Page 39 of Piggy

Charlotte

I bought a toy.

Ordered it online without even thinking twice. I just hope it can feel as good as when Grayson makes me climax.

So, before he gets home, I race to the shower and press the toy to my clit.

The small pink thing hums against me, suction teasing, tongue-like pulses curling my toes.

I imagine Grayson’s voice. His hands. His mouth.

His rage. I imagine his gentle touch, too, but it’s less special now that I know he didn’t like it.

He probably didn’t like our first time, either.

Snap out of it!

I focus, and eventually, my knees go weak. They hinge as I lean on the shower wall, shuddering. My orgasm is sharp and fast, but not quite enough. It’ll do, though.

I step out of the shower and stare at my reflection. My curls are frizzy and wild. My boobs sag a little more than I want to admit. My skin’s washed out without makeup. Not the kind of woman men ruin their lives for .

No wonder he hasn’t touched me.

Maybe he’s over me. Maybe the truck was the start of a goodbye on his terms, and I didn’t catch the hint.

I shake the thought off. I don’t have time to spiral. I have a graduation to get to. A tiny one, just for EMT training, but it matters to me. I passed all my practicals. I’m officially allowed to ride in ambulances now as a real EMT. I get to save lives. Well… assist in saving lives! I hope.

And Grayson promised to be there. So I wait on the couch, dressed in my best pants and a top that hugs my chest. Low cut just for him.

But no truck pulls up.

I check the time. Then again. I text him.

You on your way?

A pause.

Grayson

Stuck at work. We’ll grab the cert later & frame it

My stomach sinks .

No! I wanna go! It’s tonight @ 5. I need to be there.

Grayson

cant text rn. really srry

I stare at my phone like it just slapped me.

Really sorry? That’s it?

I clench my jaw and pace the room. I’m shocked. Angry. And then I remember. Keysha!

She shows up within thirty minutes, makeup still on from her shift, ready to play my hero. I’ll never know how to pay her back.

“Thank you so much,” I say, sliding into her car.

She side-eyes me. “Grayson’s a dick for pulling this shit. You deserve better.”

I nod slowly. I know she’s right. He should have encouraged me to go with Keysha. Anyone, really. I just hate hearing it. It scrapes over wounds I’ve tried so hard to ignore. It makes it harder to pretend everything’s okay.

I make it in time. I line up with Matt, Ashleigh, and the rest of my classmates. We hold our certificates and grin. We did it.

I did it.

Wow … it’s so surreal that I won’t be returning to Nautical Treasures, endlessly folding tourist clothes and watching for shoplifters. I’ll miss the view from the dock, but not working retail. My feet ache just thinking about it.

After the group picture, everyone stands with their family.

I sigh heavily because I’m jealous. No mom or brothers. And of course, no boyfriend. Keysha doesn’t leave me hanging, though, and is quick to get someone to take our picture. Gosh, I love her. Tonight, I am her charity case, but she makes me feel like I’m worth it. Bless her.

But something keeps needling my heart. It isn’t like Grayson to put my schooling second. Treating it like it is not important is the last thing I ever expected. I wonder if he really couldn’t leave work. I want to know.

*picture of me and Keysha*

Grayson

*Angry emoji *

My stomach flips.

What is that for?

Grayson

Lemme guess ur hitting the bars now with her. All dressed up

It’s like he didn’t even look at the certificate. Didn’t say congratulations. Just assumed the worst.

The tension builds in my chest again. He’s right, though. I want to celebrate. I want one stupid drink with my friend. But instead, I type back.

No bars, going home .

And I do.

It’s midnight. No sign of Grayson. Just me and Wilbur, my new little pig, who I’m still trying to potty train to use a litter box. He’s not exactly a fast learner. I’m starting to wonder if he is a potbelly pig. He sure loves me, though.

After feeding him, I sink into a chair at the kitchen table, head in my hands. The silence is thick, broken only by the relentless ticking of the clock and Wilbur’s snorts as he devours his food like it’s a race.

My phone rests face up beside me, screen dark, like it knows.

I wait.

And wait — until I pass out.

My phone rattles on the tabletop, startling me awake.

Grayson.

I snatch it.

“Hello?” My voice cracks. I’m not even sure I’m fully awake.

“Charlotte,” says that deep, raspy voice I love so much.

But he sounds distant, hollow. There’s shouting in the background. A metal clang. Echoes.

Then—

“I got arrested. ”

The words hit like a car crash. No warning. No screeching brakes.

“What? Are you serious?” My chest caves in. I can’t think. I just blurt, “No way! I can’t have three people behind bars now! I’m alone here! Why! What happened, babe?”

He’s quiet. Detached.

“Meghan said I broke the restraining order. I know you’re upset. But—”

“Upset!” I sob into the phone. Loud, ugly sobs.

“Charlotte.” His voice hardens, more bossy. “I need you to stop crying and listen. There’s an envelope in the nightstand. Cash. Enough to cover next month’s mortgage. You’re starting work this week, so you can take it from here.”

“What?” My voice is a breath. A protest. “Why are you talking like this? Like you won’t be here…”

He pauses. Then says it like a final verdict:

“I can’t come back to you.”

My breath catches. “What—”

“It’s a probation violation,” he replies flatly. “They’re making me serve the rest of my original sentence… plus extra time for breaking the terms. No early release. I’ll be in prison for a long time.”

“No. No! Don’t say that.” I shoot to my feet, buzzing in a circle, not sure where I’m trying to go. I trip on Wilbur. He squeals. I squeal, too: “Grayson! This can’t be happening! Why would Meghan do this? Did you… did you really go near her? ”

“She’s pissed. Her pill supply got cut off. Brax has connections. Scared her dealer off. She blamed me.”

A cold shiver runs through me.

There will be consequences.

Brax’s words. This was his plan. Meghan was the weapon. Now Grayson’s locked away. He’s not dead or bleeding, but ripped from my life all the same. Just like he wanted.

I choke on a sob. “We’ll fight it. We’ll get you out.”

“No,” he says sharply. “We can’t. But you got a career now. I’m proud of you. You’ll be fine. After the next payment, the house is saved. And with you working again, you can petition to get Atticus back.”

I balk, loud and outraged. “Stop talking like that! Why aren’t you more upset?” I whimper. “Why are you acting like this doesn’t matter?”

He exhales hard. Almost like he’s doesn’t want to say it. But he does.

“I told you to have higher standards. Pick someone without legal problems next time, okay?”

My heart drops and I’m speechless.

Pick someone else? How can he say that!

“And it’s better it ends like this,” he mutters, voice ragged now, “than the way I always saw it ending.”

There’s a pause. Then, lower.

“I love you, Charlotte. Being with you…” A breath, then unsteadily, “It was the best time of my life.”

And like the cold-hearted monster he is, the line clicks.

No goodbye.