Inappetence
November 27th, 2015 - Pennington Estate
Roman’s eyes flitted around the dinner table, taking note of not only the peaceful atmosphere his family could create, but also the new addition. Her name was Erica, or as Uriah had called her the many times he’s talked about her to his family, Rikki. Despite the rule of keeping holidays exclusive to just family in the Pennington household, Uriah brought over his girlfriend for Thanksgiving. As all of the Penningtons knew, Uriah and Rikki had been together since their Junior year of high school. After 6 years, he finally managed to invite her over for a family holiday. However, her presence would come with a price.
This treachery made it back to Cecil Pennington within two minutes of Rikki stepping inside the Pennington Estate. While Cecil wasn’t able to attend Thanksgiving this year, that didn’t mean he couldn’t see what was happening all over his home– the man had eyes everywhere. The minute he heard the news from the tattling butler, he was exiting the Pennington-Sinclair Enterprises Tower and retreating to his car. He made it back home in record time.
Inside the dining room of the estate, calm, civil discussion took place as Blythe got to know the woman Uriah claimed would be her daughter-in-law. The twin teenagers, Rosalie and Roman, bickered beside one another– quietly, of course– lest they wish to be scolded by their mother. And while the twins argued over personal space, the youngest Pennington, Sebastian, sat across from them and watched silently. From the outside looking in, most would say this looked like a normal family dinner. And for the time being, it was.
Catching the whispered curses Roman was throwing at his sister, Uriah broke out of the conversation with his girlfriend and his mother. “Roman,” he called out, soft enough that their mother couldn’t hear, but enough to garner his brother’s attention. The former paused his argument and turned to listen to Uriah. “What’s wrong? What are you two doing?”
“She won’t move over. Her elbow keeps bumping into me-”
Rose was swift with her retort. “Maybe you should scoot over then, fat ass. Your leg keeps hitting mine anyway-”
“You are the last person who should call someone a fat ass, Rose-”
“You are-”
“Screw you. I’m not fat-”
“Mhm, says the one who cleans out the snack cabinet-”
“That’s because I have to reach it before you do. And you should stop eating all that chocolate because it’s making you break out-”
“I can’t help it. It’s all I want when I’m on my period-”
“Yeah, I fucking tell-”
Forcibly, Roman’s chair screeched against the floor as it was pulled to the right by Uriah’s foot, separating the bickering duo. He groaned and began trying to move away from Uriah, but it was no use– Uriah was quick to stop him.
“What is so wrong with sitting close to me?” Uriah noticed Roman’s face begin to turn red with his rising anger. “Jeez, don’t get so bent out of shape about it.”
“You eat with your left hand. I’m not trying to bump elbows with you through dinner.” While puberty wasn’t treating either of the twins nicely, it seemed to have affected Roman more, making him more temperamental than before. Having gone through the same thing a couple of years ago, Uriah tried to be as empathetic as possible, but the situation was still a bit funny.
“I’ll eat with my right hand tonight, okay? Now, chill out.”
“Yeah, chill out, Roman,” Sebastian added, worsening the matter tenfold.
“Shut up, you little shit,” Roman snarled across the table, making Sebastian’s eyes light up with excitement.
“Ooo, you said a bad word-”
“Sebastian, shut up. And Roman, stop being so edgy.” Uriah doled out the scolds like it was second nature. “And Rose… stop being a rat.”
Rosalie scoffed and turned herself the opposite way from her family, wishing the night would end sooner so she could go back to her room. And after a few more minutes, when the front door harshly shut, everyone went completely silent, and Rose wasn’t the only one who wanted to get away from the dinner table and retreat to their rooms. The sound of those eerily familiar footsteps stepping through the estate foyer drew closer, until, finally, Cecil Pennington made his entrance.
Even Rikki went silent and felt that chill run up her spine. Though not a Pennington, she knew the extent of the cruelty of Cecil Pennington. Uriah made sure she was well aware before allowing her to set foot inside this place. The only one at the dinner table who could even pretend they were completely okay was Blythe. She didn’t hesitate to greet her husband.
“My love, I thought you said you’d be working tonight?” Blythe cooed, beckoning Cecil closer toward the table.
Her calm disposition in the face of such a horrible man always made Uriah’s skin crawl. Though he knew this behavior from his mother wasn’t her own form of damage control– no, the woman had been brainwashed into thinking Cecil deserved to be loved, still, he couldn’t bring himself to hate her for it. She didn’t know any better with those rose-tinted glasses on.
“I was supposed to be,” Cecil began, unfeeling green eyes sliding toward Rikki, and then to Uriah. “But then I was informed of this.” He gestured toward Rikki with a sneer. “Why is she here?”
“Knowing you weren’t going to be here, I invited her,” Uriah answered cautiously.
“Interesting…” He looked Rikki over, not holding back the judgment in his eyes. “We have a rule, sweetheart. Holidays are for families only-”
He continued to leer at her while Uriah jumped to her defence. “We’ve been together for six years. She is practically family already-”
“She doesn’t bear my last name, therefore, she is not my family.” Slowly, his gaze flipped to Uriah, just as cold as ever. “When I said keep your whores behind closed doors, I meant your bedroom door. I don’t want to see this at my dinner table-”
“Fuck you.”
Surprisingly, that snarling retort came from none other than Erica, who began feeling like she could hold her own against Cecil. Once more, the entire room went silent. After a few seconds, Cecil began chuckling, finding her audacity rather humorous.
“Roman, take Rose and Sebastian upstairs,” Uriah ordered, giving his younger brother a nudge, but never taking his eyes off their father.
With Roman feeling the rising tension in the dining room, he stood from his chair, grabbed Sebastian’s hand, and trailed up to their rooms. While Rose broke off from her siblings to go to her own room, Roman stayed beside his younger brother, even taking him into Sebastian’s room to play with his stupid toy cars.
After a few minutes, the shouting from downstairs became too loud; it eventually drifted up to Sebastian’s bedroom. The siblings paused their mini Grand Prix to listen in on the argument. But when Roman heard a scream, he knew better than to keep listening in on it. He pulled out his phone to distract his brother.
“We should listen to music.” The eldest suggested as he opened the internet to search for something they’d both like.
“Oh, Roman! Play that one I like!”
“How am I supposed to know what that is, dumbass?” he grumbled, scrolling through his saved music.
“It’s that one about chocolate! Those girls sing it! But I don’t know what they’re saying.”
“Dude, I have no idea what you’re talking about-”
“You played it that one time! It starts with that robot. He says, “Give me chocolate.” As Roman realized what Sebastian was talking about, he began laughing, but pulled the song up anyway. “Yes! This is it!”
“If you tell anyone you know this song from me, I’ll kick your ass.”
The two listened to music late into the night, and only when Sebastian fell asleep did Roman finally leave his room. When he stepped out into the hallway, he noticed he no longer heard the sounds of screams and shouts, but still, they were arguing. He knew better than to go down there, getting caught by his father would be the worst thing that could happen, but Roman was curious. Silently, he crept down the stairs and followed the sound of muffled bickering, finding that it was now coming from Cecil’s study.
The door was still open, just enough that he was able to see what was happening inside. He should’ve stayed upstairs because the sight beyond the door was something Roman would always remember. Of course, he always saw his father as a harsh man. However, he had never before thought of him as a psychopath.
Inside, he held Rikki in his hands, her back pressed to his chest, her face welted and wet with tears. The most startling thing was the knife Cecil was holding firmly against her neck, speaking in a low tone to Uriah, who sat on the couch in front of them, equally as distressed as his girlfriend. On the coffee table between them, there was a paper, and in Uriah’s trembling hand was a pen.
“You can have both, or you can have neither. Which will you choose?”
“I don’t understand. I’ve been with her for 6 years, Cecil. Erica has never impacted work-”
“She never used to show up to family holidays either. Things change, apparently. Now you get to choose: family, or your girlfriend?”
“There is no choice here, you bastard. You just want me to be miserable-”
“Choose now before I choose for you.”
Before he could hear Uriah’s answer, Roman felt a light tapping on his shoulder, making him gasp silently as he glanced back, finding Rose behind him.
“What’s hap-”
Roman put his finger to his lips and led Rose away from the situation in the office. When they were out of earshot, Roman whispered, “Dad is fucking crazy-”
But while the duo was out of earshot of their father, their mother was lurking in the kitchen, downing another glass of wine. When she heard the curse leave Roman’s lips, she called them into the kitchen with searing anger.
“What did you say?” she seethed, stumbling toward Roman. It was then that the two noticed the fresh bruise marring their mother’s face.
Disregarding her question, Roman raised his hand, brushing his finger over the outer curve of his mother’s swollen cheek. “You let him hit you?”
“He didn’t hit me,” she slurred, batting Roman’s hand away. “He’s not like that-”
“Bullshit, he’s holding a knife to Rikki’s neck– the man is fucking crazy-”
Blythe, having heard enough of her son’s foul language, raised her hand and slapped him across the cheek.
“Don’t speak ill of your father. He’s got a sick mind, and we’re working on it. Comply with what he wants, that way you won’t have a knife to your necks, too,” she offered that last piece of advice before drunkenly stumbling toward the steps, leaving her two middle children to come to the realization together that the Pennington family was way too fucked up.
“A-Are you okay?” Rose asked, worry creasing her eyes as she looked at the growing red spot on his cheek.
“I’m fine. Let’s just… go to bed before Dad sees us out here.”
-Poppy-
Stepping back inside PSE today was different– the atmosphere I knew from before was gone, replaced now with a tension that far surpassed what I’d grown comfortable with. The bustling lobby I’d come to know was quiet, and the top floor was just the same. The cheery smiles and warm greetings had been put to rest the day Cecil Pennington came back, but at least there was still life in the building. Today, it just felt like a ghost town.
I knew there had to be a reason behind it, so rather than prying at Wesley for the dirty details of what took place in my absence, I grabbed the correspondence from the secretary’s desk and began my morning work routine. Sorting out the unimportant envelopes, I tossed them out and ventured down the hall to Cecil’s office. Despite my trepidation to see the man again, I had to admit I was ready to throw myself back into work. After just a week away, I was missing my schedule.
And that had everything to do with the absolute lack of schedule I’ve had all week. By lack of schedule, I mean no planning– and by no planning, I mean there were no plans. A trip that Charlie advertised to me as a beautiful getaway with a chance to see the cherry blossoms in bloom turned into a week-long retreat in a house. Well, a week-long retreat in the house for Charlie. I, on the other hand, got to experience just a brief taste of my dream destination with a guide named Usami.
He was nice, and while he did make me feel safe, experiencing it all by myself was nerve-wracking. So, after the first few days of trying to take advantage of the trip, I followed in Charlie’s footsteps and stayed at the house.
I didn’t even get to see the cherry blossoms. Usami offered, but I turned him down. It didn’t feel as special if it meant going to see them with a total stranger. I wanted to see them with Charlie. More than Charlie, I wanted to see them with Roman. He would have made the whole experience much more fun, I’m sure. After coming to that depressing realization, the rest of my trip was spent holding back tears.
Hence, my excitement to get back to work. Working meant I didn’t have time to worry about my stupid emotions. The only pitfall to coping this way, having to see Roman. And if I wasn’t seeing Roman in person, I was seeing Cecil– and there wasn’t anything else I could think of besides Roman when I looked at him. They were nearly identical, save for the obvious age gap.
Just as I mustered up the courage to face him again and the thoughts he spurred on of his son, a hand clamped down on my wrist and began pulling me away from Cecil’s office. My eyes met those of a very distraught-looking Cassie.
“Hey. What’s wrong?”
“He’s in a terrible mood. Has been since you and Roman left. I just… just brace yourself for the worst, okay? He’s in a phone conference right now, but-” Through the thin walls of PSE, Cecil’s voice rang out as he shouted at someone over the phone. Cassie forced a laugh and pulled me toward Roman and Malakai’s office. “Since we have time, we can talk for a bit. How was your trip?”
The office door softly shut behind her after she ushered me inside. “Uhm… it was good.”
“You don’t sound so sure.”
The guilt for bashing a trip Charlie took the time to plan made my stomach swirl. “Well, Japan is super pretty. And so was the house, but I don’t speak the language, so it was difficult.”
“I thought you had a guide.”
“Oh, we did. I just didn’t go out much, that’s all.”
She looked at me with an uncertain glint in her eyes but didn’t question further. “Alright. As long as you had fun, that’s all that matters.”
“I did! It was fun. Super fun.” Still, she didn’t seem to believe me, so instead of giving her the time to question me about it, I asked, “Did Roman say when he’s coming back?”
Cassie gave me a sad smile, obviously seeing right through the front I was trying to portray. “Malakai said he’s still working on the acquisition. Terra-Ventures is giving him a hard time, and so are the PSE employees. Hard to say when he’ll be back-”
“Who?” a familiar voice asked from the entrance of the office. “Oh, Poppy! I didn’t realize you were going to be back today,” Malakai excitedly exclaimed. “How was your trip?”
“Fine.”
He tilted his head to the side, eyes dancing over my features before he straightened out again. “You sure-?”
“Yes! The trip was fun, but I really want to stop talking about it.” Maybe my cheerful tone sounded a little too forced, but I couldn’t help it. “Let’s talk about Roman– how is he? Cassie said you talked to him.”
His smile faltered slightly, eyes darting toward the woman behind me before settling on me again. “Briefly. He’s good.”
“Is he busy? I should probably call him and tell him I’m back-”
“No, don’t do that!” Malakai interjected as I reached for my cell phone in my pocket. “He is busy. Very busy.”
I swallowed back the rising lump in my throat and nodded, pulling my hand away from my pocket. “Yeah, you’re right. Shouldn’t bother him.” Despite how desperate I felt vying for his attention, I couldn’t help it. I just wanted to talk to him– at this point, I’d even take an argument over radio static silence. “When you talk to him next, can you tell him to call me? When he has free time, of course. It’s nothing urgent.”
Hesitantly, he acquiesced to my request. “Sure.”
“Thanks.” I forced a smile. “Well, I should probably get back to work-”
“You know, Lani and Paola have been wanting to see you. Lani won’t stop talking about it. Cassie, you’re meeting up with them, aren’t you? This weekend, right?”
“Oh, right. Yes,” Cassie affirmed. “You should come with us, Poppy. We’re… uh– well, we don’t have it planned out yet, but we’re definitely hanging out.”
“Okay, sure. Thanks, Cass.” I knew it was a pity invite, but at least it would beat my alternative plan of sleeping through the weekend to make it go by faster. “I’ll see you both later.”
Just as I stepped into Cecil’s office, the sound of the phone slamming against the base made me jolt in surprise. If he had added any more force behind that, he would have shattered the plastic. Cassie wasn’t kidding when she said he was in a bad mood, but he didn’t need to take it out on the poor phone.
When he realized I was standing in his office, he sighed in relief. “Good. You’re back.”
“Yes. Good morning, Mr. Pennington-”
“This place has been a mess without you here. I don’t know how you understand that godforsaken file room, and that damn pansy at the secretary’s desk is a real fool! He didn’t understand it either so I had to go in there to find one, single, fucking report. It’s a jumbled mess in there now! Go fix it! And you aren’t leaving until it’s done, got it?!”
Upon stepping into the file room, I realized Cecil and I had different definitions of a mess. The state this room was left in was a fucking disaster. Filing cabinet drawers were pulled from their slots, folders ripped from various shelves, reports and documents scattered everywhere– there wasn’t a spot on the floor that wasn’t blanketed in at least one piece of paper.
“Definitely not leaving today,” I muttered to myself before kneeling to grab the papers that were in front of me. Glancing over the first, I skimmed the subject of the report, moving on to the next to see that it had nothing to do with the first. Which meant that none of these reports and documents were in any semblance of order anymore. “Fuck me.”
By the time the work day was over, I barely made a dent in the massive disarray of the file room. I only left once to use the bathroom before starting the grueling process again. My back, my knees, my arms– my entire body was sore from bouncing around the room to put it back together.
“Still not done?” Cecil’s gruff voice called from the entrance of the file room. “This is why he called you useless– you’re so fucking slow.”
I swallowed back my retort and settled with an apology. “Sorry, sir-”
“Whatever. You’ll stay until it’s finished. It better be pristine when I come in tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I mean it, Cantrell. I come in at seven, so you better hurry up. At this rate, you’ll only be half done in the morning.”
“With all due respect, sir, I’m trying my best. You berating me for my pace is only slowing me down.”
“Pathetic,” he groused before turning on his heel and retreating down the hall.
When six rolled around, I was starving, and by seven, I was starting to shake. Either from lack of food or my muscles were starting to give out, I wasn’t entirely sure. When the time struck eight, I began to grow sleepy, and by nine, I felt myself start to fall asleep. It was a terrible idea to give in to the urge, but heavy eyelids were very convincing to a sleep-deprived brain. Just a little nap. A very short one. I had all night to finish this anyway. At least that’s what I told myself when I lay down on the file room floor.
And when I woke up a couple of hours later, I cursed myself, only briefly, until I took in my surroundings. No longer was I in the file room, but in Malakai’s office on his couch, a jacket draped over my chest. The scent that wafted off of it was a soothing one. It reminded me of him, and that comforting smell was almost enough to lull me back to sleep. If it weren’t for my racing heart, I might’ve given in to my drowsiness once again.
This was Roman’s jacket, which means he was here.
Maybe he’s still here-
I rolled off the couch, stumbling around the coffee table until I made it to the door. The walk down the hall felt like a long one, and the entire time, all I could feel was the swell of hope in my chest. But when I checked Roman’s old office, it started to diminish as I noticed it was empty. However, the sound of shuffling paper caught my attention, as did the light that was streaming through the narrow crack in the file room door.
My steps were quick as I rushed down the hallway, not wasting a second to push the door open, revealing just who I had been looking for. Roman sat on the floor, flipping through the piles of papers, sorting them out. He gave me a quick glance over his shoulder, the typical cigarette perched between his lips, before returning to his task. Clouds of smoke sifted through the air as he opened his mouth to speak.
“You could help, you know.” Hastily, I slipped out of my shoes and took my spot on the floor beside him. He didn’t so much as glance at me before he slid a thick stack of papers in front of my lap. “Financial documents from 2022. They still need to be alphabetized and put back into folders. When you’re done, file them in here.” He handed over one of the cabinet drawers that had been pulled from its base.
“Okay,” I whispered, too afraid to speak up and potentially scare him off again. I kept my head down and did what he asked while he worked on a different set of reports and documents. While sorting things out, a tear slipped from my eye and dropped onto the paper. Too focused on not frightening the man beside me, I didn’t even notice my eyes brimmed with tears. After a few minutes of silence, I couldn’t bear it anymore. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to drop some things off from our other office.”
“And how’s that all going? They say you’re busy.”
He sighed and ashed his cigarette in the trash can. “It’s better than it was. Still trying to get Terra-Ventures to agree, and the PSE employees seem to be happier now that they’ve aired their grievances. But it won’t last forever because there is no way Cecil will sign off on their requests.”
“So… that means you have to go back?”
“Yeah.”
“For how long?”
“Not sure,” he answered, and finally looked over at me. He cleared his throat and began working again. “Malakai said you wanted to speak with me about something.”
“It was nothing in particular. I just wanted to talk.” The shake in my voice was loud, embarrassingly so.
“Okay.” He clipped together another thick stack of paper and slid it in front of me, followed by another. “23-24 insurance documents and bank statements from the last six months. File them here and here.” He pointed to the two other cabinet drawers in front of us. I nodded and pulled them closer to me. “How was the trip?”
I knew the question was coming, so it shouldn’t have felt like such a shock to hear. But the way I’ve been holding back emotions lately, I couldn’t help the horribly suppressed sob that escaped me. “It was fine.”
Blinded by my tears, I had to stop sorting the papers, or I’d risk soaking them entirely. I set them aside and began brushing the never-ending streams from my eyes.
“Are you sure?”
While I had successfully lied to Cassie and Malakai today about the exact same thing, I couldn’t bring myself to do the same with Roman.
“No,” I cried, submitting to the emotions that were now boiling over. “We didn’t go out and do anything, he just stayed in the house all week, and I was too scared to go out with just the guide if it was supposed to be crowded, because what if I get lost! I’d never be able to get around on my own, he– he just left me alone-”
A warm hand pressed to the top of my thigh caused me to choke on my explanation. I remembered all the other times he’d offered me comfort in this very same way. “It’ll be okay.” That sentence on its own made me cry even harder.
“No, it won’t! Nothing is okay anymore– you hate me!” His hand tightened on my thigh as he pulled me closer to him. The abrupt movement made a gasp fall from my lips, and just as quickly, he pulled me onto his lap. “What are you-”
His hands moved to my face, pulling me closer to his. Not having felt this close proximity to him in what felt like forever, I froze, hoping he wouldn’t let go. “I don’t hate you– there’s nothing you could do, nothing you could say that would ever make me hate you. You’ve done nothing wrong, and I am so fucking sorry that I’ve made you feel otherwise.”
My face twisted up into a look of confusion. None of this was making any sense to me. Why would he say this to me now? After everything he threw at me these last few weeks, he’s going to backpedal now? “You-you’re not stupid, Roman. You knew the things you said to me were going to hurt me, so why? Why would you purposely try to break me if you don’t hate me?”
“Because I thought it would make everything easier. I thought you’d adjust-”
“Adjust? Adjust to fucking what? You being a prick out of nowhere-”
“I can’t be your friend, Calliope. Believe me, I want to, but the current circumstances won’t allow it– Cecil is fucking crazy. I thought if I just… put distance between us instead of telling you the truth, it would keep you from getting in his way.”
“Roman, that makes no fucking sense.”
“It does! It makes perfect sense, you just don’t get it!” The grip he had on my face tightened with each word he spoke. “When I say he’s crazy, I really mean it. And when I say we can’t be friends, I mean that, too, but it’s not because I don’t want to– he would hurt you, he would hurt my family-”
“Jesus Christ, you make him sound like a psychopath.”
“He is!”
“So leave! We can leave– we can go somewhere away from him-”
“Do you really think I’d still be here if I had the option to leave? That man is a narcissistic lunatic, Poppy. He’s forcing me to stay here.”
“No, he’s not. You have a choice– everyone has a choice. It’s… it’s the voices in your head, isn’t it? They keep telling you he’s crazy, you’re just paranoid-” Roman pulled away from me then, but not before I saw the sadness fill his eyes. “Cecil is not that bad. I’ve worked closely with him for weeks now. He told me to keep trying to be your friend– he’s worried about you!”
“That couldn’t be farther from the truth,” he said quietly. “He doesn’t give two shits about anyone but himself. And if what it takes for you to understand is for you to witness it first hand, it’ll already be too late. Be mad at me or think that I’m the crazy one– as long as you’re safe, I don’t care. But don’t you dare think for one second that I hate you.”
-Roman-
“Then stop treating me like you do.”
None of this was fair, not a single bit of it. Going back on all the shit I’ve put her through as a means to add distance and keep her safe was so fucking shitty, but having this woman convinced that I hate her was even worse. In a matter of seconds, with just three words, I put us back at square one, leaving her more confused than she was before. I could tell her everything, give her a detailed list of all the reasons Cecil wasn’t who she thought he was, but he’s already taken root in her mind.
How the fuck had he done that so fast?
She thinks I’m crazy– that I’m creating lies about Cecil as if I didn’t watch him rip Uriah apart the exact same way he’s trying to do to me right now. Uriah’s girlfriend learned the hard way that Cecil Pennington is not a man to fuck with and I refuse to let that happen to Poppy, too. Seeing Erica with a knife to her throat was enough for me; if I had to see Poppy in the same position, I don’t think I could ever forgive myself.
But what could I do? Tell her what happened? Hell no. Definitely not now that she’s doubting my sanity. Cecil knew that, too, which is why he told her about me in the first place. He knew it would plant that seed in her mind, and if word got back to my mother, or God forbid my father that I was spilling family secrets, I’d be put back in that fucking psych facility faster than I could blink. And if I weren’t here to act as that buffer between Cecil and everyone I care about, who knows what he’d do?
Poppy has no idea about the web I’ve tangled her in and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to get her out if I had to, I’ll do what needs to be done, but having her think I hate her– I can’t. Mentally, physically, I can’t allow her to think that. But to tell her I love her was something I couldn’t do either.
None of this was fucking fair. What did I do in a past life that warranted this shitty hand of cards? If this were the same stack of cards Uriah had in his hands, I can see why he stopped playing. It’s a waste of time, the game is pointless– I don’t want to keep playing.
“So, you don’t really hate me. Alright, I’ll take your word for it,” she whispered, pulling me out of my straying thoughts. “But can you stop pretending to? It’s killing me.”
My thumb brushed under her eye, wiping away another tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry-”
“Don’t be sorry, just…” Her hands moved to cup mine against her face. “Just be my friend again. Even if you have to keep your distance, for whatever the real reason may be. Being your friend from afar is better than not being your friend at all. We can work something out-”
Not fucking fair…
“Poppy-”
“No, Roman, please,” she interjected, cutting me off with a pleading look. “You say your dad is against it, fine– we can be friends without him knowing. We can be friends in secret and figure it all out as we go– please, please, Roman. Please, just try.”
That is such a bad idea. Would she still feel the same if she ends up with a knife pressed to her neck, forced to watch me have to choose between the ones I care about and their safety? And if I chose the selfish option– if I chose her, would she even want to stay, knowing that the man who held her captive was the same man who raised me? The stakes are so high with a risk that far outweighs the reward. Yet, how could I deny her of this when it’s the very thing I wanted more than anything in the world?
Selfish people shouldn’t be dealt a hand of cards like mine in a game where weak people shouldn’t be playing to begin with. If there was one thing that made me so fucking weak, it was her. And it was she, in this metaphorical game, who leaned over my shoulder, whispering the next play in my ear.
“Okay. Yeah, we can try.”
But, ultimately, it was that smile of hers that made this game worth it. I never doubted the addictive rush that gambling addicts claimed to feel with each game they entered; I’m sure it was akin to the feeling of a fresh line of coke hitting my bloodstream, yet I never truly understood their fixation until now. While the outcome was never absolute, there was always a chance to win, and if the prize was her happiness, I’d always play.
She sighed in relief and enveloped me in the tightest hug she could manage, a pressure that clamped around my lungs. At the same time, the overwhelming, comforting scent she possessed filled my senses in a matter of seconds, leaving behind a light floral taste on my tongue. If I began coughing up poppy petals, I don’t think I’d be too surprised.
“Thank you,” she whispered, coiling around me even tighter.
“For what?” I asked, amusement evident in my tone. It should be me thanking her, and when I was finished doing that, I’d begin to beg on my hands and knees for forgiveness.
“For trying.”
Don’t thank me yet, pretty…
“Well, I owe you that much after how I treated you. You didn’t deserve that.” It’s not your fault you can’t see what’s really happening here. “You’re the last person who deserves to handle me at my worst. I can be so horrible.”
“After all the times I snapped at you like a caged animal, I’ll let it slide.”
“But you were just scared.”
She leaned back, still resting her arms around my neck. The close proximity was starting to get to me– did she feel it, too?
“You’re just scared, too, so I’ll let you keep biting. Though you did quite a number on my hand with that last argument.”
I winced, feeling my guilt start to resurface. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve still got this one with all five fingers attached,” she joked, holding up her left hand, flexing her fingers in my face. The diamond on her ring finger caught the light and glinted at me mockingly. “Just don’t swallow the ring, I really like it.”
I knew you would…
“I like it, too.”
She smiled as she admired it between our bodies. “It matches the bracelet perfectly. Isn’t that weird?”
“Mhm, so weird.”
She hummed, not really listening to what I was saying. If she were, she might’ve picked up on the sarcastic lilt in my voice. “I wonder if all pink diamonds just look similar.”
“They don’t,” I answered, which garnered her attention. Her curious eyes flicked to mine, honey irises proving just how clueless she was. In any other scenario, I would have found it cute–but this was just… painful. “They vary in color and clarity.”
“Oh,” she murmured, looking back down at the ring. “Guess he was just lucky then, huh?”
He has no fucking idea…
The sound of my cell phone ringing ate up the silence in the file room. I leaned forward to retrieve my phone from my back pocket and checked the caller ID before accepting it. Poppy caught a glimpse of my screen and pursed her lips.
“Who’s Emmy?” she asked, a furrow forming between her brows.
“A friend,” I mumbled before answering the call. “Hey, Emmy. I know I said I’d be back soon, but I got caught up with something at work.”
“Yeah? And what would that be?” she playfully questioned.
“None of your business. Since when are you so nosy?”
“Since you left me in this house all by myself in the middle of fucking no where. I’m bored, Roman. You were supposed to be back hours ago.”
“I told you not to wait up for me before I left. Just go to sleep.” She groaned into the receiver, making me laugh a bit. “So clingy. I’ll be back soon.”
“Fine,” she drawled sleepily before ending the call abruptly.
I clicked the phone off and set it aside, giving the woman in my lap my attention again. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” The confused frown was etched deep on her mouth. “Sounds like she wants you back, so-” As she began to slide off my lap, I felt a surge of guilty panic and grabbed onto her wrist to stop her.
“Emmy is just a friend, I promise.”
“You don’t have to promise me anything, silly.” She forced a smile, placing her hands on my wrists to remove them. “It’s okay if she’s your… girlfriend. We’re just friends, after all.”
For her to say that while wearing the engagement ring I bought for her was a bit ironic.
“I know, but I... I just wanted you to know. Emmy– Clementine is just a friend.”
“Okay.” She reaffirmed her grip on my wrist and pulled my hand away from her. “Either way, it sounds like she needs you for something. You can go. Really, it’s okay. I need to finish this up anyway-”
“I’ll stay to help.”
She paused, regarding me with a hesitant look, and slid off my lap to sit beside me. “You have to be up early for work, and you still have to drive back. Not to mention, it sounds like you have other obligations-”
“Poppy, I prioritize my obligations to you first. Always. I’m staying.” I could see the apprehension swirling inside her. Rather than dwelling on it, I disregarded it and opted for something else– voluntary psychological torture. “Besides, I wanted to ask you about the… wedding.”
“The wedding?”
I nodded and began working again, hoping she wouldn’t insist on sending me back. Mentally, I noted not to bring Clementine up again. “Mhm. Have you started planning it yet?”
God, that was the last thing I wanted to talk to her about, but there wasn’t much I wouldn’t endure if it meant spending more time with her– if it meant I’d get to see her smile. While her current smile was small, it was still there, and that was enough for me.
“Just a little. Are you sure you want to hear about it?”
“Of course.”
“Really?”
I exhaled a shaky laugh. “Really.”
“Alright. So, I was thinking…”
As she explained her ideas, I found myself focusing on the tightness in my lungs, the shredding sensation of thorns in my throat, and even the light floral taste that coated my tongue again. Because the symptoms of this unrequited love felt so fucking good compared to the searing hot knife she was unknowingly plunging into my chest each time she envisioned herself with him. I could live without her loving me back, but I’d rather go blind than see her live out my dream with him.
Inappetence: lack of appetite
