Page 63 of I See Red

Dear Red,

Hello, my little firecracker. The things you do to me are those of a goddess. Fuck me, you make loving you so fucking hard and rewarding all in the same. You are strong and calculated, just like what I read about you,but our relationship is starting to crumble. The Gala changed a lot for me, for all of us. You made me fucking sick knowing what you had brought back into our lives that night. I knew when Ivy never made it home to me that something was wrong, and you were more than likely to blame. I am aware of why you are the way you are and your role in Ivy’s life, but that night, you not only shared yourself with him, you re-opened that door for her, sharing her with him, and for that, I have never wanted to bend you over so bad and spank your ass until it bleeds as you beg me to stop. On the other hand, I’m glad it happened. For the same reason I have yet to allow you both to know me emotionally. I am hoping that to be the exact downfall of you and Tayden. You crave to know me more. I am still the mouse to your burning desire to chase someone. Now that you’ve had him sexually after having him emotionally all these years, I would bet your excitement fades per the rules of your game, and I quote, “What if we finally do connect physically, and it’s nothing like it has been in my head all theseyears? Or the chase of accomplishing that with him is all the cravings have ever been, and after, he no longer feeds me? Or I him? I’d rather spend a lifetime imagining it than one without him as I see him now. That’s why I’ve never crossed that line.” Oh, little bird, here’s to hoping you haven’t changed. Ivy doesn’t realize how much she needs you. I do understand, though. I love you as I do her. You are safe with me; however, we will have to get you to get in line and soften your walls. For you. For her and us to truly be happy—mostly for her to be happy. Mom was right about you. You are a force to reckon with, but one day you will find out who I am, and I can’t wait to give you that fucking lesson as I have her. Fuck your cravings, fuck the cold. I can’t wait to see the look on your face when my secrets are exposed. Your reaction isn’t my concern; Ivy’s is because you are a fucking master of deception, and I know your crazy ass will devour it. You’ll be mad, but you will find the sexy in it all. Little devil bird you are.

—Liam

Running my hand across my mouth, staring at the pages I have written to her brings me comfort in this current situation but terrifies me all the same. The thought of losing her is one I can’t bear to imagine. It would kill me and everything I am. Without Ivy, there is no Liam, and I can’t help but let that slight possibility creep into my thoughts. Ivy thinks I saved her, but she saved me, and she saves me again and again every day that she wakes up and chooses to love me. I look over at the pen sticking out of the leather-bound notebook that I haven’t fully completed yet and take this moment to write to her once again like I have so many times before in this brown leather chair.

Ivy & Red,

I’m not sure who is in the room upstairs right now, nor am I clear on who will exit when you do decide to come down, if either. What I do know is I have fucking missed you these past three days. I miss your smile and laugh. The way you rage about unimportant yet correct historical facts that most humans don’t even care to know. If I could, I would take all the pain you are feeling right now away, and replace it with love. This war that rages inside of you is a war I cannot heal for you, little bird. If I could go back in time andkill every human thatever wronged you, I would slay them all in a night’s work for you, my love.

I’ve known about Tayden since I met you. Your story and this connection you three have always shared are real for you, and I understand that. Fuck, I wish you would have let it go the day you met me. It’s remarkable, really, the bond you formed with him at such a young age and carried with you for over twenty years. I get it. He is… well, was your sanity in an insane world. He was the only love given to you without requests or demands. He’s what kept you alive. My fear is that he now is what ties you to the place, the time you’ve been fighting so fucking hard to get out of. Maybe what saved you once is now the undercurrent pulling you back under to a place you can no longer visit? I am not angry with you for all that you have done, nor do I hold resentment towards you in any way. Truthfully, I knew it would happen; I saw it coming just as I see all of your moves every day. In a sense, I signed up for it, and I’d sign up for it every time again and again. I just wish every day I couldheal the pain inside of you that says you aren’t good enough or worthy because baby, you are everything this world needs and doesn’t deserve. If I could erase him from the face of the earth, I would, and trust me, I want to so fucking badly, and I would enjoy every minute of it. You and I both know I haven’t because I worry about what that would do to you and, in return, do to us. Patience is the most underrated human trait, and I have a lot, but I’m running out, little bird, and I am not sure how much longer I can maintain my calm while your world is falling apart, doing nothing, following your rules. I have faith that you will find your way out of this, that you and Red or whomever will figure this out and get past it. I just hope this time it is for good. You always spoke of wanting someone who understands you and accepts you. I’ve been here all along, princess. I know you in and out more than you know. Say the words, I’ll kill him, then I can be a killer like you, little bird. Fuck, I wish I could have been there to see it.

Ever & Ever Amen,

—Liam

Closing the books, I place them back in the bar, securing the wood plank that keeps them hidden from my little bird. I’m not sure if now is the time to demand her to open the door or not, but one thing I know for sure is I need to head back up and evaluate the situation before I make that decision because callus moves never end well, only calculated ones in our home.

Three little birds sat on my window, and they told me I don’t need to worry.I sing in my head, with each footfall on the stairs, heading back up to my chair, to my place of awaiting.

I See Red

“I never asked for any of this. I just wanted normalcy like everyone else; accepting I will never be normal is the only thing I think will save me because craving it is killing me.”

—Ivy

I’ve been up here for what feels like a lifetime. How my body is still capable of moving, running off champagne and the few nibbles of food I have taken from the plates Liam has left at the door is beyond me. I’m fucking torturing myself, and I know it. This is what I do: lock myself up, torturing myself in private instead of showing my emotions to anyone in the world. Partly saving them from my wrath, the other because it’s comfortable being locked up. As a child, it was terrifying for me; somewhere in my mind, though, I am aware that complete seclusion is where I can think clearly the most. It’s where I’m comfortable. I’m like the beast in Beauty and the Beast, locked away to soak in self-pity and doubt, afraid for the world to see me unless I am atmy best. The best parts of my life are those that come after a break. It’s how I rejuvenate myself, and that is exactly what this is. The break before the beauty, the preparation for my wings to soar.Fuck, maybe I am a little bird. Damn you, Liam. Tossing and turning on the day bed, I open one of the many books from my library in an attempt to read, hoping to clear my mind. Deflection at its finest, ladies and gentlemen, avoid the catastrophic story that is mine and dive into someone else’s. Nonetheless, my attempt has fallen flat, as all I can think about is him—the wedding. What the fuck was he thinking? Champagne, music, and staring at the ceiling crying have been all I have accomplished in my time here, oh, and beating the shit out of the pillows that surround me. Looking around, I catch a glimpse of my oasis, the paintbrushes lying next to the easel in front of the bay window that holds yet another unfinished art piece, the journals stacked on the table in front of me that I haven’t written in at all recently, unfinished and untouched, to the hundreds of books that line the walls and ceiling the shelves reaching all the way up in the rafters as far as I can see, holding onto the promise that I will one day swing across that ladder grasping their spine and actually turn their pages. I am surrounded by my failures, reminders of all my uncompleted tasks, thoughts, and feelings—story of my life,just as my relationship with Tayden—unfinished. There was a beginning and a thought, yet somehow, I managed to always prevent myself from closure in any shape or form, never letting go, always pushing off today for tomorrow. Jokes on me, tomorrow’s here, and he’s getting married. Sitting up, I look over to my desk holding yet another Ivy let down—my empire, my real estate firm, which, although I have designed to run without me there, I can’t help but feel guilty for completely avoiding it right now as the voicemail light illuminates as fast as my heartbeat, reminding me it’s full. There are stacks of paperworkI have yet to sift through and e-mails from my assistant unanswered as I am sure she is barely treading water trying to stay above this week.Do something, anything.That’s what you need, work, it makes everything better.When all else fails, money never lets you down. Fuck, it’s allowed me many things, but mostly its sole importance all these years has been to grant me the freedom to not be okay, to never need another human. The ability to be alone and sit in my shit, my bigsteamingpile of shit. Strolling over to my computer, I open it up, pouring yet another glass of champagne. Wiping my eyes, I sit there looking at the screen, skimming through the subject lines, desiring to open them, but I just can’t find it in me to clicka single one—endless hovering.

“He’s fucking getting married, how could he not tell me?” rolls off my tongue into oblivion. Rubbing my eyes, I lean back in my chair as I down the entire glass I just poured. Reaching over to grab the bottle, I realize it’s empty, and I need more.

Shouting down the hall, my request rings, “Liam, can you grab me another bottle, please.”

Sitting behind the door in my wait, yelling to Alexa, “Alexa, play Inside Her Head by Bryce Savage. Alexaaaaaaaaaaaa, volume ten,” the last thing I need is Liam hearing my tears when he arrives. His footfalls become lighter, telling me the area is safe to open the door. Lightly cracking it, I snag it like that rat in Ratatouille swiftly stealing food from the kitchen.

Uncorking the bottle, I pour another glass.When all else fails, get drunk. Bitch, you’re past drunk.Taking the plate of food Liam left at the door, I stack it on top of the others piling up. I can’t even think about eating right now; the smell alone makes my alcohol-filled stomach curdle. My demons are swarming all around me. This time feels different, the darkness becoming unhinged more than ever, the cracks busting at the seams. Losing my cool as the music plays, screams expel fromdeep within my chest. Suddenly, I’ve lost all physical control, destroying the one slice of heaven I created for myself. Books crashing to the floor by my own hands, and pages of my writings torn from their respective spines. Tossing them in the air, I watch as they drift, falling to the floor like I have wished my body to do many times, simply gliding to its death. Grabbing a pillow from the bed, I smash it into the easel before flipping every single piece of furniture in reach. My screams escalating to demonic tones I remember hearing in the psych wards, tears flood from my eyes, snot dripping from my nose as I ravage my serenity within minutes until there is nothing left to destroy. Pure exhaustion taking over, I crumble to the floor in the perfect vision of my truest self, a fucking mess, a trainwreck actually, nothing but destruction within me and all around. I am the center of it all. I am a fucking walking catastrophe, my own worst enemy. Throwing the glass against the wall, I watch as the liquid splashes across the window once covered by my art. Glass shatters, and the window cracks from impact. I can’t help but burst into hopeless laughter, the most hopeless and evil laugh spilling from my body. Looking around, I spin, finding humor in what I have caused yet again.Here we are again, baby. What else can we do but laugh? You have officially fucking lost it, Ivy. You are out of your goddamn mind, but you knew that already. If only those places could see you now, maybe then they’d of had a real reason to keep you. Say you want me back, just fucking say it. I don’t fucking want you back. I don’t need you. Yes, you do. You always have. Fuck you Red.

The acceptance of my mental state wraps me like a warm blanket. A sense of comfort conforms within me. Sitting up, I push the hair from my face that’s clung to me by my tears and sweat from my tantrum. Wiping my nose with my arm, my hands clear the worthless tears from my eyes. I look up tothe only thing untouched by the E-4 tornado that just whipped through this room—my computer.

All of this, I’m well aware, has been yet another mere attempt at avoidance. A diversion to keep myself from what I really want to do, search it, see it, accept it. But seeing is believing, and I want to believe so badly that this is all some evil joke Olive created to help force my hand to choose, but she wouldn’t. It’s not, and it’s high time I faced the fucking music.Rip the fucking band-aid off.

Walking over to my desk, I grab another wine glass from the drawer, pouring myself another drink. Rage and pride take over my emotions, transferring slowly from sad and distraught to angry and vengeful.Let’s see your move, T. Let’s fucking see it.Smearing the mouse across the desk, the screen comes to life as I toggle over Chrome, hovering over it mere seconds before I finally get the balls to click it. A devilish grin forms across my face as I begin to type.

‘Tayden Bergess engagement.’ My fingers aggressively hit the keys with each letter I stroke. Staring at the repulsive sentence I just wrote, I slam my finger harshly onto the enter button. Hell, it might not even work now. Sitting back, I take a massive swig of my drink, my eyes scanning all the options full of information.Fuck it, this one looks great.I click the link as the page loads.

Son of car mogul, Michael Bergess, proposes to now fiancé, longtime girlfriend, Anastasia Costilla.

Tayden, son of Liliana and Michael Bergess, theworld-renowned billionaire who built his fortune in cars before moving into tech and leaving his son Taydenthe original family business finally pops thequestion. Wedding bells are in Boston’s future.

Knowing this family, they will be big and loud.TBZM reports sources close to the family say awinter wedding will be happening this year. Those close to the families have beentight-lipped as to location or reason as to whya shotgun wedding, leaving speculation of a possible pregnancy. This has not been confirmed, a spokesperson for the family has requested for people to respect their privacy. This event will be filledwith the most elite guest list Boston has seen in a while.

Congratulations to the newly engaged couple.-TBZM

Ohhhh Anastasia. God, I always hated her fucking name;so prim and proper, like a Disney princess. Makes me want to gouge her perfectly almond-shaped fucking eyes out. My stomach churns as I read the words, fucking pregnancy, Jesus fucking Christ. Tilting my head back, I gargle the champagne savagely before swallowing it. Scrolling back up, I see the perfectly selected photo his mother indisputably chose. My stomach turns to knots, electric shock waves coursing through my blood, and I’m fucking mad, disappointed, and fucking rageful. Reaching over to my phone, I unlock it, scrolling to his name, pulling up our text thread as I begin to type.

Ivy:Marriage? Really? Thanks for the fucking consideration of this information before I find out from the world about the marriage of someone whom I have shared a fucking life with since we were kids. It’s not even the you marrying her part, Tayden; it’s the you not telling me beforehand. We haven’t spoken in months, and you decide a fucking marriage is best? Better yet, some short engagement shotgun wedding? No, no, wait. Next I’ll hear the pregnancy rumors are true, a fucking kid, well, another kid?We have always been friends before anything else, or maybe we weren’t…….. because a friend would have called at least after the fact, and a lover would have called before the fact. Apparently, we are neither. What the actual fuck?

Re-reading it, my hand hovers over the send button, contemplating whether to send it or not before backspacing every single letter as I begin typing again.

---