Jilted

Torn

I’m all out of faith, this is how I feel.

I’m cold and I am shamed, lying naked on the floor.

Illusion never changed into something real.

I’m wide awake, and I can see the perfect sky is torn.

You’re a little late, I’m already torn.

Natalie Imbruglia – Torn

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“Give the girl some damn privacy, Kyle! And I never said she and I slept together!” Christopher snapped viciously, snatching the purse out of Kyle’s hands and tossing it into the backseat, swerving dangerously in the process.

Kyle was too shocked by his brother’s hostile tone to care about the purse. “Sorry, man. I didn’t…just forget it.”

Quiet echoed throughout the car. Christopher didn’t bother trying to break the silence, savoring it, knowing that any second his brother would try and break it. He didn’t.

With a screech, Christopher pulled up to Kyle’s and Lariza’s Upper Eastside apartment moments later. Kyle didn’t move and shot his brother an apologetic glance. After a few seconds, Kyle unbuckled his seatbelt slowly, opening his mouth to say something when Christopher cut him off, “Have a good trip, bro. Bring back some Cubans, if you can.”

He couldn’t let Kyle leave with that awful expression in his eyes. Guiltily, Christopher reached over and gave Kyle’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. Kyle gave him an easy smile in return, “Yeah, I will. Lariza is probably going to bring back a suitcase full of souvenirs for people. It should be easy.”

Kyle was so easy. A cold look or word would wound him, but a kind word and gesture would bring him right back up. Lariza was exactly the same. They both cherished every moment like it would be their last, and they hated any moment that was not spent with a smile upon their faces. Life between them was so…simple. No wonder Kyle hadn’t understood Geviana’s complexity. Kyle barely understood Christopher’s complexity.

“Bye,” Kyle muttered, giving a small wave before stepping out of the car.

Christopher watched his younger brother saunter up to his building, fumbling with his keys along the way. He was so happy. Physically, they were almost carbon copies of one another, but inside, they were like oil and water. They didn’t mix well, and nothing was the same.

Christopher let loose a long breath. The basketball game and the whole conversation had ben wrought with tension and awkwardness for Christopher. He was used to lying, but he most definitely was not used to lying about a woman whose past and present were so carefully entwined with his own and his bother’s. Stretching his arms behind him, his hands brushed against the red satiny material of the clutch, and involuntarily, the way the dress skimmed over her body and the way her skin felt through it, surfaced in his mind.

His memory of it was so acute, and his reactions were so strong whenever he thought about her. Why the fuck couldn’t he stop thinking about her? Grasping the clutch in his fingers, he brought it to the front. Having to qualms about opening a woman’s purse, he pulled it apart. He’d have to return it to her. No matter his resentment toward her, she would undoubtedly need it.

His large hands sifted through the intimate contents of her purse. You could learn a lot about a woman by what she carries in her purse, Christopher mused.

Lancôme lipstick in a neutral shade, NARS blush, a small coin purse with Hello Kitty adorned in rhinestones on the outside, and a cell phone.

Despite himself, he was vaguely fascinated by her possessions. Expensive makeup. She liked to keep herself looking her best. A little Hello Kitty rhinestone coin purse, she had a playful and childish edge to her, underneath her tough and cold exterior. Her phone was sleek and small, and for a second, Christopher’s morality got the better of him. Was he really going to go through her phone, too?