Page 56 of Brandishing Betrayals

Maya

Hours later, I found myself back at Nico’s townhouse lying on the couch. Tucked into his side, with my head on his shoulder, I zoned out on the movie he had playing. The lights were dim, remnants of our takeout food were strewn about the coffee table, and I was tucked under his arm, squeezed between his body and the back of the couch.

It was bliss.

After the relaxing day I’d had, I was barely holding on and about to doze off any minute. A contentment I hadn’t felt in years settled over me. Nico’s hand absently slid through my hair and his other hand was laced with my fingers on his chest, his thumb stroking idlily.

It was almost the most perfect night; it was just missing a few more people.

Maya

I woke to darkness. No longer on the couch, I was wrapped up in Nico’s bed, his limbs entangled with mine. His soft breaths tickled the back of my neck. I blinked at the clock, noting it was four a.m. Feeling wide awake, anxiety gripped at me, I really didn’t want to lay there for hours waiting for an awkward good-bye come morning.

I dreaded having another conversation with questions I couldn’t answer, that would lead to yet another fight. Not after we had spent the most relaxing night together. It had been a soothing balm for my tired soul, and I didn’t want to ruin that. If anything, I wanted that calm connection between us to last, the reminder of how it used to be between us, before life went to hell.

The weight of my responsibility settled on me, trepidation pooling within. I needed to leave, now. But how? Nico had purposely picked me up Friday night, making me reliant on him for a ride—just as he planned. Rideshares were out of the question, ever since that night ten years ago, I hadn’t ever taken another ride share alone—not that I needed to, I rarely drank anymore. My punishment that night had made a lasting impression on me, leaving me with more baggage than I knew what to do with.

Just another reason I saw my therapist.

No, I would have to take his car. He could pick it up whenever he needed it, but for now, the sports car would be my getaway. I just had to sneak out of bed without waking him while he was wrapped around me like a damn octopus.

It took me close to twenty minutes to disengage, slowly sliding his leg and arm off me. Once I was out from under him, I headed downstairs, not bothering to look for the bag with my dress in it. I’d get it back whenever. I found the keys to his car in the kitchen on the counter, next to a notepad.

Before I could leave, my conscious got the better of me and I left him a quick note.

I grabbed my own keys and purse from the counter, then I was down the stairs and into the garage a moment later. I wasted little time opening the garage door and starting the very loud engine. As I backed down the driveway, I adjusted the driver’s seat forward with the electric button. My heart was racing, I was afraid that the noise from the engine would wake Nico and I really didn’t want to still be here when he walked outside.

The drive home from Nico’s only took ten minutes and I parked his car on the street in front of my parents’ house, as to not draw attention to it. It was going on five in the morning when I let myself quietly into the house. Thankfully the house seemed quiet, so I headed down the hall to my bedroom and closed the door.

I wouldn’t be able to get any more sleep, I knew, but at least I wouldn’t draw attention to the fact that I was sneaking backin the house after a weekend away. Not that it mattered, I had spoken to my mother on Saturday morning before the spa, making sure everything with my father was good and to see if my mother needed anything.

Elaine, as usual, was fine. A little short and brisk on the phone, but when wasn’t she? I still didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that I came home at five a.m. and not after breakfast time. It made it look suspicious and I really didn’t want to hear my mother’s opinion on the matter.

I was tired of everyone’s damn opinions.

It was my damn life, my fucking son’s life, I could and would decide what was best of the two of us.

Or so I told myself as I sat in bed and brooded over my current state of affairs.

Jason

Ilookedoveratasleeping Luke and smiled wide. The kid had fallen asleep at the dinner table, his head resting on the table with his fork halfway to his mouth. We had spent the day fishing for salmon on a rental boat out on Lake White Buffalo. The weather had been fantastic, Luke had listened to everything Marcos and I had taught him, and our guide had been right on the fish all day.

We each had caught several keepers and after wrestling with the massive fish we caught, the three of us were exhausted. Marcos hadn’t stopped smiling all day though. And every timeLuke laughed or yelled with excitement, I laughed and smiled. It made me wish that Nico had been with us.

I had almost missed Maya at one point, too. Almost.

It had felt almost wrong to be enjoying such a beautiful and memorable day without her there. Especially when Luke started asking Marcos to take pictures to send to his mom. Or how Luke mentioned how much Maya loved to eat Salmon, something I hadn’t known about her. It was a slap in the face of how much time had passed and how little I knew her anymore.

My heart hurt thinking about her and what could have been.

God, I hoped Nico was finding out the truth from her this weekend. We desperately needed answers, and I hoped Nico could get them through his own gentle ways versus anything Marcos or I would come up.

I could finally admit that there was something more to the story when it came to Maya. Things didn’t add up. The Maya we knew back then was very head over heels in love with us and I didn’t believe that night was the catalyst for her leaving. It may have played into her emotions, but there was some deeper reasoning behind her taking off the way she did.

If she wasn’t being threatened and she felt the scene had gone too far, she would have kicked our asses to high heaven in the days that followed. She wasn’t one to not speak her mind, despite having issues opening up. She would very much tell us off if she felt she was wronged.

It’s why none of it made any sense. For as much as she had problems opening up about things, she also didn’t have that problem with the three of us. She told us how she felt about anything and everything. They often spoke at length about scenes they were interested in, then planned them out, discussing at length—sometimes for hours—about safety or emotional issues that might arise.

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