Lacquered Tattoo

Chapter Nine

Tomorrow will be my first day at both of my jobs and with everything settled and ready, I lie in my tub with a book on hand, relaxing. I even thought about bringing in a glass of wine with me but then realized all I have was that one mug that I had bought in the same coffee shop Monroe had taken me to and nothing else. It was too wide to settle on the brim of the tub and I’m not about to spill any of the wine I’d bought from my grocery trip this morning no matter how cheap it is.

In all honesty, I’m not entirely anxious about the next day. At least, it wasn’t as bad as I expected it to be and the topsy-turvy feeling in my stomach I had long since blamed on excitement and nothing else.

It will just make me feel worse if I think negatively and the night before my biggest first day to date was definitely not the best time for a panic attack.

That’s what I kept on repeating to myself as I try to focus on the words swimming in my eyes. No, a grim dark SFF won’t do it for me right now. I needed something softer, a feel-g********l.

Without bothering to wrap myself in a towel – I figured it’ll only take me a quick second to get what I need, so I just settled in drying my hands with a – I stood up from the tub and headed to the pile of books I had placed on the floor beside my bed. I dropped the paperback copy of a Joe Abercrombie on my bed and easily found that one paperback that I felt like reading.

I brought it to my nose and took a sniff.

Ah, the smell of the pages of a new book. Nothing can compare.

Already, I had accumulated a small hill of paperbacks and hardbacks alike. I had brought a few with me from back home but the bookstore I passed by just have quite the selection I couldn’t help but make a purchase or two.

One of them is the copy of this Talia Hibbert one that I lost while packing back in my old apartment. I vowed to buy another one once I got here and couldn’t be more ecstatic to find it front and center displayed on the first bookshop I came across. If that isn’t what you call destiny then I don’t know what is.

I shivered slightly, now regretting not using a towel. The almost transparent blush curtains that I had bought complimented the thick gray one behind it all too well and I couldn’t help but wish to rub my body against it to feel either one’s silkiness or the other’s warmth.

Just as I was about to head back to my bath –– my phone rang from my desk.

Cursing a little, I took a peek to see who it was, thinking it was my aunt since she was the only person whom I’d given my number to except for Monroe (for work reasons, of course), but the number wasn’t registered. It was an international call. Moreover, the country code was from home.

My eyebrows knitted in confusion. I debated whether I should just let it ring or pick it up, but a huge part of me was worried. It might be important. There might be an emergency.

The first person to appear in my head was Louise.

Not hesitating any second more, I grabbed my phone and answered. The voice on the other end of the line seemed familiar, the only doubts that I have was due to the low frequency of the call most probably due to the distance.

But when my name was uttered as a question, I immediately became certain of who it is that I was speaking to and my stomach fell to the ground.

“Cassie,” he breathed and my hold on the phone tightened.

I swallowed one hard lump, not sure I could even say his name without letting out an uneven voice or a pitiful sob. I surprised myself when I almost sounded indifferent.

Almost.

I hated how I knew I was still affected and hurt after I’d just up and decided to move halfway across the world in the middle of nowhere to escape from the anguish.

Then again, no one ever said talking to your first love after the betrayal he did to you would ever be easy.

“Clark.”

The sharp intake of breath on the other side was unmistakable.

I have to admit, it feels quite good to know I wasn’t the only one still hung up on a relationship already doomed by the fates. I was also annoyed that he had the decency to act hurt when it was perfectly clear to me that he was anything but.

If there would be one word to describe him, it should be guilty.

No longer do I feel excited about going back to my relaxing bath as I placed the book I was holding haphazardly back to the pile with the others, then marching stiffly back to the bathroom to grab my towel.

I did not really intend to make this call last another minute, but I am not having this conversation with him naked.

God knows it’ll make me fell more vulnerable.

My skin shivered for another reason apart from the cold.

“Cassie.” There was that familiar tenderness I’ve only ever known from him.

Thumb quickly sliding towards the screen to press end, I halted midway when I heard his abrupt, panicked plea.

“Please don’t hang up.”

Do I really want to do this right now? At the night before my big day?

Suddenly, I was filled with a heaviness in my chest. A sense of foreboding. Before the question even left my trembling lips, I already knew that there could only be one answer and that I’d be hurt once he confirmed it.

“Who told you?”

I told no one where I’d be relocating or that I would even move places, for that matter. I did not want anybody to know because everyone that I knew and that I was close with, he was also friends with.

That’s the understatement of the year but anyhow.

It has nothing to do with who had betrayed me and told him how contact me. That alone was enough proof because I just had this number a few days ago and hadn’t called anyone except…

My phone vibrated and sure enough, my aunt’s name flashed on the screen.

I love Louise but she had no right to do this to me. She’d known how I had been after what Clark did and my emotions are all over the place right now to see reason behind her actions.

Even I have the prerogative to breakdown, especially right at this moment when everyone is seemingly against me.

“Please don’t be mad at her, she was just trying to help.”

Even without me saying it out loud, Clark knew that I had already come with the correct conclusion. I hated that he knew me so well to have known what’s going on in my head.

Clark continued on, “So why don’t you please just hear me out. Give me five minutes – two – to explain. That’s all I need.”

The excessive use of please pisses me off.

He’s nervous, that I can tell. Instead of stuttering, he tends to repeat his words when he is. I wanted to punch myself for remembering that. I’ve always envied that sort of talent of his because it sounded better than tripping over your own words.

Now, I just wished I hadn’t known him all too well.

“One,” I countered, sitting on the bed and wrapping my free arm around my middle.

Louise had stopped calling. I expected her to try again within the length of Clark’s surely prepared speech.

“But – “

“Fifty-eight, fifty-seven…”

“s**t. Okay. It wasn’t what it looks like. I know that sounds like a cliché but really, it’s not what it looks like.”

He’s wasting his time, saying the same phrase twice, but I let him run his mouth.

Soft mouth I used to kiss and caress, enjoyed having on my skin.

His lewd mouth that spewed dirty things to turn me on.

Mouth that had been locked with someone who’s not me.

“Look, just tell me where you are. I’ll come to you. We’ll talk then. This is not a conversation that could be done over the phone. It won’t just take a mere minute to tell you –”

“Stop.”

I couldn’t handle it anymore. He’s about to say it and if I hear it then I’m afraid I’d surrender and reveal my location for him to find me though that was also possible with getting the information through Louise.

Knowing me like he does, he had probably sensed what I was about to do next, his next words were hurried.

“Cassie, please. I still –”

I pulled the phone away from my ear and swiftly ended the call.

Crawling directly underneath my covers, For the life of me, I couldn’t be troubled with the task of dressing myself for bed nor draining the water from the tub; doing my nighttime skin ritual; reading comfortably with a peace of mind; and turning the lights off.

I grabbed my pillow and buried my head underneath it, being swallowed by the dark and completely deaf to the other dreadful call that I knew was the cause of tiny vibrations not far from my feet.

This was the exact opposite way of what I had expected my night to be. I planned everything to the T, and it was all destroyed with a single phone call.

By a single person.

I cried, then cried harder for letting myself cry.

For about an hour or so later when my airway was clogged with phlegm, snot, tears, and saliva, I sat up on my bed with puffy eyes and, after an unfiltered, unconscious, pathetic sob, I decided to clean myself up because tomorrow is another day.