loved from the man who broke her.
ME
What time should I prepare for the punch to my throat?
MY BUTTERFLY
Stop trying to be cute. All it does is remind me of the times you were that way with her. Be there in an hour. I’ll wait five minutes before I leave. You get ten minutes of my time, Carr. You’re lucky I’m meeting you at all, so I’d use them wisely.
I blow out a shaky breath and rake a hand through my hair as grim acceptance roots itself inside me.
I’ll take whatever scraps I can get.
Something tells me I'm going to be reminding myself of that for a long time because I've still got so far to go to make up for what I did.
??
On my way to Grinders, I notice people aren’t avoiding me anymore. They don’t start conversations, but I get the occasional nod, a silent acknowledgment.
Pulling open the doors to the coffee shop, I’m met with the same cautious reactions. My shoulders loosen a little. A few people shoot me dirty looks, and I meet them with my own silent apologies as I head to the counter.
It’s more grace than I deserve, and I know Charlie is the reason.
I watched her speech in the mess hall, felt the pain in every word.
I hate that she had to bare herself like that.
I would have taken any punishment, just so she wasn’t the only one hurting.
Still, I’m grateful for the mercy she offered, even though she didn’t owe me a thing.
After ordering drinks for Charlie, Amelia, and me, I find a seat with a view of the door.
Normally, I'd go for a booth that gives us privacy, but I lost the right to that type of intimacy with her.
It's not like my cheating and the possibility of catching something isn't public knowledge, anyway.
Rianna made sure of the latter, and my stupidity is the reason for the former.
Jerica sits with her boyfriend, Reggie, and I avoid looking their way. The heat of her dislike prickles my skin. I can’t blame her. Rianna slept with her last boyfriend, too.
She'd like nothing more than to chop off my nuts and have them framed up in town for all the world to see.
—Here lie the nuts of Keaton Carr. A man who was stupid enough to fuck around and find out.—
My sad chuckle melts into the low hum of conversation, the grind of coffee beans, and the sharp hiss of espresso machines.
I close my eyes and breathe in the familiar scents, memories of waiting for Charlie to finish her shift flooding back.
People always gravitated to her, like wanderers drawn to a fire after too long in the cold.
Charlie is woven into every part of my life, so deep it’s impossible to understand why I did what I did. When did I get so weak that I became just another cheating statistic?
Charlie deserves better than me. Better than the guy I was, and the one I am now.
I'm sure Alek would love nothing more than to slide right into that position. He's been nosing after my girl since we started at Granite Bay University. I've never worried about Charlie with another guy. I was always secure in the knowledge of her love for me.
I drop my head into my hands as the truth finally hits. I took her and her love for granted. Somewhere along the way, I lost sight of who Charlie was and what she meant to me.
My eyes burn as tears gather. How did I lose sight of the most beautiful person in my world?
God, I’ve fucked up worse than I ever thought possible. I’ll spend my life making amends for the damage I caused. Charlie is my priority, but she’s not the only one I hurt. Amelia, her parents, my parents—they’re all names on the list of people I need to make peace with.
My phone pings with an incoming message, and I flip it over, expecting to see something from Charlie, but it's a number I don't recognize.
UNKNOWN
Why r u ignoring me, Keaton? We don’t have 2 hide from her anymore & we can finally b 2gether, baby.
This is what we’ve been waiting on since we met.
Anger floods my vision as I read, and before I can stop myself, my fingers fly over the keyboard. There’s only one person who would send these fucking messages.
ME
You’re fucking delusional. I’m ignoring you because I can’t fucking stand you or myself anymore. I was never hiding anything from Charlie because there was nothing to hide.
I hate you and I wish to fucking god I never met you. I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting every minute I ever spent with you bc it’s time I could have given to the love of my life.
Fuck off, Rianna. I want nothing else to do with you. You gave me Chlamydia.
Before I can get my fingers to move fast enough to block her, another text comes through, and stupidly, I take the time to read it when I should have just deleted them all.
UNKNOWN
U can tell urself there was nothing 2 hide all u want, baby.
But we both know it’s not true. U wanted me as much as I wanted u.
It’s why u stayed friends w/me and let us grow closer.
It’s why u told me stuff about u all & why u just brushed off all the advances I made @ u.
Don’t fool urself, baby. U were in a relationship w/me from the moment we met.
U just took longer to break than the others.
Men are weak creatures & if u tempt them long enough w/something they desire, they’ll give in to their baser instincts.
They always do bc I make sure of it. I had to ensure she wouldn’t take u back.
My brain works too fast to really process her words right now, but I'm fucking sure she just admitted to purposely exposing me to a sexually transmitted disease.
ME
Why would you give me Chlamydia? Who purposely does something like that?
UNKNOWN
Bc ur mine. I got tired of waiting for u to leave her. U belong w/me, Keaton. I’m ur future. She was just ur childhood sweetheart. U said it urself that she’s the only 1 u been with. I’m not mad @ u for ignoring me, baby. But it’s over now. Come back 2 me. I know u miss me.
A bitter laugh slips out. How did I miss the signs? Did I desire her so much that I chose to stay blind? If that’s true, it means I spent the whole time in denial about Rianna—and about myself.
ME
I don’t know how the hell I missed the signs of your craziness. Leave me the fuck alone, or I'll go to the police for harassment.
Blocking someone like Rianna probably won’t stop her, but it’s a line I need to draw for my own sanity.
There's no way she's right. The only person I was in a relationship with was Charlie.
But was I really?
How fucking sad is it that I can’t even answer that question honestly? Not even when I’m alone with myself.
Next week can’t come fast enough. I’m ready to dig through my own mind and find out where it all went wrong.