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Alejandro had always been secretive about his past, but now it was leaking out from the bourbon-fueled lips of Albert Jones. Something so private was said so nonchalantly, and now I couldn’tun-knowit. What the hell was up with Alejandro and Natalie Brower, and why couldn’t he tell me more about her or the DJ he beat up? And if this wasn’t enough to think of, I was now also concerned for Camilla. I looked down at my plate, my mouth still filled as I finally answered Mama Meg.
“Everything’s perfect,” I replied, unintentionally dropping crumbs from my mouth. “Ab-so-lute-ly perfect…”
Chapter27
Gemma
Ipulled Andy towards my chest, listening to the pattering rain of a mellow Hamptons storm. It wasn’t too bad, not unbearable like the idea of knowing if Alejandro finally reached out or not.
It’d be so easy to do the things I wanted, to check for Alejandro’s reply, to peek into the life of Natalie’s husband. I knew I could but reserved myself at the possible cost of doing so.
“Should I look at my phone?” I asked Andy, holding him in my hand, unable to sleep. I turned his little head from left to right, answering ‘no’ to the question.
I placed him on the pillow beside me, exchanging him for the very thing he warned me against. “I’m just going to hold it, in case it goes off.” I excused myself, questioning my sanity as I explained my reasoning to a stuffed giraffe.
I rolled over, but stopped when I spotted the cherry cigarette I’d stolen from Alejandro on the floor.It must have fallen out from my bag.I wasn't sure why I thought it was smart to bring it, hopelessly wanting just some small part of him still close by. Honestly, it was all I had at the time, and the desire to taste his cherry lips suddenly felt like some unreachable itch. I lifted it up to my nose and shut my eyes, making everything much darker, and in the brief exciting moment, imagined him finding me all over again, lost in the shadows amongst the rain-filled night. Doing this was a bad idea, compelling me with the strangest desire to taste Alejandro once more, to do the unthinkable, to leave this house, brave the rain, and smoke this cigarette.
Andy fell over as I stood up, landing on the electric blue numbers of the bedside alarm clock. It was late, well past midnight, and I knew I had to be quiet, silently passing the door and hall as I made my way down the shadowed staircase.
Initially, I wanted to get out as fast as possible, but stopped myself as I reached the bottom, overtaken by the need to peer into the living room by my side. I didn’t know why I did this, or why I was so surprised by what I saw, but the sight itself felt calmer than any puff of cherry smoke.
There in the dark, peacefully undisturbed was Parker, doing as he promised, staying close by in case the storm became unbearable.That was sweet of him, I thought to myself, watching as he lay on the couch, covered in the warmth of a fluffy, grey blanket.
I stopped from getting closer, his ambient calmness like a remedy to my sleepless night that I so desperately needed. I knew if I were to lie within the nook of his body, that I’d instantly start to dream.
“Parker?” I whispered quietly, gauging the deepness of his sleep.
He didn’t respond.
I leaned against the arched doorway, admiring how the soft breaths he took exchanged themselves for the rise of his chest. As the rain fell and the light poured in, he seemed to glow like an angel; his hair unfixed, falling loosely like golden waves onto his pillow. There was something so perfect about his imperfect sleep; the way his lips parted, how his hands curled underneath his cheek.
“Parker…” I said once again.Parker, Parker, Parker.I couldn’t help but repeat his name in my mind, saying it without anger or disappointment as I had the past few weeks.
Twisting the cigarette in my hand, its filter brushed against my butterfly ring. In my palm were pieces of Alejandro and Parker, two men who inspired two different Gemmas. I wanted the cherry kisses and to be someone’s Butterfly, but romanticizing both versions didn’t make it any clearer on what version of myself I still wanted to be.
Was it possible that Parker felt like I did with Alejandro? Completely locked out of my life as I ran from my past? I worked so hard to keep that inside, and now it made me wonder if I was in the wrong this whole time.
This quiet realization was short lived, immediately fleeting as the loud clink of a dish jostled itself from the kitchen, catching my attention.
I wasn’t alone.
A small pendant light broke through the archway across from me, an insignificant accent to an otherwise darkened house that floated above Camilla. She sat at the counter, raking her fingers through her long, black hair, allowing it to fall over her striped cotton pajamas.
Jesus, she made me nervous, especially after the complicated dinner that ruined her night. I was sure she wanted to be alone, and I was sure her embarrassment from dinner never left. Honestly, I felt bad, and although it would’ve been easier to walk away, I knew there was something I had to do. I tucked the cigarette into my front pocket and clutched my phone.
“Can’t sleep?” I asked quietly, not wanting to startle her. She seemed unfazed, peeking over her shoulder before turning away.
“I guess… something like that,” she stirred a small cup of tea with a silver spoon. “And you?”
“Just thirsty,” I lifted a cup off a rack that hung below the cabinets. “Wanted some water.”
“Water? You’re not going tothrowthat in my face too, are you?”
Ouch.
Her words didn’t have their usual harshness attached, yet they stung, nonetheless. I couldn’t help but feel guilty, but forced myself to acknowledge that it was Camilla who was always determined to put me down first, not once making an effort otherwise to be friends. Typically, she always seemed so confident, but right now she was different, more guarded in a way that made her appear so uncomfortably visible.
“I don’t want to cause trouble. I just want to make sure you’re ok.”
