23

 

 

When I was a teenager, and my belly felt like it was going to devour itself in hunger, I’d daydream about chocolate.

Not the Hershey’s kind or butterfingers. The standard American candies. I'd walk past Madam Wise's Tea Emporium on Main, where there was a display of British chocolates, arranged in the window like shiny gifts. The purple bars, boxes and parcels were nestled in between the tea sets and random herbs of which I’d never known.

I think about my sixteenth birthday when I think about chocolate. Smoking a joint under the bleachers with Rina and doing impressions of the cheer squad that turned out more like Betty Boop. Rina got all shy on the way home before her driver picked her up. She thrust a rucksack in my hand. It was full of every type of British candy bar that I could imagine. Cadbury's. Galaxy. Smarties. She’d seen me checking out the window, even though I’d played it off like I didn’t care.

I took such care with my gift. I'd take out a bar on special occasions and ration it like gold. When I was hungry, starving. Weak and alone. I'd take out a bar of that candy and I’d pop a square in my mouth and let it dissolve.

Rina gave me something warm and sweet, like her, and it was one of the only kindnesses that I experienced as a child.

Our friendship started with a candy bar. And she'd save my sanity with a bag of them.

I was alight with anger as I left Elliot's house. I couldn’t even focus properly as I walked to the edge of the gated community and marched towards the centre of town. It took over an hour to get back to my apartment, and I stopped off at a convenience store that was tucked away on the corner. Its offensive chain brand was hidden away from the quaint family businesses on Main Street.

I bought standard candy bars, a box of wine and a burner phone so I could call Rina. I wasn’t going to step over the threshold of the Mini-Gold Manor if I could help it.

I was torn between two soul-shattering issues.

Mama had tortured me, beat me and subjected me to hatred and abuse. That woman wasn’t my biological mother. Who was? Did I have a family out there that had given me up? Mama wasn’t awake for me to ask. I had no clue.

The second problem was Elliot Gold and I cursed myself for feeling as broken as I did. The second I’d seen Sarah in that robe in his kitchen, something inside of me had burned bright and destructive. I had tried to keep a mental distance from Elliot. Maintaining the knowledge that when he was done with slumming with a stripper that he'd go back to his life in New York. Then, I'd wave him off with dignity. I told myself that he'd be a happy memory. A video reel of fuck-hot sex that I’d play in my mind when the night got lonely and cold.

Somehow, even though I’d known that Elliot and I were friends. Casual. In a faux relationship without the commitment. My heart hadn’t gotten the memo.

I'd taken a mental beating for Elliot Gold and my heart was too bruised to know whether it was coming or going.

He'd taken me to dinner with his family.

He gave me gifts all the time.

He never failed to watch me dance, booking out my Thursdays so he could have me to himself.

Elliot would watch me sleep.

He listened to every word I said and didn’t just wait for his turn to speak.

Just being near him was enough to make me want to tear off his clothes and declare my love for him with his cock buried so deep inside me that we became one person.

I didn’t want to admit to myself, but I had pinned my hopes on Elliot.

I had always thought that I was unlovable. Turns out I had been right.

My Pop had killed himself and I blamed myself for that. If I had been a better daughter. If I had behaved better. Maybe he wouldn’t have swallowed the barrel of a shotgun.

Woulda shoulda coulda.

Deep down, I had believed that I had earned Mama's strikes. It wasn’t until I had gotten much older that I started to think differently.

That knowledge didn’t affect the tiny voice squirrelled away at the back of my mind that told me I’d earned Mama's wrath.

I was such a fool.

The writing had been on the wall.

Sarah Mallory was pregnant with his child. They'd slept together.

My thoughts began to unravel. My head pounded.

I curled up in bed with my chocolate bars and ate them all until my stomach bloated and I felt like I’d vomit if I moved.

I fell straight to sleep. My wine and new phone left untouched on my coffee table.

 

 

I woke up to the smell of a TeaSpoon salted caramel cappuccino. The only frou-frou drink on the menu that I could tolerate. Said to-go cup hovered in front of my face with Rina's hand attached.

“From the chocolate wrappers in your bed, I’m guessing your Mama's not doing so well.”

I raised my hand to push my rat's nest of hair out of my face and noticed that a Reese’s wrapper was stuck to the back of my hand.

“No talk. Coffee. Now.” I grappled the cardboard cup and downed half of it, knowing that it would have cooled slightly on Rina’s journey over. The bed bounced when Rina settled by my side.

“You weren’t answering your phone.” Rina said. “Plus there was no new photos on your Instagram.”

“If I don’t post on Instagram then you assume I’m dead?” I crooked an eyebrow.

“Pretty much.”

“Do you want me to rant about the shit-tastic few days I've had?” I asked. “Because you'll need to go into the living room and get my box of wine.”

“It's only eleven.” Rina's expression was amused as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“I need wine to be able to talk about this.” I explained with my fingers rubbing circles on my temple. “I really do.”

Rina poured us both a glass and I explained everything.

How Elliot and I had slept together at the masquerade and he had found me at the Pink Sleeve. How we'd agreed to become friends... but not friends at the same time. We were in casual fling flux.

She knew about Sarah Mallory's pregnancy and was just as confused as I was.

“I walked in on her doing a line of coke at the Thanksgiving Eve dinner party. She didn’t care. She'd gone into one of the guest rooms, drunk. She just went crazy after you and Elliot left.”

“Does Elliot know?” I asked.

Rina shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“I want to say that it doesn’t matter and that he chose her, but no baby should have a mother that’s willing to put them in danger like that. Someone needs to speak to her.” I said adamantly.

“I saw the announcement in the Post.  Are you okay?”

“Rina...” It physically hurt to speak about what I’d seen. “I walked in on Elliot and Sarah at his house last night. He told me that it was a one-time thing. That I was the only one.”

Rina's expression took on a funny twist. “Yesterday? Elliot's been in New York since yesterday morning.”

My heart crashed into my chest with the speed of a runaway train. “What?”

“Sarah released a public statement about Elliot and the baby and it put one of Elliot's contracts at risk. He told me to keep an eye on you. He had to leave but he really didn’t want to.”

I rubbed my hand over my face and put my wine glass on the bedside table. I felt sick all over again. My face flushed with heat when I realised what an idiot I was. “Sarah got me.” I spoke slowly, like my mouth was full of cotton wool.

“What do you mean?”

“I went to Elliot's last night. She was there. There was a trail of clothes leading to the bedroom.” I fiddled the edge of my comforter. “She told me they'd had sex. I even heard the shower running.”

Rina swore under her breath. “Oh damn. She’s good.”

“I should have had faith in Elliot. I shouldn’t have believed her.” I said, sadly.

“That’s right. In theory. But it's pretty damn hard when a naked woman is in your boyfriend's house.” Rina put her hand over mine. Stopping me from pulling any more threads from the purple material.

“It doesn’t matter. Maybe I should just get the memo, huh?” My laughter was laced with my tears. “Elliot and Sarah belong together.”

Rina opened her mouth to argue with her but I shook my head, as tears threatened to spill.

“It’s true. I've got nothing to offer.”

“That’s a damn lie.” Rina snarled. “You’re the best person I know.”

“I’m really not, Rina.” My voice was soft, but sure. “I didn’t want to give Mama a piece of my liver. She's dying, Rina, and I didn't want to.”

“Harry. I know you. You'd give her a slice of your liver if she needs it. You may hesitate. You may run to the airport terminal, but you wouldn’t get on the plane.” Rina said.

“I don’t think I’m strong enough for this.” I whispered.

“Do you love him?” Rina asked.

“Y-Yes.”

“And he loves you.” She said it as a statement. Not a question. “You gotta trust him. Julian told me some things. They're not my place to say. But you gotta believe him. He does not want Sarah Mallory.”

I nodded. “I've seen her smug and lying face. It's hard, y'know? When Sarah was there. Naked. For a second, I forgot all the good things about Elliot and I was just so darn a-angry at him.”