Author's Note: Okay, y'all are so cool. The feedback has been truly amazing, I am really really touched and blown away about how thoughtful and in depth the comments have been. Like, holy crap, fam.
A few notes for Chapter 7-
-This is technically the last chapter in the story, but I am writing a Chapter 8 which is an epilogue of sorts. That said, you can expect to see all of these characters again soon when it's time for someone else's story to come through.
-This chapter has Spanish phrases. I assure you that any Spanish in the story is there for flavor and is contextually explained, and you won't need to speak the language to understand what's going on. I wouldn't do that to you. I love you. For the deeply curious, please feel free to look up the meanings and you'll see what I mean.
-Bent/Bent Backwards, this story was absolutely 110% influenced by @herdirtymind's story with Oliver and Ethan. I pray it's not too derivative. If you don't know what I'm talking about, and you have enjoyed this story thus far, I really deeply encourage you to read that work, she is really fantastic and the stories are fire.
OH. one more--it's long. I am sorry or you're welcome, choose your own.
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I didn't hear from him on Christmas. Or the day after.
The week between Christmas and New Year's is a week outside of time. The intensity of the holidays fade for a last hurrah ten seconds before midnight before exploding into the monotony of another cold northeastern winter. I spend that evening alone in my apartment; Mami goes to Westchester and Veronica goes out with her friends. I wonder if Asa is at the farm.
On New Year's Day, Tara comes over. She knocks on the door instead of coming in like she usually does, and stands awkwardly in the doorway.
She looks like she's been crying. Her hair isn't curled, in fact it's in a ponytail and it doesn't even look like she brushed it. I don't think I've ever seen it like that. Even when we slept together, she always at least braided it. She's in rough shape.
"Can I hug you?" I ask softly. She looks up at me in surprise, but then rushes into my arms and begins to cry.
"I'm so sorry, Jonny," she cries. I rest my chin on top of her head and hold her.
"It's okay," I murmur.
"No, it isn't!" she says in a frustrated sob.
"No, it isn't," I concede. "I guess I'm just trying to say be easy."
She pulls away and wipes her eyes on her hoodie. I hand her the roll of toilet paper I've been using for tissues. She gives me a look but then blows her nose. I sit down at the table.
"So, let's talk," I gesture to a chair.
Tara sits. And through tears she tells me the story of how the new hot-shot attorney that started at the firm last year, had taken her under his wing. They worked very closely and things just kind of spiraled out from there.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to--that sounds so stupid, but I never wanted that. It just happened," she mumbles.
I'm quiet for a moment trying to sort things in my head.
"When did it start?" I finally ask. I don't know why I want to know.
Tara is silent and looks down at her hands. The tears start spilling again and she wipes at her eyes, takes a deep breath and says, "June."
"June,"
I breathe.
That one feels like an arrow straight to the heart, hard enough that I wince and literally put my hand on my chest. I nod. I feel my own eyes water. I look away and try to breathe through it.
I put down the deposit on her ring in June. God damn.
A fresh wave of sobs course through her, "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."
I can't use my voice. I just nod. It's all I have to give.
"Why aren't you screaming at me," she sobs. "You're supposed to be mad, you're supposed to scream at me, totally freak out."
I swallow the lump. "Yeah. I guess it's easier to leave someone who's angry."
She cries harder. I close my eyes. Do I tell her about Asa? Is it selfish not to? Or is it selfish because it'll just hurt her? What if it gets back to Veronica?
"I've been cheating," I clear my throat, my arm propped on the table, my forehead on my palm.
Her head snaps up. "What?"
I nod. She heard me. "November."
"Jonny, what the fuck?" she cries, her pitch going up at the end of her sentence. New tears now, but these are angry. I let out a wet laugh. C'mon, Tara.
"Tara, what the fuck?" I echo.
"And you were going to propose?" she asks, incredulous.
"No, actually, I wasn't." I sit up now.
The words hang in the air. She looks at me stunned. I'm just hurting her here, I don't want to be. I don't know what's worse, though. What's worse?
"I paid for it in payments. I started that way before I fucked up," I explain. "But it just came in. And you found it."
"When did you buy it?" she whispers.
I gaze at her. I sigh, "It doesn't matter, Tara. What matters is that our relationship apparently ended a lot sooner than we thought. We just didn't want to deal with it."
Tara buries her face in her hands and sobs. We sit for a while like that.
Eventually, she raises her head. "Who?"
I look at her. This is going to suck.
"Asa," I whisper. Tara reels back like I hit her. She stares at me dumbfounded.
"That's not funny, Jonny, I'm being serious," she exclaims.
I just look at her and will my tears to just stay in my face.
She's shook. "Asa.
Asa
Asa?"
"The one and only." The one and only.
"Since when are you gay?" she cries out. I study her.
I sit with the question. I mean I've asked that enough times myself. I don't know that I've come to any real conclusion.
"I just...I just really don't think it works like that," I say slowly.
"And Veronica? You guys are assholes!" she's furious, and that pisses me off.
"Cuidao," I warn her using the murmur my mother reserved for when we've fucked around and were about to find out. Miss Duolingo closes her mouth; if she doesn't recognize the word, she sure as shit recognizes the tone. She closes her eyes, too, and tilts her head back as though she's praying for patience.
I steeple my fingers. "Here's the thing, Tara. We all fucked up. I'm really pissed and hurt. You are, too. I'm not coming at you, though. I got my shit with my sister and I got my shit with you and you got your shit with me. Let me worry about my relationship with my sister."
"She's never going to forgive you," she sneers.
"Do you need to ride your high horse up on outta here? If you do that's okay. Because I'm gonna tell you right now if you come out the side of your neck at me one more time, you can get the fuck out. I'm not playing with you like this," I say very softly, doing my best to keep the heat out of my voice.
She relents and sighs, nodding. We sit in silence again.
After a while she murmurs, her eyes welling up. "So this is it, huh?"
I gaze at her. Her beautiful face. Her brilliant green eyes. The way her nose turns up just a bit at the end. I swallow the lump in my throat. I nod and blink back the tears.
"You think you'll ever forgive me?" she whispers.
"I already have," I chew my lip. "I get it. And I love you. It hurts like hell, though. Do you think you'll forgive me?"
"Did you even say you were sorry?" she asks. I think on it. I'm not sure.
"I am sorry, Tara. Truly. For everything." I close my eyes and bury my face in my arms. I'm so, so tired.
"Okay," she says, emotion clogging her throat. "Okay."
I hear her chair push back and I look up. She is torn up, but I can see relief in her eyes. Like a weight has been lifted. It's bittersweet. She leans over and gives me a kiss on the top of my head.
