Page 137 of Taking Turns

“You are home, Chella.”

I look around and realize they brought me to my own apartment at the Club. I’m in my bed. There’s the capitol building outside my window. There’s the snow that never seems to stop these days. There’s the city that I didn’t grow up in.

“You know what I find odd?” Smith asks after a few minutes of silence.

“What?” I ask.

“You never had bad dreams with Quin or Bric. At first I thought it was me.”

“Smith—”

“Shhh,” he says. “Just listen. I thought it was me. That I scared you. But then that night we spent with Bric, you didn’t have bad dreams then either. And I started to wonder about that. Wonder if your house was the reason you had the nightmares. The sleepwalking.”

“I don’t sleepwalk.”

“You absolutely do, Chella. You walked out of the house once. Twice, actually, but I stopped you the first time before you got out the door. The second time you got all the way down the street. You were dressed. You had a coat. You had your purse. You were going somewhere. Where were you going?”

I start to cry again.

“I didn’t tell Bric. I should’ve. We could’ve seen this coming. But I didn’t want to think—I didn’t want him to tell me—that I might be the problem. I liked you too much to even consider giving you up.”

“Is that why you stayed away from me that one weekend?”

“Yeah.” He sighs. “I thought it was me until we had that night with Bric. You were so sweet that night, Chella. So sweet to sleep with. Not the fucking. I don’t care about the fucking. You cuddled up to me and wrapped your arms around me.” He sighs again. “And I realized it probably wasn’t me. It was a relief and—eye-opening, too. I guess. Because up until that moment, I swear to God, Marcella Walcott, I thought the world revolved around me.”

I smile, even though I feel so fucking ashamed of myself right now.

“And I know that most kids learn pretty early that they are not the center of the universe, but I always was. I had so many contradicting opinions thrown at me as a kid. Sometimes I was important because I was a billionaire’s heir. Sometimes I was important because I was so defective. And it was so contradictory, you know.”

I turn in his arms so I can lay my head on his chest and see his face. It’s too dark to see anything in his eyes but a little glimmer of light from outside.

“I was everyone’s whole world, good or bad. Love me or hate me. I was the problem. I was the center of all things happening in my life. Until I met you.”

I close my eyes and let it happen. Let the darkness take me. Just give in.

“It wasn’t a peek, was it, Chella?”

I shake my head and begin to cry.

“Shh,” he says, smoothing my hair down. “It wasn’t a peek for you at all. It was a part of you.”

“I’m sorry, Smith. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how fucked up I am.”

“It’s all right. I’m not mad. Not even close. But I do want to know what happened. Because… Chella, you are the center of my world now. I’m sorry too. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me. But you are. I’m kind of a dick when I don’t get my way. And I like to be in control and call the shots. And there’s no changing my mind once I’ve made it up. So you’re stuck with me.”

I don’t know what to say. “I know you want an answer, but I’m not there yet. I have no answers. That’s why I’m here. I’m doing my best to figure out what the fuck is wrong with me.”

“Why us?” he says. “How could we possibly be your answer? We are three very fucked-up men who share a girl like she’s candy. We play with her emotions and pull her in every direction we can think of, until she goes crazy and leaves. I just…” He stops for a moment. “I just really didn’t think we were doing that with you. But I guess I was wrong. I’m the one who’s sorry, Chella. I think we’re the ones who fucked you up.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight - Smith

“You’re not,” she says.

“Then tell me what happened. You blacked out, Chella. You were talking crazy. Screaming not to stop. Yelling and making promises to be good. What the fuck was that all about?”

She’s quiet. For a long time. I am just about to give in to sleep when she finally says something.

“My life was a secret like yours.”