A couple blocks down, I crank up the radio and play loud, upbeat music. Then I roll down the windows and let the wind pelt my skin and whip my hair. Minutes later, I no longer smell the salty beach air and am hit with the occasional scent of fast food or well water. But right now, I would rather smell the foul odor of greasy meat and sulfur than the beach.
Because no matter how much time passes, the sight, smell and feel of the beach will always remind me of Gavin. Always.
After weaving down a couple streets, I park my car in front of Shelly’s apartment building. As I get out of the car, I spot Shelly running down the stairs and heading in my direction. She slams into me and wraps her arms around me, squeezing me with boa constrictor strength. And I don’t pry her off me. I simply cry into her shoulder. Soaking her hair and shirt. Couldn’t tell you if anyone passed by us. I honestly don’t give a damn.
We stand like this for a while before she breaks the hug. “Come on, let’s go inside.”
I don’t say a word, stumbling beside her with my arm hooked in hers. She guides us inside, takes my keys and purse and sets them on the coffee table. We plop down on the couch and she hugs me close again, stroking my hair. She lets me cry and sob until my body can no longer do either anymore. Shelly knows exactly what I need and doesn’t bother trying to ask more questions. Not yet, anyway.
When my sobs recede, Shelly assumes I have reach
ed the max quota for tears in one day. She leans away from me and ducks her head to look me in the eyes. “You want to talk about it?”
And for the first time since I arrived, our eyes finally meet and hold. Her expression a heaping pile of concern as she regards me. My eyes feel ten times bigger than normal and sting from crying for the last hour straight. No doubt they are bloodshot and lifeless.
Lifeless. Exactly how I feel right now.
“It’s Gavin,” I say as I stare at my fumbling hands in my lap. If I look back up and see sadness in Shelly’s eyes, I will lose it again. And I am so tired of crying. So very tired. It hurts too fucking much.
Shelly rubs my back with gentle, endearing strokes. “What about Gavin?”
I swallow, not wanting to speak about the fiasco that happened tonight, but knowing full well I need to get it off my chest. To tell someone. To get insight from someone I trust.
Gavin told me none of it was true. That they were only friends. But if they were only friends and not actually engaged, why would he hide all of it from me? He never mentioned her as being one of his friends. Or a fellow model. Actually, he hasn’t mentioned anyone he knows in California aside from his mom. And something about that doesn’t sit well with me.
Does he not want me to know about his life the last thirteen years? Does he have something to hide?
Inhaling deeply, I prepare to recant the evening before I called. Deep breaths, Cora. You need to let it all out.
“Gavin and I went back to his hotel after spending the day together. He invited me up to his room and I obliged. Everything was good. Perfect, actually. We cuddled on the couch and started watching Netflix. Halfway through the show, someone knocked on the door. We were both confused by it, but Gavin said it was probably someone at the wrong room and he’d send them away.”
I stop talking. Stare at my fumbling fingers in my lap. Pick at a loose thread along the hem of my shirt. Bite the inside of my cheek and try my best not to start crying. Again.
If what Gavin said was true, why is this so hard to say? Why is it so hard for me to believe? To believe he is telling me nothing except the truth. Once upon a time, I never doubted a single word Gavin spoke. So, why do I doubt him now?
And although the answer lingers at the edge of my thoughts, I don’t dare voice it. Not now. Not yet.
“Take your time, Cora. Do you want some water?”
I nod as I wring my shirt between my hands. She returns seconds later and hands me a glass. I drink the water and thank her. After I place the glass on the table, I rip the bandage from the wound in my chest and continue.
“When Gavin didn’t come right back to the couch, I wondered who was at the door and what was taking so long. I headed for the door and heard him arguing with a woman. At first, I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but could tell they knew each other. For a moment, I thought maybe it was his agent. When I was close enough to hear them talking, I heard Gavin tell the woman he was planning to move back to Florida. At that point, I knew it wasn’t his agent because they’d already discussed him moving back. The woman seemed pissed and asked what was so great about being here. Just as she asked him, she caught sight of me.”
Shelly gasps and slaps a hand over her mouth as her eyes widen. And suddenly, it seems I don’t need to tell her what happens next, because she already knows. She may not know the pertinent details, but she has a vague idea. And I plan to tell her everything. To get it all off my chest. I need to. Because bottling this up will kill me.
“The second her eyes landed on me; an evil smile lit up her face. Like she knew who I was. Like what would happen next would hurt me and Gavin, but she didn’t give a shit. Anyway, after she saw me, she became sweet and formal. She introduced herself—”
“What’s her name?” Shelly interrupts.
“Layla.”
For a minute, Shelly lifts her eyes to the ceiling and studies the popcorn as if it is art. She searches her memory bank for anyone with the name Layla. But her search will yield no results. Because if Gavin didn’t mention her to me, I am positive he didn’t mention her to anyone else. Not even Micah. Why would he?
“Don’t know her,” Shelly confirms.
“Me either. She’s one of his California friends. After she introduced herself, she asked who I was. Seconds after, Gavin tried to make her leave. More than once. But she was insistent on staying and butting in. After no one spoke for a moment, she smiled big again and tells me she’s Gavin’s fiancée.”
Shelly’s jaw drops to the floor as she stares at me. As her mouth closes, she narrows her eyes. “I’m sorry, what? I must have misheard you. Did you just say this bitch is his fiancée?”