Tarnished Love by Bianca Borell
CHLOE
In the elevator, I cannot suppress the feeling I insulted him. But part of me wonders if he’s right. Why judge him? A memory of my father, or better said sperm donor, pops up. He changed after he made money. He abandoned me and my mother. But knowing Damien, and having a glimpse of Filip, I get the impression their loyalty runs deep.
I can’t believe I threw a glass of water at him. He brings out the worst in me. But he also deserved it. I shake my wayward thoughts away; Filip and I are as opposite as can be.
As I swipe through my emails in the cab, I see I have another booking. This time it’s in New York and I’m booked on the red eye flight tonight. At home, I am packing my bag when my phone rings.
“Did you get home safe?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll pick you up. We can grab lunch together.”
I finish packing a small bag, take a shower, and get ready. Outside, Damien’s lips twitch into a half smile, half greeting. How would he look if he actually smiled or laughed? I hug him and slide into the passenger seat.
“About yesterday.” I wave him off. I won’t get a full-blown apology; this is all I will get.
“Bria.”
“Chloe.” His tone lowers to hard and angry.
“You’re the one in denial.” His knuckles turn white on the wheel. I sigh, and to change the subject, I say, “I’ll be gone for a while for another job.”
“Why don’t you come work for me?”
And be another Monica? I bite my tongue, but it’s true. It’s as if he treats people loyal to him as if they are lost puppies he has to tend. The difference is I can take care of myself, and I would sooner die than be like Monica. Someone completely enamored with a man, as if her only goal in life is to be at his side.
“Chloe, you have a degree in economics. You’d be a huge asset.”
“I like my job.”
“No, you like the image people have of you. It’s easier being underestimated, you prefer it.”
“Why shake their beliefs?”
“The world is not your father.”
“Damien.” This time it’s my turn to switch my tone.
“I am just saying that if you ever want to, I can arrange it.”
“I can get a job on my own.”
Frustration oozes out of him, and he raises his palms as a peace offering.
“So, when will the day care center be ready?”
“The work began this morning.”
A mix of wonder and incredulity spreads through me at how much he must love her, even though he loves torturing her too.
“What? It’s not about her.” Denial. As if I don’t know her name alone has the power to destroy him.
“Chloe, stop looking at me like that. It’s her job to offer solutions to improve efficiency, and it’s my job to make it possible.”
“Will you ever be done?” He flinches, my question hits a nerve, a sensitive nerve.
“One day.” Shock courses through my veins. I didn’t expect an answer. When the traffic lights turn red, he looks at me, his handsome face torn, like his heart.
“One of these days I will admit she’s not mine and never will be again.”
“And what will happen?”
“I’ll let her go.”
“And I hope you will let someone in.” He shrugs as if he knows it’s impossible. I begin to think the same. Bria owns him. She has every piece, dark, roughed, full of pain and hate now as she took everything with her.
He belongs to her.
***
Back home, I scroll through Netflix and stuff my mouth with popcorn when Anabelle appears. She eyes the popcorn and the movie, and the keys dangle from her hand as she places them on the table.
“Hard day?” she asks me even though she’s the one who had to go to work today.
“You didn’t come home last night. I worried. But I remembered you were with Damien.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“So?” Not this again.
“Nothing happened,” I retort and feign exasperation.
“Why not?”
“We’re friends.”
“And?”
“That man is unavailable.”
“He hasn’t found the one.”
I roll my eyes at her as she puts her coat on the hanger and plops next to me.
“Oh, he did. He just lost her. Anabelle, he’s a playboy.”
“Not with you.”
“Yes, because he cares about me, and I need him.”
“Fine. I’ll let it go.” But not for long since it’s as if she’s focused on seeing me together with him.
“You should find someone too and stop meddling in my personal life.”
“I am good, and that is what friends do.”
“Yes, you and that rabbit vibrator of yours will discover a new way to reproduce.”
She snatches a decorative pillow and throws it at my head, the laughter bursting out of me as her cheeks turn beet red.
“Have you heard of privacy?”
“You’re loud.” My lips curl up into a grin, and she leans back on the sofa.
“I leave tonight.”
“How long this time?”
“Three days.”
“I’ll miss you.”
“You’ll have mister rabbit to keep you company.”
She shakes her head at me as I stand up, blow her a kiss, and step inside the small kitchen to prepare myself a sandwich.
