illuminate | help to clarify or explain

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4/28/17

MY EYES STARE at the ceiling of Asher's bedroom as I lay next to him in bed. I've been awake for hours just simply staring. I don't usually stay the night at Asher's during the week in case my mother notices. But she doesn't seem to notice much these days. She's become distant. She's gone most nights. Even when she's around she doesn't seem invested in our conversations, she seems distracted. Our relationship is unraveling from the inside out and I don't know how to handle it. I don't know how to fix it.

So instead of focusing on the aspects of my life that seem to be crumbling everywhere I look I chose to sleep over and let Asher distract me. Distract me with his lips, his touch, and his body. It's as if the physical aspect of our relationship is the only part keeping us afloat, keeping us from drowning in the realization that we're not meant to be.

But coming to terms with the fact that I threw away a friendship for a boy is one I'm scared to admit. So I hide in the physical, because being wrong isn't an option I want to face right now.

It's as if a match was struck on prom night. It was instant, hot, big, and flaming our connection. My love for this boy who I thought was changing me for the better. But now the flame has run its course and it's burned out, and all that is left is wispy smoke and a blackened, scorched match.

So I crave the distraction last night brought. Especially after the party. After Asher told me he loved me when he was drunk, and damp from the hot tub, and only after he confessed to kissing another girl.

After I didn't say those three little words back.

A harsh sigh escapes from between my parted lips and I twist my neck to see Asher still passed out next to me.

A single strand of his dark hair hangs across his forehead and he looks as handsome as ever. But the one thing I've noticed about Asher is that he never looks peaceful. Even asleep he looks as if he's struggling. His face is hard as tension crinkles his brows together creating a small crease between them. That even in his dreams he's not happy. He's not content.

I hear a laugh and then hushed talking from down the hall that surprises me. I roll over to see it's barely six in the morning. His parents get up this early? Come to think of it I don't even remember them being home last night.

My phone buzzes and I expect to see a text from my mother wondering where I am but it's just a general notification from Twitter.

A piece of me is disappointed that I don't see an angry text from my mother. I should be happy to be finally living a life that's so similar to Asher's with his parents. No one to watch his every move. No one to gripe at him for not cleaning up his room or forgetting to do his homework. But I don't feel relieved that my mother is backing off, instead I feel an overwhelming rush of loneliness and deep-seated sadness. Sad that I don't see any missed calls or worrisome voicemails. It's as if she doesn't see me anymore.

Or doesn't care?

Another loud sound echoes through the house, almost like someone ran into a table. Once again I hear hushed talking.

Before I can stop myself I climb out of bed and pull on one of Asher's T-shirts letting it fall to my thighs. Curiosity gets the best of me as I walk slowly over to his bedroom door. I cast a look towards the bed to find Asher still fast asleep. I twist the doorknob slowly so as to not make any noise, and I peak my head out the door to see Asher's father.

I've never met him in person, but I've seen his pictures hanging throughout the house in family photos. He looks just like Asher, or I guess Asher looks just like him. He has dark hair, though it's starting to grey, but in an incredibly handsome way, and dark eyes. They share similar bone structure and height. He's exactly what Asher will look like in thirty plus years.

My eyes track his movements as he messes with a small side table in the hallway. He rotates a vase and lifts a fallen picture frame before he turns his head. Suddenly all air leaves my lungs. My eyes widen and my heart stills in absolute pure shock.

I see him grab a woman's hand and tug her out of what I'm assuming is the master bedroom, but the woman with him isn't his wife. The kind woman I once met while shopping.

No, the woman he pulls into his body and wraps his arms around is my mother.

Tears spring to my eyes before I can stop them. I want to look away. I want to run far away and break something and scream and fight, but instead I stare.

I watch as he pushes her into the wall and leans in to kiss her. I watch as they melt into each other, and it would be almost romantic and sweet to someone who didn't know the truth. The truth that the man my mother is seeing, the one who's been stealing her away from me and distracting her is the father of my boyfriend. The married father of my boyfriend.

Bile rises in my throat and my entire body trembles as I hold in the sob that so desperately wants to escape. I watch from the slight opening of Asher's bedroom door as they kiss.

My mother pulls away first. "I have to go," she whispers. "For real this time," she says as she smiles up at the man like he's her world. "Mae will notice if I'm gone," she adds and pain settles deep in my bones knowing this won't end well for either of us.

Before I can watch anymore I'm yanked backwards and the bedroom door is slammed shut.

"What are you doing?" Asher's deep voice questions harshly.

I'm still in shock as I turn around to face him. Tears trail down my face and my heart races in my chest at what I just witnessed. "Did you know?" I ask on a stuttered breath as I fight to catch my breath. I feel as if I just ran for miles and I'm struggling to breathe and make sense of what I just saw.

His jaw clicks. "Know what?" he questions with a shrug as if he doesn't know what I'm talking about. But something deep in my soul stirs and I know. I know he's aware of the truth. I know he knows about his father and never told me.

My fingers run through my hair and tug slightly as my mind tries to put together the pieces of my life that just shattered within seconds. "Did you know that your father was sleeping with my mother?" I ask again, this time not beating around the bush. No bullshit. The truth. I need the truth.

Asher's eyes drop from mine. "He cheats on my mom all the time," he states casually as if this is nothing new. As if he's watched his father cheat on his mother for years.

"I don't give a shit about your dad that's my mom he's messing around with!" I exclaim. The words leave before I can stop them and a part of me does feel guilty for them. Asher has had to watch his father fool around on his mother for god knows how long. Then he watches them stay together. He watches his father continue to stay a successful businessman and buy whatever he wants. It almost makes sense, the way Asher is. But it still doesn't excuse his actions.

"Did you know?" I ask on a deep breath as I watch him intensely needing the truth in this moment.

He tongues the inside of his cheek as he sits on the edge of his bed. "I only saw her once and I didn't know who she was until..." he trails off looking at me as if he's desperate to not finish the sentence. As if he knows that what he says next will be the final nail in the coffin of our relationship. The last second of a flaming match before we burn out.

But I need him to finish. I need the truth. "Until?" I push as I wrap my arms around myself in weak attempts to find comfort in this mess.

He drops his head. "Until I saw you at the mall with her," he responds and his answer feels like a dagger to the heart. My heart has been broken, cracked, and scarred in my time with Asher. But this feeling right now is so much worse than the pain I've endured. I feel as if everything I know is a lie. I've convinced myself the past few months to cross lines, to lie, and to backstab. I've convinced myself that my actions were just because of the boy in front of me.

I inhale sharply. "That was months ago," I state simply. But now looking back I can't believe I didn't see it. It feels so obvious now. Remembering the way my mother was so quick to get away from Asher's mother. I would've noticed before I met Asher. I would've noticed, but my heart was so wrapped up in him my head couldn't think straight.

"You've known since then and didn't think to tell me?" I ask with disgust evident in my voice. How could he not tell me? How could he keep something like this from me?

"Maeleigh—" he attempts to speak. To reason with me, but I won't let his poisonous lies distort me anymore. I won't let his inviting flame tempt me anymore. Almost every part of me is burnt and ruined and bruised, and I refuse to give him the last few good pieces I have left.

I refuse to let him tarnish what is left of me.

"No, fuck you!" I scream cutting him off. I don't want to hear anymore of his lies. I'm standing here bleeding out and barely breathing. I can't take it anymore.

Asher stands from the bed and walks towards me but I back away. "What does it matter, it's not our relationship?" he asks as if he doesn't understand my blind rage. As if he can't understand my emotions.

I stand and take in the boy in front of me. I used to think he was so much more, that he was a man with the power and confidence that hung around him like a crown. But now I can see the truth, he's just a boy. A broken boy whose views on relationships are so skewed and fucked up. "My mother is sleeping with your father! What do you mean it has nothing to do with our relationship?" I ask rhetorically with a scoff.  "It has everything to do with it!" I exclaim.

"Like I said he does this all the time—" Asher starts but a thought slams into me and I once again cut him off.

"Is he leaving your mom?" I inquire quietly. I want to believe my mother would never willingly get involved with a married man. I want to believe that maybe Asher's parents are getting a divorce. I want to believe so much in this moment

His face hardens from my words as if I had slapped him. "He would never leave her," he answers fiercely.

"So my mom is just some woman he fools around with for what? Fun?" I question as my stomach churns and nausea washes over me causing my vision to swim. I stumble back a few steps until I'm leaning against Asher's dresser for support. "She told me she was falling for someone, oh my god," I groan at the thought of my mother falling for a married man. Being a mistress. Being someone's secret. And all for what?

But then my eyes land on the boy in front of me. The boy I fell for when I shouldn't have. The boy I let keep me a secret. I wanted to be his secret even.

"More like falling for his money," Asher mumbles under his breath almost as if he didn't want me to hear them. But I did, and it's as if he sunk the dagger deeper into my heart.

My eyes flare and my skin heats with untapped anger. "Excuse you?" I growl out low. "Are you calling my mother a gold digger?" I question with complete disdain.

His eyes widened. "Of course not," he tells me instantly trying to take back his words. But he can't. He said them, and he has no excuse this time. "But they know what they are getting into when they meet my dad. Like I said this isn't anything new."

I take in his words. I take in his actions. I absorb the last few months of my life. The past couple weeks of this relationship. I let it all wash over me and suddenly the tide settles. Everything in me falls quiet and still and calm. Because as I look at the boy I thought I loved in front of me, I know. I know what I have to do. What I should've done before all of this started. But I can't take back what I've done, who I've hurt. And I can blame Asher all I want, but what I did was on me and no one else.

I walk over to my discarded jeans and slip them on as Asher watches me intently. Obvious confusion fills his gaze but he says nothing. "Nothing new," I repeat the words he said. The words that struck me the hardest. My mother is one of many apparently.

And if I stayed with Asher I would become one also. Or even worse I'd become his mother. A woman in a marriage surrounded by twisted lies and secrecy.

"They all think they can change him. But he won't change. And he will never leave my mom," he tells me confidently and I believe him. Powerful men like Mr. Lawton don't leave the one woman who's stuck by their side for years. No, they just have their fun in secret and then leave them cold and alone once they're tired of them. Leave them in a pile of discarded ash.

I nod. "She can't fix him," I agree as I tug off his shirt and pull on my own.

"Exactly," he agrees.

I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear as I look at him. I am fully aware of what needs to be done, but that doesn't make it any easier. I gave him pieces of me I've never given anyone. But what we shared wasn't love. It was toxic and messy and dirty and through the smoke he convinced me there was beauty in it. But that beauty was a lie. Everything was a lie.

"Just like I can't fix you," I tell him as I slip on my shoes and walk towards the bedroom door.

"What?" His deep voice questions before his hands find my waist and turn me around to face him. He steps forward and crowds my space as he lets his body encase mine against the door. His dark eyes are wild and thunderous as they rake over my face and see that this isn't a game anymore because I'm done playing.

Asher places a hand on my cheek and I can't lie and say the warmth doesn't still call to me. Tears once again spill over and slide down my cheeks slowly. He catches one with his thumb and rubs it away. "I can't fix you," I tell him brokenly. "Trying to is breaking me and pulling me apart and I can't do this anymore."

He leans forward until his forehead rests against mine and we are breathing the same air. "Maeleigh, don't do this," he whispers his face filled with tortured agony. "I love you," he adds letting his lips brush mine.

Asher's hands clutch my face as he holds me close and I continue to cry onto his fingers. He tries to catch as many as he can but the salt still makes its way onto my lips.

I squeeze my eyes shut, clenching them, until stars fill the darkness. I let out a small pent up breath as I slowly open my eyes and let the blurriness settle. With Asher it was only darkness, there was no light, no stars. No happy ending in sight. Only pain. "You don't know what love is," I tell him. Not to hurt him, but to explain that his actions show he doesn't know how to love someone yet, and neither do I to be honest.

I thought love should be wild, crazy, angry, screaming, wanting to tear your own heart out, relentless desire and pain intertwined together. But love isn't purposefully hurting someone. Love shouldn't be uncomfortable or this hard. Love shouldn't hurt the ones who already love you in the process.

Asher clings to me. "Yes I do," he pushes and I lift my hands to rest on his that still cup my wet cheeks.

I settle my fingers between his as I shake my head. "No Asher, you don't love me. You love what I do for you, you love the way I make you feel, you love the attention, you love the challenge," I list off the reasons he thinks he loves me. My fingers drop from his and slowly his hands fall from my face at my admission. He takes a step away from me as conflicting emotions flicker over his face. My body is no longer wrapped in his heat.

"You don't love me, but for a small moment I really did love you," I admit as a sob escapes my chest.

My hand reaches behind me and wraps around the doorknob. I take one last look at Asher and the pain etched across his face only twists the dagger in my chest. We've hurt each other too much to ever get past this. He will forever be permanently charred into my heart, but he will never own it again. I will never be his.

I will never be anyone's but my own.

I turn and begin to walk out the door. "If you leave we are done," he tells me slowly, his words dripping with ache and sorrow.

My feet don't pause. "We're already done," I respond without casting him another look before walking out the door and down the stairs.

With those last words the dagger in my chest is ripped out. It's painful and bone deep, but suddenly I can breathe better. Even though I am broken, battered, and burned I feel lighter.

Lighter than I've felt in months.

And as I step out the front door I let the morning air wrap around me as the sun continues its rise. I let myself feel everything. Feel the wind chill my tear stained cheeks. Feel my heart beating and my chest rise and fall with each and every breath.

I let myself feel every piece that makes me whole and it's beautiful and scary, and I know I'm practically alone in this world right now.

But in this moment as tears gather in my eyes I feel at peace.