The Wrong Wright

CHAPTER 2: Betrayed

CHAPTER 2: Betrayed

“You're doing what you know how to do best. Acting like Saint Emily, but we both know what this is really about.”

My fingers tightened around the photograph. “This has got nothing to do with that.”

She folded her arms under her chest. “If so, how did you know what I was about to say?”

I swallowed heavily.

Hattie and I had a strained relationship right from high school days when the boy I liked chose her over me. She was the pretty younger sister, and I was the bland, almost mousy, blue-eyed older sister. I felt betrayed, and she didn't care. We had never said it out loud, but it made grow apart, and that was when I grew closer to Jackson.

“God! That was several years ago, Hattie. That is irrelevant. We're talking about Jackson's death!”

Hattie nodded. “Okay. Let's talk about that. You're making everything about you, running headfirst into things without thinking. You always do this, Emily. You act like get so fixated on something, and you get obsessed, then you drag everyone into your storm, and then—”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like I’m crazy!” I shot back, the words spilling before I could stop them. “At least I’m doing something!”

I hated how her words were able to get under my skin, how close to the truth she was.

Hattie went quiet, her mouth trembling slightly before she pressed them together.

We stood there in the quiet, just staring at each other, anger and grief blurring together until I couldn’t tell which was which anymore.

Then she said softly, “We’ve already lost enough, Em. Please don’t make me lose you too.”

I knew it was coming from a place of a deep-rooted fear of loss. We lost our parents in an aircrash when we were younger. From that time, we struggled and managed to survive. That tragedy caused my and Hattie’s phobia and dislike for aircrafts. But it didn’t seem to affect Jackson, who had gone and gotten a job at an airstrip. I never liked the idea and tried to dissuade him, all to no avail. He loved his job and insisted, and the rest was history.

I shook my head slowly. “I’m sorry, Hattie. But I can't let this go.”

She ran her hand through her hair. “Come on, Em. You don’t think I loved him too? Jackson was my brother too! Since the day he—” she couldn't bring herself to say it, and took a deep breath. “Since the day he died, there's no day that I don't think of him, that I don't miss him. But I have to move on… we have to move on… because that is what people do… The only thing we can do. Someone has to be the adult here!” her voice hardened and turned up a notch. “Someone has to keep the lights on while you run off to Jett every time you can’t handle life!”

We rounded back to the issue of Jett. Hattie had never hidden the fact that she disliked my boyfriend. They never got along, but I didn’t mind. I loved Jett, and he made me forget how shitty my life was whenever we were together.

I stared at her, heat flooding my cheeks. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s true,” she replied, voice sharp. “You know I'm right, Emily. You cling to him like he’s the only thing holding you together. Yet, that f*****g asshole didn’t even show up today, Em. Your boyfriend couldn’t even bother to show up at your brother’s funeral.”

The words hit harder than I wanted to admit. Jett had promised me that he would be here today. I remembered looking in the direction of the door each time I heard someone arrive.

I turned away before my sister could see my face. “He probably got held up. You don’t know him like I do.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, Em, I know enough. That guy is selfish. He doesn't even deserve you. And he isn't the one to fix your life for you. ”

“I didn’t ask him to!”

She threw her hands up in surrender. “You didn’t have to.” Her tone softened, just slightly. “Em, please… let it go. We can’t afford to dig into this. You’ll just hurt yourself. We're all that we have. It's just us now.”

I dropped the photograph on the table, and grabbed my coat, my lips quivering, my hands trembling. “I’m not asking for your permission.”

She was immediately worried. “Where are you going?”

“To talk to Jett,” I said, voice cold. “At least he listens.”

“Emily—”

“Don't wait up.” And with that, I was already halfway out the door, slamming it before she could finish.

*****

The evening air was damp, the kind that clung to your clothes. The smell of sea and salt mingled with the air and clung heavily to my nose. Wrapping my coat around myself, I pulled my phone from my pockets, and switched it on.

The phone buzzed. It was a message from Jett that morning, still unread. “I’ll be there, baby. Promise.”

He wasn’t. He never came.

And though Hattie’s words continued to ring in my ears, I shoved it down, and continued making my way to Jett's place. He loved me. He was the only one that understood me. He would understand and support me.

By the time I reached his house, my heart was thudding so hard I could feel it in my throat. His car was parked out front, and the lights were still on. He was home.

Something must have made him not attend Jackson's funeral. Maybe he suddenly came down with a flu. Maybe he was inside, upset. Maybe he just couldn’t face me today.

I walked up the steps, trying to steady my breathing. When I reached the window, I peeked through the half-closed blinds to see if I could catch movement inside the house, and then, the world stopped.

Jett was there. So was a woman. A woman who was riding him like her life; both their lives depended on it.

Her long blonde hair spilled over her very naked back that arched as he pushed his waist up, shoving deeper into her. I watched with a splintering heart and wide eyes as he kissed her like he used to kiss me, greedy, familiar, cruelly gentle, while they moved in a lewd frantic rhythm. From the look on his face, I knew he was about to come. The next moment, he began to convulse, head thrown back and eyes tightly shut.

Something inside me shattered, quietly.

I froze. My mind screamed to look away, but my body didn’t listen. Her face turned slightly toward me, and though her eyes were tightly shut, and her lips were parted as she rode him through his o****m, I saw her face. Pretty. Perfect. And unfamiliar. Someone I’d never seen before. Unable to watch anymore, I backed away from the window, and hurried down the stone steps, my heart breaking, and my tears creating a path on my face.

I stilled and my eyes trailed to the phone in my hand. I turned around, and went back to the window. With trembling fingers, I raised the phone, positioning it at the c***k between the blinds. One picture. One click. A sick kind of proof. He might try to deny it. One thing I was sure of: I was done with Jett. But I still wanted to show him proof of his betrayal.

The flash didn’t go off. Thank God. They were so deep in each other that they didn't even notice me. They didn’t hear me.

I turned and walked away, numb. The gravel crunched beneath my shoes. I was trembling so hard, it hurt to breathe. My tears blinded my vision. I didn’t even know where I was going.

By the time I realised that I had reached the Main Street, I didn’t even remember walking there. There was a flash from the headlights of the speeding oncoming vehicle. The car was coming straight at me. It was too late when I realised that I was in the middle of the road.