I hadn’t seen Julia for three days, which means I hadn’t seen Christian either. I texted with no responses, I tried calling with it going straight to voicemail, I even went to her parents’ but nobody answered the door.

I was getting ready to call the police and hospitals when I heard the sound of the garage. I wanted to run to her, I wanted to tell her how sorry I was, I wanted to make it better, I didn’t know how I felt. I was so terribly confused.

She opened the door alone. We stared at each other and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days, her skin was pale and she looked like she hadn’t been eating; what alarmed me the most was her eyes, which once held so much love for me, were now lifeless.

She averted her gaze and walked past me.

I held my arm out, stopping her. "Babygirl," I quietly spoke, not knowing what I was going to say, I expected her to slap me, punch me; I expected her to scream at me. She leaned into my chest and cried, no, she heaved a world of tears. I held her as tight as I could, letting her express everything she could not say with words.

She realized what she was doing, and slightly pushed off of me, moving to sit as far away from me as possible.

“Where’s Christian?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“Oh, now you’re worried about Christian? Were you thinking about Christian when you were with her?” she asked, barely containing her rage. I sighed not having the strength to look at her.

“Are you fucking kidding? Just this once, Sebastian, have the balls and fucking decency to tell me the truth.”

I didn’t know what to say, I wanted to say so much, I couldn’t get my Goddamn mouth to move.

“Okay…Sebastian. I’ll talk. Do you think that she’s replacing her…replacing Olivia?” she asked with trepidation in her voice. “Is that what you see when you look at her? Because, that’s what I see when I do.”

Neither of us said a word for several minutes and it felt like a lifetime.

“What did they call us growing up, Sebastian?” she said, looking back at me.

“The Three Musketeers,” I whispered.

“That’s right…The Three Musketeers,” she said before having to look away from me.

“I remember growing up and always being in love with you…there was never a time where I wasn’t. My very first memories were the feelings I had for you,” she said, laughing at that statement.

“Fuck…you’re everything to me, you always have been. I mean, our parents were best friends; it was only natural that we would end up together…right? I mean, from birth, we played together. One of the first words I ever said was Sebby,” she whimpered, shedding a tear and wiping it away.

I didn’t think it was possible for my heart to break any more, I tried to take a step to come near her.

“Don’t,” she whispered. I stayed where I was.

“My parent’s had tried for years to have another baby. It never happened for them, I wanted a sister so bad.” She looked up in front of her; as if she was visualizing everything in her mind.

“They always told me that it was because I was one in a million, I was their special baby girl,” she said, wiping away more of her tears.

“They talked to me for months on end about how they were going to bring home a baby. That there was this special place that angels made babies for people like them who couldn’t have any more miracles like me,” she looked like she was lost in thought.

“They asked me over and over again what I wanted…of course, I wanted a sister. Somebody I could dress up…somebody to share my secrets with… somebody who I could talk to boys about…just somebody that I would love unconditionally.” She put her hands in her hair almost as if she was surrendering.

I had broken my wife.

“Mom and Dad said that it was going to be more difficult for them to bring home a baby, and that was okay, because I didn’t want a baby. I wanted someone that was like me, another spunky ten year old. What was I going to do with a baby, I told them,” she laughed again at that thought.

“Do you remember how I excited I was, Sebastian? How many times did I talk about my new sister that my parents were going to bring home for me?” she asked.

“Yes, I remember, Babygirl,” I replied.

“The day that they brought her home was one of happiest days of my life. She was so skittish and shy at first.” She looked at me, “Do you remember, Sebastian? She moved right to you when she came in, I should have known it then,” she said.

The memory of that day plays in my mind as I hear Julia talk. I remember the look of fear in Olivia’s eyes. I remember being a twelve year old boy who was nothing but hormones, look into the eyes of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Being so young and feeling so drawn to another human being was the most awkward and exhilarating thing for me to understand.

“From that day forward, she was attached to us like glue. We were all always together…The Three Musketeers.” I wanted to walk over to Julia again, but I knew better.

“I loved my sister, Sebastian. I loved her like she was my blood, to me she was; I didn’t care where she came from, she was mine. The moment I saw you look at her for the first time…I knew…I knew I’d lost you…you had never looked at me like that before. The eyes you had for her were the eyes I had for you. Did you know Sebastian? Did you know how long I’ve been in love with you?” she asked.

“I do,” I replied.

“I got passed it. For so long I wanted a sister, that I didn’t care that she took you away. I knew that you would always still be in my life and that’s all that mattered to me. That was enough,” she sighed.

She looked me straight in the eyes, “The day that she died was the best and worst day of my life, Sebastian. It was the day I lost my sister and the day that I gained you.” She sadly smiled at me, “I knew that I could have you then, I knew you would look at me then…finally…I had my chance.” More tears came down Julia’s face. “I’ve never said that out loud before.”

“That’s not the way it happened, Julia, you and I didn’t get together for years after Olivia’s death,” I retorted.

“I know…” she sighed. “I knew I had to let you be. You needed to find your way, but I knew it would lead back to me. And I waited, Sebastian. I waited for you. The day you showed up at my apartment, you kissed me, and told me that you loved me. You came after me, Sebastian…why?”

I looked at my wife, the mother of my child, the woman I had loved for so long.

“Because, Babygirl…I did love you…I do love you. I came to you that night, because I needed you. It was the three year anniversary of Olivia’s death. I woke up that morning knowing that I needed to let her go, and the moment I realized that…I saw your face. I bought a plane ticket home and the rest is history.” I moved over to her and she let me. I sat on the edge of the coffee table and put my hands on the sides of her face, I made her look right at me.

“I love you, Julia, I’m sorry.” I could hear the pain and agony in my voice.

“I know…” she responded. I moved in to kiss her and she pushed me back.

“I can’t, Sebastian…” She looked down at her lap and asked, “How long were you with her?” she asked.

“Ysabelle…her name is Ysabelle,” I responded.

“Don’t you fucking dare say her name in my house, Sebastian. How long have you been with her? Do you love her?” she said, openly bawling her eyes out.

I took a deep breath. “I don’t know, Julia. I don’t know what I feel for her. I met her over a year ago at one of my client’s yacht parties. I thought I was going crazy, she looked so much like Olivia. My mind was playing tricks on me…I had to find out who she was…I had to know everything about her,” I said.

“Do you know that she’s a whore, Sebastian? Do you know that she gets paid to be with men? She was using you,” she alleged.

“Yes…Julia. I knew right from beginning what she was. I couldn’t stop myself. I tried, I swear to you I tried.”

“SHE’S NOT FUCKING OLIVIA!” she screamed and shoved me away. I put my hands in my hair, and God did I want to rip it the fuck out.

“What the fuck, Sebastian? You slept with a whore, someone who sleeps with men for money…Jesus Christ…did you have no regard for me?” She shuddered, “I mean diseases. Did you even use protection, because we don’t.”

“It’s not like that, Babygirl, you were never at risk.”

She scuffed. “Well…that’s fucking fantastic, Sebastian. Does that make it better? Should I be happy now?” she screamed.

“No, it doesn’t make it better. I’m just stating the facts. What I did was wrong. I know that. I couldn’t help it, Julia. I would never want to hurt you; I would die before I hurt you. You know that!” I argued.

“I don’t know a Goddamn thing, Sebastian…not one Goddamn thing. How long, Sebastian? How long did you betray me with your fucking lies? How long were you fucking another woman and coming home to me?” she cried, coming after me. She hit me everywhere she could and I took every last cathartic blow.

“You fucking bastard! I hate you, Sebastian! Do you fucking hear me, I fucking hate you!” she screamed over and over again, never letting up on pushing me or hitting me.

I couldn’t take it anymore and I grabbed and turned her around holding her to me.

“I know, Babygirl, I know. I’m so fucking sorry. I can’t change it, I can’t take it back, all I can do is prove to you that I love you. That nothing like this will ever happen again. I need to earn back your love and trust, I know that. Please forgive me, I fucked up,” I pleaded, trying to hold her still.

“Why am I never enough for you, Sebastian? Why?” she cried, going weak at the knees. I slowly let her go and felt her slide down my body until she was sitting at my feet hugging her entire body and comforting herself.

I had never felt more like a piece of shit in all of my life. I had broken the one person who had always given me everything. I crouched down with her and held her in my arms, rocking her back and forth. “I’ll make it better, Babygirl, I promise. I’ll make it better,” I repeated over and over again.

I picked her up and carried her to our bedroom. I placed her on my chest and tried to soothe her with reassuring words, and she let me. We stayed like that for the rest of the day until both of us fell asleep from exhaustion.

 

 

I spent the next few days recovering from the crazy mess that was my life. Although the bruise was fading, it didn’t take away the pain and anguish I felt in the depths of my being.

I still couldn’t believe what had gone down at The Gala, never in my wildest dreams had I imagined Sebastian acting anything remotely like that. The look on his poor wife’s face was enough to make me feel terrible. Not one time did I ever even think about her, about how she would feel when she found out. The truth always finds its way of being revealed; that’s the beauty of lies, they never stay hidden.

I didn’t even think it was possible to feel any less of a human being than I already did. I was a selfish woman. I had always thought about myself and what I needed to get through the day, never taking into account other people’s emotions, I don’t think I was ever a good person.

Good people don’t destroy other people’s lives like I did on a daily basis. How many married men had I’d been with? How many lives had I ruined? I had toyed with anything that would come my way and I enjoyed it. I relished being able to control my clients.

I had no one. No family, no friends, no life outside of VIP. Then suddenly my life became consumed with Sebastian and I just lived for him. I had no idea what it felt like to live for me. I thought I was happy before Sebastian, but I wasn’t. I was living in a fantasy of sex, drugs, and money; where greed and vanity ruled my everyday existence.

I hated myself. I hated who I let myself become. I could barely look at myself in the mirror the last few days.

I put on a maxi dress and wedges, applied my makeup perfectly, with my curly wavy hair flowing. I packed an overnight bag with Chance and walked through my parking garage to my car.

I rolled down all the windows and placed my aviator Channel sunglasses on my face while I smiled in my rearview mirror. I drove all the way to Tampa with BPM satellite radio station blaring out my vehicle. I didn’t want to hear my thoughts; if I did, I wouldn’t be able to do what I needed to accomplish.

I got to the neighborhood I grew up in at 2:30 p.m., and it looked as if I had never left. It took me over nine years to return to my childhood home and it was still the unkept nightmare I remembered.

As I got out of my car, I caught the stares of everyone looking at me. This was definitely not the place to be driving a luxury vehicle, that’s for sure. My clothing screamed wealth and even my dog didn’t want to take a shit in the grass. I tied Chance to a post in the yard and placed a rawhide in front of him. I could still keep him in my vision from where I was going.

Walking up to my childhood home seemed so surreal. All the memories and flashbacks of enduring all the shitty things that had ever happened to me came tumbling back. I made it to the front porch with the planks creaking beneath my feet. I took a deep breath and knocked, I waited a few minutes before knocking again.

I’m not sure why I was so nervous. Well, I kind of knew. I’d walked out on my mother when I was sixteen. Why was that haunting me? She walked out on me more times than I could count. She never cared about me. Not one day of my life did I have the nurturing from her that a mother should want to give to her child.

Reaching for the doorknob, it turned in my hand. I cautiously pushed it open. I could smell the stench before I was even inside. Instantly, a wave of cigarettes, cheap liquor, and some ungodly smell that I couldn’t even begin to describe assaulted my senses.

“Hello?” I called into the empty room, taking baby steps as I entered.

“Is anybody here?” I yelled.

I took in the scenery, looking around at the God awful mess. It looked far worse than what I had remembered. There was filth everywhere; rotten food, cigarette butts, piles of garbage, and buzzing flies roamed the area. Dirty clothing was scattered throughout the room. I noticed a rolled up blanket in the corner with something yellowish green and crusty dried to the fuzz. That explained the unfamiliar smell. I stepped around the paraphernalia, and what looked like a used needle, causing a crunch under the toe of my wedge sandal. I had never been so disgusted in all my life.

Walking over to my old room, I pushed on the door with the back of my hand, not wanting to touch it or anything else in this filth. Piles and piles of junk were everywhere. I couldn’t even see the mattress, it was like my mother had become a hoarder of garbage. I resisted the urge to find a trash bag and start pitching the junk. Walking past the bathroom was by far the worst of it all, the yellow and black ring around the toilet, the nauseating smells coming from the shower, and more garbage.

I was terrified to learn what I would find when I made it to my mother’s room. I envisioned her passed out cold across her bed. Pushing it with the back of my hand the same way I had to my own room, I found it empty. It was much of the same, maybe a little cleaner; still a dump, just less trash.

I couldn’t fathom how my mother was even living here. I wouldn’t even let my dog go in there. It made me sick and sad all at the same time. My mother was scum, although she didn’t deserve this life any more than I had.

I couldn’t take the smell anymore and I made my way to the living room when I heard the front door opening.

“Who the fuck?” I heard my mother say before looking over to see me. Her head cocked to the side, trying to take in and recognize who I was.

She looked old and strung out, not the beautiful woman I remembered. The skin on her face looked pasty and eaten up. Her yellow bloodshot eyes stared back at me, until recognition dawned on her and she smiled, to which I saw yellow and missing teeth in her mouth.

“Well, look what the fucking cat dragged in,” she said in a raspy voice I didn’t recognize.

“Hi, Mom,” I replied.

She laughed. “Mom…? Now there’s something I don’t hear every day.” She pulled her cigarettes from her brown paper bag and cheap ass Banker’s Club vodka, chugging a quarter of it. She swiped the excess with the back of her hand and stared at me intently while she lit her cigarette.

“I can’t imagine you’re here to ask for money?” she spewed.

“No. I just…I just want some answers, I guess.” I wasn’t sure where this cowardly weak voice was coming from. It was like I was once again the little girl with the sad eyes looking up to my screaming mother. 

“And how the fuck can I help you with that?”

I nervously chuckled. “You’d think that you’d be happy to see me or something.”

“Are you fucking with me? I’ve barely even noticed you were fucking gone. It saved me time and money not having you around.”

Crossing my arms, I hugged myself uneasily. Jesus…I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She really didn’t give two shits about me, not that I was expecting much, just maybe a little more than this.

“What? Am I being too insensitive? Do you need a tissue?” she asked in a condescending tone, blowing smoke straight up into the already polluted air.

“Listen, I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

“You bothered me the day you were born,” she scuffed.

“What does Princess Ysabelle want, a fairy tale? Do you want me to tell you how much I loved you? How much I wanted you? Well you came to the wrong fucking place for that. The truth is you were nothing but a fucking mistake.”

I was stunned, shocked, dazed and maybe a little traumatized. I just stood there and took it all in, not believing what I was hearing. I had to remind myself that she was the miserable one. She couldn’t help who or what she’d become. She was just following the vicious cycle, that everyone she’d had ever known did. I felt sorry for her.

“The only good thing you ever did for me was spread your legs like the little whore I knew you’d be. I made a $1,000 that night. I thought I was going to have to hold you down my damn self, but you didn’t make a fucking peep, I knew you’d enjoy it,” she laughed. “Like mother like daughter, eh baby?”

I wanted to say the mean things back that she was saying to me. I didn’t. She was right to a certain point. I guess the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree. I learned to do it with some class. She didn’t. I was no better than her. I sold myself just like she did. She was paid with drugs, I was paid with luxuries. Did that make me better?

“I’m sorry things turned out like this for you, though things weren’t exactly picture perfect for me either,” I reminded her.

“Oh come on, you play the victim card so fucking well. Did you rehearse that? Look at you,” she said, waving her cigarette up and down my attire with her lips snarled in disgust at me, “Dressed in your expensive clothes and nice car, it seems like you turned out all right. You should be fucking thanking me for giving you life, you ungrateful little fuck. You’re fucking lucky I didn’t leave you in the trash the first time you wouldn’t fucking sleep through the night. It took everything I had not to put a pillow over your face.”

“What the fuck? I’m your fucking child!” I yelled, willing the tears to stay put. I didn’t think there was anything she could say to hurt me. I was wrong. This was my mother, this lady brought me into this world and chose not to take care of me. And now, well, she chose to make me feel guilty for her having me.

She stomped the five steps to me, closing the space between us. “Fuck you! Who the hell do you think you are, coming in here judging me for my choices? I gave you life. You think you’re better than me…you’re nothing, just trailer trash dressed in nice clothes, you fuck.

“What have you been doing all these years, Ysabelle? How are you driving around in that fancy fucking car out there? That dog out there a fucking pedigree? You wearing these fancy duds because you sell your pussy? Is that what you do, Ysabelle?” she screamed in my face, leaving me no choice but to smell the smoke and cheap ass vodka on her breath.

I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. “And to think, I came here hoping to get a little closure from you, to get something, anything but this, Mom. I wasn’t expecting this at all. I just wanted to see you, make sure you were okay, and I don’t know, maybe see if there was anything you needed. Not this. I never dreamed of this.”

“I didn’t fucking want you,” she screamed again. My words had no effect on her whatsoever. It was a hopeless cause.

“You were nothing but a pain in my ass and it looks like things haven’t fucking changed. Don’t try to act like a saint with me. I know what you did with those boys. Spreading your legs for anyone that would give you any fucking attention. I saw you. I watched you right out there in that alley. You let that boy put his hands in your pants. You were such a needy little girl,” she reminded me.

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Do you have any fucking clue why I did any of those things! I did it because I fucking had to. You never gave a shit about me; I had to fend for myself, you selfish bitch!” I screamed, trying to catch my breath, “Who’s my father?” I questioned, needing to change the conversation.

She snorted. “Fuck if I know. I don’t know who you belong to. Why the fuck would I care? Men are as disposable as you fucking are. Ugh…get the fuck out of my house, you’re killing my buzz,” she demanded, walking back to her bedroom.

“You know, for the longest time I thought it was me,” I confessed, causing her to stop dead in her tracks, turn around and gawk at me with the same look of disgust that she had since she walked through that door.

“I thought it was my fault, why you didn’t love me. I thought I deserved to be treated the way you treated me. I spent the first twelve years of my life, trying to be a good girl for you, hoping if I was good, you’d love me. You want to hear the really fucked up part, Mom?” I asked, sitting on the edge of the filthy sofa. I had to sit down, I wasn’t prepared for the wave of emotions.

“I still loved you. I loved you even though I never had shit to eat. I loved you when I had blisters all over my feet because you didn’t buy me shoes. I loved you when I went to school smelling like this filth. I loved you when I laid on that disease infested mattress that you would use as if it was fucking yours. I loved you when I would get on that bus every morning and listen to the kids make fun of me for wearing the same shirt for a week at a time.” I blew out a puff of air and took in a deep breath, trying to continue. I looked up to see her face. She looked like a sad, weak, desolate human being.

“Do you remember any of that? I loved you when I laid in that room, crying because I was afraid all the men were hurting you as I listened to you moan. Did you ever care? Did you ever care that your three, four, five year old little girl was laying in there crying because she was scared for you? I even fucking loved you after you let a man come into my room and rape me.”

I stood, knowing that I’d said enough, any more and I wasn’t going to be able to control my tears that were begging to be released. I reached into my purse, pulled out a wad of cash and dropped it on the coffee table with the rest of the trash. I walked to the door and I turned around one last time.

“You’re nothing but a fucking bottom feeder. You’re a waste of a human being. You will die in this shithole by yourself with your drugs and booze. The county will come and cremate your fucking body and they will call me to come get you, and I will tell them to throw you in the dumpster where you fucking belong,” I violently spoke.

“Get a good look at me, Mom, because this will be the last time you will ever see my face again,” I affirmed before I turned and walked out of my mother’s life.

I walked out that door vowing to myself that I would never come close to that woman as long as I lived. I smiled at the little boys, playing with Chance as I wiped the uncontrollable falling tears.

No sooner was I in my car with the door shut did I heave. I cried for a life no child should ever have to endure.

I wanted Sebastian. God, I needed Sebastian.