Denial (48 page)

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Oh, I think you do.”

He nods. “I’m not his real son. I’m adopted, and not in the we-love-you-as-much-as-our-real-kids kind of way. Not since my mother died. She was the one that gave a shit. No fancy boarding schools though. I was too much trouble back then.”

Oh, you are still trouble. With a capital T.
“It shouldn’t surprise me that I’m saying this, but, me too. I wasn’t his actual daughter, he adopted me after he married my mom. My baby brother couldn’t pronounce Moriah, that’s how I got my decidedly not Southern name. My last name was changing, so we did the first one too.”

“I guess I still owe you one from that day.”
Just one?
“Roti and dal.”

“Excuse me?”

“Biscuits and gravy. Roti and dal.”

“You’re from India?”

“Yes.”

“Like, ethnically?”

“No,” he replies with a hint of levity. “But I am one quarter something other than white. I don’t know what though.”

“Were you a baby when you came here?”

“No, I was five.” So he remembers it. “Well, go ahead, ask.”

“Ask what?”

“Whatever it is that you’re thinking about. It’s all over your face.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Gut feeling.”

“Fuck it. Ask me.”

“So, that picture I saw on your dresser in your room… was she your biological mother?”

“You saw that?” he whispers. “I never bring anyone up there. Yes. She was.”

Clearly, I should have gone with my gut instinct. Isaac is getting jittery, but not in that angry way that scares me. I can’t tell if he’s trying to keep himself from crying or screaming, but breathing appears to be getting difficult.

“I’m sorry I asked.”

“It’s alright, but… Maya, I can’t really talk about her. It’s kind of a trigger.”

“That’s fine.”

“Can we stop fighting please?” he croaks. “I’m so sorry about everything I said.”

“Me too.”

It’s getting worse, and even though it’s probably a bad idea, I find myself moving closer to him, desperate to fix it somehow. As soon as I’m within reach, he grabs me, pulling me into his chest as my arms wrap around his shoulders. That familiar primal excitement inappropriately spreads throughout my body as soon as I feel his hand cup the back of my head. We tumble down to the ground and I’m folded in his lap, my favorite place in the entire world, but there’s no comfort here tonight because his heart is drumming is my ear so fast it’s worrying, each breath labored and shallow. He’s going to have a full blown fucking panic attack in my arms because I didn’t keep my mouth shut.

“Maybe you should take something,” I whisper. He shakes his head no against my neck. “Just a little bit, Isaac.” This horrible, mournful sound reverberates through him into me. “Baby, calm down. It’s okay.”

“Don’t go!” he sobs, ripping my heart from my chest. “We’ll figure it out.
Please.
Don’t leave me. Not yet.”

“I won’t. I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here.” He’s holding me so tightly it hurts and I can barely breathe, but I don’t want to tell him. “Just a little bit, Isaac.”

“I know you don’t like that shit.”

“It will be safer.” My ribs expand as his grip loosens when he pulls back a little, head down, eyes closed. My hands can’t help themselves, caressing his face the way they always do in bed because it seems to soothe him. It’s not working. “Please. I don’t want you to get so angry at me anymore.”

“Did I scare you?” He looks up at me so guiltily. Those eyes. They get me every time, especially if they’re a little red.

“I didn’t for a second think you were going to hurt me,” I reassure him. “But it can be very intimidating.”

“Okay,” he answers quietly. I’m expecting him to get up and go to his room, but instead he just reaches into his pocket and pulls out a little silver bottle, but his hands are shaking so badly he can’t open it, so I do it for him.

“Just one?” I ask, fishing out a pill from the nearly empty
vessel and handing it to him. Surprisingly, I don’t feel like this is wrong at all. I might need to update my philosophy on drug usage.

“Yes.” He crunches it between his teeth loudly.

“Is that why you didn’t take anything today.”

“No, but that’s why I want to quit. Today…”

“What?”

“I did not fuck her. I swear. I promise. I didn’t. I’ll never—”

“I believe you.” Wow. I actually do. “But what does that have to do with the pills?”

“Maya, that woman I saw today. Gloria. We do have a history. A long one. I have slept with her in the past. A lot.”

Despite my best efforts, a painful groan escapes my throat. It makes him look even guiltier. “It’s alright. Thank you for being honest.” I lean forward and kiss his cheek. “Is that the woman you’re still involved with? The one that used to be with your father?”

“Yes.”

“The one you thought you were in love with?” I peep.

“I wasn’t. I wanted to be, I think, but I never actually was. It was a long time ago.”

“But you’re still involved.”

“I haven’t fucked her in… I’m not really sure. Probably just under a year. And it was very sporadic for a couple of years before that. But in the years before that it was… very frequent.”

“When did you first get involved with her?” I test him. I can see him trying to come up with some sort of calculation that keeps with his official story of getting involved with this fucked up scene in his senior year of high school. “Please don’t lie to me.”

“Maya,” he whispers. “I can’t really talk about it.”

“Okay.” I can’t push him, not like that, not with that little kid face, so full of shame, barely recovered.

Tentatively, he leans in to kiss me softly, sending a charge through every nerve of my body and brain. I don’t want to fight anymore either. I want our bubble back. Our lips part and it gets deeper until our tongues are dancing together. I can’t believe we’re actually doing this, that this has been as real as I hoped it was the whole time. That it isn’t going to expire. And most of all, he didn’t fuck her. But how long will that last? I stiffen up in his arms involuntarily, pulling away from him.

“Maya?”

“Fuck!” I exclaim, sounding more like him than I ever have. “I’m sorry, I just can’t help it. I have to know this
one
thing. I need to know about her. I have some major trust issues. Obviously.”

“I can’t get into it. It’s extremely complicated.”

“Yeah, no shit. You have a girlfriend,” I spit back at him.

“She’s not my fucking girlfriend. And technically, you still have a boyfriend.”

“That isn’t fair. I would have broken up with him by now if it wasn’t for you.” That came out sharply. Dammit. Just when I thought this fight was over. He looks wounded. “Shit.”

“It’s fine. I’ll… I’ll fucking try. For you.”

Taking a deep breath, I resolve to stay calm. “What, exactly, is the nature of your current relationship with Gloria? What does it have to do with you not taking any pills today? And while we’re at it, why are you freshly showered?”

His temper flares visibly. “Did they all cheat on you? Is that how you got like this? Am I going to be living in the shadow of their mistakes, too? Because my own are already a very heavy burden.”

“Okay, Isaac, I guess I’ll go first,” I snap. Stay calm. “Yes, they did all cheat on me. But no, that’s not how I got like this.”

“Do you even know? Are you ever going to be able to trust me?”

“I hope so. You’re not making it very easy right now.”

“But do you know? I’m not an expert, but most people think fidelity is possible, if not expected. Why don’t you?” I look down to hide the tears in my eyes. With a frustrated huff, he rips my chin up, the anger evaporating when he sees me crying. “Fuck!” he curses himself.

I fall against his chest, nuzzling into his shoulder. The comfort of his arms makes it easier to open up, and I guess I should take this opportunity to show him that I’ll try too. “I’m like this because that’s what I was taught to be like. When I was a little kid.”

His lips press against the top of my head as he squeezes me tighter. “Me too.” As soon as the words come out, he tenses up and lets out a regretful moan.

“I know.” I peck his collarbone and trace my fingers on his back. “I already know. You already told me.”

“What?” he croaks.

“You said something that I don’t think you realized that you said. Something that contradicts the official time frame you’ve been giving me.” I’m trying to tiptoe around it so he doesn’t freak out, but it isn’t working very well.

“What do you mean?”

“I know that you’ve been doing this for a long time before you turned seventeen. We don’t have to talk about it, but it feels wrong not to tell you that I know.”

I brace myself for him to rage, to push me away and run, but instead his body relaxes in my arms and he lets out a relieved sigh.  His muscles are looser than I’ve ever felt them, even when he was drugged up and sleeping. Toying with the hair on the nape of his neck, I rock him back and forth, kissing any part of his jawline or neck that I can get my mouth on without disturbing him.

“Why is this happening?” he murmurs. “I should have lost it.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just enjoy this.”

He lifts his face, the beauty of his features shocking me. I kiss his forehead, his perfect cupid’s bow, his cheeks, his nose, his stubbly chin and jaw. I kiss him everywhere until my lips brush against his as I run my fingers through his hair. He’s putty in my hands for once.

“You make everything so much better,” he whispers. “You don’t even have to try.”

“Actually, I do. This girlfriend thing doesn’t exactly come naturally to me.”

“Is that what you are?” he squeaks. God, I hate the reason, but he’s so ridiculously cute when he’s insecure like this. Such a stark contrast from when he’s dominating every part of me in bed. I don’t have a favorite, either. They’re both just so
him
.

“If that’s what you want me to be.”

“You know I do.” He kisses me softly, his thumbs stroking my cheekbones. “So was that our first fight?”

“Yeah. I think you just had your first fight with your first girlfriend.” That smile. He’s so adorable it hurts. “But we’ll have to wait a few hours for the makeup sex.”

“Make up sex. I’ve heard about that. Is it cuddly or rough?”

“It can go either way.”

“I think I’d prefer cuddly. We’re pretty stocked up on rough.”

“Yeah,” I giggle. “I suppose we are.”

He kisses me again. I don’t have the heart to tell him that the fight isn’t over so much as it is on hold. Maybe we’ll just talk about it in the morning. I don’t want to ruin this moment. But just like he always does, he can tell something is off, pulling back and studying my face as I try to hide the doubt that I somehow know he doesn’t deserve.

The ever present tension in his perfect body returns, making me guilty. “So, if I were to objectively psychoanalyze myself I’d say she’s kind of like a maternal figure.”

“We don’t have to do this now.”

“No, you need this and I might not ge
t another chance without Hulking out.” He presses his trembling lips against mine. “My father gave me to her when I was fourteen.”

“Gave you to her?” And holy shit that’s really young.

“Her. I will talk to you about her.
Not him
. Don’t even ask,” he says sharply, but controlled. “I don’t know how else to explain it. It’s this weird topping from the bottom situation. Well, it was.”

“Topping from the bottom?”

“Yes. She’s submissive, sexually, but not really. She stays in control and we only ever did what she wanted to do, but acted like that wasn’t what was going on.”

“Did you live with her?”

“Yeah, after my mom died, that’s where I ended up. Stayed through high school.”

“Okay.” Fuck this is hard to hear. God knows what else he has to say about the countless others there have been. “So why are you still involved?”

“Well, I broke it off when I was eighteen, but not really. And I…” he takes a deep breath. “I need her.” My chest collapses. “Not like that. Not like you. We’re involved professionally. ”

“Like a sugar mama?”

“No,” he laughs. “I— look he keeps me a pretty tight leash, always has. I started taking cooking classes in high school because I was good friends with Glory’s personal chef and I have a knack for it. And because of me, well, my relationship with her really, I was able to get her to loan him money to start a restaurant. It took off, there are three now, and we still work together to keep the menu fresh. That’s where I was for most of the day. And I own part of all of them, but it’s in this messed up convoluted paperwork way that I don’t really understand. She set it up. She hides the money, and if I need it, I have to go through her and it takes a few weeks. My dad would freak the fuck out if he knew. So, yeah, I have to play nice with her until Paul can buy her out. But now I’m going to need her even more.”