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The Arrangement Anthology 2(61)

By:H.M. Ward


“They’re in the bathroom. Through that door.” I jab my thumb in the right direction and Sean disappears into the tiny room. I hear the water turn on. He doesn’t invite me in.

I lay in the box, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I should ask him the questions floating through my mind. I don’t feel like moving. Actually, I want to cry. Why did I let him do this to me? I liked it at first, but not this time. What was different? I don’t understand, but I need to know.





CHAPTER 11




I push up and brush off the foam, before padding into the bathroom. The little room is filled with steam. Sean is standing silently in the shower with his head down and the water beating over his neck. I can see his outline when I walk in. He doesn’t move or look over at me.

I make sure the doors are locked and pull open the curtain. He won’t meet my gaze. “Sean?”

“I shouldn’t have done that.” His voice is level, even. There’s no hint of remorse even though his words were an apology. He’s shutting down, and locking me out. I won’t know what’s going on inside his head if I don’t jump in now. It might already be too late.

I don’t know what to say so I start talking. “You don’t have to fix everything by yourself. We made a mistake.”

This makes him glance up at me. The water runs down his cheeks and shoulders. There’s no expression on his face. I can’t read him at all. There’s no clue to what he’s thinking other than his words. “It was my error, not yours.”

I step into the shower with him. “Maybe it wasn’t a mistake. Maybe it was something else. I liked it last time—the time in the elevator. The feelings were similar, but this time they derailed. I don’t understand why.”

Sean closes his eyes and turns away from me. He rinses off and tries to step out, but I grab his wrist. I flash my ring at him. “I’m going to be your wife, remember? We take chances together and when they don’t work out, we fix them. This didn’t work. I need to know why.”

Sean doesn’t look at the ring. He just stares at me with that arrogant look in his eye, like he knows but won’t tell me. “No, you really don’t. We won’t do it again, so put it out of your mind.”

He tries to pull away, but I don’t let him. “Sean!”

“Avery, not now. Don’t push this. Leave it alone.” The steadiness in his voice is gone. There’s a slight tremor, a warning note to let me know not to push him, but I have to. I can’t let it go.

“Just tell me.”

“You don’t need to know.”

“Like Hell I don’t! Do you even know what I just gave you? You owe it to me! Tell me what I did wrong!” I’m yelling in his face, ready to cry.

Sean’s shoulders square and I know I won’t get an answer from him. I turn on my heel quickly and drag the curtain closed, before pressing my forehead to the wall. The tile is cold against my skin and the water disguises my tears. I don’t sob, but I can’t stop the rest. It feels wrong.

A moment later the curtain opens. Sean’s voice is soft. “It wasn’t you, Avery. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m—I fucked up.” I turn slowly, but avoid his eyes. My arms are wrapped around my middle as the water pounds over me. Sean continues, “Sometimes I can’t sort between the past and the present. I don’t want to hurt you, and the truth will hurt you more. I don’t want to say the rest. I mean, I don’t think I should.”

I lift my chin and meet his somber gaze. Shaking my head, I press him, urging, “Let me in.”

“Not this time, Avery.”

“You were somewhere else. I was someone else. If you say it, if you admit it, it’ll stop. Purge your soul, Sean. Just do it. Whatever I’m going to imagine is going to be worse than what you were thinking anyway.”

Sean just shakes his head and turns from me with his jaw locked tight. Whatever past he was reliving, it terrified him as much as it terrified me.





CHAPTER 12




The rest of the afternoon passes slowly. I try not to think about what happened, but the box is still in the room and it reminds me. I close the lid and shove it to Amber’s side of the room before laying on my bed. We’re waiting for death to come knocking. I wonder how mental I am that I don’t care. My life is so out of control, so completely messed up, that I welcome the knock. I won’t jump off a ledge or anything, but I hurt so much… I just want it to stop.

Sean doesn’t say much. He’s upset with himself, of that I’m certain. He’s on my computer, doing God knows what, when he finally asks me, “Were there more videos from the sexting client that weren’t deleted?”