53. Lavinia
FIFTY-THREE
LAVINIA
Life has a funny way of making you its bitch. Some days you’re going up, some days you’re going down. Roman and I are blissfully happy. People don’t know what being blissfully happy feels like. It feels like fear.
I’m kidding. Mostly. I mean, everyone who’s ever been really happy in their life knows that that feeling isn’t going to stick around. Roman doesn’t believe me because he’s suddenly an optimist.
I’ve not been able to stop grinning over the last week.
I’ll be doing something completely mundane, like brushing my teeth, drinking coffee, and I’ll start smiling like a clown.
I swear people can tell I’m in love, like there’s a vibe I’m giving off.
I was grocery shopping yesterday and everyone was smiling at me, and not because I was wearing something idiotic.
I’m putting bright happy feelings into the universe, and the universe is giving them back.
I feel a kick against my leg under the table, and I startle, looking up at Jules in question. She’s leaning back in her chair away from the range of the camera and mouthing at me to focus. We’re live streaming our current episode, something we’ve never done before.
Jules shifts in her chair and groans quietly. “You know you’re getting old when you’ve been sitting for too long, you move and your body creaks.”
“No.” I blink at her.
She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Everyone who isn’t an athlete understands me.”
“It’s not about being an athlete. Exercise is so important for your body and your mental health.” It’s an argument we’ve had before both on the podcast and off it. “I’m trying to make sure that in fifty years my best friend is still by my side.”
Jules leans towards her mic, a glint in her eyes. “Since you’ll be writing my eulogy, what will you say?”
“Probably something about you not wanting to exercise, followed closely by your love of books and your hatred for athletes.”
“I don’t hate all athletes,” Jules corrects. “I don’t hate women athletes. I only hate the male ones. Except when they’re cute, and then I like to admire them from afar.”
We laugh quietly as her phone dings. We usually keep our phone on do not disturb while we’re recording because we don’t want any outside noises. Jules must’ve forgotten to put hers on DND today.
Our feed is flooded with comments that I can’t read because they’re going by so fast. My eyes are scanning the computer screen, and I happen to catch glimpses of Josh and podcast as my phone starts to ring.
My phone is definitely on do not disturb, so when it starts ringing, it means I’m getting a call from one of my emergency bypasses. My heart drops to the pit of my stomach because the only thing I can imagine is something’s happened to Roman.
“And that’s a wrap for today,” I say in a rush. “Thank you so much for listening to Unscripted.”
I slammed the laptop screen down, not bothering to finish off like we usually do. I turn over my phone and see the call’s coming from Roman. I breathe a sigh of relief and answer.
“Hello?”
“Vin, oh my god,” Jules says, her voice panicked. She has her phone in her hand, and her thumb is swiping up, up, up as she reads whatever is on her screen with a look of absolute horror on her face.
“Baby, where are you?” Roman asks, his voice deceptively calm.
That relief I felt a moment ago pops like a balloon. “I’m at my apartment. Jules and I just finished recording.”
It feels odd to call this my apartment when I’ve spent most nights with Roman for the last month. His apartment feels more like mine than any place ever has.
“Okay, stay there. I’m coming to get you.” I hear rushing footsteps on his side.
“Wait, what’s going on?” I ask. I look back at Jules, and the blood’s drained from her face.
“Just don’t leave the apartment. I’m going to be there in twenty minutes. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I get out before he hangs up.
I look at Jules, who still looks like she saw a ghost. And then the panic goes haywire.
“Is it my parents? The grandmothers? Aunt Constance? Drew? Has something happened to my family?” I don’t know how I’ll be able to survive without them. I’m too sensitive to even think about it. It makes me cry even when I’m not panicking.
Finally, Jules looks at me. She’s not panicking anymore. The look of horror is gone and replaced with anger.
“Your family is fine. It’s Josh.”
“Okay, I don’t know why we’re panicking if something happened to Josh? Obviously, I don’t mean him any harm, but we don’t like him.”
Jules reaches across the table for my hands. She squeezes them tightly, her gaze never wavering from mine.
“Babe, Josh went on Dave Matthews podcast and talked shit about you,” she says. “And I don’t mean bullshit like she’s not a good partner. He went on the podcast and said that he left you at the altar because it was an abusive relationship, and he was the victim.”
I’m sitting on my parent’s couch with my head buried in my hands. Roman sits beside me, his arm wrapped around me. When he picked me up, I threw myself at him because I needed to feel safe. There are only two places I feel safe in this world, his arms and my parent’s house.
My parents, grandmothers, great aunt, Drew, Jules, and the guys are all here. It’s like a morbid listening party. Because we’re listening to the death of my reputation. Everything I’ve struggled so hard to build, Josh knocks down thoughtlessly with a few cruel words.
He’s going to ruin you . Josh said that the night the Titans lost to the Falcons.
The cruel irony is, Josh is the one who’s ruining me.
“You don’t realize when you’re in that situation,” Josh is saying.
“It’s like you’ve completely turned yourself off to anything that’s happening around you.
It wasn’t until the night before my wedding that I realized the kind of person I was marrying.
She looks so innocent, and she’s built this reputation of being the good girl, but there’s a cruelty behind her pretty face that no one sees. ”
“She’s now married to your old teammate. Don’t you find that odd?” Dave Matthews asks.
“I think she did it to keep a hold of me. So she can keep showing up to games and distracting me. I’m never going to have a moment’s peace with her around.
If anything, her being married to Roman Maddox proves my point.
What kind of self-proclaimed good girl marries a guy whose nickname is The Brutalizer? ”
Tears drip down my face, staining the white blanket over my lap. I was so stupid to think everything was going to be fine. It makes me laugh, thinking that I decided to stay married to Roman to protect my reputation and now it’s being shattered to smithereens anyway.
“Can we please turn this bullshit off?” My brother says, voice laced with anger. “Why the fuck do we have to listen to this guy talk shit?”
I know it’s bad when mom doesn’t even call him out for cussing in front of our grandmothers and great aunt. Josh is midway through talking about how I used to taunt him when no one was looking when someone pauses the podcast. In the absence of his voice, silence fills the room.
I turn, burying my face in Roman’s chest to hide my tears. These are my friends and family, I’m not afraid to let them see my tears. I don’t want to look up and see even a hint of doubt in their eyes.
“Baby, please, we’re going to fix this. Please don’t cry over this asshole,” Roman whispers, so I’m the only one who hears him.
“Now would be a good time to contact your witch,” Drew says.
“What a pathetic loser,” Aunt Constance says.
“I don’t understand why he did this,” I say, my voice choked with tears.
“He’s a narcissist,” Jules is the one who speaks up. “He only wanted you while he could control you. He always needs to have the upper hand, and he realized that you’re better off without him so he needs to diminish you and make you feel small.”
I’m so angry at myself for not seeing it earlier.
I was with this man for two years and he took advantage of my mental health, when I was at my lowest point.
I used to wonder why he never wanted to talk to me about hockey or about my career.
And now I realize it’s because he couldn’t stand to not be the center of attention.
He needed to have the upper hand even if he had to break me down.
“No one is going to believe this,” Kai says, his voice calm and steady.
“I love the optimism, but it’s already being reported by ESPN,” Ford says. “Lucky for you, if there’s one thing my family knows, it’s a PR crisis. Say the word and I’ll have the best crisis management firms on the line in a minute.”
As long as they believe me, I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I realize now reputation is such a fickle thing. Look at Roman, everyone believes he has a bad reputation, but he doesn’t care. And he’s all the better for it.
“You guys are doing it all wrong,” Reese says.
“What you need is a shovel, some nitric acid, and a pick-up truck. We’re not going to react right now.
We’re going to wait until the ice has thawed, until everyone has forgotten about this little incident.
Then as winter hits and the ponds are going to ice again that’s when you attack.
We grab Josh. We get rid of him. Throw his body into a pond, watch it ice over.
By the time they find him the following year, all the evidence is gone. ”
The silence is so loud you can hear a pin drop.
Slowly, I sit up and turn my head around to look at Reese.
I’m glad to know that I’m not the only one with the horrified look on my face.
Reese watches us back innocently, sitting there in a floral print shirt that wouldn’t look out of place on a sixty-year-old man’s closet living in Florida.
Holden claps a hand onto his back. “What? You all thought he’s innocent? This guy is a freak, man. He watches true crime documentaries for fun and listens to true crime murder podcasts to relax.”