Starting Fires (31 page)

I was walking across their yard, about halfway to my car, which thankfully wasn’t blocked in, when I heard him call me again. “Marlowe!” he said. “Marlowe, wait!”

I whirled around to face him. “What did you call me?”

He was able to catch up, and looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“
Marlowe?
” I cried. “I’m not Marlowe to you. I’m Marzy, or baby, or… or…” My words were drowned out by the tears now flowing freely.

“Okay. Okay,” he said. “I’m sorry, baby.” He was reaching out to touch me, and I jerked away from him.

“Forget it,” I said through my teeth, mad that I’d let him see how bad this was hurting me. Needing to get away, I started towards my car again.

“Marzy, wait!” he said, and I rolled my eyes. My keys were in my hand, ready to unlock my car when he ran ahead and stopped me at the door. “Stop!” he said. “Just listen to me.”

“You’re a liar!” I yelled. “I can’t believe I let myself do this. You were playing with me the whole time.”

“What?” He tried to touch me again, but I pulled away. “No, I wasn’t!”

“Why was she with you then? I was supposed to go with you, Lucas. Me! And when I couldn’t you call her. Is this some type of game? Are you trying to see how many women will fall for you before you destroy them?”

“No!” he said. “That wasn’t how it was. At all!”

“Then tell me. Candace is in your bed one night, then me the next. How many others are there? Gwen? Stephanie? Sandra? And those are only the ones I know of!”

His eyes went hard. “Oh yeah? Well, why were you with Fontenot last weekend?”

“WHAT?” I screeched. “
With Fontenot?
Are you crazy? I saw him at a bar. That. Was. It.”

“He said you two were hanging out. You weren’t with Wally. I asked him. So what am I supposed to believe?”

“Me!” I said. “You’re supposed to believe me!” Tears were streaming down my face. Why would Wally tell him that I wasn’t with him? I was embarrassed and hurt, aware that our discussion was drawing the attention of his family.

“Believe you?” he said, looking just as hurt as I felt—which was ridiculous. “You’ve been going out with Paul on the weekends.” He rose from the car and moved to stand in front of me, lowering his voice. “Candace shows me a picture of you with him at that Italian restaurant. Your arm is draped through his and you’re hugged up on him. You never mention going anywhere with him. When I ask you what you had for lunch, you say a club sandwich. What am I supposed to think?”

I blinked back my tears, trying to process what he’d just told me. Paul and I at an Italian restaurant. That was the day we saw his ex-girlfriend. Yes, I was hugging his arm, offering comfort, but yes, I also ate a sandwich at a completely different restaurant. How did Candace even get that picture? Was she stalking me? Fucking crazy ass bitch.

“First of all,” I said. “I went out with Paul like three times. AS FRIENDS. That day, I did eat a sandwich. We didn’t even stay at that restaurant. And I was holding his arm for a reason! If you had asked me outright, I would have told you. But instead, you play all these ridiculous mind games. Trying to catch me in a lie or some type of deceit. There wasn’t any! Ever. I never told you because it wasn’t a big deal.”

Realization was setting in. He understood how badly he’d read the situation. But it was too late. I’d never once wanted anyone else, but he’d already had Candace in his bed, less than twenty-fours before I was with him that night. Her mouth had been on his. Her hands had touched him. Was that the only time? Had there been other instances?

New tears swelled in my eyes. “Why did you have to do that?” I choked out. “I wanted you. And you let her touch you. And kiss you. And sleep in your bed. I thought it was just me!”

“It is just you!” he cried. “I fucked up. I didn’t know how to handle this and went about it in completely the wrong way. I want to make it right. I can make it right, baby. Just let me. Let me, please.”

I wanted to. I wanted to let him hold me, and wash away all my doubt with his kisses and sweet words. But he’d made his choice, hadn’t he? He’d decided to believe Candace over me. He’d decided to believe Fontenot over me. Was anything he’d told me in the last week true?

He took a step towards me, and I didn’t back away. Seizing the opportunity, he reached out and placed a hand on my waist. “
Please
, baby,” he said with sincerity. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I want to fix this. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

I looked at his lips, wanting him to kiss the pain away.

“Good lord,” I heard over my shoulder and turned to see Candace standing on the other side of my car. “Lucas, this is ridiculous,” she said. “She’s playing you and you’re letting her.”

All of a sudden, I wanted to race around my vehicle and punch her in the face. I hadn’t even realized that I was touching Lucas. My hand squeezed around his bicep as I eyed her.

“Go away, Candace!” Lucas said. “This has nothing to do with you!”

“It has everything to do with me. You’re throwing me away for this trash. By the way, Allie says that she sees her all the time with a different guy every week. Why would Allie lie to me about that?”

“WHO THE FUCK IS ALLIE?” I yelled, my voice booming across the yard. Several heads turned in our direction. Haley’s mother covered her daughter’s ears and ushered her away from us. Helen, William, and Mia were all standing on the porch watching the drama unfold. They’d known that Candace was there with them at the lake. They had to have known that she slept in his bed, but kept it from me. I felt like a fool. Humiliation set in as I saw that all eyes were now fixed on me. “There
is
something you can do, Lucas,” I said quietly.

“Anything,” he said.

I took the ring off my finger, and yanked his sparrow chain from my neck. “Stay away from me,” I said and shoved them into his chest. With his mouth open, he held them. I didn’t wait for any response. Instead, I maneuvered around him and got into my car.

As I pulled out of his parents’ driveway, the tears had stopped, and anger had taken its place. In my rearview mirror, I saw Lucas yelling at Candace and then he stormed off into the house. She didn’t follow him, but I didn’t care.

 

Chapter 27

B
y the time
I made it home, I was hysterical with anger, hurt, and sadness, unsure which emotion to grasp. I left my Jeep running in the driveway and stormed inside. I pulled a big suitcase out of my closet and grabbed anything I touched off the hangers, throwing them in. Full to bursting, I pulled it onto my bed and grabbed a smaller one for my bathroom supplies.

One look in the mirror told me that my face was red with unshed tears, but I was determined to hold them in. When I came back into my room Wally was standing in the doorway, eating a banana and watching me with interest. “Going somewhere?” he asked.

“What is wrong with you?” I yelled, making him flinch. “Why would you tell Lucas that I wasn’t with you the other night? I was!”

“I - I - …”

“Yeah, well thanks a lot! He thought I was out with Fontenot. And you know what he did?” It was obvious that he didn’t. I grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it in his direction. “He sucked face with Candace!”

“Shit,” he said, dodging my attack. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get his message until later. You
weren’t
with me when I responded to him. I’ll call him right now.”

“Forget it,” I said, suddenly breathless, sitting on my bed with a thump. “It’s too late. He already did it. And he can’t take it back.”

“So that’s it then? You two are done?”

“Yes,” I said, holding in a sob. As far as I knew it was only a kiss, but she’d also slept in his bed. I had no way of knowing what really happened. But even if it was just a kiss, that was enough to hurt me.

“Is it my fault?” he asked.

My eyes cut to him. “No, it’s not your fault,” I said. “It’s his.” The sound of my phone vibrating broke the silence in the room. “Lucas,” I told him. “He’s been calling me non-stop since I left his parents.”

“You should talk to him.”

No, I shouldn’t. I picked up my phone, hit ignore then immediately dialed Mr. Yudeski.

“Yes,” was his means of hello.

“I’m sorry to bother you, sir,” I said, suddenly unable to hold in the tears. “But something has come up and I need to go back home for a while.”

“Oh. Well. I’m sorry to…” It was obvious that he was uncomfortable with my crying. “Uh. Is it something with your family?”

“Yes,” I said, not wanting to tell him that it was my broken heart.

“Alright then. Take all the time you need. Call me tomorrow and let me know when you’ll be back.”

“Yes, sir,” I said and hung up.

I grabbed my big suitcase and made for the stairs. Wally stopped me and took it from my hands. “Let me get it,” he said. I grabbed the smaller one and followed him. “Just so you know,” he said as we were walking to my car. “I’m against this. I think you should stay and try to talk to him about it. Sounds to me like it’s a misunderstanding. A nasty one, but nothing that couldn’t be worked out.”

I ignored him and put my case in the backseat on top of the one he’d carried. “I’ll be back next week,” I told him.

“Alright,” he said and wrapped his arms around me. “I’m sorry about this.”

When I heard Lucas’ car approaching, I thought he might try to convince me stay and talk with him, but he let me go and stepped away. I managed a smile before getting in my car, but didn’t look across the street or in my mirror as I pulled away.

At the airport, I walked to the first airline counter and shoved my dad’s credit card across the counter. “One to New York, please.”

My father’s house was quiet when I arrived. Searching for him, I walked from room to room but found them empty. I called his phone, but it went straight to voicemail. Not wanting him to freak out if he came home and found me, I left him a message, hoping that he would buy the whole
surprise visit
thing.

Already I had three voicemails from Lucas and a few text messages. I deleted them all without finding out what they said. Since it was nearly time for bed, I went to my room on the second floor, carting my suitcases up. Coming here might not have been the best idea. With no one to talk to, the house felt dark and lonely, too big for just me.

My room looked the same as the last time I’d been here. Nothing was touched. But there was no character either. No matter how hard I’d tried, this house never became a home. It was filler—a place to fall asleep and wish that things could be different. Everything in my room was cream—not my choice, but my father’s decorators. The only thing of color was a bright, blood red, pillow in the middle of my bed that I had insisted on.

I took my smaller suitcase into the bathroom and unloaded all of my toiletries. When that was done, I walked to my massive, useless, closet and pulled out a robe. Of course, it was cream, too.

The only thing I loved about this house was my shower. It was big, with a rainfall waterspout that came down directly from the ceiling. There were six other heads lining the walls, so that no matter where you stood, water would encompass you. I turned the faucets to hot and stripped down.

I don’t know how long I stood under the water. Maybe ten minutes. Maybe an hour. It was hard to tell. While the water rained down my head and shot out on my stomach and sides, I shut off. Everything around me became a blur. I tried to feel nothing, because it wasn’t worth it. Life had brought me too much pain and it was better this way. I’d thought that I loved Lucas. And I’d thought that he might love me too. But you don’t do what he did to people you love.

We were doomed from the beginning, I decided. I was too guarded to ever open up to him, and he was too unsure to ask about his insecurities. What would have happened had I just said what I was feeling?

Maybe I should have told him about my lunch dates with Paul. Even so, he shouldn’t have done this.

Once I vacated the shower, I put on the robe and crawled into my bed. My phone had two new voicemails. Looking at my missed calls, I knew one or both had to be from Lucas, maybe one from my father. I put my phone on speaker to see. His voice filled the room. “Baby, please, I’m so-”

“Message erased.” Pause. “Next message.”

“Hey darling,” my father’s voice said. “Juanita and I are out of town for the week. Sorry we missed you. We’ll return Friday evening. Let me know if you need anything.”

I deleted it too and fell back. Great. Now, if I chose to stay, I’d be here alone for an entire week. On the soft bed, I curled up and pulled my red pillow under my head as I tried to understand what had happened. The night that we’d yelled at each other about Paul, my words had hurt him.
And you aren’t my boyfriend!
On some level, he must have felt as if he was. I remembered walking into his room after I’d said it and seeing him on his phone. If I had to bet, that was when he’d asked Candace to come to the lake. He was drunk and hurting, and maybe wanted to hurt me, too.

When he kissed her and let her sleep in his bed, it was the night he thought I was with Fontenot. So he was getting back at me then, too. And for nothing. Nothing had happened or would have happened. He was an idiot and I wanted to make him hurt as he’d hurt me.

But not right now. Now I would sleep.

Over the next few days, I tried to find ways to occupy my time. I informed Mr. Yudeski that I would be back to work the following Monday, lying to him about a family emergency. One day that little lie would come back to bite me in the ass. My days were filled with eating at restaurants by myself, going to movies by myself, and going shopping by myself. My nights were filled with bad television, going to bed early and then sleeping late.

Lucas continued to call and text, but by Wednesday night, they weren’t as frequent. Anything he said to me would only make me mad—either because he’d sound so sweet and sincere that I’d want to forgive him, or he’d say something stupid. I didn’t listen, read, or respond to anything. Nothing could make it right. Whatever his reasons, whatever misunderstanding he thought we had, I wasn’t hearing it.

Thursday evening I contemplated going back to Louisiana. It was incredibly boring in this house. The gardener was the only person I had contact with and it was only for about ten minutes. I wanted to leave. And I would have, had I not gotten a text message from a number I didn’t recognize.

It was a picture of Candace and Lucas at the lake. They were out on a boat. He was leaned against the side, and she stood next to him. Another person was also in it, but had been cropped out. His smile was real and genuine, as was hers.

Who is this?
I immediately sent.

Just wanted you to see how much fun we had at the lake
was the response.

Candace, then. What was her problem? She’d done it! She gotten him to kiss her and pushed us apart. He was hers again. Why did she feel the need to rub salt in the wound?
Candace
I said
Do not contact me again. I don’t care how much fun you had. As far as I’m concerned, Lucas and I are through. Whatever the two of you do from now and has nothing to do with me and I don’t want to hear, see, or know about it. It’s done. You won. Enjoy your spoils.

She didn’t respond, but now I was alight with fire. I went to my closet and put on the most revealing top I had. It happened to be black, with practically no back to speak of, and a low cut front. A quick look in the mirror confirmed that I was showing way too much skin. I nodded and put on some heels as I walked to my rental car.

About ten minutes later, I pulled up to a dark dance club. Thumping base reverberated through the walls as I made my way inside. With confidence, I went to the bar and ordered the strongest drink they had, downing it quickly. Immediately, I ordered another one.

My senses were blurry and distant as I danced. With closed eyes, I moved around, not knowing if I looked sexy or pathetic, but not caring either way. I don’t know how many drinks I’d had. At least three. But I was starting to feel numb—which was the point.

Loud techno blared from the speakers as I moved. Periodically, I would feel someone’s hands on me as they danced with me to the music. They weren’t grabby or inappropriate so I let them continue.

“You’re beautiful,” I heard someone say and opened my eyes. Blinking rapidly, I tried to focus my vision on the man in front of me. He had dark hair and eyes with full lips and high cheekbones. The similarities between him and Lucas were just enough to make my stomach tense.

“So are you,” I smiled and pulled him closer to me. Our mouths were a breath apart. We continued to move until suddenly my back was to a wall. Without an invitation, he brought his mouth to mine. Initially, I tensed. These weren’t the lips I wanted. His smell was all wrong. His hands felt too hard. His chin stubble was too rough. But I let him continue until I was able to push past it.

Before long, my hands were all over him and I was returning his kiss with all my pent up anger—using him to squash the hurt inside me. But even so, he didn’t know how I liked to be touched. Or when I wanted more mouth than tongue. He pulled back and smiled. “Let’s get out of here,” he said.

“Give me a second,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

Patiently, he waited by the wall as I walked to the bar and closed my tab. I made for the bathroom, but intentionally got lost in the crowd as I went for the exit instead. “Can you call me a cab?” I asked the bouncer.

Five minutes later, I was in a taxi and headed home.