Tarnished Love by Bianca Borell
CHLOE
You were drunk, Chloe, and went through a long dry spell. You have a good excuse. Do not kill him, he’s not worth the jail time, and you missed the prick. I can’t believe he thought I cheated with my dad. I shiver at the thought alone. Why didn’t he confront me? No instead he had to . . . how could I forget? I rush to the bathroom and hug the toilet as I bend over and throw up. It isn’t the drinking making me sick, it is sheer disgust.
“Was I that bad?” he questions, trying to lighten up the mood, while the image of them sprawled on the couch poisons my brain.
“Leave.” My voice ends with a bite.
“Please, hear me out.” I snap my head to his while he sits on the edge of the bed.
“There is nothing you can say to make this better.”
“I didn’t know it was her.”
“Sure.”
“Chloe, I was shitfaced.” I dab at the corners of my eyes. I won’t cry anymore, I wish my eyes would catch up with the memo.
“I will never forgive you.”
“I apologize. I love you.” My fingers itch to claw his eyes out. My insides are quaking, unbalancing me as if I am a baby deer taking its first steps.
“Don’t you dare say it.”
“It’s true.”
“What is happening in here?” Anabelle appears, screeching to a halt. We’re naked. She has seen us both naked before, and the hurt slices through me once more. She spots it and sighs.
“I should go.”
“Why, it’s not something you haven’t seen before.” The hurt flashing in her eyes has me apologizing.
“I am sorry, Annabelle. Filip, leave already.”
I take a shower and find them at the table; he is hunched over a bowl of cereal while she chomps down on a toast. The jealousy burning inside of me rips me to shreds.
“Can you wait until I am gone?”
“Chloe, stop this.”
“I never had a threesome, don’t want one either.” He rakes his hand through his hair while Anabelle hangs her head.
“I am sorry, Anna,” he says, and she nods at him.
“Drive me to Damien’s place.”
He shoots a quick text, and I inflict as much venom as I can conjure.
“You have someone to get your car for you?”
“Why are you so surprised? I am still an entitled prick.”
“Yes, add a jerk and fucking a best friend to the list.”
“I didn’t fuck her. Tell me what I can do. I swear I’ll do anything.” He punches at the air as if the solution will materialize.
“Let me be.”
“I can’t.”
“Filip, I will never forgive you.”
“At least forgive her.”
“I am trying.” I rush past him and take two stairs at a time. In the car I open my Insta, and he plays Mumford and Sons. I shut it, and he sighs but leaves it.
When we reach Damien and Bria’s apartment, I spot them in their own world, their love hitting me. There could have never been anyone else for him. I am glad something always happened to stop us, we would have lost our friendship. And if I need someone in my life, it’s him. I can count on him.
I despised her for years, but once I got to know her, her fierceness, her selflessness, her loyalty, it’s impossible not to like her. Her story wrecked me, and I hope they will have the chance to grow old together. They deserve it.
Later at the bridal salon, when she appears, wearing layers of white elegance, emotions tug at my heart. I wanted this with Filip, even though I would never admit it.
“Do you think he’ll like this?”
“He’ll love this Bria.”
Among the ruins of my old friendship, I begin new ones with these three women, Bria, Sophia, and Sarah, and still, I want my friendship with Anabelle back.
***
“We’ll meet there,” Alex says while watching me, pointing at his car. He is a great guy. I almost accept the offer when Filip calls my name. I have to get over this, I will be in Damien’s life and Filip will be more than he has been until now, his brother-in-law.
“Thank you, Alex, but I can handle this.”
“Never doubted it.”
In the car I find myself opening my mouth to interrupt the silence blaring in my ears.
“She looked beautiful. I am happy for them.”
“I pictured you in one.” My heart stops beating in my chest. Why is he still allowed to convey such earthshaking reactions out of me?
“I’ll wear white next week. I have a runway show.”
“I mean the real deal.”
“Filip, stop.”
“I wanted all this with you.”
“If you don’t stop talking, I am going to jump out of the car.” My fingers shake on the handle, and he must detect the desperation in my voice because he stops, and I breathe through the pain, surviving it one inhale and exhale at a time.
Damien’s already in a tux, putting to shame every cover model. He holds me longer while I sigh in his chest as he comforts me. Not only is he my best friend but also a male figure who allows me to hope.
Alex and Damien shake hands, it’s comical how they tiptoe around the other, while drinks appear.
“I have a surprise for you,” Damien says, and a salesperson appears smiling.
“What did you do?”
“Pick whatever you like.”
“This is unnecessary.”
“You’re my witness, shut up.” I kiss him on the cheek and on my way to the salesperson, Filip lowers and whispers, “Good to know you don’t give him hell. Does it hurt that he’s marrying my sister?”
“Filip,” I hiss and pierce him with a look, while his eyes burn with jealousy. I graze him with my side as I follow the salesperson to where a row of dresses hangs.
“You have free rein.”
“Thank you.”
Half an hour later, she clears her throat, and all three men snap their heads up. I parade in front of them and both Damien and Alex clap while Filip scowls.
I pretend not to give a fuck when inside I really do, even if I shouldn’t because of him.
***
In a coffee shop, I meet with Sophia and Sarah.
“So, you and Filip, never saw that coming, but to be honest this family will never cease to surprise me,” Sarah says.
“Come on, are we that bad?” Sophia asks.
“Bloody, yes.”
Sarah giggles and Sophia says, “Just a warning, Filip gets what Filip wants.”
“No.”
“That’s sweet.” Her love for him shines in her eyes, but also a warning that what Sophia said is a fact, not an observation. Whatever, she’ll see, I won’t cave.
“He slept with my best friend.” Fucking, sleeping, plain semantics to me as my anger doesn’t separate them.
“He didn’t know that.” These two would get away with murder with the other as a witness.
“Why are you so sure?”
“Because I know him, he would never do that intentionally. He is a dick, and a tad revengeful, but compared to my dear brother, he has boundaries. If he says he didn’t know, he didn’t.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“I am sure it isn’t.” I place my cup down and look straight in her eyes.
“So, you and Alex.”
“Yes.” I have never seen a woman talk less about her personal life than her.
“This wedding will age me prematurely, and she has zero interest.” Sarah huffs, and takes a sip.
“She wants the man, their future. This is just something my brother wants more, and what my brother wants, he gets.”
“I’ll try to talk to her on the jet, but it is as if they are glued together, and I don’t want to interrupt them.”
When I reach home, I catch Anabelle looking through the classifieds and guilt strikes me.
“Chloe, I can understand your bitterness, but I won’t accept it anymore.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m searching for an apartment.”
“No, don’t. I am sorry.”
“Chloe, I would never hurt you on purpose, and if it’s any consolation, what we did doesn’t count as fucking. We were both too drunk to do it.”
“I can’t.” I put my face in my hands, will I ever escape this hurt strangling me. She takes my hands in hers, and her lips part in a sad smile.
“But you have to. Chloe, I am sure he didn’t know it was me.”
“What does it change? Anything?”
“It doesn’t have to change anything, but step outside your hurt and try to see the entire picture.”
We spend the night catching up over Chinese takeout.
“It’s okay to still love him.”
“He broke my heart.”
“A broken heart can still love, especially the person who broke it in the first place.”
“I don’t want to.”
The next morning, traveling to my next job. I am still getting used to my face plastered on billboards while I try to come to terms with everything around me. My best friend is getting married. Anabelle and I return to the place we were before this all shifted, and Filip slept with someone else because I supposedly cheated on him first. The complicated part is, I didn’t cheat on him, and he didn’t sleep with just anybody. I push him in the back of my mind as I pose for a cover and a perfume campaign.
***
“Filip, stop calling me!”
“Do you still love me?”
He calls, and I hang up, this is what we have done for the past week. If I lie to his face and say no, he would leave me alone, but I can’t, therefore we continue whatever this is that keeps me smiling for no reason. And then I remember, and my good mood plummets.
Paris has a certain vibe, an electricity, I will forever be in awe of this city. I finish with the runway show and change for the after party. The buzz outside is only highlighted by the buzz inside, people swarming, chatting, and champagne flowing like it comes from a faucet. I stretch my lips into a smile, and they will remain curled until the night ends.
That was the plan, until Filip appears, grinning and winking at me while models surround him and anger coils around me. I have seen them before at his and Damien’s side. How many did he fuck? I don’t care. Translation: I do care, and I want to know but then I would go bat shit crazy.
“What do I have to do to take you on a date?” the man I’m stuck speaking with asks. He is persistent, but I would not be another notch on his bedpost. He emanates that playboy vibe, too much self-confidence, oozing of money. You are well acquainted with the type, my brain reminds me.
“Determined, I see.”
“There is a certain rush.”
Some men don’t understand the fact that women don’t like them, and he does nothing for me. I am about to point this out to him when Filip pulls me to his side, interlinking his hand with mine, and Calvin’s eyes widen.
“I wasn’t aware she is yours, Filip.”
“She’s not a possession,” Filip snarls.
He disappears while I snatch my hand away.
“I didn’t need your help.”
“It was to keep my hand occupied and not punch his face.”
I smile while his chest strains in his black tuxedo jacket.
“You know him.”
“Yes, he’s the older brother of a friend of mine.”
“Yes, well, I have to mingle. Bye.”
“Chloe, I’ll be damned if I will leave tonight without you.”
I love this side of him, this untamed, spoiled rotten in the way that he pursues what he’s after.
“Why would I?”
“Because I am an entitled prick, and you still love me.”
“You . . . you . . .”
“You’ll leave with me.”
I growl and do what I said I would—I mingle. And to my horror he does the same. What does he have, a whistling cock that makes all pussies here get on their backs? My jealousy spikes up. I will calm myself, I open the door to the terrace, the Eiffel Tower lighting the sky. I sense him long before he approaches me. It’s in the air switching to heady and earthy, and goose bumps erupt on my skin from sensory overdrive.
“You slept with my best friend.”
“I did, as in we slept on the same couch.”
“How does anyone come back after knowing that you would have, and you tried?” I tilt my face to him, and his hands grip the balcony stone railing, a broken smile lifting in the corner of his mouth.
“Is there a right answer, Chloe?”
“I believed in you.”
“I hate that I broke your trust, but it was then I realized your accusation was right. I trust no one. I acted impulsively, believing the worst. But I swear, I learned my lesson. Losing you, not having you in my life is hell. I burn in it, every day without you.”
“I hate that I can’t just call out your bullshit, your truth always seemed the most honest one.”
“Isn’t truth supposed to be true by definition?” I bite down on my lower lip and hang over the balcony rail while he perches next to me, his head cocked to me, his intense gaze never leaving mine.
“What do you want, Chloe?”
“Everything that makes you, well, you. All your insecurities, hidden truths.” He stiffens.
“I doubt you’re going to like that.”
“Those are my conditions, if you want us to be friends.”
He huffs and arches an eyebrow at me.
“Do you think I would give you a glimpse of me for us just to remain friends?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Cut the politesses and cuss at me, that at least would be honest.”
“Filip, you hurt me, there is no going back after that.”
“Do you love me?”
“Love has nothing to do with it, damn it.”
“I love you, Chloe, and I fucked up.”
“How was it?” I turn to him, and he raises his hands to the sky.
“You want the details?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t fucking remember, happy?”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe me.” He cups my face in his and says, “Come back with me.”
“Keep the illusion alive?”
“We are no illusion, Chloe.”
“You should have said something.”
“I should have, but I can’t go back in time. I was confused, angry, emotionally wrecked, worst timing possible, I can go on.”
“If I come with you, will you accept we’re going to be just friends?”
He purses his lips, and I leave him there while I go on with my night. He follows me outside, and at the top of the stairs, he says,
“Okay, friends, if this is what you want. Let’s be fucking friends. Where are you staying?” he questions as we slide in the back of the limo.
Paris, the city of love, and here I am with the only man I have genuinely loved, wanting to fall out of love. The city lamps tunnel my vision as we drive through the streets. When the driver parks, I force myself to say something.
“Say you want more,” he urges, kissing the tip of my fingers while I shake my head. “Please, Chloe . . . am I too much, do you not want me anymore?”
I shut my eyes and rush out of the car. I feel like I’m in a movie, dressed in a couture gown while he peers at me through the window of a stretch limo, wearing a custom-made suit. My lips part into a broken smile, I don’t know why, because he’s beautiful, because my heart is still with him. I wave goodbye, and he slumps in the backseat.
