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Chase’s eyes bore into mine. “What?”
“I… uh…”
He whips his head back to Stan. “You’ve… you’ve been cheating on Mom?”
“I don’t need to answer to you,” Stan blusters.
Thomas tenses, as if waiting for his brother to strike.
Still holding his sleeve, I watch as Chase takes a few deep breaths, calming down enough to unclench his fists before shaking me off and turning his back on his father. “How long have you known, Bell?” His voice cracks on my name, echoing the one spreading across my heart. “And you kept it from me?”
Purposely, I don’t look at Thomas. “I didn’t… I mean… it wasn’t like that.” I sound lame even to my own ears.
But it doesn’t matter. Chase’s eyes sweep from me to Thomas and to the elevator behind us. “I see.” And with that he walks off, heading toward the stairway door.
I go after him. “Chase, please, wait!”
Stopping at the doorway, he turns to me, hurt and anger in his eyes. “No. Like I said. I quit.” His tone makes it obvious it isn’t just Moore’s he’s quitting.
The heavy security door falls back in place with a bang, breaking open the fissure in my heart.
28
CHASE
“I don’t understand how it’s come to this.”
Mike continues to lick his hairless testicles.
My apartment is dark. Not because it’s evening. It isn’t. I think it might be mid-afternoon or something. I don’t know. I’ve lost track of the days, let alone the time.
My ass is numb from sitting in this same spot. Honestly, if I could piss from this position, I wouldn’t even get up to use the bathroom. I guess my self-pity has some boundaries because I draw the line at that. But I have shut all the blinds like a vampire, in addition to not turning on any lights.
And with my speakers droning out a constant stream of Elvis’s greatest hits, I’ve basically created the perfect mood for Mike to go after his balls like a porn star.
Looking at the debauched, hairless feline, I continue my bewilderment. “I mean, how did things go so wrong so fast?”
No answer. Not even an affectionate, sympathetic cuddle. Just another loud slurp to his nether regions.
For a pussy, he can be such a dick.
“Heartbreak Hotel” starts up, and it’s so apt I find myself saluting my speakers with my drink.
That’s right. I’m drinking, too. For the past however many days, I’ve lived in sweatpants, eaten questionable leftovers from my fridge, and gone through two bottles of Scotch.
I’m wallowing. I’m a sad, pathetic wallower.
I can’t shake off what happened.
Bell. Her boob. Thomas’s hand.
My chest pangs, and I move on to the next present revelation.
It seems it is my very existence that curdled my father’s heart. He would’ve rather had more company shares. And as much as his horrid insight answered the questions I’ve had my entire life about our relationship, I’d be a robot if it also didn’t shred my soul.
I slosh some more whiskey into my glass.
“And Stan and Denise?” I ask Mike, even though I know even if he could, he wouldn’t answer. I scoff into my drink before taking a long sip.
