The Virgin Ceremonies Ch 16

Chapter 16

Brent: Lovers' Quarrel

I bent down and picked up the shattered phones. I answered mine and brought it to my ear.

"Hello?" Then I brought her phone to my other ear and said, "Hi, this is Ginny's friend Brent. Is this Beau? I was just wondering if you'd take Ginny's call." I switched phones. "No, Brent. She broke my heart and my phone into a thousand pieces, so I'd rather not take her call at the moment." I switched phones again. "Beau, she's very insistent. She's looking at me right now, just completely shocked you even answered. Please, for her?" I switched phones one last time. "Put her on."

I held her phone out to her. She dragged her hands away from her face, uncovering her mouth, and took her phone back. She was shaking. She wasn't in the mood to play and ended the call. "I knew it was you. Somehow, I knew."

"Oh, really?"

"I wanted it to be you. I was really starting to like you. I even thought it was you, but I told myself I was insane. You were gay."

"And if you'd known I was hetero, would you have cheated on Beau with me too?"

"Brent, I'm not the villain here. All this time, you've lied to me."

"I tried to tell you, but you didn't want to know, did you? You wanted to keep me in the shadows, and you did."

"But you're angry at me for keeping my secret about Tom and you've been keeping this? Lying to my face? Messing with my head?"

"Don't try to compare my lie to yours. I lied to get close to you. You lied to use me."

"I didn't use you, Brent. God, this feels so weird, and I feel so stupid right now. You've been in front of me the whole time."

"You're the one who walked into my cafe. If I'd told you who I was on day one, you would've run out, wouldn't you?"

She was staring at my face like she was seeing me for the first time. "Yes, probably. But I would have run back in eventually."

"Why do I doubt that?" I said.

I stepped away from her, sitting down on the park bench, my elbows on my knees. She came and sat beside me, looking at the side of my face.

"You're handsome," she said.

"Oh, come on."

"You are," she said. "I'm happy it's you. I was really crushing on you, and I thought on more than one occasion, too bad he's gay, because he's a catch."

I grabbed my face in frustration, sitting up. "Would you stop flirting with me? You're engaged, Ginny!"

"I know. Will you come to the hotel with me? We need to talk, but not here, not in public."

"Because I'm in the shadows, and that's where I'll always be?"

"Don't make me answer that. Please, come with me."

"Why? Nothing we say makes a difference," I said. "I just want to go home and get over you."

It was her turn to shock me. She knelt down in front of me, on one knee first, then on two, right between my legs. I sat back.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm begging you, pleading with you, please come to the hotel with me. Let me explain."

"You still want me to come, knowing who I am?"

"This isn't about who you are. It's about the truth. I am humiliating myself right now, on my knees in Central Park, feeling more exposed than you could imagine now that I know who you are. One picture of me on my knees in front of you, and my life is nuked, you get it? That's what this means to me. So, I'm begging, please come back with me."

I stared at her. I was still so hurt and angry, but I had to hear her out, and God, did I love her. I stood up and pulled her to her feet. She nervously looked around at those eyes she had drawn. I saw a man with a camera on the terrace, taking pictures of the angel. I hoped he didn't snap a picture of us together. We were on thin ice now. If her aunt found out we were together, it would be bad. I would have to warn her before the night was through.

"I'll meet you at the hotel."

"Come with me."

"I need to make sure my grandmother is fed and settled in. She can put herself to sleep, but she's not so good at making food. And I have to walk Max."

"Can I come with you?" she asked.

"My apartment would embarrass me about as much as you just embarrassed yourself."

"Then we'll be even."

"My grandmother doesn't do well with strangers. She gets confused and angry. I'll come to the hotel soon."

"You promise?"

"I promise. Give me 30 minutes."

"Okay."

We walked out of Central Park together, neither of us talking, each taking glances at each other. Hers were longer, studying me. I wished I could have taken her hand or talked about something else that wasn't looming over us. Instead, we burned in the silence.

Back on the street, she nervously looked around. She always seemed to think someone was watching her. To live with so much paranoia, I couldn't imagine. She hailed a cab and gave me a look of trepidation before getting in. "30 minutes?"

"30 minutes."

"Room 1012 again. I asked for the same. The key is under 'Beau.'"

"Bye, Ginny."

"No byes. See you soon."

"See you soon."

She left and I returned home. I found Grandma confused and trying to open a soup can. I helped her and spent 15 minutes trying to convince her I was her grandson. After she was fed, I set her up with her TV and took Max for a quick walk. He wasn't too happy about a short stroll around the block, but I gave him some extra food and a little deli meat as a treat.

Afterward, I splurged on a cab. I had no mental energy to negotiate the bus or subway. The driver left me outside the hotel, and the concierge held me up while she looked for the key. Finally, I made it up to the room, but I decided against using the key. I knocked. Ginny opened the door.

"You came," she said, holding the door wide for me.

"I said I would."

I passed her, looking around. There were rose petals in a bowl on the table and a few on the floor. She'd staged the room for us but then cleaned it up, I assumed, before it all went to hell.

"Thank you," she said. "I know how upset you are."

I sat on the edge of the sofa, leaning forward, not looking at her. "So, have your say," I said.

"First, can you make me a promise?"

Her phone suddenly rang. She looked at the cracked screen.

"Damn it, it's my mom. Let me text her." She declined the call and then sent a text message. "Just telling her I'm out with my friends and we'll talk tomorrow. I'll text Quinn too, tell her to cover for me. Okay, phones off," she said, turning it off. "Will you turn yours off too?"

I took out my smashed phone and held the power button until it turned off. I dropped it on the coffee table without much thought.

"I'm sorry I broke it," she said.

"So, what's this promise you want? What more do I need to do to earn your trust? Am I such an untrustworthy person?"

"Hey, now, be fair to me," she said. "You've lied too."

"Yes, I have. Like I said, I lied to be with you. You lied to be with someone else."

She took a deep breath. "I want you to promise you won't storm out, that you'll stay."

"For how long?"

"Until we've sorted it out, one way or another. I don't want you to leave until we've both said everything."

"Fine," I said impatiently, leaning back on the sofa, my legs spread.

"What is this posture?" she asked, stepping closer. "Do you hate me now?"

I sat up. "You ripped my heart out when you said yes to him. If you'd said no, we'd have something to fix here. It's over now, Ginny. It's completely ruined."

"It's not, not if you talk to me."

"Talk about what? Do you want to invite me to your wedding, to serve your guests champagne, to toast your health?"

"Hey, you know what?" she said. "You don't get a monopoly on indignation. All this time, you played with my head as Brent while talking to me as Beau. You made love to me, and then the next morning, you served me coffee and chatted with me like I was a stranger. How do you think that makes me feel, knowing I was vulnerable with you and you were laughing at me?"

"You think I was laughing? I never wanted to wear the mask, Ginny. You insisted on it. And I was sworn to secrecy by your aunt, which is another topic I haven't even gotten to yet. And after we made love all night, I tried to tell you, but you didn't want to know. You wanted me to keep wearing the mask, and then you wanted the big reveal tonight. Well, surprise."

"Okay, fine, but you lied to my face, told me you were gay, so you could manipulate me."

"Fine, yes, I did," I said, meeting her eyes. "I guess that makes me a real asshole. So, what does that make you, knowing you lied to me about all that exclusive shit? 'I promise, just you and me.' Yeah, right."

"It makes me a disloyal bitch," she said. "I know that. That's why I begged you to come tonight, so I can plead my case. I don't want to lose you, Brent."

"It's too late for that."

"It's not if you just listen. My family, we're fucked up, okay? You of all people know that. Did you know that Tom--"

"Your fiance."

"Yes, Tom, my fiance, he's my cousin, second cousin, once removed."

"What?"

"Why do you think his family and mine are so friendly, why our moms are so close, why they were at a party for my grandma? We're all extended family."

"They all know about your ceremony?"

"No. Men are never involved. Tom's mother, Matilda, was invited, but she didn't attend, thank God. Tom's father married into this, and Tom took his last name. Did you ever wonder why I had my mother's last name? Same with Quinn. Women in my family always take the Duclark name, because we pass down our wealth and our ceremony. If Tom and I had a daughter, she's a Duclark. If we had a son, he'd be a Lionel."

"Oh, nice, you've started family planning with your fiance."

"I'm explaining," she said angrily. "I'm trying to make you understand how my family does it, and why I said yes to Tom. We marry wealthy people in our circle, those we know and trust. Tom and I were a match since we were in diapers. I have pictures of him kicking me off the slide, shoving me off the swings, pulling me off the seesaw. I hated his guts growing up because he was a bully."

"And yet..."

"And yet our parents kept pushing us together. He was my first boyfriend, my first kiss because our parents arranged it. We have broken up so many times, and every single time, I got a lecture from my parents, that I had to fix it, that it was my fault, that whatever happened, I needed to apologize. And he got the same talk from his parents, that he needed to do better with me, that he needed to listen, treat me with respect, not screw other girls because I won't give him sex. It's no secret in the Duclark family women don't sleep around before they're married. That's the world I'm coming from, okay?"

"Was Tom your first?" I asked.

"What?" she said.

"You said he was your first: first boyfriend, first kiss, first fiance. Was he your first time?"

"You were my first time, doofus."

"So, you never slept with him?"

She held her breath, closing her eyes. "Okay, yes, I did."

"Oh, wow," I said, standing up from the sofa. "When? Last night?"

"No, jerk," she said. "Weeks ago. Let me explain."

"And here I was starting to argue with myself, she said yes because she had to, not because she was trampling my heart."

"I did say yes because I had to. And trampling your heart is the last thing I want to do. I had sex with him to get over you, because I was obsessed with you after my ceremony. I thought we'd never see each other again."

"You could've seen me again though, if you'd bothered to look for me."

"Okay, don't throw that in my face. I regret not finding you sooner, but I don't have the freedom you do. Don't stand there like you're the wounded puppy, and I'm the evil bitch who kicked you and didn't love you. I did love you. I still do. I just didn't know how to be brave enough to chase you. And I get it now: you said Bethesda in that cafe to remind me, to mock me, because you were hurt."

"Hell, yes, I was hurt!" I shouted. "Every day I waited for you. I was so convinced what we had was real!"

"It was real! I didn't get over you!"

"You did enough to sleep with your fiance."

"What was I supposed to do? Love a memory for the rest of my life, be celibate while I dreamt of you? The ceremony was supposed to be over, the end. So don't act like it was wrong of me to sleep with Tom. I was trying to move on with my life."

"But you never even tried to find me. If I hadn't put in the effort, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. I made this happen, not you."

"What do you want me to say? You're stronger than me? You are. You're braver than me? You are. You love me more? No, you don't, because right now, when it counts, I'm here, fighting for us, while you're trying to condemn me for my past."

I stepped away from her. I was so angry and hurt, I didn't want to forgive her. But she was right. "When did you sleep with him?"

"A week before I ever got your postcard," she said to my back. "And it was awful. If anything, it made me love you more, appreciate you more, because I realized Tom and I could never have anything as amazing as you and I had."

I didn't reply, just stared at the dark windows.

"Talk to me," she said. "You can't condemn me for this."

"I'm not. Fine. It was before we were together. But I'm really fucking jealous. I don't want to share you."

"I don't want to share you either," she said softly.

"Just the once, before we reconnected?" I asked, turning around. She didn't answer. I stared at her. I slid a hand through my hair. "What else?"

"The day we reconnected, I was really struggling with it, trying to decide if I should meet you. Quinn was warning me that meeting you was like a nuclear explosion, that you would derail my life. I was trying to decide, stay or go. And then Tom came over to my place."

My neck pulled back. "You had sex with him the same day you had sex with me?"

"No," she said quickly. "But I wanted to at the time. I wanted to give him another chance to make me happy, as happy as you made me, but all he wanted was a blowjob. He finished before we ever had sex."

"Fuck..." I said, putting a hand over my face, turning back to the windows. "So, you sucked his dick, and then you came here, sucked mine, and made love to me?"

"I messed up, okay? I knew what was going to happen when you and I met. I was trying to stop myself from making a mistake, to salvage my life with Tom, to either commit to him or cheat on him. So, yes, I gave him a blowjob, and I knew the moment he finished, he would never satisfy me, that I'd never be happy with him, that I needed you."

I shook my head, turning around. "And since then?"

"Nothing since then, not after our night together. I swear to God I've been 100% loyal to you."

"What?" I said. "You're going to lie to my face? Are you serious?"

"It's the truth."

"I saw you kissing him at the party, Ginny! That's what you call loyal?"

"Damn it, no, okay, that's not fair. He kissed me."

"Oh, come on!"

"He did! I was just frozen. He proposed, which I had no idea was going to happen, and I had to say yes. I couldn't embarrass him in front of everyone. It would've humiliated both of our families. And it's not like I could just push him away when he kissed me. I haven't kissed him since or before or anything."

"This is insane," I said, shaking my head. "You're engaged."

"And I'm going to end it. I just couldn't do it that night. You won't believe me, but I was planning to break up with him after that party. Give me some time, and I'll end it quietly after the holidays, when the family gatherings die down. He can say whatever he wants, make up any lie he wants. My parents will be furious, but I don't care anymore. I can't be with a man like that."

"So, what man can you be with? It's not me. I'm still a weekly cheat on your diet of approved lovers."

"You're not being fair."

"Oh, stop saying that, Ginny. Fuck fair. Life may be fair when you're rich, but it's not fair when you're down here in the gutter. So, why are you torturing me? Why are you torturing yourself? What's the fucking point if we can never be together?"

"I don't know, okay! I don't have the answers! But I can't walk away from you. I love you too much."

"You're going to have to walk away someday though, aren't you? That's the truth, isn't it? We're short term."

"I don't know, Brent. I'm living in the moment with you, week to week, and it's terrifying. If you want me to tell you there's some master plan for our lives where we get a happy ending, I can't tell you that. I don't know what will happen. All I know is when we're together, even right now while we're at our lowest, I'm happy and I'm in love."

I moved around the room, thinking.

"Tell me what you're thinking," she said.

"You know your aunt knows all about us, right?" I said.

"What do you mean?" she said, squinting.

"You don't remember her coming into the cafe?"

"Wait, so..." She shook her head. "Oh, my God! That's right, she hired you. She knows you're Beau. And she knows we're talking?"

"Yes," I said. "She said she looked at your phone records."

Ginny iced over. She collapsed on the sofa. "Oh, no. Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, you're right. I should have put my feelings aside and first addressed your fucked up family drama."

"God, Brent," she said, holding her mouth. "What else does she know? What did she say to you? What did you say to her?"

"I told her we were just friends, that you didn't know I was Beau. It was true at the time. But she still wanted our relationship over. Why do you think I was at that party? She hired me and Colin because she wanted me to see you get engaged, to show me that we're impossible. And afterward, she told me if I talked to you again, she'd ruin my life."

"Damn it. I found out after the party that my family was all in on the surprise engagement, but she didn't say anything about you to me. It's weird. Why didn't she tell my mom or warn me to back off? Oh, God, she's being sneaky. What do I do?"

"Look at you, Ginny, you're a wreck. You can't keep this a secret. It was silly to think you could."

"Would you rather I never tried?" she said.

"No. I'm happy it happened, but I know it has to end."

"Don't say that. We can still make it work. My aunt doesn't know everything. She probably thinks she fixed it. If we don't see each other at the cafe again, if I get a second phone, we can still be together."

I rubbed my face in frustration and sat down next to her on the sofa. She put her hand on my knee.

"Brent..."

"Ginny, if we're being honest, there's something else I need to tell you."

She looked cautious. "Okay?"

"Olivia gave me a blowjob."

Her eyes were wild. Her breath caught in her throat. "You're joking."

"No. It was part of my interview before she hired me for your ceremony."

"Oh, my God." She took her hand off my knee.

"And she had me eat her out."

"What? I can't believe this. Did you have sex with her?"

"No, only oral sex. She said she was loyal to her husband."

She looked at the floor.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"This must be why she didn't confront me. She wanted to destroy our relationship first, so you wouldn't say anything about this to me."

"I guess."

"I'm really pissed off now."

"It was before I knew you," I said. "I was just, I don't know, desperate for a change in my life."

"I didn't mean at you. At her. She took advantage of you." She breathed a few times, running her hand through her hair. "Damn it. I hate that she did that, but it doesn't change how I feel about you. I still want this. Don't you?"

"I do, but it's just another reason we can't be together. Your family won't let us. You won't let us."

"Can't we just try for a little while? This is so hard for me, Brent. I'm on the knife's edge, but I'm willing to walk the tightrope for you, because you're the most amazing man I've ever met, because I love everything about you."