The Arrangement Anthology 2(171)

“It is far too early in the day to have to deal with those annoying toys.”

It’s Constance. Sean remains frozen in place. He replies, “Mother, where are you?”

Just as she is about to reply, a deafening sound comes from the back of the mansion. The unmistakable sound of glass exploding and landing on cement fills our ears. A few moments later, a second explosion rocks the mansion, crumbling the walls outside of Sean’s rooms. The area we were just in a few minutes ago is engulfed in smoke. Shrapnel is flying everywhere, as wood splinters and metal torques. There’s a third blast and the front door explodes outward.

Sean and I stare unable to move, wide-eyed. We both heard it, we both know—Constance is still inside.





THE ARRANGEMENT 19




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SNEAK PEEK




LIFE BEFORE DAMAGED

Vol. 1





THE PRESENT

~PETER~



Sidney nervously twists her engagement ring on her finger and looks up at me. In that soft voice, the one she uses when she’s worried, she asks, “What’d you find?”

The pit of my stomach has been in freefall all day, ever since I opened that last box. It was hers—Gina’s. After everything we went through, I never realized Gina kept a journal, an account of everything, including vivid descriptions of the man I once was. Sidney knows about my reputation, but what was printed in the tabloids and what’s written in these diaries are two very different stories.

It’s strange being in love again. I thought I’d die alone. After I lost Gina, I had no aspirations, no hope. Then Sidney changed my life. Holding these books makes me feel my old self, still there, buried deep within. All the rage, the fights, the never-ending line of women who would do anything to fuck me—in these pages, the memories are vivid. As each remembered moment blurs by, I feel the impact, the void of who I was screaming out from deep within. But that period of my life is over, lost to the past, and I force the echoes of who I was to be quiet once more.

Truth be told, I don’t miss that life, but I worry about what will happen when Sidney discovers who I was, what I was. Sidney thinks the best of me. She sees me as the English professor, the poet. But deep within, I’m not him. This part of my past lurks within me still. It reared its ugly head when Sidney’s ex tried to hurt her. I made him pay for that. My violence was justified, but it doesn’t matter. At the end of the day—even though I changed my name—I’m still Pete Ferro.

Glancing at the journals in my hands, I make the choice. She needs to know. If Sidney is marrying me, she needs to see the good and the bad. Reading it from a tabloid isn’t enough. Swallowing hard, I cross the room clutching the books tightly.

I look around the little house Sean gave us, thinking, yet again, how perfect it is—right down to the custom made perch for Mr. Turkey. Sean acts so stoic that I think he doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything, then he does something like this. I can’t figure him out. When I see Sean and think of his life, I wonder how similar we really are; I wonder if the only reason that I’m different is because I pretend to be.

Is that all it takes to change? Maybe I’m not different after all, maybe I just want to be. A different last name, a different life—one that isn’t etched with scars and faded dreams. When I look at Sidney I feel alive again. The ghost of who I was disappears and I’m real—every wish, every dream able to come true and it’s all because of her. Showing these journals to her could destroy us, but hearing the truth about me from someone else would be so much worse. I won’t take that chance.

Sidney is sitting on the bed, solemnly waiting for me to speak, as if she can sense the weight on my soul. I’d thought my soul was irretrievably lost until Sidney sat down at my table and flashed that beautiful smile. Thank God for her.

“Sidney?” Although I try, I can’t hide my feelings from her, I never could.

“Peter, what is it?”

I sit down facing her, making the bed dip beneath my weight, and place the books on the comforter between us. “While I was going through my old things, I found these—they’re Gina’s journals.” My voice catches and I look everywhere except at Sidney. Sucking in air, I push through. I need to say this before the hole in my chest consumes me. It’s growing, adding pressure that wasn’t there a moment ago. It scolds me, urging silence.

She won’t understand, a voice says in the back of my mind. It latches onto times that I tried to tell the truth and it bit me on the ass. Ice forms, freezing my skin from the inside out, until I shiver.