Fixated (4 page)

My eyes fall on Nicole and something in my
chest tugs long and hard. Guilt. It eats at me ferociously. She
doesn’t deserve this. But it’s either her or me. Perhaps if she and
my mum played fair from the beginning, and informed me of the
wedding, we wouldn’t be in this situation!

There you go, Scarlett, rationalizing your
mistakes again.

I’m truly horrible. I turn to Drake,
overpowered by the need to scream, attack, or hit him. My emotions
draw to a standstill when the light bulb finally clicks in my head,
and I realize what emotion I was seeing in Drake earlier but
couldn’t identify.

Scorn.

He’s staring at me like a brutally scorned
lover. Beneath the burning sexual aura rolling off him and coating
my skin, every other emotion was negative. Anger. Hate.
Revenge.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. Is this
a fucking joke? Why would Drake Edgar be looking at me with scorn?
Hello? He ended it!

I decide I must have been mistaken, so I risk
another glance at him.

Oh, I was definitely not mistaken. Drake’s
glaring at me with murderous hurt and rage plastered over his face.
In fact, from the way he’s clenching his fist, I feel as if he’s
trying to stop himself from dashing across the room and choking me
to death. I understand the feeling. That’s always been our love, a
sick obsessive madness. I suddenly feel deflated from thinking
about the gravity of our feelings for each other.

There’s a brimming commotion in the room now.
The anxiety chokes the air out of my lungs. All eyes are on Drake,
Nicole, and me.

Should I feel happy that Drake is doing this?
I don’t know because I don’t. Maybe I feel relief, I don’t know.
All I know is that I want to be anywhere else but here. I stare at
Nicole and I’m hit with waves of what I can only think of as
selflessness. Because in that moment I forget about myself, my
happiness, and I turn to Drake and give him a clear fuck you
look.

I am suddenly angry with him. How dare the
bastard look at me like that? He broke up with me. He is the one
about to marry my sister. I have done nothing to deserve that look
from him. He wants to marry my sister; he can go the fuck
ahead.

We know each other too well. Because although
I just give him a look, he reads every thought and word I speak
internally.

He growls and takes a step towards me,
sending fiery heat through my body.

At that moment, the lights go out. Before I
can even blink, the air conditioning kicks on, and the deafening
sound of a fire alarm goes off.

The chaos is instant.

People jumping from their chairs. Glancing
around frantically for directions, explanations, anything.

Then Nicole staggers back, scrambling to
cover her mouth … Well, everyone seems to be hurrying to cover his
or her mouth and nostrils.

The extreme unpleasantness that hits my head
the instant I smell it is unlike anything else I’ve ever known.

A stink bomb. Unbelievable.

A gag settles at the back of my throat,
making me lightheaded and sick.

People are fainting, falling, and jumping
over each other.

The darkness mixed with the deafening fire
alarm, and rotting carcass saturating the room is the perfect
recipe for disaster. No one cares about thousand dollar dresses, or
exotic roses, and specially designed furniture. Everyone is too
busy screaming, vomiting.

The smell is intensely disgusting,
overpowering every sense organ. It must hit Nicole hard because she
howls, staggers, and then loses her balance.

Before she can reach the floor, Drake catches
her, sweeping her into his arms.

Avalanches of emotions attack my entire being
as I watch him carry her tenderly.

It’s then it hits me. Drake feels something
for her.

I know him; there’s no way he’s going to
marry a girl he doesn’t care for. God, the jealousy crushes me.
It’s not fair that Drake has someone he’s able to connect to in
that way. I know I’ll never find another man that I can connect to
in that way.

I watch the both of them as they leave.

Moments ago, they were fully prepared for
their wedding, a ceremony that would have bound them together, and
destroyed any bond he and I had together.

Drake knew this, but he was going to do it
anyway. Isn’t the writing on the wall clear enough for me?

Well, that’s the reason why I can’t feel any
relief that the wedding didn’t happen. It’s obvious. Just because
this ceremony didn’t go through, doesn’t mean it won’t happen at
another date.

Drake cared enough to want to commit to spend
the rest of his life with Nicole. Surely, my appearance or this
wedding not going through isn’t going to decimate all his
feelings.

I let regret drown me as I remember the
events that led to me leaving. Now, I wonder if I over reacted or
let my pride take control.

After all, considering what Drake found out
that night, he had every right to say those things to me. Sure, the
words cut and broke my soul. He was my best friend, boyfriend,
lover, brother, everything. For him to say those things to me, I
thought I was going to die. I felt worthless, and I knew I would
never find the courage to face him again.

Still, I wonder if I overdid it. I knew if I
left and cut him off the way I did it would hurt him deeply. I
wanted to do that at the time because of how badly he hurt me.

My grandmother was the only one I kept in
touch with, only one who knew my location and how to contact me.
She told me of Drake’s desperate attempts to find me. How he even
went as far as threatening her. He only stopped bothering her after
my grandmother fabricated events to look as if I had travelled to
Europe.

If I could go back, I think I would at least
try to hear what he had to say to me during that period. Would he
have apologized? I was just so angry and ashamed. When a lover or
that fundamental person in your life that helps you with your
self-esteem, insults and hurts you, even if you forgive them, it’s
never the same. Because every compliment they give you after that,
the negative words they said earlier overshadow everything. And
although drake never said it directly, he did insinuate that I
wasn’t good enough for him or his family.

How much can a girl take, I wonder. Maybe I
don’t regret everything. Maybe this is how it was meant to be.

That thought weakens me, kills my fight. The
fact that I’m relieved this disaster occurs makes me feel like the
devil. I feel worthless knowing I can’t even hope for anything with
him although he didn’t marry my sister. Everything in my life
suddenly feels so broken and worthless.

I just stand there, wanting the ground to
open and swallow me when someone grabs my arms and tugs me towards
the exit. The instant I’m outdoors and the blast of clean air
enters my system, the gag I’ve been holding down burst of my
mouth.

Crying, I fall on my knees and vomit
violently. Why? Why is this happening? I can feel it in the very
core of my soul that things are about to become insanely
complicated. This is about to become even more painful. Three is
always a crowd. Everyone knows this. One person has to lose. Why do
I have the distinctive feeling I would be the one losing?

The exotic lights from the indoor reception
tents are mesmerizing. They almost make you forget about the
catastrophe that occurred hours ago. Almost.

Everyone survived. Everyone is trying to act
as if everything is okay. I support this route; talking is always
the hardest part. Because then you have to force your brain to
think, analyze things. Never a good idea in these instances. So I
play my part. Speak when spoken to, smile when needed, gesture when
asked for. That's all I can do right now, because the only other
thing would be to start asking the questions that everyone is
thinking about right now.

Why did Drake not take those few steps to
take his bride's hand? What now? Are they married? If not, do they
plan to get married at a future date? If so, then where is Drake?
Why is Nicole the only one down here in a gorgeous dress with a
fake smile plastered on her lips as she basks in the feigned music
and joviality of the room? If everything is okay as my mum and
everyone else, is so desperately trying to portray then why is
Drake not down here?

These are all questions that I'm not sure I
want the answers too. I force my mind to focus on something else.
The food, furnishings, dresses, shoes. It's a dream reception,
exquisite and charming, every girl's fantasy.

When the dancing starts, the guests give it
their all.

Most of the guests from the wedding are still
around. They are mostly relatives and close knit friends that were
going to be spending the weekend at Cavil Place anyway.

I glance down at the set of keys to an
apartment in my right hand. My mum gave then to me not to long ago.
She wants me to stay here.

I can't fathom why. Everyone is already
murmuring that I somehow managed to sabotage the wedding- the fire
alarm and stink bomb, even though I was never alone.
Ridiculous.

Tears slip down my cheeks as I stare around
the empty table I was given far away from my other family members.
I feel discarded, unwanted. I don't know what to do but I can't be
here anymore.

I grab my purse and slip out of the party
unnoticed. Abundance of lush landscapes and cascades of waterfalls
surround me, the cool early evening air feels amazing to my senses.
This estate is currently one of the biggest in the state of
Connecticut. There are several dozen living homes, ranging from the
main building where my family stays to blocks of two story
buildings to single stand units, all around the vast estate.

The apartment my mum chose for me is far from
the main residence, but I don’t mind. I don’t want to be where I’m
not wanted anyway.

I walk as fast as I can along the lake,
curving through the trees with expertise that betrays my love for
the place. It's a gorgeous green planet down here, and Cavil estate
is as grand inside as it is outside at night. My family has owned
this property for a while, which is why I was very surprised to
learn that Drake now owns it. Obviously, someone has been doing
very well for himself.

It seems while I was away, struggling to
survive from day to day, he was acquiring more billions and
properties and … well, he became engaged. How unfair life can
be.

The wind continues howling, whipping my hair
around my face so furiously that I wish I put my waist length
chestnut hair in a ponytail.

Soon, I sight the one-story building hidden
behind a line of trees. Even through the blanket of fog that has
swept down from the skies, the building's bronze roofing is still
magnificent.

I come to a stop, shocked about how much the
building reminds me of the houses in Evanston. A place I’d made my
home. I missed it in a strange way.

What are you still doing here, Scarlett?

I've asked myself that question repeatedly in
the hours that have passed since the wedding disaster. I know the
answer to the question, but I can't bring myself to say it
aloud.

Drake.

I've always known he would be the end of me.
Since we were teenagers who did nothing but fight and insult each
other every chance we got.

I remember our first meeting as if it was
yesterday.

Our parents had forced us to attend was some
pretentious dinner about the combining of Protestant and Anglican
churches or something ridiculous in that manner.

I stood by the window, pressing my forehead
against the cool glass, wishing I were anywhere else but there.
Because in my mind, all I saw was a bunch of rich people gathered
together to talk about ways to spend their money. Anything to make
themselves feel better for their ridiculous wealth. I just couldn't
find it in me to take any of the women there seriously. Especially
my mother, who knew what happened between her husband and me almost
every night by that time, and chose to turn a blind eye to it. But
oh she was so concerned that two kinds of churches wanted to merge
into one? Ridiculous.

I was sixteen, and going through the worst
time of my life. Drake was nineteen, a new import from Europe
thrust into the elitist lives of wealthy Americans. And by some
unseen twist of faith, he saved me from the dark path I was heading
to. He fixed me.

"I’ll be able to bring myself to say you are
the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. If you didn't frown so
much," he said in his signature deep voice.

Wow. What nineteen year old talks like that?
Of course, now it sounds romantic to me, but back then, although I
felt warm and fuzzy inside from his presence, my first thought was
Russian Freak! My reply? "Ugh! Fuck off."

He smiled then, folded his arms across his
chest, and came to stand beside me. "Hmm, well, what do we have
here? This should be interesting." He gave me a heart stopping
crooked smile, and moved closer so we were standing side by side.
Then he purposely let his shoulder brush against mine and
winked.

I shivered, unable to shake away the feeling
that I just met my partner in crime in this lifetime. I didn’t know
how true that would turn out to be.

I remember swooning hard, but I was too
stubborn to show it. He was the new freak amongst our circle back
then; everyone wanted a piece of him. I didn't want to be everyone.
Therefore, from the moment I saw those startling sea-green eyes, I
had been unconsciously avoiding him.

From the beginning, we both felt our
maddening attraction to each other, but we were too stubborn. I
wanted him to confess his feelings first, he wanted me to go first.
We were stuck in the ‘friends’ stage for a while, but then after we
would go into bouts of rage just from seeing the other person
talking to the opposite sex, it changed to ‘friends with
benefits’.