One Week Girlfriend

When we return to the real world, we’ll see how different we are. How we could never be a couple.

I’m not good enough for the likes of Andrew D. Callahan.

“I—I need to take a shower.” I suddenly do. The idea of scalding hot water washing away all of my tumultuous emotions has massive appeal and I need to get out of here.

“All right.” He clears his throat, and I wonder if he realizes how uncomfortable I am. He must. “Will you…will you come back to bed with me when you’re done?”

It took everything out of him to say that, I could tell, just by the tone of his voice. “Sure,” I lie, feeling terrible. I am the worst sort of person, lying to him. I hate liars. But I should hate me because I’m only lying to myself, thinking Drew can somehow, some way, feel something for me.

I escape his room and hide away in the bathroom, taking the hottest shower I can stand. I scrub at my skin until its red and raw, the steam billowing within the small room and the hot air making me dizzy. Tears are streaming down my face as I cry ugly, soundless sobs that wrack my body. I don’t understand why I’m so sad or why I need to get away from Drew. I don’t regret what I did for him, how I touched him and brought him relief. Release. If my touching him helped him erase even a little bit of what haunts him, I’m happy I could do that. It’s the least he deserves.

But my reaction to all of this is off the charts ridiculous. I’m falling apart. I don’t want to become dependent on Drew, yet it’s too late. I am. Slowly but surely I am and if I don’t stop it soon, my heart will become so entwined with his, I know I will literally bleed if we’re ever separated.

A shuddering breath escapes me as I step out of the shower and hurriedly dry myself off. I sneak back into my bedroom and slip on an old pair of sweats and a T-shirt, then dive beneath my cold as ice sheets and pull the covers over me, my still hot body shivering from the difference in temperature compared to the chilled in the room.

I’m totally exhausted and emotionally drained, but I don’t sleep well for the rest of the night, tossing and turning, thinking of Drew all alone in the next room. I abandoned him. I let him down.

I’m no better than my mother.

With that realization, I cry.

~* Chapter Eleven *~

Day 5 (Thanksgiving), 12:55 p.m.

The more I push you away, the more I want you to push back. – Drew Callahan

Fable

“Mom’s not making Thanksgiving dinner?” I ask incredulously, fighting the urge to rush outside and inhale a cigarette. My nerves are frazzled and my hands are literally shaking, but I only have two cigs left in my secret pack. The one that was full when I arrived here. I need to save them.

“Nope. She told me there was a frozen turkey dinner in the freezer from Marie Callender’s if I wanted that. Otherwise, I’m on my own.” Owen sounds disgusted and I don’t blame him. “I guess she went out of town with Larry. He has a daughter or something and they were going to have turkey dinner there.”

Unbelievable, that Mom wouldn’t bother taking Owen with her. He’s her son. Guilt eats at me for not being with Owen, but what else is new? I’m starting to think all the money in the world isn’t worth this turmoil. My heart is in tatters, my brain is sluggish and my brother has been virtually abandoned on a holiday that our mother usually loves and goes overboard in celebrating.

Even though it’s only been the three of us for so long, since my grandparents died within months of each other when I was eleven, my mom always makes a huge Thanksgiving dinner and invites everyone she can think of. Sometimes she’ll have her current boyfriend in attendance. Other times, friends from the bar where she likes to hang out, the lonely stragglers who have no family to spend the day with.

My mom may have her faults—and she has a shit ton of them—but she always brings in the strays for the holidays. Doesn’t like to see someone hurt and lonely.

Frowning, I shake my head. Yet she’ll abandon her son. Never contact her daughter. Sometimes I think she cares more about the people she drinks with than the people she created.

“I wish I was there.” I lower my voice since I’m in the main house and who knew if there are spies lurking about. I wouldn’t doubt it if there are. “You shouldn’t have to spend the holiday alone.”

“I’ll be all right.” His false bravado kills me. Owen tries to act so tough all the time. I wonder if it’s as exhausting for him as it is for me. “Wade’s mom invited me over. I think I’ll go to their house in an hour or so. Wade said they like to eat around three. Supposedly his mom makes a f**king awesome pumpkin pie.”

“Don’t curse.” My heart lightens and I plan on sending a thank you card, gift, whatever I can muster to Wade’s mom when I get back home. “I’m so glad you have somewhere to go.”

“Same here.” He pauses for a moment before he says in a small voice, “I miss you.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I miss you, too. But I’ll be home Saturday night, I promise. Let’s do something Sunday, okay? Maybe we could go to the movies.” We never go, it’s too damn expensive, even the matinee, but screw it. We need to infuse some fun in our lives. It’s too damn dreary in the Maguire household and we’ll both need the escape by the time I get home.

“I’d like that, Fabes. I love you. Happy Thanksgiving.”

“I love you, too. Happy Thanksgiving, sweetie.” I hit end on my phone and turn to find Adele standing not five feet away from me, her perfectly arched eyebrows lifted so high I’m afraid they’ll fly right off her too-pretty, too-smug face.

“Well. Don’t you sound cozy, chirping into your phone how much you miss and love him?” She takes a step toward me and I back away, fear shivering down my spine, though I don’t know exactly why. I shouldn’t be scared of this woman, despite her menacing expression and those cold, calculating eyes. She means nothing to me.

But I don’t want to make waves. It’s Thanksgiving for the love of God. Getting in some sort of stupid argument with his stepmom will only hurt and humiliate Drew and I don’t want to be that type of girlfriend, fake or not.

“Isn’t it rude to spy on other people’s conversations?” I ask, because I can’t help myself. I’m pissed she’s listening in, even more so that she believes I’m talking to another boyfriend, lover, whatever. I shouldn’t have to explain myself. It’s none of her damn business.

“Not when the conversations are happening inside my house, in my study. And when you just so happen to be the little tramp who’s f**king my Andrew.”

I flinch at the venom in her words. At how easily she drops the f-bomb and possessively calls him ‘my Andrew’. “He’s not yours,” I whisper. He’s mine.

I don’t have the guts to say it.

Her smile is catty. “That’s where you’re wrong. You’re temporary. A novelty. He brought you home to shock us, to horrify us into believing he might actually want to be with someone like you, but I know the truth.”

Glancing about the cavernous room, I search for an escape, but the only way I’m leaving is if I walk past her, and I don’t want to. She knows it. The bitch has me trapped. “Shouldn’t you be basting a turkey or something?”

Adele laughs but the sound is brittle. And there’s no humor in it whatsoever. “Trying to distract me? It won’t work.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “This holiday, it’s a very difficult time for my family, you know. The two year anniversary of my daughter’s death is this Saturday.”

Shock courses through me at her words. I’m literally stunned. I can’t believe Drew never told me he had a sister and that she died. Maybe his problems stem from her death? But that makes no sense, not from what I’ve witnessed in his behavior.

“I’m so sorry,” I say automatically and I mean it. The death of a family member is awful and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, even this rude witch of a woman. I was traumatized when I lost my grandparents. They were the one steady constant in my world when I was young, since I couldn’t count on my mother, then or now.

“Vanessa would be five now. Going to kindergarten, drawing turkeys she traced around her hand on a piece of paper.” Adele’s voice grows distant, as does her gaze. The sadness emanating from her is palpable and I feel sorry for her despite how terribly she treated me only moments ago. “She was beautiful. Looked just like her father.”

Drew’s sister died when she was three—how? What happened? And right after Thanksgiving? No wonder he didn’t want to come back here for the holiday. It’s probably a painful memory he’d rather forget. And there’s such an age difference between them. He would’ve been what, sixteen, seventeen when she was born? I wonder what took his dad and Adele so long to decide to finally have a child together? “I’m sure she was gorgeous. Your husband is a very handsome man.” I don’t know what else to say and it sounds so incredibly trite I immediately regret it. Especially when she shoots me such an odd look.

“My husband…” Adele’s voice trails off and she shakes her head. “You’re right. Andy is very handsome. As is Andrew.”

She always calls him Andrew. And last night, when I called him Andrew, he didn’t like it. At all. He flipped the hell out, actually.

Was that the trigger? Is she the trigger?

“The Thanksgiving meal will be served in thirty minutes,” she says crisply, all signs of mourning and sadness gone. “Afterwards, I suggest you go back to the guesthouse and pack your bags. I’ll have a taxi come pick you up and take you to the bus station later this evening.”

My mouth drops open in shock. She can’t be serious.

“Oh yes, I have plans, little Fable. Plans that don’t include you since they involve a private family matter and you’re nothing but an intruder. It’s best that you leave. I already spoke to Andrew and he’s in complete agreement with me.” Without another word, she turns on her very thin, very high heel and walks out of the room, leaving me to slump backwards into an overstuffed chair as if my legs can’t hold me up any longer.

She spoke with Drew already and he agrees that I should leave tonight? This makes absolutely no sense. I don’t understand what’s going on and my mind is awhirl with all the information Adele just gave me.

He has a dead, only three-years-old sister. What happened? How did she die? Was it a sickness, a disease that took her, or did an accident happen? I can’t be so completely insensitive to just point blank ask, so I guess I’ll never know unless he tells me.

And since he hasn’t told me so far, I’m not counting on ever knowing.

Stupid to admit, but it hurts that Drew never told me about his sister. That’s a major traumatic experience and he withheld it from me. Of course, he withholds a lot of things. He’s so full of secrets, I still don’t feel like I know him. Not really.

Earlier this morning he was out of the house by the time I finally came out of my bedroom, but I planned it that way. Locking myself up in my room, trying like crazy to get a hold of my mom though she never returned my calls—what else is new. Then I tried calling and texting Owen, but I figured he was sleeping in and I’d been right.

In fact, I still haven’t seen Drew. Is he mad at me for not coming back to his bed? Probably. It’s for the best, though. Whatever this is between us, it’s not happening. Not really.

No matter how badly I want it to.

Drew

“There’s another man in your supposed girlfriend’s life.”

I turn at the sound of Adele’s voice and discover she’s followed me out to the garden that’s connected to the backyard to talk with me. And we’re all alone.

Uneasiness washes over me and I tense my shoulders, prepared to do battle. “What are you talking about?”

Adele shrugs, the look on her face unreadable. “I heard a phone conversation she was having. She told whomever she was talking to that she missed him, she wished that she were spending Thanksgiving with him and she’s planning a movie date for the two of them when she returns home.” She’s totally getting off on giving me this bad news, and I’m trying my best, pretending everything’s fine. That her vicious, shitty words don’t affect me.

But they do. Fable withdrew from me so completely last night after what happened between us. The tables were turned and I didn’t like it. She never came back to my bed. She jerked me off and left me there, adrenaline still buzzing in my veins and amping me up, making me eager to explore her body just as thoroughly as she explored mine.

She left me high and dry instead. I finally fell asleep when I realized she wasn’t coming back and I still haven’t seen her or talked to her this morning.

It’s like she’s hiding away from me.

“Fable doesn’t have anyone else in her life. Only me,” I mumble, starting for the open doorway that leads back into the house.

Adele dodges left, grabbing hold of my arm before I can escape, her fingers digging into my flesh. “You don’t know that for sure, you idiot. I’m positive that whore is out spreading her legs for anyone who asks.”

I almost slap Adele across her bitchy face, I’m so angry. “Don’t ever call her that,” I say through clenched teeth. “Ever.”

“I heard her. She called him sweetie. She told him she loved him before she hung up. Face facts, Andrew. She’s cheating on you with another man.” Adele mock frowns at me, batting her eyelashes. “What’s wrong? Do you not keep her satisfied enough? I know you like to control all of those animal urges of yours to the best of your ability but sometimes, a girl likes it when you unleash all over her.”