The CEO’s stand-in girlfriend

The truth from a drunk

*Ashley*

My phone rings, slicing through the stillness of the apartment, I put down my book with a sigh having a clear feeling who it will be. I look at the screen; It’s David, assistant and kind off best friend to my boyfriend Lucas, always one or the other calling. I glance at the clock… it is a bit past midnight.

“Ashley,” he says as I pick up, continuing swiftly. “Lucas is at The Black Lantern. He’s had too much to drink. Can you come pick him up before he embarrasses himself?”

I nod, even though he can’t see me and play my part as the devoted girlfriend. “Of course.”

As I hang up, a familiar knot forms in my stomach. Lucas has always had a tendency for drowning his sorrows, as well as spice up his celebrations with whiskey, I have no idea which one it is today and honestly I do not care much.

I grab the keys to my own car, and make my way to the parking garage, walking past Lucas’ sports cars to my own, in comparison, boring Ford SUV and get in.

The ride to the bar is uneventful as the Streets are almost empty, but as I pull into the parking lot, I take a deep breath, getting ready for my performance. I step inside the bar, the dim light illuminating the haze of smoke and laughter. I weave through the crowd, my eyes scanning for Lucas or David.

Then I hear it. The unmistakable sound of Lucas’s voice, slurred yet still mocking, cutting through the rest of the drunken conversations. I pause just outside the private VIP room where he sits, surrounded by his so-called friends, their laughter clear now.

“I mean, look at her, always at my beg and call,” he sneers, oblivious to my presence. “Just a toy to pass the time, really. She won’t leave no matter how hard I push her. It’s almost pathetic, but also a bit fun for me.”

Laughter erupts around him, and my chest tightens till I can’t move. The words seem to hang in the air, mocking me. Each snicker is a jab at me. I feel the color drain from my face, but I force myself to breathe and remind myself that this isn’t about me. It’s about him, about his demons and the person he is, a cold jerk.

With a practiced calm, I push the door open and walk in pretending not to have heard them, putting on my sweetest smile. The laughter dies instantly as all eyes turn toward me. I feel their stares almost like a physical touch, but I refuse to let them see my hurt. Instead, I step forward, my expression sweet and friendly, as if I’m merely a character in a play.

“Lucas,” I say gently, my voice steady. “Honey, it’s time to go home.”

He blinks at me, confusion clouding his eyes. “What are you doing here, Ashley? I don’t need a babysitter,” he slurs, the words thick on his tongue. “David, did you call the wicked b***h?”

I lean down, ignoring the whispers of his friends and the mix of judgment and pity I feel from them. I wrap my arm around his waist, ready to support him. “You’re not in a condition to be out, Lucas. Let’s get you home.”

“Home?” he scoffs, shrugging me off. “What do you care about home? You’re just here for the ride, aren’t you?” His words drip with venom, but I keep my tone soft, my heart steady.

“Come on, let’s go.” I pull at him gently, but he stumbles back, nearly toppling over a low table. The laughter resumes, and I feel the heat of humiliation creep up my neck, but I refuse to let it consume me, I am stronger than that.

“Leave me alone, Ashley. You’re not my mom,” he snaps, but I can see the flicker of vulnerability behind his facade. It’s there, just beneath the surface, and I reach for it, even if he doesn’t see it. “I do not want to go home with you.”

“Lucas,” I say, my voice unnaturally calm. “I’m not going anywhere without you. Let’s just get you out of here.”

He hesitates, his eyes darting around the room, searching for something he seems unable to find. Finally, he relents, his body sagging against mine as I help him to his feet. The weight of him is almost too much, and I consider asking David to help me, but again, I do not want to seem weak.

I manage to get him loaded in the car, and the ride home is silent, save for the occasional grunt or murmur from Lucas as he drifts in and out of sleep. I keep my eyes on the road, the streetlights blurring into streaks of orange and yellow. My mind races, replaying the scene at the bar, his words echoing in my head. ‘Just a toy.’ I mean I know it isn’t love, but that was still harsh.

When we finally arrive, Lucas stumbles inside, and I guide him to his bedroom, again playing the role of supportive girlfriend. He collapses onto the bed, his body a drunken heap of limbs. I watch him for a moment, the rise and fall of his chest, and the way the moonlight spills across his face, casting shadows that mimic the ones lurking in my heart. Then I pull off his shoes and drag a blanket over him.

I sit beside him, the silence stretching out like a taut string between us. My fingers brush against his cheek, the same cheek that resembles Alexander’s… his brother, the man I lost, the love I can never forget. I stroke his skin gently, a gesture of longing and pain, my heart aching with the weight of what could never be.

In this soft light, I let myself feel all the things I’ve buried beneath layers of duty and performance. I wish Lucas did not look so much like Alexander, I wish Lucas was more like Alexander, I wish I could just let Alexander go, but I am not yet ready to do so.

I find comfort in the stillness. I may be just a toy in Lucas’s world, but here, in the depths of night, I can be more. Here, I can hold onto the memory of Alexander, and still play the part I agreed to for Lucas, even if it means pretending to be something I’m not.

And as I sit in the moonlight, I know that one day, the truth will come to light and our charade will crumble, it is a miracle that it has not happened in the last three years. But for now, I’ll keep my secrets close, wrapped in the pretending of being Lucas’ sweet submissive girlfriend, waiting for the moment when they can finally be set free.