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Chapter thirty-one

Cecilia

Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID!

The vibrations from my phone wake me up from a restless sleep. With shaky hands, I reach for the lit-up device. The first thing I see are hundreds of tags, comments, DMs, and a few texts from co-workers.

I open a text from Steve first, and the only thing his message says is, “I’M GOING TO KILL HIM!!!” Shaking my head in confusion, I pull out of the text thread and open my Instagram app that keeps pinging with new notifications.

Suddenly his message makes sense, and the confusion clears. My body freezes over. My lungs stop working. My hands shake aggressively while my eyes fog over.

Because there at the top of my page is a picture of my husband. The man I love more than life itself, kissing another woman. A woman who isn’t me... a woman who looks nothing like me.

A loud sob rips from my throat. I raise my hand over my mouth, trying to keep it in as tears overflow down my cheeks. I swipe up to the next picture, and again I’m hit with another brutal assault to my heart. This one of them entering the hotel together.

I drop the phone to the ground and run to the bathroom, my emotions too strong as they pull everything from inside, and I vomit my guts out into the bowl.

I hear the door opening from a distance and Aubrey’s soft voice calling my name. “Cece? Cecilia? Are you okay?”

She comes to the opening of the bathroom and stops when she sees me, kneeling in front of the bowl as I gasp for air. My body convulses on its own. I drop back to the wall, no longer able to support myself when the room starts spinning. The tears keep pouring out, I can’t stop them.

It’s too much, my chest hurts. Everything hurt. I feel like I’m going to pass out.

“Oh, God! MORGAN!” she yells and rushes over to me, brushing the hair out of my face as she kneels in front of me. “What’s wrong, Cece? Talk to me. Tell me what happened.”

Seconds later, Milo bursts into the room with Morgan behind him. He tries to come to me, but Brey stops him and takes him away. Morgan sits beside me and takes me into her arms, putting my back to her chest.

“It’s okay, sweetie. You’re okay. I’m here with you.” She strokes my hair and rocks us back and forth, whispering the words over and over again in my ear.

“I... I can’t... breathe,” I croak out through my gasps and sobs.

“You can, you’re just having a panic attack. Focus on my voice and take deep breaths. In and out, in and out. Yeah, like that. You’re doing great. Keep going. You’re okay, we’ll get through this together. I promise. You’re okay,” she says soothingly.

Eventually, my breathing comes back down. From the corner of my eye, I see Aubrey bending down to pick up my phone and look at the lit screen. “Oh no...” Her eyes well with tears as she looks at us. And that’s all I need to break down all over again.

A wail projects from my mouth. Morgan tightens her hold on me, my body giving out in her arms, my soul giving up the fight. All I can do is cry and scream and beg for this all to stop. Beg for it to be a nightmare that I’ll wake up from.

But I don’t wake up.

And the pain never stops.

An hour later, my cries have finally subsided, at least for now. Morgan and Aubrey managed to get me downstairs to the couch with a blanket. They wanted to put me in my bed, but I refused.

It’s too painful being in there, everything reminds me of him. Everything in this house reminds me of him. But our bedroom, that was our favorite place. And right now, it just feels cold. Cold and empty... like me.

My mind has shut off. I’ve cried every tear from my body, and now I just lay here, numb. Everything hurts, yet I can’t feel anything at the same time. It’s a strange feeling, but I want this. I prefer this to the pain I felt earlier.

This is easier.

I’m so tired, yet I can’t sleep. My body has no more fight left in it, leaving only an empty shell of myself. Aubrey and Morgan sit by me, talk to me, but I don’t hear them. Nothing registers.

Nothing makes sense.

I’ve fallen into an abyss where everything is blank, darkness crawling in every corner. I welcome it, this emptiness. This nothingness. If it means to stop the pain, then I’ll let it consume me.

“Come on, Clay. Pick up, pick up, pick up,” Morgan says, holding the phone in front of her face. She’s sitting in the armchair, facing me as I lie on my side. I watch her but don’t say anything. Even if I tried, I don’t think I could.

I’m too tired.

Eventually, the call connects. “Finally!” Morgan explains.

“Babe? Is everything okay?” Clay says with a hoarse voice.

“No, everything is not okay!” Emotions fill her words. “Silas... he... oh my God, Clay. It’s all over the internet. You need to get to his room now and punch him for me or do something before I get on a plane and murder him myself!” Her voice breaks, and a lone tear slips past her lower eyelid.

There’s a long pause before a loud MOTHER FUCKER! rings through. Then some rustling of fabric and a door slamming shut. I’m guessing he just saw the pictures... a minute or two goes by before sounds start up again. A thunderous BANG! BANG! BANG! can be heard as Clay pounds on a door.

“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, HAYES! BEFORE I KICK IT DOWN!” he shouts, banging his fist against the door again.

Suddenly we hear a faint voice saying they’re coming, the swishing sound of the door opening. “What is—”

A distinctive blow sounds through the speaker, cutting off my husband’s words, followed by the loud thud of a body hitting the ground. Morgan gasps loudly with her hand over her mouth, eyes wide with horror.

“ WHAT THE FUCK, BURKLEY!? You just punched me in the face!”

“You fucking deserved it, you piece of shit! You’re lucky I don’t do worse! How could you fucking do that to her!?” Clay spits out, deadly anger radiating from his tone.

“What the hell are you talking about, Clay!?” Silas says loudly, irritation and confusion can be heard in his voice.

How is that possible? How can he not know what he’s done?

“Baby, why are you screaming? Come back to bed,” a woman’s voice rings through the phone in the distance.

The pain instantly rushes back all at once. My breath catches, and I struggle to take more in. My eyes begin to water. My stomach feels queasy. My chest feels like it’s being ripped apart repeatedly.

I don’t want this. I need it to stop.

“What the—” Silas begins but is quickly cut off.

A shove is heard as Clay speaks harshly. “She’s still in your fucking bed!? ”

I lose the battle against my stomach and start to puke once more, over myself and the side of the couch, barely making it to the edge to dump the remainder of its content. Aubrey jumps up right away and begins to rub my back up and down as I finish emptying my stomach on the floor.

In the background, I can hear Clay yelling at Silas.

“I fucking told you, Sy! I told you a year ago what marriage was about. And not to do it if you weren’t going to commit to her.

Why the hell didn’t you listen!? What the fuck was the point if you were just going to destroy her not even a year later! ”

Clay pushes Silas against something. “I’ve never been so disappointed in you, and I fucking hope she leaves your ass.

Because she deserves so much better than you!

” Another shove is heard. “We’re done. You and me?

We’re done. We may have to be teammates, but from this moment, that’s all we are. You’re no longer my brother.”

“I didn’t fucking know! I didn’t know...” The man I thought would never hurt me yells back as Aubrey helps me stand and walks me up the stairs.

The last thing I hear is Silas screaming at the girl to get out of his room. But it doesn’t matter, it’s too late. The damage is already done, and I don’t know if it can ever be fixed...

SILAS

FUCK! Fuck, fuck, fuck!

What have I done? What the hell have I done!?

I rush back inside the room and pick up the woman’s discarded clothes, throwing them at her while she sits up in bed.

“Get out,” I tell her and go to my suitcase, pulling on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

Then I head over to my phone, only to see that I have missed calls and texts from my wife, and a couple from my family, too.

I look back to the bed and see the girl isn’t moving. I’m losing my mind. I need her gone. I need to fix this. “What the fuck are you waiting for!? Get dressed and get the fuck out of my room!” I yell and yank at my hair.

I walk back and forth, then head into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. Placing my hands on the vanity and dropping my head between my shoulders, I start to dry heave. Oh, God! This can’t be happening. What the hell happened last night?

I go over the night in my head, my first beer with Clay, the shot. Then another beer and a shot... then another. From there, everything gets foggy. I remember laughing, dancing, cheering. More shots, then nothing. FUCK!

I splash some water on my face, but it doesn’t help make me feel better. I feel sick to my stomach. How could I have done this? I love my wife. I don’t want anyone else, so what happened?

I look up into the mirror and see red lipstick on my neck. Just the sight makes my stomach flip over, and I bend just in time to hurl into the toilet. When it finally stops, I jump in the shower, feeling disgusted with myself and needing to wash this nightmare off me.

I scrub my skin raw, turning it red with the burning water, then get out. When I exit the bathroom, the woman is nowhere in sight. Finally, she left. But not without leaving her number on the hotel’s notepad. I rip the sheet of paper off, ball it up, and throw it in the trash.

I sit on the end of the bed with my phone in hand just as a message from my mother comes in.

Mom

SILAS HAYES! What have you done!? I didn’t raise you like this.

Next is my father.

Dad

Son, whatever you did, fix it. Don’t ruin the best thing you have.

And then my brother.

Spencer

Bro... WTF ?

I can’t deal with this now, I need to talk to my wife. I need to explain myself, even if I have no idea what happened. I just need to hear her voice. I need to fix this. I can’t lose her.

I go to her contact and call, but she doesn’t pick up. I call over and over, I text, I call Morgan, then Aubrey, but no one answers. “Please, someone answer...” I say out loud. I try Cecilia again and again.

Me

Please, baby. Please pick up. I’m sorry. Please, I just need to hear your voice... please.

Me

I’ll do anything. Just tell me what to do. Please, Cecilia. I can’t lose you. We can fix this. I know we can... please just pick up.

I call her number again, but she still doesn’t answer. Not until the fifteenth time when the line finally connects and my heart skips a beat. There’s hope, it’s small, but it’s there.

It has to be.

“Minnie?” I say quietly, afraid if I say one wrong thing she’ll hang up. I’ve already fucked up bad enough, I don’t want to make it worse.

She doesn’t answer, but I know she’s there. I can hear her shaky breath through the speaker, her little sniffles that she tries to conceal.

“Baby, I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.

I know there’s nothing I can say to make this better, but I swear I didn’t know.

I have no idea what happened last night.

I would never do this to you willingly, you have to believe me.

.. Please, Minnie... God, I’m so fucking sorry.

.. I love you, you’re everything to me.. .”

Her sniffling gets loud, her breath picking up like she’s gasping for air. But it all sounds muffled, like she’s covering her mouth. My heart squeezes, chest tightening to the point of pain. Fuck, I did this to her...

My eyes water and my voice becomes wobbly as I continue to talk. “I’ll fix this, I promise. This can’t be the end of us. It can’t. I’ll find a way. Everything will be okay. I love you, Minnie.”

A rapping sound comes from the door, and I stop. “Hayes, time to get up. Bus will be here in fifteen,” someone says from the other side and leaves. Fuck .

“Baby, I... I have to go... just please... please don’t leave... wait for me. I know it’s a lot to ask, but please just wait for me to come home...” My voice breaks, and I take a deep breath in, trying to steady myself.

A pained sob comes through the phone and my heart falls to pieces. No... I can’t take this... this is all my fault... and I can’t even be there to make it better...

“Minnie, please... say something... anything... yell at me, scream... just anything is better than this... I just need to hear your voice...” I beg, brokenheartedly.

It’s silent for a while, her cries quiet. I begin to lose hope that she’ll talk, but then she takes a deep breath. I wait... and wait...

“Happy birthday, Silas,” she murmurs, and the line goes dead.

I was wrong... that’s so much worse than her silence...

The phone drops from my hand, and I lose myself. Slipping off the bed and to the ground as a devastating howl explodes from my lungs, and I cry for the last few minutes I have by myself.

Alone.