The Billionaire Throuple

Andreas Santiago [Part 3]

PART III: HOLDING US TOGETHER

[Nine Weeks Later 12/31/2022]

The throuple that never quits is still humming along. I have to admit, it's been a blast and I never thought it was going to go on as long as it has. For me, it started off as something to take my mind off my own problems and feed my addiction, but after the Momma Nemo hurdle, we kind of hit our stride.

She came around like Nemo said she would and now, he and Sammy-three are convinced we're unstoppable. I can't include myself in the vote of confidence since I'm holding us back.

Not on purpose, I want more than anything for us to last. It hurts my heart how much I love those two, but I can't tell my brain to be happy and forget what I've been through, what I'm going through. It doesn't work like that, but if it can, then tell me how.

I'll be the first one in line to hear that shit.

Here I am, blindfolded, for Sammy-three's second round of 'un-shatter a broken vase'. I'm the vase that knows it's too late, that there's no point in trying to fix me, that he should go out and buy a new vase. He's spent way too much time on this one when they're on sale for... you guessed it, a dime a dozen. Yet, I don't have the heart to tell him to quit trying. He's worked too hard for this, for us, but that's not why I haven't told him. I wish I was that selfless.

The truth is, I've never been loved like this before and I don't think I could survive losing his. I feel like my heart would stop beating the instant his eyes turn cold or the moment he steps away and I'm terrified of dying alone.

He's the only one who knows and gets me—really gets me—and his love hasn't wavered, not for a hot second. Most people don't find that in a lifetime, no matter how long they live.

I'm not saying I don't love Nemo, but he hasn't been through what we have and I wouldn't feel the same if Sammy-three wasn't with us. I'd still like him, he's an amazing guy, but I love him because Sammy-three needs me to.

There, I said it.

*****

Sammy-three pulls the sound canceling earmuffs off my head. "Are you ready for this?"

I nod and wiggle my fingers out toward his voice. He takes one hand, Nemo takes the other and they pull me out of the Bentley. I can tell we're inside because I'm not freezing and I know how concrete feels underneath my shoes. I also know we're in a large room because of how his voice echoed and that we're likely the only ones here since it's otherwise silent.

"I expect you to have some reservations, but you said you want to be healed more than anything," Sammy-three says, "I'm holding you to that, no shoving this time."

He's right. I did say that, but that doesn't make it possible. I figure since nothing I've done has improved my mood, I may as well let him take a crack at it. It's the least I could do since I've been a huge bummer to be around. Part of me is afraid that if I'm not willing to let him help, he might give up on me and you already know how I feel about that.

I let them guide me to wherever they're taking me, but the loud sound of an engine overhead gives me one hell of a clue. He should've kept the muffs on. I flinch and squat down to my knees, shucking their hands off me. I pull off my blindfold and we're in an airplane hangar. There's a private jet next to me and I'm not more than five strides away from its air stair.

I shake my head violently, non-stop. "No, No. I'm not going there!"

I don't hate planes, but I hate planes that go to Los Angeles and I'm certain that is where we're going. I'm tearing up as images flash in my mind of that damn beach house and that tiny utility room with the big, gray water heater taking up more than half the space.