Betrayed ✔️

Chapter 15: "Danced on her grave"

JAY

A BUZZ CLOUDED my senses, numbing the unwanted feelings and tucking them away in the darkest corners of my heart.

I just wanted glass after glass of that delicious golden drink people kept offering me. My escape from the daunting reality.

I remember being slumped over a table, tracing the dark contours of the rough wood, yelling for another drink to be brought to me .

I can see a face... pointed with an upturned nose and a haughty expression. I distinctly remember comparing the expression to Umbridge from Harry Potter. I called them 'Toadie'.

I remember...bright lights and eardrum-shattering music. I can hear Toadie shouting in my poor ear.

"What....know...Analyst Wilson?" They asked, leaning closer. I caught a whiff of cinnamon perfume and smiled drowsily.

"Something biiggg!" I extended my arms in a wide arc to emphasise my point. I smacked Toadie in the face and giggled at their disgruntled expression.

Through a combination of wild gesticulations and stumbled words, I managed to spill the secret of my best friend. I don't remember why I did it, or what Toadie said to convince me. But that was the colossal turning point in my life.

"Remember Toadie," I slurred, putting a finger to my lips. "You...cannot...tell...anyone!"

"Don't worry, Special Agent." Toadie's voice was sweet with a loving edge filled with malice. "I won't tell a soul!"

"I- I was drunk," I mumbled, staring at my hands. "I don't- I don't remember- I think I told someone? But, it wasn't all my fault! You also went too far by comparing me to that woman."

"I admit that was a low blow." Wilson nodded, but her eyes blazed with what I could only recognize as a daunting, fiery anger. Her knuckles turned dangerously white. "But what you did was abysmal. Did you know that people left messages on my desk? People calling me the most disgusting of names because your little drunk confession went on my fucking files!"

I froze, my heartbeat shattering in my ears. "People left notes on your desk?"

Wilson huffed and tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear. "Yeah- minor stuff though, thanks to Chief Wright's interference it cooled down. But as I was–"

"What sort of things do they write?"

"Eh?"

"What sort of things do they write?" I don't know why I was getting so angry.

Wilson waved her hand like she was swatting at a fly. "Honestly, you shouldn't even worry about it, just minor stuff of the past."

"Yes, but what?"

"Look, Carter, I think you're missing the point here–"

"What do the notes say?" I pressed once more.

Wilson brought her knees to her chest and hugged them tightly, as if she was trying to close me off as much as possible. "I... I think the last one called me 'tainted', a 'traitor' and um...some derogatory terms. But you're missing the point. Carter, I cannot trust you until–"

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

Averting my gaze, I wrung the flimsy material of my shirt. "I'm...sorry. For everything. I should not have gotten so drunk. I shouldn't have told anyone about what you'd told me. I should not have ignored you and broken our friendship so easily. I am... so sorry. You don't- you don't have to forgive me. But just know I am sorry. That I really am."