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“It finally happened,” she writes in another diary entry. “Sully snapped. He and Matthew got into a fight outside. I was taking a bath when I heard the commotion. By the time I got downstairs, they were bloodied and bruised and hurling insults at each other while Jason struggled to keep them apart. I tried to get involved but it only made things worse. Matthew told me to go back to my room. I don’t feel safe here anymore.”
It doesn’t make any sense. Even in this moment, as I read these words, I struggle to imagine this side of Sully that Cynthia has so vividly described. He may be the tall, dark and mysterious type, but Sully is a good man with a giant heart and the patience of a saint. He likes it rough in the bedroom, sure, but I love that part of him more than anything. The way he pushes me around, the way he grabs my hair, or the finger-necklace he puts on me while he fucks me senseless, I love all of it. I’ve never felt any danger or discomfort, only safety and trust.
Why would he blow up like that? Cynthia doesn’t mention a reason, but I think I can guess at this point. It’s her. It had to be her. I have a feeling the reason Jason came home drunk is also because of her. Cynthia’s return has wreaked havoc on all of us. Our little corner of wintery heaven has been turned upside down, and it’s breaking my heart in ways I didn’t expect.
“Jason’s drinking every day,” Cynthia notes on another page. “He barely talks to me anymore, and when I try to talk to him about his issues, he just tells me to go suck Matthew’s dick, since he’s my favorite. Jealousy is a dangerous thing because it breeds hurtful words that cut deep. He’s in a lot of pain, and much like Sully, he is having an increasingly hard time in this relationship. I love the three of them equally. I would never leave one for the other. It’s either the four of us or nothing at all. And the prospect of nothing makes me want to curl up and cry through the night.”
I know what that feels like.
Looking back at the past couple of days, I realize the signs are already there. Jason is slowly pulling away from the group, and tonight’s incident will certainly cause a deeper dent in their relationship, not to mention ours. He knows about my dad’s history of heavy drinking after Maddie died. He knows how painful this is for me. So, why did he do it? Why did he choose to drown in alcohol instead of talking to me about what’s bothering him?
We used to be so open with each other. We used to tell each other everything. Well, almost everything. I’ve been keeping this diary a secret from them, so it’s not like I’m Saint Selina over here. But I would never hurt any of them intentionally.I’mhurt. I’m hurt and offended, and I’m sensing that I have little time left in this place before they discard me for old and nasty habits.
If I don’t feel safe here anymore, I can’t stay here. But I don’t want to leave them, either. I don’t want Cynthia’s fate to become mine.
19
Sully
Jason falling off the wagon is the first of many dark days to come. And it’s not just an ominous thought I’ve been having. It’s history repeating with enough accuracy to scare the hell out of me. After my years in the service, I never imagined I’d feel this way again, but it’s real—the dread, the insecurity, the sensation that everything I’ve tried so hard to hold on to is ultimately going to slip through my fingers.
I heard him come in the other night. I recognized the all too familiar sounds.
Matthew and I spent days and nights helping him out, keeping him close and giving him the support he needed to get through those first months. I saw Jason at his worst, and I am ready to see him through it again if I have to, but if there is one thing I’ve learned from his last relapse is that he needs to come to the right conclusion himself. Something tells me Selina will be his turning point this time around. He doesn’t want to lose her, and neither do I. Matthew would also be devastated.
We’ve gotten too close and we know it but there’s no turning back. A love like this doesn’t just pop out of nowhere.Love. As much as I loathe the word, I can no longer deny its reality. I’m scared, petrified. Selina saw Jason. She knows that something happened to him, something bad enough to make him drink again. I haven’t spoken to him yet, he’s been avoiding us.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together. Things have consistently gone sideways since Cynthia slithered back into the picture. She should’ve just stayed gone. God, I wish she would have remained a memory, a bad dream that we would eventually forget ever happened. The worst part is that it is taking a toll on me, as well. As much as I try to control this rage within me, Cynthia’s presence is forcing my demons to resurface. There are moments when I can barely tolerate other human beings around me, and simply looking at Selina makes me feel inadequate and insufficient for a woman like her. I’d thought I’d get away with being part of a trio of men loving her, but if I can’t stand on my own when I’m with her, I’m worthless. Soon enough, she will see it.
The best I can do for the time being is to spend an hour out in the cold, chopping up some firewood. Jason is upstairs, likely coming out of his binge and feeling miserable. Matthew is away, probably running errands. There are snowier days ahead, and we need to be ready. I did ask him to have more logs delivered to the cabin later in the week. Hopefully, they’ll get here before the next blizzard.
My thoughts aren’t good company right now. Selina is up on the slopes, likely skiing on her own or stressing the hell out of an instructor. With Jason currently unavailable and in his current situation, I reckon she wanted to put some distance between them. I’m embarrassed for him, for the three of us. We were supposed to be her knights in shining armor but it turns out we were the fools, obviously. With ghosts of our own, with wounds like ours so quick to reopen, how could we even imagine ourselves capable of rescuing a woman who isn’t even a damsel in distress but rather a gorgeous warrior queen who’s simply fallen on some hard times?
“Knock-knock!” a familiar voice has me gripping the axe a smidge tighter as I turn around and see Lance coming into the backyard, accompanied by Cynthia.
My stomach turns, but I manage to give them both a nod of acknowledgment. “Lance. Cynthia.”
“Sorry for showing up unannounced but we were getting bored,” she says.
Lance raises a six-pack for me to see. “I brought some Belgian brewskis, I figured you’d appreciate them.”
“Thanks.” I straighten my back and put the axe down, despite my itchy palms. I take the gloves off and receive a bottle from the six-pack, then nod at the thick wooden stumps we often use for stools out here. “Make yourselves comfortable.” I look at Cynthia with a furrowed brow. “Why didn’t you two just go into town while you still can? There’s another blizzard coming.”
“We figured we’d hang out here with more familiar faces,” she says, smiling broadly. “You know how Aspen tends to get crowded during this time of the year, blizzard or not. Way too many tourists for my taste.”
That’s a load of bull. I’d like nothing more than to call her out on it, but Lance will feel compelled to step in and defend his woman’s honor. And then I’ll have to beat the crap out of him. He’s innocent in this whole thing. He’s the stooge that Cynthia saw fit to bring around in order to make herself seem innocuous and benign. We know better, but Lance doesn’t. He’s just collateral damage.
“How is your stay here in Aspen so far?” I ask Lance, trying to keep the conversation civil and neutral, even though I can see how persistently Cynthia is staring at me. I deliberately avoid her gaze and focus on Mr. Square Jaw and Baby Blues over here. “I take it you’ve had your fun on the slopes already.”
“Oh, yeah, loving every second of it,” Lance replies. “Skiing, snowboarding, the whole shebang. I didn’t think I’d be so good at it, but my girl here says I’m a natural.”
“Well, you are. It’s rare for a man to have such poise and stability while battling the slippery snow slopes,” she says, laughing lightly. “You have no idea how many brave fellas have tried showing off and ended up getting airlifted from the middle of the southern woods.”
“Thanks, honey.” He shifts his focus back to me. “So, what did you say you do for a living, Sully? I don’t remember that part from our dinner chat.”
“That’s because I never said what I do for a living,” I reply dryly and take a long sip of my beer. Mulled wine would’ve been better in this cold, but anything works to take some of the edge off. “I’m not much of a talker, in general.”
“Sully is a pretty private person,” Cynthia tells him almost lovingly. It makes me sick to my stomach.
