Illusions Complete Series (55 page)

I merely stood there, my arms crossed. “Repeat yourself. Repeat yourself, goddamn it. Repeat yourself.”

He looked at me with those green eyes, and I saw more pain in those eyes than I had ever seen. I was scared about the amount of pain that were in the depths of those eyes. He shook his head. “She came over when you were gone. I hadn't slept at all for five days, and I was also completely jet-lagged. All I did was haunt the streets, all night long, looking for you, asking everybody I saw about you. Night and day, night and day, that's all I did while you were gone.”

I clenched my jaw, not liking where this was going. “Go on.”

“She came over to help me out. Nick told her what had happened, that you were missing, so she hopped a plane. She hopped a plane, and came into the house after I hadn't slept for five days. Not one wink. Wasn't hardly eating, either. And I was so desperate to find you. So desperate to see you. And I hit my head hard, on the edge of the bathtub. I started to hallucinate – I saw my dad by the bed, with a blue head and orange body. I spoke to him.”

I raised an eyebrow. I saw my fist was clenched, and I knew that I was two seconds from hauling off and hitting him.

“She came in the door, and, I swear to god, I thought that she was you. My mind was so desperate to see you, and I only thought of you, so when she came in, I was obviously hallucinating that it was you.”

My fist was still clenched, waiting for the ending to this story.

He got up, and started pacing the floor, rapidly. “I thought she was you. I was so happy. God, I was so happy. I was so terrified while you were gone. I knew that there was something wrong, something terribly wrong. I knew that you were in trouble, so when she came in, I never felt such happiness and relief.”

“Go ahead. Go ahead and tell me that you fucked her thinking she was me. Go ahead and tell me that. See how far you get with that fucking story. See how far.”

He said nothing, just stopped pacing and looked at me.

At that, I walked up to him and pummeled him with my fist. It hurt like hell, because his body was still so hard, and it was like hitting steel. But I kept pummeling him, on and on and on, and he just stood there, not even trying to protect or shield himself. It was as if he thought that he deserved it, so he wasn't going to stop me.

While I was hitting him, I was screaming “You fucked her. You fucked that whore while I was missing. You bastard. You bastard. You bastard. You fucking goddamned worthless bastard. You fucked her, and I was raped because of you. How could you do that? How could you do that? You fucking ruined my life, then didn't even care enough about me not to fuck her while I was in a shithouse getting high, trying to forget about a rape that happened BECAUSE OF YOU. I hate you. I can't stand the sight of you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

There were tears streaming down his cheeks, but he wasn't making a sound. He just took my fists and my words, and, when I was worn out, and collapsed on the floor, he sat down next to me, and put his arm around my back.

“I'm so sorry,” he said.

“You know what, fuck you!” I apparently wasn't done with my rage.

Then I was sobbing, my body pouring out more rage and grief. The rage and grief seemed to come from endless sources. Some before I met him, most after I met him. I thought that I had recovered from the rage and grief about the intrusive news stories, the Rochelle attack, the rape, Mr. Green. I thought that my stay at the hospital had helped me process all of that, yet this latest thing was literally the last straw, and it reactivated all of it.

All of it.

I was back to square one.

I was vaguely aware that Ryan was literally covering me with his body, and he stayed silent while I sobbed. Then I said “a bucket, I need a bucket, now.” There was a baby inside me now, too, but now I really wouldn't tell him about that. He dashed into the kitchen, and brought me a bucket, and I vomited everything that I had eaten that morning. I heaved long after there was nothing less to vomit, dry heaving into the bucket while sobbing.

At some point, I just laid down on the floor. There was nothing left. No more tears, no more puke, no more rage. There was just...nothing.

I had no more feelings.

“Iris,” Ryan was saying. He hadn't said a word for hours while I raged about. “I love you more than I could ever love anybody. You're my soul mate. My other half.”

“Do I complete you?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Am I the sunshine of your life?”

“Yes.”

“Got any other clichés you can bring out? How about telling me that it's always darkest before the dawn? Or, I know a good one – what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.” I shook my head. “I should be fucking Hercules by now.” Then I smiled. “not literally fucking Hercules, but you get the idea.”

He chuckled too, thinking that the worst was over. “We'll get through this.”

“Like hell, we will.”

Then he looked devastated. He obviously had some hope that because I made a little joke that I was ready to let bygones be bygones.

He couldn't be more wrong.

At that, I whipped out my iPhone and called Richard. “Hey. You know how you wanted to rent out that room?”

“Yes.”

“I'll be over in fifteen minutes.” Then I thought better. “Sorry, could you pick me up? I don't have a car.”

“What do you mean? You have that Volvo. And are you saying that you want to move in?”

“I don't have a car,” I repeated. “That car doesn't belong to me anymore,” I said, looking Ryan right in the eye.

“What do you mean?”

“I'm leaving Ryan.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

After I made that phone call, I went upstairs to pack. This was a familiar scenario, as I packed up the cat and a bag while Ryan stood in the doorway, pleading with me.

“Don't go, don't go, don't go, please don't go. I love you, I can't live without you.”

“You can live without me. You got Natalie now. She'll take real good care of you. You were the one that she has always wanted, anyhow. And now she has her wish. I sure feel sorry for Nate, though.”

“I don't love her. I love you. I have always loved you. I knew it from the second I saw you that you were meant for me. Please don't go.”

“You already said that. Think of something new. It's sounding like your greatest hits now,” I said. “Please don't go, please don't go. I love you. You're my soul mate,” I said in a mocking voice. “Is that really all you got?”

He just said nothing, but continued to plead with me with his eyes.

I looked out the window. Richard had just pulled up in the driveway.

“Well, it looks like I'll be off,” I said. “There are still a lot of clothes and shoes here, and stuff. You can let Natalie have those. I mean, she’s taller than me, but she can wear some of my blouses at least. Not sure about her shoe size. At any rate, whatever she doesn’t want, please give to the Goodwill.”

Then I remembered something else. I took off my red diamond and my wedding band, and put it on the windowsill “Here. I don't need a thing from you. You can also give these to Natalie. She'll appreciate them one helluva more than I will.”

Then I ran down the stairs and into Richard's waiting car.

Chapter Thirty-Five

In the car, Richard asked “Doll, do you want to tell me what happened?”

I just shook my head, and stared out the window.

My iPhone was blowing up. Ryan was calling me every minute it seemed.

I finally just turned it off.

We got to Richard's house, which was a four bedroom home in a nicer area of town. It was a newer area, with spindly trees and not much shade cover. The house was colonial style, with a small veranda, and a staircase that was just inside the front door. Richard lived there with his partner, Mark, and the place had the definite air of a gay man's taste – immaculate, tasteful, with perfectly matched furniture, embroidered throw pillows, and large indoor trees.

“Uh, I hate to say this, but I might be short the first month. I have to find a job,” I said, upon getting into the house and putting my bags down by the front stairs.

“Doll, you have a megabucks husband. How can you be short?”

“Had a megabucks husband. Had one. Every penny that he has is his own, not mine. I did nothing to earn any of it.”

“That's not how it works,” he said.

“That's how it works with me,” I told him. “So, I have to find a job. Thanks to him, I am no longer financially independent.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I lost my law practice because of that psychobitch from hell attacking me. Or did you forget about that?”

“Doll, you weren't financially independent before you met him.”

“Thanks for rubbing it in.”

“You know what I mean.”

“How much is the rent here?” I asked.

“$400.”

I scratched my head. “I can swing that. I wonder if Whole Foods is hiring?”

“Whole Foods? With your education, you want to work there?”

“Yeah. Why not? It always looks like fun, and the people there are so cool.”

“Doll, you aren't in your right mind.”

“I'll be ok making whatever Whole Foods pays. At least until the baby comes.”             

“Baby?”

“Yeah. I took a pregnancy test this morning, and it was positive. Ain't that the shits?”

His eyes were wide. “Are we....happy about it?”

“No. Considering that the father is either dumb or dumber, and I have no idea which one,” I said, shrugging. “Let's just say that it's not the ideal situation. Then again, I have no idea if I'm going to even keep it.” At that, I tapped on my iPhone, looking at my personal bank account. It's probably either a negative balance, or had been closed because the balance was too low. I probably had to open up a new one.

“Mother fucker!” I yelled after logging on to the site.

“What?”

“That asshole put a million fucking dollars into my personal account. How in the hell did he transfer that amount of money this fast?”

“Megabucks boys can do whatever they want these days,” he said. “What an asshole, huh? How dare he make sure that you're taken care of, especially when you're carrying his child?”

“Number one, he doesn't know about the kid. Number two, I told you, I don't know if that baby is his.”

“You said that, but I didn't know what you meant. What do you mean that the baby could have either dumb or dumber as its father?”

“Oh, I didn't tell you about that. I was raped. Brutally raped,” I said, taking secret delight in the look of horror on Richard's face. “Vag raped, ass raped. He used a belt to strangle me until I was at the point of passing out, then he raped me. He forced me on all fours like a dog along the floor by pulling at the belt like it was a leash, then he handcuffed me to the barstool and raped me some more.” I felt myself smirking. “So you see, he is dumber, and Ryan is dumb. Ryan and I made love about a week before the rape, so I literally have no idea who is the lucky sperm donor.”

“Oh, doll,” he said, putting his hand on my shoulder. “I don't know what to say.”

“I do. How about congratulations! It's not every day that you get to carry around a rapist's baby.”

He just stood there, looking at me mutely.

“And the kicker is,” I said, suddenly laughing so hard that I couldn't speak. Richard started to laugh along with me, obviously not sure what was so funny. “Ah, the kicker is that, get this. There's another baby!”

“What do you mean?”

“Ryan impregnated another woman while I was living in a drug house trying to forget dumber's rape.”

“You lived in a drug house?”

“Try to keep up. I went cuckoo for cocoa puffs and shot up my veins for a couple of weeks before Mr. White Knight came riding in on the cavalry to rescue me again. He should've just left me there. Anyhow, he neglected to tell me that he fucked another woman while I was gone. That would've been nice to know.” I continued to laugh, but Richard was no longer trying to laugh along with me. “Boy, I tell ya. My life...I really should write a book. A memoir. Nobody would ever believe it, though. Could you imagine? Average girl meets gorgeous rich guy, and her life becomes a never-ending nightmare from then on. Dystopian Cinderella, indeed.”

“Doll, you aren't making sense.”

“No, I'm making perfect sense. You just have to listen to me and know that I'm not joking about any of this.”

“I know you're not joking about this. What can I do to help you?”

“I'm not sure. I have to buy a car, but my credit is shot. So, if you could let me borrow your car if I need it, just a few times, that would certainly help. At least until I can earn enough for a down-payment. I'm thinking maybe I could try my hand at some free-lance writing projects, so I don't have to have a car for work. Then, once I earn enough from the writing projects, I can buy my own car,” I said, ignoring the increasingly incredulous look on Richard's face. “At any rate, I'll need a car for going to the store and either a clinic or a baby doc. It depends on what I decide to do.”

“Doll,” he said. “You're account has -”

“No, it doesn't. I'm opening up a new account. Fuck him and his money. If I could transfer it back right this second, I would.”

That night, I tossed and turned. How far along was I now? In my first trimester, at any rate. And with the drugs that I was doing, and the fact that I hadn't even thought about nutrition or pre-natal vitamins, the baby was liable to come out with three heads. And I was going to be a single mother now, with little visible means of support. So, I better not be selfish and work a minimum wage job.

On and on I tossed and turned, willing myself not to think about my overall situation and just to think about the baby. Baby Dalilah. Baby Dalilah with the three heads. Baby Dalilah who might have rapist's genes. Or she might have Ryan's genes, in which case she would be a lucky girl indeed. As long as she doesn't get stupid and sleep with some other dude while married, she would be fine. She can even be bisexual. That would be fine, too.

Just as long as she's not a cheater.

That week, there were different things coming through the front door. First, there were 120 red roses, in ten vases, with cards attached to each of the vases. One said “I'm sorry if this sounds cliché, but I can't live without you.”Another said “I'm bleeding from a thousand tiny cuts here.”Still another said “Please come home.”Another said “The bed’s too big without you.” All of the cards had similar sentiments – sweet, but cliché. Then again, it was difficult to express sentiments that weren’t cliché, so I gave him a pass for this.