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Garden of Goodbyes by Faith Andrews (22)

Past

MY FIRST TIME WITH LENNOX was dirty and raw and so fucked up I should have died from guilt. Luckily, I was too wasted to let that guilt seep in, because our first time certainly wasn’t our last. And this wasn’t just some random hook-up with some random dude. I was secretly in love with my sister’s boyfriend who was secretly addicted to drugs that I’d secretly secured for him. Secrets. I heard someone say once that you’re only as sick as your secrets. If that was the case, I was basically on my death bed.

Death bed or not, Lennox shared mine with me that night. That wild, reckless night of overindulgence. Sober now, I submerged myself in the memory of it all.

Lennox sucked my lips into his mouth, tasting the drug, tasting me. It wasn’t enough though, I could tell. Even through the haze, I knew he needed more of a reason to take this kind of risk. He needed more coke. More, more, more. We both needed more of everything.

I broke away from devouring him and lay against the couch cushions, propping my head on a pillow. Dangling the tiny, half-empty bottle before him, his eyes grew wider. His pupils were so dilated they blacked out the stunning emerald orbs completely. Fingering the hem of my shirt with the coke still in my hands, Lennox succumbed to the tease. The look of want on his face—the look I had craved for so long—urged me further. I ripped my shirt over my head, my chest bare, nipples perked at attention for him. He hovered, ready to pounce, but I wanted to add more to this dangerous game. More, more, more.

With Lennox’s warm breath tickling my exposed skin as his mouth watered, I sprinkled the magic dust across my tits, imagining I was some kinky Tinker Bell and Lennox was my Peter Pan. The lost boy. Mine for the taking.

“Taste me, Lennox,” I cooed, thrusting my breasts closer to his face.

It didn’t take much to implore him and within seconds his nose, his tongue, his hands were all over me. He inhaled what he could, licked what was left and then dove in for more. Needing to feel his skin on mine, I tugged at his shirt. He didn’t leave me waiting, but peeled it over his head, tossed it to the ground, and then did the same with his pants.

I didn’t even know how we wound up in my bed—how we ended up crossing the line from bad to worse—but we did. Sex with Lennox, although it felt as if I experienced it through a third person’s point of view because of the gluttonous indulgences that teetered us over the edge, was as mind-blowing as the drug itself. It brought me to unreachable heights, unexplainable rapture, and pleasure so soul deep it was no wonder lust was one of the deadly sins.

In those moments of passion, I was his and he was mine and Eden was in no way part of the equation. With each addicting thrust, I begged for more. I dug my nails into his back to pull him closer so I could feel my skin against his. My lips traced the muscles and silhouettes I’d coveted from a distance and longed to call mine. My tongue tasted every inch of him, memorizing his delectable flavor and savoring what I wished I could sample at some point in time. We fucked like animals fulfilling an innate desire that had been neglected for too long. I wanted everything I could get from him for fear I’d never have it again once he came to his senses.

And that was the thing. Logic and good judgment might as well have been on a different planet that night because we took and took until every ounce of strength was depleted from our bodies. We overdosed on each other in every way possible. Completely sated, utterly hazy, and deliciously numb to the difference between right and wrong, we fell asleep naked in each other’s arms, and woke just in time to witness the end of the world.

Past

I HAD TO TREAD LIGHTLY when I broke the news to Lennox and Violet that we had to leave the comfort and luxury of Rittenhouse Square and uproot—once again—to someplace new. It was a touchy time and everyone was vulnerable, but this was the next step. The right step. Besides, I shouldn’t have been dwelling on the cons when there were so many pros to be grateful for.

For one, I got the job! After the interview, they hired me on the spot, praising me for my impressive resume and assuring me I came highly recommended, based not only on my credentials but my references, as well. I was floored, expecting a second round of interviews and a lot more schmoozing, but so damn excited it was hard to contain.

Ever since Lennox’s accident, the state of our future loomed over me like a dark storm cloud ready to break open at any time. Even while his NFL career was flourishing, Lennox and I were in agreement about my career. I mean, sure, his profession paid a hell of lot more than mine ever could, but we spoke about it at length and came to the mutual understanding that I wanted to make something of myself outside of being Mrs. Lennox Dean.

As I sat in the back of the cab on the way home from the airport, I thought about how he would react when I told him. I hoped he would be happy for me, but he was all over the place lately; distant and depressed, then jumpy and anxious. The news about the job and the move to New York would either pull him under or put him over; I wanted the perfect in between. Unfortunately, nothing but this news was perfect right now. We’d work on that though. With a plan set in motion and my heart and mind in the right place, I was certain we’d get over this hurdle and be back on the right track in no time. I’d do anything to prove that. Hell, as a testimony to our love, I even tattooed the guy’s name on my body while touring the city. A permanent, forever tribute to the man who would own my heart for all of eternity.

I held a hand to my ribs, at the tender spot just below my heart. This was the place where Lennox’s name was scrawled alongside a blooming purple rose. I cherished its symbolism, and felt a little badass, too. I’d never done something so bold and spontaneous without asking Lennox’s opinion, but this would be a nice surprise. I also knew he wasn’t opposed to me getting one; he had a few of his own, all with varying degrees of meaning and importance. And the biggest reason I couldn’t wait to show him—this would surely demonstrate that even though we’d been through hell during the last few months, I would stick by him. No matter what life threw at us.

“Can you kind of step on it?” I leaned forward and urged the driver to get me home quicker. I missed Lennox. I’d even missed having Violet at my side this week, and I was eager to share the news with the two most important people in my life. The only two who meant anything to me.

THERE SHOULD HAVE BEEN SOME kind of warning or foreboding caution as I stepped through the front door to our home. But that’s the funny thing about life, I guess. So many unexpected surprises waiting to change it forever with a mere tick-tock of time.

The house was very quiet for early afternoon, but that wasn’t out of the norm. Neither Lennox nor Violet were anywhere to be seen on the first floor. All that remained of the evidence that they lived here were empty glasses and a few pillows strewn across the floor. For all I knew, Lennox was still asleep and Violet was working. I’d managed to snag a seat on an earlier flight and didn’t want to bother either of them to pick me up at the airport. A surprise. Most people liked surprises. The good ones, at least.

Straightening up as I kicked off my shoes, I rolled my luggage into the hallway and tucked it neatly out of the way. I was the type who separated clean clothes from dirty while I traveled, and while there was definitely time to throw a quick load of laundry in just to get it out of the way, I had more pressing things to attend to. I was excited to see Lennox and tell him about the job. Laundry and my slight case of OCD could wait till later.

“Babe?” I called as I walked upstairs.

Nothing. He had to be sleeping. I hoped this didn’t mean he was in one of his despondent states. If he was, maybe I could coax it out of him.

“Lennox?” I whispered again, this time slowly creeping our bedroom door open. When I realized the room was vacant, I entered to look around. Our bed was unmade—not a surprise—but the sheets were cold to the touch. My eyes scanned the room curiously, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary or out of place, except for Lennox of course.

“Hmm,” I hummed to myself. “Where could he be?” He wasn’t much of an extrovert these days, so the possibility of him being out with friends was rather slim. Maybe he went to the store for groceries. It had been a while since he took charge of something even as simple as that, but maybe things were changing, starting to look up. Could it be I came home to a brand-new Lennox? Or even better—the old Lennox whom I missed terribly?

Assuming I was alone, and bummed that there was no one to greet me with a warm welcome home, I tidied our bedroom, stripping the sheets off the bed, and putting everything back in place. When I walked past the vintage floor mirror in the corner, I stopped to take a look at myself. Lifting the hem of my old Florida Gator sweatshirt, I raised my shirt enough to expose my new artwork. I loved it. A deep Byzantium purple rose—that’s what the tattoo artist called it—popped to life with shading so detailed it added the craziest realistic dimensions. Lennox’s name in the freehanded black cursive font was elegant and beautiful, even next to something as stunning as the rose. I could stare at it forever and never tire of it, yet what I loved most was that it was hidden close to my heart, belonging only to me and Lennox. The world didn’t need to see it for it to be real and meaningful. It existed as my private demonstration of love. Besides, inking myself up wasn’t exactly the best idea now that I’d been hired by one of the most reputable PR firms in New York City.

My heart pounded in delight at the idea of showing Lennox what I did. I was momentarily wistful, wishing he were here and not wherever he actually was. Holding on to this secret for two days had been torture. Another second might actually kill me.

Shaking off my anxiety, I decided to check the rest of the house to see if there was more cleaning up to tend to. First stop would be Violet’s room. She was an adult who could take care of herself—most days—but I still found myself looking after her the way a mother might. Unfortunately, that meant lots of the household duties fell on me. Things could be worse, though. Right?

I walked to the other end of the hallway and noticed that her door was cracked open. Through the small gap, I could see someone was in her bed. Wait, make that two someones. Two very naked someones. I laughed to myself—same old Violet. And this explained why Lennox wasn’t home. Guess he wanted to give the lovers some privacy.

I backed away with my hand on the knob, the vision of Violet sleeping on her back with a man’s arm draped lazily over her bare chest forcing my eyes closed. I was about to turn around and pretend I hadn’t just caught my sister and her latest fuck buddy in nothing but their birthday suits, but something familiar on the arm of the man with a handful of Violet’s breasts caught my eye.

A tattoo. Of a gator. A Florida Gator.

No. It couldn’t be. I had to be seeing things.

I quietly pushed the door open to get a better look and then slapped my hand over my mouth to contain my gasp of horror.

“No! No!” My body froze, my heart ceasing to beat. My brain fogged over and time stood still. What I thought was a silent cry was obviously audible because both Violet and Lennox jumped at the sound of my shriek.

And there it was—betrayal. Crystal clear, directly in front of my teary eyes, and slapping me plumb in the face with a force so palpable I almost fell to the ground. My sister and my boyfriend stared back at me with terror in their eyes, speechless, naked, guilty.

A thousand and one emotions churned inside me like a monsoon of devastation. I refused to believe it. I wanted to run away and get a do over of this moment. I wanted to come back into this room and find it empty, my dreams still intact, my life still whole. But that wasn’t an option.

“This isn’t happening. This isn’t fucking happening.” I threw my hands over my disbelieving eyes, chanting the phrase over and over.

“Eden! Oh, my God, Eden,” Lennox spoke first, jumping off the bed and stumbling when his feet hit the ground. He righted himself and scurried for something to cover his naked body. Within seconds, a disheveled, hung over and desperate man was at my side.

His hand brushed my shoulder and the slightest touch of his fingers on my body sent me over the top. “Don’t touch me! Don’t you dare touch me!” I screamed.

“Edie. Please. Let me explain!” His voice cracked and unremitting tears spilled from his eyes, but it was too late for explanations. The picture was painted pretty vividly. I knew exactly what I walked in on. No explanation necessary.

“How could you do this to me? How could you—” My question broke off, the unspoken words melting into sobs. My legs gave out from under me and I dropped to my knees. As I bent forward, physical and emotion pain wreaked havoc on me, mind, body, and soul. I felt sick to my core. I even tugged at my churning stomach to scare the pain away. When that did nothing, I clenched my chest in hope of containing the splintered pieces of my broken heart.

As I sat there in a puddled mess on the floor, it struck me that Lennox wasn’t the only one guilty of ruining my life. He had an accomplice. One with many priors. Priors so devious and malicious it was a wonder I thought it safe to leave the two of them alone together in the first place. I should’ve known better. Was I really this naïve?

Unexpected strength rose from within and I surged to my feet. “You!” I charged, pointing a trembling forefinger at Violet who was still motionless on her bed. “You.” I hissed this time, my emotions getting the best of me, my tongue becoming useless.

She blinked back at me with an ashen hue to her skin and an indescribable emptiness to her eyes. Nothing. She had nothing to give me, nothing to say.

“You’re my sister,” I cried, remembering a time when I had false suspicions and begged her to stay away. I might’ve been wrong then, but I guess those suspicions weren’t so false after all. It only took years of wasted trust and faith for them to come to fruition. “You’re. My. Sister!” I wailed. My body collapsed onto the mattress with a dense bounce. I buried my face into the soft sheets; the same sheets that held the evidence of their betrayal. Of my ruin.

The room remained silent except for the drumming of footsteps as Violet and Lennox moved about getting dressed. I cried into those guilt-stained sheets for so long I imagined the world would disappear around me by the time I was ready to face it. Most likely, only mere minutes had passed when I lifted my head and looked around.

As if my sister and my boyfriend spending the night together and fucking me over wasn’t the worst thing to come home to, I noticed something else on Violet’s nightstand that dug the knife even deeper into my already punctured heart.

An empty cocaine vial.

Two rolled up dollar bills.

Seeing only one might have given me a little hope, but viewing both crushed it to smithereens.

“What did you do?” I could barely utter my question.

Realization settled over Violet’s tired features first. Then Lennox caught my line of vision and awareness trampled him, too. He ran over to the nightstand and quickly scooped up the vial and the money as if making it disappear would erase what I already saw. “This isn’t what it looks like, Eden! I’m sorry. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I love you. I’m sorry. It was a mistake. I’ve been so fucked up since the accident, so lost. I didn’t . . . It’s not . . . We . . . I’m so fucking sorry, Eden.”

He was sorry, all right. Sorry and pathetic. Lies upon lies erupted from his mouth as he tried to cover up his mistakes. After a while they all blurred into one long string of incoherent garbage.

Violet stood in the background, silent and still. I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to make her feel one eighth of what I was feeling right now. I also wanted to vanish into a secret corner of the universe and never see either of them again.

Pain in every form imaginable wracked my being molecule by molecule. And I knew in that moment, no matter how hard it was, no matter how he tried to get me to forgive him, no matter what we’d been through or what I’d promised in the past—this was goodbye.