Shallow River

WE’VE BEEN SITTING HERE for hours, talking about everything and nothing, all except for the obvious elephant in the room.

Ryan’s going to kill me. I’ve avoided looking at the time but based off the angle of the sun through the windows, it’s going to set in a couple hours. Which means Ryan is home by now.

He’s already texted me thirteen times and called six, but the oppositional side of me is too pissed at him to care. Maybe I need to show more anger? Maybe he takes advantage of me because I’m weak to him. Maybe if I’m stronger, he’ll start treating me like it.

What’s that saying? If you want to be treated like an adult, then act like one. If I want to be treated like a strong woman, then I should act like one. I pick up my phone and skim the increasingly angry messages, asking where I am.

Delete.

Ryan can go fuck himself. I was wrong for dressing like that, but he was wrong for pushing me down. Right?

I tuck my phone in my pocket, and turn towards my boyfriend’s brother. “So, Mr. I-know-what-a-relationship-should-look-like, if you’re so much better than Ryan, why are you single?” I don’t actually know if he’s single. I shouldn’t care, but I find myself fishing anyway.

He gives me a droll look but relents and shrugs a shoulder. “I’ve been in a few long-term relationships with women. They didn’t work out,” he answers cryptically.

“Why?” I challenge.

A smile quirks on my face. He thinks I care. I don’t. But I still wait for a response.

Another shrug. “Wasn’t happy. Going different directions in life or wanted different things. Different reasons.”

“Were you in love with any of them?”

“Yes and no. I had immense love for them, and what I felt for them was real, but I don’t think I was truly in love with any of them, no. Not the way you should be when in a relationship. Not the way I wanted to be.”

I frown. “The way you wanted?” I question.

“I want a love like my parents. Like my partner’s. With my exes, it always felt like something was missing. That’s not true love in my eyes.”

I hum, mulling his response over. Am I in love with Ryan like that? Yes, I believe so. Do I feel like anything is missing?

Sometimes.

“So, what age did you f

inally get out of Shallow Hill?” Mako asks, drawing me away from my thoughts.

I sigh and thump my head against the wall behind me. “Eighteen, when I moved into the college dorms. By then, I had the ability to buy out Barbie’s house. Not that it really cost me much. The loan was paid off a year ago.”

He flashes me a sardonic look. “I still think it’s interesting you bought the house.”

I shrug a shoulder. “I finally have something over her. I grew up under her shitty roof for eighteen years, was forced to deal with everything that came my way because of her shitty life choices, and that was my way of getting back. Now it’s my shitty roof.”

“Couldn’t she easily find a place to shack up in, though?”

A laugh bursts out of me. “She could, yeah. But no one will let her stay for more than a night, if that. She was lucky she found places to go when the house first foreclosed. Everyone knows she answers to Billy. They’ll let her around long enough to fuck her, but Barbie knows too many things. No one wants to keep her around long enough for Barbie to discover their dirty secrets.”

I had told him about Billy, and that he was a bad guy, but I didn’t mention exactly who he was and how bad he is. Billy isn’t his real name. I’m not even sure what his real name is, to be honest. I suppose I never cared enough to ask.

“Couldn’t she stay with Billy?”

“Barbie’s too scared of him. Besides, Billy would never let Barbie live with him. He’d probably kill her after one night.”

Sadly, I feel nothing at that prospect. If Barbie died, I’d probably sigh in relief. I don’t think I ever felt anything more for Barbie than contempt. Even as a child, it took me only until I was three or four years old to realize Barbie didn’t love me. Nor does she give a fuck about me.

And I think I’ve always kept myself pretty unattached. By then, her clients were already having their fun with my body and she ignored it. Any time I complained, I was being dramatic. Told that it’s a good thing I’m learning young because that’s all I’ll amount to in life. Sucking dirty cock and getting flopped on like a fish would be a great skill to add to my resume.

“Aren’t you technically keeping Barbie in your life that way? Why not let the house foreclose and put her on the streets?”