Chapter 19 I Made My Bed
I Made My Bed
Keaton | The Past
I roll my shoulders, stretching my aching back, trying to shake off the stiffness that comes from hours in the same spot. After sending my last client off with their aftercare spiel, I scrub down my station, eager to escape and finally drag myself home.
Therapy in the morning, work all day, so by the end, there’s nothing left in me.
That’s been my routine since everything fell apart two months ago.
I stay busy, afraid of the quiet times when my mind replays the same old story: everything I had, everything I lost. Charlie and I are the leads in a love story that crashed and burned all because I couldn’t stay faithful.
I’m working as a tattoo artist, using my Fine Arts degree, but that’s not what I pictured myself doing. I always planned to run my own shop with Charlie and Amelia.
Now, that dream lies shattered, buried beneath the mess I made with my own betrayal.
As I clean up the shop, my mind wanders, drifting through the wreckage of my choices.
Graduation was a shit show, just as I expected. Another neon sign flashing my fuck up for everyone to see.
My parents sat isolated, separated from their old friends, their eyes flicking toward Charlie and her family with a sadness that said everything. They love me, so they stayed, but I could see the wish for a different ending written all over their faces.
Hell, I did too.
When the dean called Charlie’s name, my parents cheered for her as if she were their own.
When my name echoed, her parents' voices faded into silence. What gutted me most was catching sight of Charlie’s tears in the crowd as I crossed the stage.
My feet almost carried me to her, but Alek’s arms around her were a clear sign I didn’t belong there anymore.
The daggers in people’s eyes when Rianna shouted my name sent me scurrying off the stage, head down. I wanted to run until I left my mistakes behind, but I know better. That stain is permanent.
Too bad I wasn't fucking smart enough to walk the hell away when Charlie warned me the first time about Rianna.
I haven’t spoken a word to Rianna since the day I replied to her at Grinders, but she won’t leave me alone.
She sends messages from different numbers and follows me around the city.
She even came to the shop until Bear, another owner, put a stop to that bullshit.
When she kept showing up at the apartment Charlie and I shared, I eventually had to move back in with my parents.
One fucking stupid choice has caused so much havoc in the lives of those around me.
How the hell did I not see any instability in the year I was friends with her?
I can almost hear Charlie’s sarcastic snort at the word ‘friends.’ Everyone says it was more, that I was deep in an emotional affair, and I’m finally starting to see it. It makes me sick to realize I handed over a place that always belonged to Charlie.
Thankfully, it shouldn't be much longer before Rianna's out of our lives.
I've been working with some other men and their partners to press criminal charges against her.
It seems I'm not the first dude she's pulled this stalking, manipulative bullshit with and knowingly infected them with Chlamydia.
Some didn't want to come forward, pride and humiliation stopping them, but their wives and girlfriends weren't having that shit.
So much about Rianna has come to light, and it makes me sick that I fell for it.
I'm not lying it at her feet—not all of it, anyway.
I own my part in the destruction of my life, but I've been finding out the last two months that she's not as innocent as she likes to play off.
Not as innocent as I stupidly assumed she was.
Not only did she fuck around with all these men in relationships and give them an STD, but in her previous town, she did the same thing and ended up knocked up twice because of it.
Her parents had to move because of the embarrassment.
They kept her youngest daughter, who is only four, but her oldest daughter, who she had at sixteen, was in the custody of the kid's biological father.
I used to think I was smarter than this, immune to temptation. Turns out, I’m more fallible than I ever believed. Facing the truth that I betrayed the one person I thought I’d love forever is brutal.
Swallowing this truth feels like choking on glass.
Shit.
Even admitting I cheated on the love of my life is a jagged pill I can barely swallow.
How do I make peace with the man I was before Rianna and the one I became after? It’s tempting to pretend I was two different people, but that’s just a lie. I’m still me. I just let the worst parts take over.
Luckily, my therapist is helping me work through all this.
The detective uncovered more than fifty affairs Rianna had with men all over Granite Bay—young, old, it didn’t matter. Normally, I’d say it’s her business, but there’s something twisted about targeting men in relationships, trying to steal them, infect them, and keep them tethered to her.
It’s pure madness.
If these other guys weren’t pressing charges with me, I doubt we’d ever hold her accountable.
I just wish I knew how much longer this would drag on. I need it over so I can finally try to make things right with Charlie.
If that's even possible.
Alek’s been waiting in the shadows, ready to catch Charlie the moment she lets him. After all these years, I can see she’s close to giving in. I want to beg her not to, but that’s not my place anymore.
Plus, I'd be a hypocritical son of a bitch if I tried pulling that.
All I can do is watch from the sidelines as their friendship deepens, hoping against hope she doesn’t choose him.
Fuck.
I don't want to watch her with anyone, especially not Alek. Just thinking about it has chills breaking out, and my stomach cramps with nausea. And that's just thinking about it. I don't even want to know what my reaction will be if I have to see him getting everything that I want.
Her touches, her kisses, her whispered words, her love.
All the things that once belonged to me.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, an unknown number lighting up the screen. I shouldn’t open it. It’s only ever been one person lately. No matter how many times I block her, she always finds a new way to worm back in.
It takes a second for the image to register, and when it does, I barely make it to the trash can before I’m heaving up my lunch.
Fucking pathetic.
Charlie saw me with another girl and didn’t lose her composure, but here I am, doubled over a trash can just from seeing her kiss someone else.
Once I'm sure nothing else is coming up, I pull my shirt off and wipe my mouth before tossing it into the garbage and sitting back on my calves. Grabbing the phone, I zoom in on the picture to check the details a little more objectively.
It’s almost impossible, but I manage. Or at least, I pretend I do.
Charlie’s got Alek’s tie wrapped around her hand, leaning over the counter to meet his mouth. Her eyes are closed, her face relaxed in pleasure. Alek’s eyes stay open, hungry, like he’s afraid to blink and miss a second.
That’s a man who knows he’s exactly where he wants to be, with the only person he wants.
The longer I stare, the tighter my chest squeezes, black spots flickering at the edges of my vision. My breath comes in ragged bursts, rattling in my chest.
This picture drives the knife in deeper. I never even kissed Rianna. Kissing is too intimate, too sacred. Charlie would never believe that, but it’s true. Seeing her share that with Alek tells me she’s serious about moving on. It burrows into my chest and twists.
Holy shit.
The world turns blurry as tears fill my eyes. I fucked up so badly. Every day, the truth hits harder, like a punch I never see coming.
Honestly, if it wasn't for my therapist, my parents, or Brock and Kayla, the couple that works at the shop with me, I don't know where the hell my mind would be.
Writing the letters Lionel has me do helps me process. I’ve never been good at expressing feelings. I always managed to show my love, but talking openly always made me nervous.
Maybe that’s where things started to crack—my inability to open up, to actually talk.
Charlie was always the one who wasn't afraid of that stuff.
I don't know why I'm that way. My parents have one of the most loving relationships I've ever seen, aside from Charlie's parents'. They're always big on communication, so why the hell did I develop the inability to do it?
It's just another item on Lionel's long list of things for us to touch on. 'Course it's down the list a way because there's so much other bullshit we have to dig into first. Shit I never thought was wrong with me.
Wiping away the tears, trying to erase the evidence, I push myself to my feet.
I planned to go home, shower, and crash, but now all I want is to drown myself in as much alcohol as it takes to forget.
Twenty minutes later, just as I’m about to lock up, my phone buzzes again. This time, dread knots in my stomach. I should have ignored it.
MY BUTTERFLY
I kissed Alek today. Twice. I agreed to go on a date with him.
I felt his dick against my leg and thought about letting him take me against the door of my apartment. But then I realized it would be too much like you. Want to know the difference, though? I'm single, and you weren't.
Who knows what will happen on the date? They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. We all know I want to get over your cheating ass.
My fingers fly over the keyboard before my brain can catch up, then slow, then stop completely.
I scowl, erase, and start again, but nothing fits in the tiny text box. I type, delete, repeat. After one last failed attempt, I wipe it all away.
MY BUTTERFLY
Keep your girlfriend on a leash like the bitch she is. If she comes by my work again, I'm going to press charges for harassment.
My grip tightens on the phone as anger, sorrow, and love crash together inside me.
This is on me.
I cheated on the love of my life, and now the love of my life is moving on.
A bitter laugh slips out as I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to hold myself together.
As Lionel says, I made my bed. The only thing I can do now is lie in it. These are the consequences of my actions, and I have to accept them.
And I'm going to because I know the pain I feel now is not even half of what Charlie has been feeling for the last year.