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“How did you get in here?”
She lifts a key, her eyes sparkling with victory.
“You returned your key, Cynthia.” After all of this time, why is she harassing me now?
“I might have had a few others made.” She slowly rolls her eyes across the heavens as she says the words, a slight smile curving the corners of her lips.
“You can't just show up here unannounced and uninvited. You're not welcome and this is trespassing. Besides, what would your husband say if he found you here?” Maybe threatening her with the breakup of her marriage while simultaneously reminding her that I'm not interested in her and don't want her around will persuade her to make better choices. I sincerely doubt it, but it's worth a try.
I notice she's wearing a white Lacy dress that fits far too tight and shows off a lot of skin. Her red high heels and the diamonds and rubies adorning her skin offer an odd contrast, like fresh blood on snow. Honestly, she looks like she just got back from Club Red, and old memories pour back. Memories I don't want to think about. Memories I'm not ready to face.
Her blonde hair is in a messy bun and her makeup is thick, almost caked on her face. She ignores Moira, as if the woman I'm here with doesn't exist. Heck, she's acting like she owns the place, like she owns me. She doesn't own either.
“I can go wherever I damn well please and you can't stop me.” Her eyes are angry, and I’m simply confused.
Why is she here? Why does she think she can lay some claim to my life? Why hasn't she moved on? I thought that I was safe because she hadn't come around for so long, but now it just feels like she's trying to worm her way back into my life. And I am not interested in that can of worms.
“Besides, you can't pretend like you don't want me here.” She gestures at Moira, an annoyed look on her face. “Why else would you be messing around with her?”
I glance at Moira, trying to figure out if there's some personal bad blood between the two, but Moira slightly lifts her shoulders and eyebrows, indicating she has no idea what Cynthia's problem is.
“After all this time, you hadn't moved on.” Cynthia tosses her clutch on the dresser where she used to keep the damn thing and memories continue trying to flood back, but I refuse to give them a second thought. “Then, the same day that I came to return your watch, all of a sudden she shows up. If I didn't know any better, I’d think you were just trying to make me jealous.”
There's no way that Cynthia is so self-centered. She thinks that this is all just a game to drag her back into my life. Nobody is that self-serving... right?
“Besides, you never changed the locks after we broke up. You never moved on. You still love me, don't you? Don't lie.”
I stand there trying to keep up with her insanity, and failing.
“I shouldn't have to change the locks. Normal people don't try to break in after they've broken up with someone. I have absolutely moved on. I don't love you.” I don't know how I can be any more clear or to the point. If she doesn't understand, it's because she is willfully refusing to.
Still, I feel the need to continue, even as her eyes narrow. “We are over, Cynthia. We've been over for a long time. You need to accept that and move on. You're married to someone else.” Or did she forget that detail?
Instead of responding, she turns her attention to Moira. “So who is she, Michael? Some cheap fling, a low-class woman you picked up from Club Red?”
Moira’s attention snaps to us, and I feel a surge of protectiveness and a need to stand up for her. “No, I didn't find her Club Red. And she’s not a cheap fling - she’s nothing like you.”
I hear Moira almost choke at my words.
“You shouldn't lie to yourself, Michael. You don't like her. You're still stuck on me.”
All these head games have gone far enough and I let out a barking laugh. Cynthia's eyes widen in surprise as I take a step toward her. “I don't love you, Cynthia. I don't even like you. Hell, I'm pretty sure I hate you at this point. Did you forget all of the awful things you did to me? Because I didn't.” I take another step closer to her, and I see the hollow at the base of her throat bottom out. “You need to leave now.”
She finally seems to realize that I'm serious and she takes a step back. Her gaze travels past me to the bed, and when she glances at me again, her eyes sparkle with tears. “Don't you remember how happy I made you, Michael? How good we were together?”
I shake my head. “No, but I remember how you cheated on me. Or remember how many times you stepped out of the marriage. I remember that you married the guy that you were cheating on me with weeks after our divorce was finalized. Did you forget that?”
“Screw you, Michael.” With that, Cynthia grabs her bag and then throws a glare at Moira. “Don't worry, sweetie. He'll do you just as dirty as you did me.”
“Sounds like you were the one doing people dirty in the relationship.” Moira sounds completely disinterested as she looks anywhere other than at Cynthia.
My ex lets out a hiss before storming out of the room and out of my house, hopefully for good this time.
Chapter Eleven
Moira
I look around the table, stunned that we've gotten the girls back together again so soon.
