I looked over the people with their hands in the air, only seeing blurs since the light reflected, blinding me. It was surreal, being on a stage where I could show them my love for music.
“Come here,” Dox cajoled, waving me forward. I finally did and he pulled me to his side. “Ready to sing your lungs out?” he asked only to me, not into the mic. I nodded, the frenzied energy coming to me in waves. This was what I wanted for so long.
Tears sprang to my eyes as I thought of that night. Madden had been at home, sick, and his mom wouldn’t let him do this tour. It wasn’t long. Just a three-week one in Australia and New Zealand. It changed my life.
“I almost forgot about that,” I responded to Royce. He smiled sadly at me as if the memories would never leave, and somehow, he felt it deeper than me.
I wiped away the emotion, needing to breathe without the stress of caring. “We’re here,” he announced, pulling into the underground garage.
Sometimes, I saw this place and missed how simple life was before a few months ago. Then I think of all Madden and I experienced, and felt something more.
Here, back at home, the weight of our secrets slowly suffocated me. I’d asphyxiate on my lies soon enough. If coming home told me anything, it was that lies traveled wherever you went and when you felt comfortable, they came for your happiness.
“Thanks for... everything, Roy.” He made a face at the nickname he never liked but then smiled, shrugging.
“It’s been easy. Caring for you two has become more than a job. It had years ago,” he mentioned, a sadness enveloping his expression.
I jumped out of the car then, not knowing how to respond. Emotions and me, we didn’t get along, especially after mine being run ragged by Madden.
Practically booking it to my apartment, I felt unease the closer I got. The elevator dinged with every floor, almost like a timer ticking down to my end.
The feeling didn’t leave, even as the doors opened. But what I wasn’t prepared for was who stood at my door, waiting for me.
Brandon.
He looked me over, his face expressionless but the tick in his jaw gave way to the anger sitting there. It was warranted, him being upset. Why wouldn’t he be? I left him the day before our wedding, embarrassing him in front of his family and our friends.
I fucked up and it wasn’t something I could just make disappear.
Unbeknownst to Madden, every time Brandon emailed me, I responded. I felt bad. I’d up and left, and while ghosting him and not ever coming back sounded nice, Brandon wasn’t one to give up. Not even a month later.
“You’re back,” he surmised. I wanted to scoff, roll my eyes a little. Obviously, he knew that. We were standing here, after all.
I was sure Royce would be back later with my stuff since I left it with Madden. Maybe subconsciously, I needed a reason to be with him once we got home.
“Yeah, just flew in,” I nearly croaked, hearing the troublesome fears leaking from the words. What did I say to the man I planned on spending forever with? I’m sorry I fucked my nephew and left to be with him? Yeah, that wouldn't bode well.
“Can we talk?” The only emotive response he showed was the rise of his eyebrows. He looked much different now. His dark hair in disarray, and his shirt untucked. Brandon wore a suit most times, even while off work. Right now, he wore a button-up and jeans, something I’d rarely see him in.
It seemed so normal.
Human.
In the years we dated, he never seemed to soften to me. Not even to wear normal clothes regularly. It hurt at first because I clung to this reality of wanting a partner while also wanting something forbidden too.
I nodded at him, going for my door. He didn’t touch me, but I felt his presence at my back, hovering, like he wanted to embrace me but refused.
It was more feeling he gave me than during sex or cuddling. Brandon was easy, too perfect, but not for me. He still wasn’t. Standing right behind me, it became more apparent.
I didn’t feel the need to hug him, give him comfort, I simply wanted him gone. Which saddened me to no end. How did we get here? How could I do this?
Cheating was something I refused to do. I’d been cheated on too many times to become the aggressor, but that was what I was becoming. I cheated on Brandon before I left for England, and it didn’t stop with the words and touches. I catapulted myself into Madden, sucked him up, absorbing everything he offered.
I shouldn’t have.
However, the remorse I felt was only because Brandon didn’t deserve what I did.
When we entered, Brandon shut and locked the door behind us. Unsettled, that was how that action made me feel. Not because I didn’t trust him but a result of promising Madden to have nothing to do with Brandon.
I broke so many promises to Madden.
Especially this one.
“Where’d you go?”
I shut my eyes, not knowing how to say I went on tour with Madden. “Vacation,” I lied, flinching only slightly. He worked his jaw, brushing his hand across it as if it’d calm him down.
He might seem collected; it was how lawyers appeared at all times. But his micro-expressions along with his light eyes told me he felt anything but calm.
There was a burning in his irises, one that reminded me of hatred mixed with betrayal. They weren’t hard to see but it tasted bitter regardless.
“I find it hilarious that even now, you’re lying to me.”
“What do you mean?”
He narrowed his eyes, grinding his teeth before opening and closing his mouth as a response to my lies. “You were with him,” he spit, allowing his disgust to reign over him.
Now it was my turn to move from foot to foot, trying to come up with something he’d accept, knowing there was no excuse.
“What do you want me to say?” I asked, seeking what he needed from me. It wasn’t easy loving someone who didn’t love you back, no matter how hard you tried.
“Did you fuck him?” I flinched at the word, reeling. He knew Madden wasn’t just my nephew by the way his spine straightened and his shoulders seemed hunched.
Respond. The little voice in my head chastised me, standing here like a fucking deer in the headlights. “You did, didn’t you?” He made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat like he couldn’t believe it.
“He’s your fucking nephew,” he bit out. His face hardened and he rubbed a palm over it, stepping closer to me. I couldn’t help my gut reaction to backtrack. If he noticed, he didn’t show it, continuing his slow steps.
“What does he have that I don’t?”
I didn’t want to be mean, crass, or pushy, but I wanted to tell him everything. Once upon a time, maybe I would have. Seeing the wounded man in front of me trying to keep his cool wasn’t a motivator.
I hurt him.
I left him.
I fucked him over.
Not the other way around.
“Brandon,” I started, my chest aching. It didn’t hurt because I wanted him back or felt even a smidgen of regret. It hurt because no one deserved this.
“Don’t do that, Andy. Don’t give me those sad eyes and tell me that it wasn’t planned.”
“What are you talking about?” I bristled.
“I heard you guys. That night.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. My face flamed, the heat hitting me, making me feel the worst kind of shame known to man.