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I chuckle. "Thanks. How was your week?"
"It was crappy but it's getting better now that I'm on the road.”
"On the road to where?"
I have a feeling I'll regret the question, but I ask anyway. A bitter part of me sometimes wonders if she only calls so she can tell me about her latest adventure, rather than truly ask about how I am. It's been a recurring thought throughout my life.
"I'm spending the weekend with Richard. You remember Richard, don't you?"
I hate that I'm tempted to say no just out of spite. But I do remember her newest boyfriend, the newest love of her life. Her love of one man after the other, and the heartbreak that followed when each of them left no matter how much she changed herself for them, had singlehandedly been the reason I swore long ago never to fall in love.
"I remember him," I say. "How long are you staying?"
"Oh, we'll see."
"What do you mean? Don't you have work on Monday?"
Her silence speaks volumes. My shoulders slump, already knowing what she will say next.
"Well...you know how spontaneous I am." She nervously chuckles. "I decided that job wasn't a good fit for me. And you know, Richard was saying he wished I could give him more of my time and attention, so I figured—"
"So, you figured you would disrupt your own life yet again to live the life some man tells you to?" I snap.
I curse to myself in the silence that follows my harsh words.
"You give everything for love," she murmurs. "Haven't I always told you that?"
Yes, she had. But her actions behind those words had taught me even more. That even though you give your all, in the end, love is not enough. The way I see it, love is a curse, and I never plan on letting my mother's curse pass on to me.
I shake my head, tucking away all the things I want to say to her and instead ask, "Where is he taking you?"
Her voice is much more cheerful when she answers. "His lake house. Can you believe it?"
"Please text me when you get there, so I'll know you arrived safely."
"Of course. What about you, anything planned for tonight?"
To have sex with two men I've deliberately avoided thinking about all week.
"Nothing special. Just me and the couch."
"Lexa, you are far too beautiful to be sitting at home alone on a Sunday."
"Yes, so you've said a time or a thousand." I chuckle. "Have fun this weekend. Don't forget to text me."
"Okay. Love you, honey."
"Love you, too, Mom."
I hang up and go to put my phone on the counter, only it vibrates in my hand before I get the chance to. The screen lights up and I see a text from Jeremiah. I despise my heart for the way it begins beating faster at just seeing his name.
Here's our address. See you at six.
I read the address, both loving and hating the way he doesn't ask but tells me what time to be there. I ignore the heat rushing through me as I see Ezekiel’s name at the top too, but something tells me he won’t be texting me a message as well. Putting my phone down, I go to my bedroom closet to look for something to wear. I have no idea how I'm supposed to dress for a night at their house. Casual, dressy, jeans, a dress? I settle on a soft pink tank top with a swooping neckline and a flowy black skirt that comes all the way to the floor.
I shower, shave, and wash my hair, all the while the excitement in me worrying me. It's easy at first to tell myself it's only anticipation at what's to come, but as I get dressed and do my hair, looking at my reflection and wondering if they'll like what they see, I'm forced to admit that it's more. I'm wondering about more than what they'll do to my body. I'm wondering what they'll say. What they'll have on, or not have on. I wonder if they've been thinking of me as much as I've been desperately trying not to think about them.
My phone vibrates again, and I open the text, thinking it's from Jeremiah again. It's from my mom instead, letting me know she's arrived at Richard's lake house. It's like a bucket of freezing water getting poured over me, brutally reminding me of why I can't afford to think of them as anything other than men to pleasure me. I'll end up like...her.
