Chapter 21: My Dark Prince: Chapter 20

I’d always known Karma knew my address and would pay me a visit sooner or later. But I had no idea she would deliver its punishment in the form of my first and only love pulling a spiky dildo from my glove compartment, forcing me to make an excuse for it.

There was no excuse.

It started as a small test. Something to see if I could function as everyone else did, with props, and unholy amounts of alcohol, and an NDA longer than Lord of the Rings.

The second I realized the equipment didn’t help, I tucked it into obvious places to throw my friends off my scent. Of course, I knew they found my dumb act a little less believable than a campaign promise during election season. But the more I ramped it up, the more I tried to keep it intact, the less they pried.

It hadn’t always been like this, though.

The last summer Briar and I spent together – the summer we had sex – all I needed was for her to breathe, not even in my vicinity, and I was good for it.

I pushed open the door. “Welcome home, Cuddlebug.”

Trio and Geezer sprinted their way from the family room – Trio on his three twig-like greyhound legs and Geezer on his skateboard. Briar crouched down and let my two ugly-as-sin dogs lick her face and jump on her, peppering their noses with kisses.

Since dogs, unlike humans, were good by nature, they did not question the stranger in their house and reacted with the enthusiasm of a diehard Swiftie. Trio rolled on his back and presented her his belly for a rub, while Geezer flipped his big, Hush Puppy ears, begging her to scratch the spot behind them.

“Are you guys excited to see mommy? Is that it?” Briar cooed.

I wanted to kill myself. Not because of guilt, but because it gave me a glimpse into an alternate universe. One where I hadn’t screwed shit up with Briar. One where she really could be these dogs’ mother. One where I didn’t need spiky dildos and chastity belts to throw my friends off my scent, just because I feared an ounce of their compassion would unravel the steel wall I’d erected around me.

She rolled around with the dogs for twenty minutes while I shot nervous glances to the second floor. I knew my housemate would not come out. He never did. Not one time in the fifteen years since I’d destroyed both our lives.

But he didn’t want her here.

We’d had nuclear arguments over the phone about her move here. In the end, there was nothing he could do.

This was my house.

I interrupted her love fest with the puppies, reaching for the floor-to-ceiling black walnut shelves and retrieving a blue rose I’d picked in advance. “A rose for my Briar Rose.”

Briar peered up, her arm wrapped around Geezer. Trio ran circles around her, his tail wagging so hard his body swayed side to side, oblivious to his mommy’s dropped smile. Her pupils zeroed in on the rose. She slowly stood, plucking it from between my fingers and pressing it against her pert nose.

My heart squeezed, and I didn’t even know why.

“Do you remember?” I rasped.

“I think I do.” Her fingers teased the petals of the blue rose. She seemed mesmerized by it. “I remember you telling me that each rose has to be individually dyed, and that you have to order them from somewhere far.” She looked up. “Is this a tradition of ours?”

It was, until I screwed it all up.

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “It is. Every day, I give you one of these roses.”

“Every day? Wait.” She studied the rose, holding it up to the natural light shining through the windows. “This isn’t dyed. They’re grown like these. I thought you said these haven’t been bred.”

“They hadn’t.” I scratched the back of my neck, wishing I could ice away the heat that rose up to my cheeks. “I invested in a botany start-up a while back, run by a team of scientists from Davis, Cornell, and Harvard. They cracked the code. I have a full backyard of them.”

I’d said I’d gotten rid of almost every trace of Briar.

Keyword: almost.

She was like a pesky tumor tucked into all the nooks and crannies of my most vital organs. Not even the most talented doctor could remove it all in one go.

Briar bounced on her toes, crushing the rose in her fist with her excitement. Her head spun around in search of the yard. “Can I see?”

“Slow your roll, Speed Racer.” I planted my hands on her shoulders, steadying her before she ended up back in a hospital bed. “We have all the time in the world.”

She rested her cheek on the rose, smiling up at me. “Do we still go to Lake Geneva?”

I smiled back, certain that tumor just shaved another decade off my life. “All the time, Cuddlebug.”