Whispering Wishes (27 page)

“I can’t help it, I just want you.
All the time.”

“I feel the same way.
If only we could just shut out the rest of the world, huh?” He sighs and sits up as I pull away and walk out of the room. “See you down there, stud.”

“Stud?”

“Yeah, I’m still trying to find a nickname for you,” I yell back to him as I move down the hallway to the stairs.

It’s been a
good day. Working with Mischa was fun because I gave her a hard time about the concert she sent us to. She was laughing and apologetic. The store was busy and I rang up a lot of sales, which was great. After leaving, I make a stop at the local drug store to get all the personal items I need and even manage a quick trip to my favorite lingerie store to stock up on a few items. Now that I’m actually having sex, having some new items to wear for Wes makes me feel excited.

When I get home, there’s a car I don’t recognize in the driveway and in the way
, so I can’t pull into the garage. Not wanting to lug all my purchases into the house from this distance, I decide to leave them for now, and go into the house.

When I walk through the front door, I can’t resist calling out, “Hey stud, I’m home.”

I walk around the corner and come to a complete stop when I reach the living room. There’s a woman I don’t recognize standing there with nothing but panties and a bra on. Wes is shirtless and reaching out towards her, as if to pull her into his body.

Pain like ice runs through my body.
My stomach drops to the floor somewhere and my heart is in my throat, and then rips to shreds. I’m amazed at how instantly tears come to my eyes. I open my mouth to yell, “What the hell!” but Wes’ face stops me. He just stares at me with his eyes wide, and mouth open. It opens and closes like he’s a fucking goldfish, but he never says a word. Doesn’t deny anything, doesn’t tell me it isn’t what it looks like, doesn’t utter a word. She, however, looks at me with fury in her eyes. “Who the fuck are you, and why are you in my house?”

A cry emits from my throat out of nowhere, and I spin on my heels running back out the door to my car, driving away as fast as my car can take me.

I
’m crying so
hard I can barely see the damn road. I drive one handed and use my other one to search for my phone in my purse, pulling it free when my fingers find it tucked in a corner. I hold down a button and instruct, “Call Mischa.”

The phone starts ringing, so I place it on speaker phone with the push of a button.
“Hello?”

“Mischa?” My voice breaks on her name.

“Aspen, what’s wrong?”

“I… I… know you’re working… right now… but… but I need you.
As soon as you can get away.”

“What happened?
Where are you?”

“In… in… my car.”
I swipe at the snot pouring down my nose with the back of my hand. It’s gross, but I don’t care. “Wes… Wes… and a girl… I think Arianna….no clothes… and Wes…” I trail off unable to continue.

“I’m closing the store
. Meet me at my apartment, okay?”

“M’kay,” I sniff.

“And Aspen, please drive safely. Pull over and take a minute if you have to, okay?”

“Okay.”
Hanging up my phone, I carefully make my way to Mishca’s place. It isn’t far, so I arrive ahead of her. I have a key, but can’t bring myself to do anything but sit there and cry with my head in my hands. I can’t believe I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I fell in love with a guy that ended up cheating on me. I can’t believe I put my heart out there and this is what happens.

Those damn wishes were the beginning of the end.
I know what Mishca told me about these things happening for a reason, but now… now nothing makes sense. I really started to think that everything that had happened was in order to lead me to Wes. Now, that feels foolish. All I know is that I thought he felt about me the way I felt about him. What a fool!

Mischa pulls up next to my car and immediately gets out running to mine.
She knocks on the window and I open the door, “Come on; let’s get you inside.”

Reaching into the passenger seat, I grab my purse,
and then pick up my phone. It immediately starts ringing in my hand. A picture I took of Wes and I at the park is on my screen, and I almost drop it from the pain our smiling image brings me. Mischa takes it from my hand, looks at the screen and presses the silent button. It immediately starts ringing again and she looks at me. “Just turn it off,” I whisper.

She does as I ask and places it into my purse for me.
Once we’re inside Mischa’s apartment, she helps me to the couch as though my tears make me incapable and I want to smack myself and knock this off, but the tears just keep coming. Without a word, Mischa goes to her kitchen to put water in the kettle for tea - a typical Mishca act. It warms me inside to be here with her, where I’m safe, loved, and feel at home. Her decorations are so similar to what she had in college that I can’t help but feel comfortable around it all.

She joins me back on the couch
. “Tell me everything.” So I do. She grabs Kleenex off her coffee table and hands them to me off and on while I continue with all the sordid details, and it doesn’t take long for a pile to start building.

“You didn’t actually see him kissing her or anything?”

“No, but why does that matter? She had barely any clothes on and Wes was shirtless.”

“What did he say?
Nothing at all?”

“No, he just stared at me with his mouth wide open and not uttering a freaking thing.”

“Nothing?”

“No, Mish.
Nothing. Not a word. Not a ‘please don’t go’, or ‘it isn’t what you think’ or ‘oh hey, sorry, you caught me about to screw this girl’. Nothing, Mischa. I know it was Arianna! It’s his ex-girlfriend, his first love. I know it’s over between us, but how could he just not say a word to me?”

I immediately start sobbing again and Mischa pulls me into her arms and strokes my hair trying to offer comfort.
When the teakettle whistles, she leaves me and brings back a cup of tea. “Here, drink this. It’s valerian root tea, it will help calm you.”

I don’t argue and take a few sips
, trying not to grimace at the different taste and to calm down. I look at her. “I love you, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to need the hard stuff.”

She sighs
. “Well, it was worth a try.” She takes my cup from me, leaves and comes back handing me the mug once more. I take a sip and the alcohol now inhabiting my cup, burns its way down my throat. I close my eyes in appreciation, just wanting the relaxation that I know drinking enough of this will guarantee.

We just sit in silence for a moment until I blurt, “I’m in love with him.”

“I know you are,” she whispers, as if her admitting it will make me feel worse.

“You do?”

“Of course. No one knows you better than I do,” she smiles. “I think I even knew before you did.”

“You’re probably right.”
I take another sip and confess, “I didn’t want to believe it myself but the thing is, I could have sworn he felt the same way. I mean, he went through a bad break up too and I never would have thought he would do something like this to me, especially since he knows what I went through with Jeffrey.”

“Well since that’s the case, then maybe you should consider hearing him out.
Something just doesn’t seem right, Aspen.”

“Maybe you’re right, but I’m not ready to talk to him yet.
I’m really hurt and angry.”

“Okay, well you don’t have to right now.”

“Can I stay here for a little while?”

“You can stay here as long as you want.”

I lie back on the couch and yawn. The crying combined with the alcohol has taken its toll. I close my eyes and wait for sleep to take me as Mischa continues to stroke my hair.

Mischa is shaking
me. “Hey, Apsen. Aspen, wake up.” I open my eyes and they feel huge in my face from being so swollen and dry. “I’m sorry to wake you up, but I have to go to the shop.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s ten o’clock in the morning.”

“Oh wow, I slept through the night
. I guess I was tired.”

“More like emotionally exhausted.
I’m sorry I have to leave you.”

“Don’t be.
I know the world doesn’t stop just because it feels like it stopped for me. I’m supposed to work at the bar today, but I’m not going in.”

She nods in understanding
. “I’ll call and check on you later, so turn your phone back on okay? Even though I know you don’t want to.”

“Okay I will, and don’t worry about me.
I will see you when you get back.”

“Alright
, but call me if you need anything.”

“I will.
Oh, is it okay if I borrow some clothes? I will go and get some things from the house when I know that Wes is at work.”

“Of course you can.
You don’t even have to ask.”

“Thanks.

She smiles and heads out the door.

I sit there for a few moments, until I realize I really need to use the restroom.
When I look in the mirror I’m horrified by how swollen my eyes really are - I look awful. Turning on the tap, I grab a washcloth from the cupboard, wet it with cool water and press it gently against my eyes, soothing them.

I should get in the shower but I just can’t find the energy, so I go to Mischa’s closet and pull out some clothes.
I grab a pair of sweats, a t-shirt, and some fuzzy socks. I pull my hair in a ponytail and go to her freezer knowing she’s sure to have some guys-are-assholes reinforcements. Disappointment fills me when I see she doesn’t have ice cream. How dare she. I check the fridge and root around and—yes—cookie dough! It’s the pity party food of champions.

Pouring myself a glass of milk, I take that as well as the cookie dough to the couch and flip on the TV.
The movie
Beaches
happens to be playing. I haven’t seen this movie in years. A couple hours later, as Mischa walks in the door, I’m a sobbing mess. I can only imagine how I look to her, empty cookie dough container, red eyes, Kleenex all over… I’m a mess.

“Oh my gosh, Aspen, what happened?”

“She died!!! I forgot that she died, how could I have forgotten? And her poor daughter, and oh my God, Mischa, promise me! You promise me right now we will be friends forever, okay? I can never lose you. You are my best friend, and I love you. I’m so sorry I don’t tell you more, but I do, I love you so much. We don’t need men, you and me. We can just be best friends, adopt children, and raise them together. All that matters is our friendship.”

“Have you been drinking?”
She picks up my glass of milk and sniffs it. I give her a puzzled look. What the hell does she think I would have put in a glass of milk? Gross.

“No, I have not been drinking,” I state indignantly
. “I just finished watching a movie ‘Beaches’.”

“Well
, that definitely explains it.”

“Why are you home already?
Not that I’m not glad you’re here. It’s like you knew I would need you here to hug after watching this movie.” I stand and lurch at her giving her a huge hug - feeling the need to make sure she knows I love her. Thank goodness for heartbreaking movies that remind us of our priorities. It occurs to me that I may be a freaking nut case right now.

“I’m home because I’ve been trying to call you for the last hour, but you still have your phone off I’m guessing?
I got nervous, and decided I should come and check on you since I had no other means of getting in contact.”

“I’m sorry I worried you, and no, I still haven’t turned it on.”

Mischa sighs and sits next to me. “You need to turn on your phone and answer your calls from Wes. Or at least listen to his voicemails.”

“Why the hell would you tell me to do that?
He is the last person I want to talk to. He’s a prick, Mischa. A fucking cheating prick.”

She winces at my profanity, but doesn’t comment.
“He came by the store today.”

“Oh
, did he? And apparently he’s given you some line of bullshit that you believe?”

“I don’t think it’s bullshit, sweets.
He looks like he is just as miserable as you are. He was desperate to talk to you and begged me to tell him where you were.”

“You didn’t-“

“No, I didn’t tell him anything.”

I gnaw on my bottom lip and chew on my fingernails.
I know I need to go to work even though I’d like to call off. It isn’t like I can just call off day after day to avoid seeing Wes. And I can’t allow him to make me stop working; I’m sure he still worked. And I also can’t afford to quit my job. I need the money. Especially now. I’m going to need to move out of Wes’s house in the not so distant future. Maybe I can have it arranged so that our schedules are different and I work with him as little as possible.

Getting up, I take my phone from my purse, and turn it on - not because I’m going to listen to anything.
But my curiosity is spiked. Chimes and dings announcing text messages and voicemails go off with crazy succession. Wes has blown up my phone. I make the mistake of glancing at a few text messages, “Kitten, we need to talk.” “Please call me.” “It wasn’t what you think, please call.” “I miss you.” “Please just text me the words, ‘ok’ to let me know you’re safe.” “Where are you?” “Please come home.”