26. Grae #3
Amanda catches on before I do. “No! Not anal sex. He just called me the wrong name,” she squeaks and then slaps a hand over her mouth.
Alana smacks my other leg, this time with a smirk. “You dummy. You were sleeping with the most beautiful woman in the world, and your stupid brain wouldn’t let you focus?”
Shame and humiliation battle in my mind, then team up and form a supergroup to attack my already cracked ego. I rest my elbows on my thighs and drop my head into the space between my arms, rubbing my skull.
“Whose name did you say?” Someone asks. I can’t place the voice.
Lance maybe? My eyes squeeze shut as her name and that moment replay in my head.
The blonde hair. The way she feels beneath me.
The way my mind loops on one fantasy. Her name came out because her name is always on my mind.
Then the room erupts with ‘ohhhh, dude,’ and laughter. I want to die.
“Dude, your brain is such a stupid place,” CJ says, laughing again. “You couldn’t even get over your high school ex?”
“The fact that you’re not dead is a testament to Amanda’s patience and restraint,” Lena says, then finally slams the hammer down on the lock. Metal snaps and rattles. And all my answers spill onto the floor.
I lift my head, and Alana watches me. There was a time when I loved watching her think—words and problems swirling in her head as she built solutions.
The unlocked box captivates her, and something about her changes.
It isn’t just the armor she’s put on during this hellish conversation.
It’s a false kind of bravery. No—this is different, and I can’t place it. Then I realized why.
I’ve never seen this look on her before.
“I cheated on you!” Alana yells out. “That’s why we broke up.”
An electric shockwave courses through the room, but that look is still in Alana’s eyes. Her pupils are pinpricks. What is it? And why does it look so unnatural on her?
“I cheated on you,” she repeats. “With Thiago and Lance. It was late. I was hanging out at Thiago’s place after working out. I took a shower, came out in a towel, and it just… happened.”
The words hit me, but they don't land. Alana cheated? No. I’ve seen her angry and scared. But this is different. That's when it hits me.
Alana has never lied to me before. So why now?
“AHHHHH!” Lance grabs his head and shoves back what little hair he has, his panic confirming my thoughts.
She’s lying. “WHY?” His voice cracks, “Alana, that’s a life-ruining lie!
” He paces, directionless. “I would walk through hell and fire for you, and this is how you repay me? Fuck, my father-in-law would kill me if he thought that shit was true. Izzy would leave me. I’d never see my son again.
” He clutches his chest. “Jesus Christ, I need a minute.” He circles once, then slumps against the wall.
“God, you and Thiago. I’m going to throw up.
” He bolts toward the back hallway where the bathroom is.
Everyone else stares at Alana in stunned silence. Then Craig leans in and whispers loudly, “I think you might be lying.”
“You don’t know me well enough to assume that.” Alana mutters, finishing the last of her wine. Then she sinks back into the couch, pouting.
“I’d be mad if it were true,” I say, watching her. “But it’s clearly not.”
She glares at me, then dips her head, a rare moment of relent. “A few days ago. I told you our parting words. That you only came back for one final screw, but you can’t remember what I said back?”
I flinch. I can’t. It’s still blackness. The room fills with sounds of moral disgust, and I can only stare at the carpet between my feet. I hear her stand, and then her shoes enter my vision. Then her legs, then her knees. She cups the back of my neck, lifting my chin with the other hand.
“Grae, your brain is a strange and wonderful place,” she says softly.
“But it’s also incredibly guarded. You lose painful moments.
It shields you from trauma. Whatever is in that box cost you six months of your life.
” She kneels in front of me, brushing my hair with her free hand.
Her touch centers me and my heartbeat slows because the lies leave her eyes. She’s mine again.
“It’s not worth it.” Her forehead rests against mine.
All the certainty of yesterday, everything I’ve felt in the past hour, settles into place. I can predict what she’s going to say and do. Because no matter what happens, she’s still Alana. And she’s trying to shelter me at her own expense. “It’s fine,” she starts, but I press a finger to her lips.
“Shh. No.” I shake my head. “You don’t think you’re worth the pain.” She pulls back, but I reach for her. “I’ve spent the last few years hating whatever asshole hurt you. And it was me. I broke you. Whatever is in that box will give us the answer, the diagnosis, so maybe we can find the cure.”
She shifts, her voice barely audible beneath the hum of the air conditioner, “I’m scared.”
I pull her into my chest. God, she feels right here. Forever. I want her here forever.
“Let’s open the box together.”