“Are you ready?” Arrick, wearing jeans and a hoody, under a denim jacket strolls across the guest room I have been using for the past few weeks in Amber’s apartment, effortlessly casual and utterly bored while waiting for me.
I fling the last of my clothes haphazardly into my case and try to zip it shut unsuccessfully, bulging crazily, and I have no hope of closing it. Arrick frowns, moves me over and pulls some of the rolled-up dresses out with a less than impressed brow dip at my packing skills. He folds them flat and places them in so he can at least close the case without much effort. He slides it down beside the other bags on the floor and watches me move to wander around aimlessly while checking for everything that is mine. I don’t want to have to come back here for anything I may have left behind once I am out that door.
After he’s out I lock it behind us and post the spare key in the box. Amber isn’t home and knows I’m leaving. I texted her some short and rapid thanks this morning and was met with indifference. Amber has never really spent much time with me, and rarely uses her own apartment herself, so it’s not like it’s a great loss of a friendship. Leaving this city is sadly not a loss in any way, in terms of friends, happy memories or any real life.“Sometimes you’re bossier than Jake.” I smile at the mention of one of my favorite Carreros; although to be fair, there isn’t a single Carrero that I do not adore, as they are all pretty epic. Being back in The Hamptons means I get to see Emma and Jake again, and little Mia and Lucah, Arrick’s parents too. Might even be around to see Emma give birth to that growing bump she was developing before I le
“I’ll keep doing this until you can list at least ten things. Ten things that you love more about me than my brother! Come on then … Number one, Sophs?” He chuckles as I struggle wildly, pinned down in an embrace I have no chance of escaping, by muscles that are clearly more than a match for me. I squeal more as he roughly messes my hair again, to remind me that he will, because he’s evil and has no scruples.“Okaayy … Okaayy!” I wail, knowing this is futile. Arrick has many forms of torture when he is being playful, and he isn’t against pinning me on the floor with my arms under his legs, to tickle me to squealing hysteria again.“Number one?” Arrick repeats loudly. I have nothing else to do but answer him when he’s like this, knowing he will just keep tormenting me
I skirt his car and move to get in quickly, inhaling heavily to calm my rattled nerves, I slide in and put on my belt while he stows my bags in the rear then comes to join me inside. He looks me over for a second, a hint of sheer bewilderment, before starting the car. The frown and the sudden silence I know only too well. He is mulling it over and I can’t tell what conclusion he has come to. I also know him that if he doesn’t like a subject, he drops it fast and moves on quickly. I already know that’s what he is about to do.“To the Hamptons,” he finally states as he maneuvers us back into traffic, not really looking at me. He shifts in his seat to get comfy, adjusts his mirror and fiddles with a couple of dials on the stereo without looking my way. Fidgeting is something he does rarely. Okay, never, and it only super sensitizes my already frayed nerves. That bite of anxiety and I take a long, slow, deep inhale to calm myself. I hate that these l
Cynthia, my mom, hugs me like we have been parted for years, squeezing the absolute life out of me as tears wash down her pretty face. I hug her back awkwardly, a little stiff in her hold, but deep down somewhere inside of me is, a tug of genuine joy. We’re in the immaculate, beautiful hall of our home in The Hamptons, a place that used to be seem a fairytale castle to me so long ago. The home and family of my dreams and it had taken an age to accept it as real.All my bags are sat by the stair as Arrick lingers behind, giving us the space to reacquaint now he has delivered my little homecoming speech on my behalf to tearful parents. He’s been my mature and loyal protector once more, doing the hard things, so I don’t have to.A
“Shut up and listen to me.” He pulls me the last stretch of stair and into the familiar room I spent the past few years growing up in. All pink, white, soft, and frilly. Everything still as it was, as though I never left. My room looks like my parents have preserved it as such from the day I walked out. My taste in décor has never grown from childish and cute; stuffed animals litter my bed, and shelves are filled with teen romance books and trinkets. Arrick has seen this room a million times and pulls me to my silver-gray chaise longue in front of the huge window, evicting fluffy pillows and blankets as he plonks me down harshly.“I didn’t get you home so you could up and run again. Stop being selfish, Sophs. For on
“Neither of them was raped and beaten by their father for fourteen years while their mother turned a blind eye.” The harsh biting tone that evicts the words from my mouth lands heavily between us. Lashing out viciously because of how raw the pain is making me, how his admission he’s leaving me has hit my heart like a blunt dagger. He stiffens at my words but catches himself and sighs.Arrick smooths a finger down my cheek as a stray tear manages to escape without permission, ignoring my outburst as something I do when I’m in pain, because he’s seen it all before. I bite down on my bottom lip, trying hard to curb the urge to push him away. I don’t want his hands on me if all he is going to do is let me down again.“Don’t let that bastard take your life
“You up and left me for some big city life and a girlfriend who doesn’t want me hanging out with you. You left me! So I found my own way, and now because you don’t like it you think I should stop.” I smart, biting hard, sounding every bit the catty bitch I have become over the past months. “See, the funny thing is, you want me to go back to being your little sidekick, but you’re not even going to stick around more than forty-eight hours to even see that I make it. Doesn’t sound like you really have any intention of seeing me through anything.” I throw my shoes off into the open walk-in closet, rifle through the display of shoes distractedly, and pull out some high black stilettos, studded with mini spikes from two seasons ago that will work with this top. Trying to keep my cool so very painfully, I slide them on my feet then haul out a matching belt and sling it around my low-rise jeans. Glam rock, to suit my ‘piss off, I fucking
I’ve mulled around my room for the last few hours, sitting on my bed and sewing embellishments to a pair of jeans I’ve revamped into a new short denim skirt, trying hard not to get frustrated with the feelings inside. Partly to amuse myself and partly to piss Arrick off after leaving my other one in Amber’s apartment. That childish part always has to win in some way. Too defiant for my own good.I used to do this sort of stuff when I was bored; customize my clothes and jazz up anything I felt needed it. It has a way of focusing my mind as I watch the small stitches neatly form wherever I work my needle. I forgot how much I missed this.My sewing box is laid on the bed beside me, my box of assorted trim scattered in front of me and the mess of cut denim and scraps trailing off to one side as the housekeeper finishes unpacking what’s left of my luggage and removes herself with items for the laundry. She smiles my way with a warm affectionate look,
I deserve it, I know I do, probably worse, it’s not even that painful but as I stare at her again, I can’t hide how much it actually wounded my heart. Sophie has lashed out at me before, sure, in crazy ways, frenzy fueled attacks when lost in her pain or triggered with her PTSD, but she’s never slapped me in the face for anything. This was a direct ‘how fucking dare you’ kind of assault that speaks volumes to the depths of the carnage I’ve caused on her soul.“You lost me. You don’t get to do that anymore.” She wails at me, pulling my hands and arms from her body and shoves me back with as much force as she can muster. Prickly, seething, hating me with utter crushing heartbreak. She’s breathing as heavily as I am although her pain and hysteria seem to be calming mine and I know I need to stay patient and cool if I’m going to bring her down from fierce.I know how to deal with her at her worst, I can hand
Arrick’s POV~ Leila’s party ~Leila’s party is losing its sparkle for me. Too drunk, too miserable at having to see Sophs swanning around with golden boy Christian all night and I am done with being here. I’ve said my goodbyes to my brother and I’m leaving before I do something stupid I’m going to totally regret concerning ‘boyfriend’ and drag Sophs into a dark corner to kiss the shit out of her if I stay here. Seeing her looking this beautiful, this happy with someone else is killing me.I spy Sophs, Leila, and Daniel huddled together at the front door as I head that way, a little too late due to not watching where I was going and swerve at the last second before she spots me. My heart lurching at running into her again when I’m already a complete emotional wreck. Hating that even still, my initial reaction to seeing her is a swift kick in the gut. Almost keeling sideways because I am way too
Arrick’s POV~ Seeing Sophie again. (Restaurant) ~I push the money in the driver’s hand as I follow Charlie and Tom out of the cab onto the sidewalk. I’m still tired from my three hours in the training ring and starving, it’s my turn to pay for lunch and I got to pick the venue. This place is new and no chance of Natasha hitting it with her colleagues on her lunch break either. I’ve been trying to put distance between us since the breakup, trying to stay out of her way and I hate that she has a knack for showing up wherever I am. It feels like she just won’t let go, and although I understand her pain at our breakup, it’s also stifling, and I just want her to move on. She won’t do that if she keeps trying to cling to me.“Hurry up, man.” Tom, my sparring partner today is impatient as hell and throwing me a look that is supposed to hurry me up. I straighten on the street and glare him down.
It kills me that I can love her this much and was stupid enough to give that up, to give her up. It’s so black and white in the clear light of my brain defogging and how fucking dumb I am. It was never about what my heart wanted; it was always about what was best for everyone else’s.I don’t want Natasha; I don’t think I ever really did. I want Sophie. If I’m being honest then I’ve always wanted her, needed her. It’s why I could never ignore the two a.m. cries for help. It’s part of my soul to be there for her to fall on, to depend on, to call, and lean on. I grew up for her and became her rock, gave her that safe space to grow and heal and kept the world at bay so it didn’t touch her. I created our bubble together so Sophie could thrive and feel secure, enjoy life without fear and I always told myself it was because I never had a kid sister and she just screamed out for protection. So precious, so angelic and I wanted to
Arrick’s POV~ Breaking up with Natasha ~Sitting on my couch, leaning forward with elbows propped on my knees, I stare at my cell for the millionth time and scroll to Sophie’s name on the list. Last call was twenty-eight days ago... twenty-eight long days of hell, silence, loneliness, and lack of Sophie. Twenty-eight days; the last time I felt anything but the constant absence of her and heavy pit in my stomach, from her disappearing in every single way, and leaving a gaping silent sunless space in my life.I’m missing her like crazy, keeping her last texts messages because it’s all I have left of her to hold on to. I scroll to the very last one, again. It’s a nothing text; I don’t even remember what it was in response too, as it’s not connected to the conversation before it. Just one single text, one that sums her up in so very few words and I stare at it as my chest heaves with that same ingrained weight
Natasha’sPOV~ Life after Sophie ~I watch Arrick push his food around his plate distractedly, eyes on what he’s doing, yet he seems completely detached from the here and now. We’re in a busy restaurant, the food is good, the company not so much; he has barely said two words the whole time we have been here, and he has had about four beers with dinner so far.Arrick never drinks excessively, normally, but I guess this sums up our life of the past three weeks. I’m irritated, upset but I am trying to keep the pleasantries going. I am trying so hard to not let it get to me, to keep a smile on my face, a positive outlook that we can get through this bump in the road of our relationship, but he makes it so hard.I try not to watch him too much as I eat my own food and give up on small talk. His nods and ‘hmm’ responses make me want to throw my wine glass at him, and I am trying to avoid all forms of naggi
Arrick’s POV~ Letting Sophie go ~I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling of my room. I haven’t moved from this spot all night, still fully dressed and unable to even get up and function. The weight in my chest is almost holding me in place, crushing me with the pain, and I can’t stop running last night through my mind endlessly. I’m restless, torn, scrunching my fingers in my hair like I can rip this out of my head. The worst sort of agony that surpasses all.I want to go to her room and see her, but I can’t. I can’t get her out of my head, even though she is only feet away and it’s torturing me.I kissed Sophie... I did more than kiss her, and it felt good, it felt right. It made me feel a thousand things about her that I can’t even begin to analyze, comprehend how to, and all it did was make everything fall apart even more than it was, especially when Natasha showed up and slapped me back to
Arrick’s POV~ After the nightclub ~I sink back on the couch and stare into the semi darkness, cradling my second coffee since we got back here, and try like hell to sober myself up. Head swimming and sinking slowly into the softness of my couch, while trying to get a grip on reality. All I have done since we got home is sit here and try to pull all the shit in my head back together. Try to make sense of the entire night that pretty much went to crap from the moment I downed the first vodka.Drink and I are not friends right now, and if I have any chance of salvaging anything, then I need to sober up fast. Sophie is in the shower, she headed there as soon as we got back, and I sat here waiting for her. I need to talk to her, to figure some of this out and I have no clue what to do. Tonight, taught me a couple of things.One. That drunk, I feel about Sophie the way she feels about me and I want her in every way; physically, menta
Sophie grabs my wrist and tries to yank me to the side, but I cannot tear my eyes from her. I want to tell her I made a mistake, that she is who I want, that she is all I can even think about. I want to wipe away the memory of that asshole on her body, and replace it with memories of kissing her softly, cherishing her always. No one should ever touch her, except me.“Natasha.” She snaps at me and slaps my hands down from her face harshly, bringing my focus back to reality again. I tear my eyes from her and glance up as I see Tasha heading our way, looking completely non-plussed and again the accompanying guilt is like a constant shadow with her, and wracks me to the bone and almost smashes me in the skull. Nothing hits home and drills to my shame brain, like Natasha’s appearance.It makes me feel shit for even thinking what I just did. That same doubt and uncertainty hitting me with equal force, and I sigh hard. So much for fucking choosing.&l