Chapter 57
Chapter fifty-seven
Yosh
Ilied. My bags are already packed, but I needed to get Tom out of there, I needed Jay to leave.
Tom still has to pack his carry-on.
I’ll help. He’s going to forget something; I just know it.
Warm socks, he’ll need those. Planes either blast the AC like it’s the Arctic or turn into the Sahara. There’s never an in-between.
Socks, check. And a hoodie. Something comfortable. Here’s one from their 2010 tour.
Does he even wear his own merch? No. Not his style. He’s too… him for that.
Still, it’s soft.
I toss it in anyway. He can decide later if he wants to wear it. If not, consider it impounded.
God, I hate Jay. I hate him so fucking much. That so-called apology? It wasn’t even real. More like, “Sorry, but actually this is all your fault,” wrapped up like a gift from a narcissist. Classic.
I’m so done with the cold. With this constant tension. With them, that family.
All I want is to feel the sand warming my feet again, to watch the sun dip into the ocean, to talk about simple, uncomplicated things under the stars.
And kiss. Definitely kiss. Those kisses that start soft and quickly lead to more.
I’ve never wanted something so badly in my life.
The bedroom door opens, the front door closes. Finally, he’s gone.
“Sapphire, I threw in a hoodie. Not sure if you’ll like it, though. You pick another one if you—”
I turn around, the words dying in my throat.
He’s looking at me in a way I don’t want to be looked at.
I tilt my head, waiting for him to reassure me like he always does when I’m unsure or overwhelmed. But this time, he says nothing. There’s only remorse in his eyes. My fingers clutch the hoodie as something inside me breaks.
“I… I need to stay here,” he says.
Disbelief hits. I scoff at first, but he nods, and I slowly realize what’s happening.
“Baby, please. No. You can’t do this. You’re not going to do this to me. Please don’t leave me.”
He exhales, tipping his head back. He blinks up at the ceiling, trying to clear the glassiness from his eyes.
“I have to.”
That’s all he says.
I snap.
“He didn’t come here to apologize, did he? He came here to trap you—to wrap you back in his goddamn net. And it worked!”
“Love, please, it’s not like that. Let me explain…”
“No. No, this is not happening.” My voice cracks, rising in pitch and anger. “You’re mine now! Do you hear me? YOU. ARE. MINE!”
I shove my luggage aside and storm to the door, vision burning red.
“I swear to God I’ll break his fucking jaw.”
My steps hammer down the hallway, rage pushing me forward. As I round the corner, I catch one last glimpse of the smirk tugging at Jay’s lips.
He waves at me as the elevator doors close.
I scream like I’m gripped by hellfire.
Then Finn steps out of his apartment. Wrong place. Wrong time.
“MOVE!” I snarl, shoving him aside as I run for the stairs. I feel adrenaline, hot blood pumping through my veins. I’m going to drown that motherfucker in the canal.
“YOSH, STOP!” Tom shouts behind me.
I don’t listen.
One moment my hand is on the stairwell door, the next I’m slammed to the ground. My chin hits the wooden floorboards and pain shoots up my jaw. I scream and trash against the weight pinning me down.
It’s Finn. He’s on top of me. His forearm braced between my shoulders, knees boxing my hips.
“Get the fuck off me,” I hiss, trying to twist my way out of his grip. I’m about to throw him off but a second weight slams me back onto the floor.
“YOSH, CALM THE FUCK DOWN!” Tom yells.
“GET OFF ME!” I scream, thrashing harder. I can handle a goddamn twink and a half-otter pinning me down. I’m stronger than both of them, and they know it.
“Jesus. Never topped like this before,” Finn grunts through gritted teeth.
Between my rants, I hear neighbors’ doors opening. Cameras flash in my face.
I’m past shame, and this is, as we speak, a very shameful situation I’ve landed in. One of many in my life, and counting.
I’m seconds from breaking free when a third weight lands on me. It’s Joan.
“Well, this is fun! Why are we doing this?”
“He…he’s about to kill…your father,” Tom pants.
I let out a frustrated scream. The weight of the three of them is too much.
I keep reaching for the door until my body gives out. The anger goes with it.
Moments later, I’m back in Tom’s apartment, sitting on the Chesterfield with a pack of frozen peas pressed to my face.
My jaw hurts, and I know by tomorrow there will be a nasty purple bump on my face. The scratch on my chin burns too. Damned floorboards.
Joan stands by the door and throws Tom a look that asks for reassurance. “We’re leaving now, okay?”
“We’ll be fine, Joan. Thanks.”
She and Finn walk out, the door closing behind them. The silence is thickening by the second.
I drop the ice pack onto the coffee table harder than necessary.
“I need to go. Got a plane to catch.”
“Love, please,” he says, his voice a plea. “It’s just for three months. She’s my daughter, Yosh. You have to understand.”
I inhale sharply and look away. My jaw locks. This is so fucked up.
“Once again, Jay used your guilt and your struggles with Effy to his advantage.”
The irony? It was the first thing we’d talked about at our first sit-down, and now it’s our last. I remember us on the panoramic terrace, the panic in his eyes when I suggested he try living without Jay calling the shots.
I’ve watched him grow more confident, watched him become his own person. And yet…maybe nothing has changed. Tom has chosen the cage.
I’m mad. Mad at myself, not him, for allowing this. I deserve better than this. He probably deserves better than me too.
Tom runs a hand through his hair for what feels like the hundredth time.
“I’m not blind. I see that too. But that doesn’t mean Jay’s wrong.” He lifts my chin; I jerk away.
“Please, love. I’m not doing this because Jay said so. I need to be there for Effy and make her my first priority. Maybe someday you’ll understand how that feels.”
BAM.
The slap of all slaps in my face. It hurts more than any hit of my chin on floor boards ever could.
For a moment I don’t even know where to look anymore.
There was a time I’d wanted to be a father so badly.
I whispered it to Paul during our last secret moment together.
I told him I was saving every dollar for surrogacy.
He didn’t say a word, but the smile and the stars in his eyes told me everything.
After that, as if our wishes had already aligned, he gave me his necklace and asked me to marry him.
That was the night before my transfer.
That week they’d told us we’d only be apart for “three months.”
The next day, we were separated for good.
I wish I wasn’t here in this apartment.
I wish I wasn’t in Avalon.
I wish I was in the garden Paul landscaped around our house in Portland, teaching my four-year-old the basics of algebra. She’d be as academic as I am, but still want to plant flowers, because Paul would be her hero.
She. In my dreamworld, I have a daughter. I don't know why, I just see that whenever I close my eyes.
But I am here, and I have none of that.
And I love Tom, but I'm doing it again. Everything went to hell within minutes and I crawled back into the safety of a dream that never was. It makes me wonder if I ever loved Tom enough.
I force myself to look at him through my tears.
Yes, I do love him with all my heart and beyond. That’s why this is so hard. Why is this so hard?
I try to come off more indifferent than I feel.
“Yeah, Tom. Do what you gotta do.”
Hurtful words formed by so much hurt.
My eyes flick to my watch. I’m late, but not too late.
I make the hard decision to get up and walk to the door.
“Love!” Tom’s voice stops me. I turn. “Here are the keys to the Palm Oasis villa. You can stay there while construction is going on at your place.”
He tosses them. I step aside and let them hit the floor.
“Don’t worry about me,” I say. That’s all I can manage.
I grab the suitcase I threw earlier, and pull my coat off the back of the kitchen chair.
“Please, Love. Don’t do this.” Tears gather in his eyes. “Promise me we’ll be all right…”
I don’t want to make that promise, but my heart won’t let me say no. I force a weak smile and let my hand cup his jaw. I need to memorize it.
One last kiss. I can’t leave without it. His lips are like warm velvet against mine and we stay connected for a long moment. Just once more.
“Goodbye, Tom,” I whisper against his mouth. My voice doesn’t sound like mine, and I hate every bit of it.
I turn, and just like that, I walk out the door.
The suitcase rolls behind me.
I take my time getting to the elevator. I don’t look back, but I hope, I desperately hope he’ll come after me.
That hope stays with me as I leave the building. It follows me as I walk through the terminal, standing in line to check in, and even as I hand over my boarding pass at the gate.
I keep hoping, even as I settle into my seat, even as the cabin lights dim and the engines roar.
And the moment the plane’s wheels leave the runway, in that split second of weightlessness, I realize that Tom McKenna isn’t coming after me and everything will return to how it was before he walked in and turned my life upside down.