Page 57 of I See Red

“Ironic, how you think you think I needed your consent to place you in solitary. Fuck your whispers……Checkmate.”

—Ivy

Ican feel the irony pushing through my intellectual thoughts; the idea that one can sit and have breakfast with a man they just made love to but think about another is the core of my reality once again. Sitting here at the table, I stare out, watching the snowfall. I’d love more than anything to blame this on my past and all that wired my fucked-up brain from a young age, but the reality is I am an adult just like everyone else, and my excusesare running weak even for me. Internally, I am overwhelmed; outwardly, I’m like an FBI agent, cool, calm, and ready to stay the course, hoping I get to be good cop instead of a bad cop. Rightfully, I would play the ladder better, but for sanity, I’d like to stay the course. I have no room for error anymore.The intrusions penetrating my mind are like tidal waves crashing under the pier, and I’m just trying to stay afloat, but as soon as I clear one to try and catch my breath, there is another crashing into me. Today certainly feels like a day I’d prefer to just throw my hands up and let the waves take me under. It would certainly solve many of my problems, but I know it would only create intractable ones for those who love me. I’m so tired of staying here for others. I pray the time comes when I wake up just once for me. The image of little me sitting in front of my dad’s gun case, my tiny finger on the trigger, tears streaming down my face, completely blind to the entire world, creeps in. Feels as if for a lifetime that I’ve prolonged the inevitable, the epilogue to my story, my happily ever after, the only one I feel was ever intended for me when I was created, to suffer, then die. To love than loss, to crave me and only ever find them. Some would say I love the torture, but the truth is, waking up to just roll through the motions isn’t a choice. It’s all I fucking know. The first memories of mine have always been lying wherever my body was placed, staring at the ceiling until the sun became the moon and the moon the sun. Survival, self-doubt, degradation, and entrapment in my own head is all I felt day in and day out. I can’t get out of her little head. No matter how hard I try, I’m stuck in a perpetual loop. I wish it was different.God,I’ve worked so hard to find the pieces to my puzzle to put myself back together, but they never fit in the right place, and every time I try, there are many still missing, ones I can’t find, resolve, or get back if they ever even existed in the first place. Not through love or friendship. Fuck, Evalyn couldn’t even help me remake onesingle piece, only understand the ones I had. I’m pathetic, worthless, and fucking trapped; even worse, I’ve entrapped two people who don’t deserve it along with me. I love them wrong, butdamndo I love the wrong in every ounce of love they both give me.

How are we here again? How am I still where I was at five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve… broken and alone? Why is my version of love what transpired in that shower with Liam? What transpired in the car with Tayden. At the track with Tayden. Why is my version of making love fucking? Okay, Ivy, reel it in. Did the shower teach you nothing? You’re on thin ice. Okay, ice is not the right word. Fuck me, it all leads back to the cold; it always fucking does. I wish I didn’t need him; I wish I could leave him in my past. Selfishly, I’m not sure I ever can, even if having him in my life keeps all that is my past resurrected in my future. Maybe I should tell him all I didn’t, then he’d leave for certain. No, idiot. That is dumb as fuck. Who are you without him?

I feel the air slipping from me, my body temperature rising warmer and warmer by the second like a fire was lit inside of me in an instant, my mouth turning dry, my naturally flushed face turning into the color I hate most—Red. I reach my hand up to pull on my overly tightened robe, holding my neck hostage. My skin in a race from the threads that surround it, fighting to loosen it like it is the problem, and not everything that I am as a human could be causing this reaction. Shame, disgust, fraud, little me running through my head on repeat like a Rolodex that never ends. This morning things feel different since what Liam did to me in the shower; things feel heavier, and I can feel myself disassociating as I stare into nothing, yet I feel everything at the same time right there in the four pieces of wood that frame that window. I miss him. I wonder how his day was; what did he cook for Anastasia for dinner? Was it a homemade poke bowl, theperfectly seared filet mignon topped with garlic butter and toasted chives? How work has been? Are his monthly revenues where I know he likes them to be since he transitioned the company here? Does he miss me? It’s not always sex with us. We are so much more, but the world never sees that because those conversations are ours, and since the studio, we still have had none. I miss his laugh, his feel, his intoxicating scent of leather and vanilla. I miss my best friend. Without him, my phone has been useless other than work. Every day, I pray the ding is him, but it never is. Maybe I was right. I was just a fuck to conquer. Yeahright, you know better. He’s just someone who loves you and always respects your wishes, even when you hope he won’t. Of course, that’s it, and I knew that when I said what I said to him. I knew he’d walk away. He always does as I say; no isn’t an answer he’s mastered when it comes to me, nor I to him, which is why we are here yet again. It seems implausible for me to love two men when I am constantly fighting for my own, much less love anyone when I have never been loved in my life in an ordinary fashion. On the one hand, I have Liam, who I know everything about and nothing at all, but it is easy. Well, it was. Now, I have many questions. Then Tayden, for some eerie reason, I can see a few times in our lifetime and know him to his core, every decision he will make before he makes it, how he comes to his decisions, and who he is deep inside behind the flashy cars, the perfect family portrait and the calm and collected demeanor.The one who got away.

In our continued communications over the years, I’ve learned that, at times, I know him better than he knows himself.He knows it, too;Fuck,I miss him texting me that. I miss his threes and sixes.I love you—three. I love you, Ivy Sage Rutledge—six.Reaching across the table, my hand grasps the knife, dragging it through the most delicious homemade butter, not breaking eye contact, the snow remaining in my gaze. I do this a lot, second-hand motions that are pure muscle memory, while my brain stays circling like a water wheel, unable to break from it, the water falling and being pulled right back up, going round and round. I am here at the table, yet so far away at the same time. A place I was locked in one time had an answer for this, but fuck them. Evalyn had another answer. I trust her more. Fuck, the snow is falling so beautifully. I love you, T.

“Ivy.”

I know in my mind he is speaking, but the trance I am in forbids me from acknowledging him.I continue smearing the butter across my perfectly golden toast back and forth, back, and forth.

“Ivy,” he repeats.

I continue to just stare off into oblivion, thoughts being the only thing that register in this moment.

“Little bird,” he declares, his tone more agitated than before.

His frustration doesn’t catch my attention, more the words. Snapping my head over, I catch his gaze.The fuck does he keep calling me little bird for?

“You are doing it again, Ivy, staring off lifeless in my presence, but I am certain running a reel through your mind. Are you ok?” his face soft and concerned.I look at him with confusion on my face, squinting behind my glasses because I am staring at a man who, in the past twenty-four hours, has taken everything I didn’t know about him and multiplied it in a one-hour sex fest to a curiosity, no, to a treasure hunt I can’t help but want the map to. My knowledge of Liam went from Mercury to Pluto in one thousand four hundred and forty minutes, and although the snow has me wrapped in T, the other half of my brain is reeling in a lot of unknown questions, reminding me how little I know of myever and ever amen. How much I need to discover. I’ve spent my whole life hiding from people, blending in, and becoming a chameleon so questions aren’t asked. I guessmy comfort to never be found out and seen clouded the fact that I never dug into the man I lay in bed with every weekend, the man I’ve built a life with, the man that I could never let go of. The human who makes me question my love for Tayden.

“Yes, I am fine, you know me; sometimes I just wander off into daydream land, and the world my body exists in doesn’t register while I’m deep in thought. I apologize. It was no more than that.” I exhale, reaching over to grab his hand, paired with a love squeeze for reassurance. I find it endearing that the Liam who sits before me is the one I always knew to constantly need reassurance, while the one he shows me when he is engulfing my body needs none.Maybe it’s all an act. I mean, it would make sense if he has been merely feeding me what he thinks I need. I couldn’t blame him, I do the exact same to him. Am I dating myself?Ha, that would be the fucking day. You’re losing it, friend. He’s the normal; you are the abnormal. Stop trying to twist reality.

“What do you have going on today?”

“Well, I figured I’d head out and work on the barn for a while. As you know, I didn’t make it before winter, so I’m hoping to at least get it finished before our first Nor’easter. When that will be is stilla mystery to be seen.”

I chuckle as he joins in, but he isn’t lying. When the brunt of winter officially starts up here, is so different from year to year. I prefer to be surprised while Liam, on the other hand, has his own methods, or inside man, I should say.

“Have you checked in with the hillbilly weatherman?” I tease, knowing he loves that guy.

“Not recently, and no posts mean good news, so I should still have time. You? Any plans?” Wiping the gravy off his mouth, he throws his napkin on his empty plate, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded, his body relaxed.In fact, more relaxed than I have seen him, maybe ever. That’s a crack, that’s a tell,just to what, is the question. What are you telling me, Liam, without even knowing you are? I’m on to you, Mr. Maddox.

“Yeah, actually. I am meeting up with Olive for lunch at Lotus, and then we’re going to hit up some of the local stores. I plan on being back early ‘cause I have to get some work done in the study for that deal we are still fine-tuning.”

I can see the tension building in him, and I’m waiting for it. Here it comes.

“So, mimosas and drinking with a dash of shopping and non-frugal spending habits,” he interjects, visibly worried about my day. I know he’s not concerned about Olive and I hanging out; no, it is alcohol and not being with him when I have it. He’s worried about her—Red—and her love for him. Even though to him, she is me, and Red doesn’t exist in his world in the slightest. Alcohol has always made my desires for Tayden stronger. My ability to shadow them weakens and she always ends up reaching out to him.

“Come on, Liam, a few drinks in moderation didn’t kill the cat,” I joke.

Standing up from the table, returning his dish to the sink, I can hear him snarl. His thoughts locked-in, unwilling to share, but I imagine if he knew about her, it would sound something like, “It’s the few that lead to the many that lead to her, and you know I like her. Seriously,Ivy? That’s a stretch. Like her? Go off,but not when there is no you with her, and I know she has been gone, but everything you do can mess with the balance you have managed, and releasing the slightest control can cause our world to flip on its axle once again. I am by no means telling you what to do. I am, however, telling you the fire burns red, and after you extinguished her, I am fearful of what may happen if she ever returns abruptly. I worry you keeping her fully away is more harmful than good, like a ticking time bomb; just tread lightly and safely, is all I ask.”

And he would have a point. I have lessened my drinking since I eradicated Red from my mind; not that I have a problem with not drinking, but it does allow me outside of my shell. When I am drunk, she is drunk, and her drunk is like a meteorite orbiting in Earth’s atmosphere, never knowing when or what it may crash into nor what feelings will arise.To which I would respond to himwith intent to subside his concerns.

“It’s lunch with Olive, babe. It’s a drink and some fun, don’t worry about me. I mean, seriously, have you met me? And besides, I have work to do tonight, so I won’t be drinking much. And for the record, I’m not going to text or call him. That’s the real concern here, after all, isn’t it?” And he would love and release me from this conversation without a hitch. See, no harm, no fowl. But none of that is said, simply just a version of our simple, our boring fucking surface-level vanilla.

“You go ahead and head out, and I’ll clean this up before I get ready to meet up with Olive. Oh, and I moved your boots by the back door also.”

“It’s not the cat I’m worried about; it’s the mouse. I hope yous guys have a good time, princess. Oh, and tell Olive that Dax needs to text me back.”

“Sure will. Are you planning something with him?”

“No. Fantasy football stuff, nothing serious, just tell her to give him shit. I stole Gronk from him last night.”

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