This Is Me (Cover Girlfriend, Book Three)

Episode Three

Lincoln

Is he?

I watch in slow motion as Carlos advances on Terri, until her back is stretched against the wall.  I’m unable to look away when he raises his hand to her face, brushing back a hair before dropping it to her neck.

Son of a fucking bitch, he is!

I can’t believe what my eyes are witnessing, so I blink, but he’s still there.  Leaning in to Terri and... kissing her?!

I wait for it.  The draw back and the slap she’s sure to give him.  There’s no way she’d do something like this to me.  Not now; not after all we’ve been through.

Not after everything I’ve told her about my fucking Carlos.

Instead, I’m torn to shreds when she raises her hand to his cheek, blocking my view; arches into him.  Damn the soft, fluttery moan I recognize so well hitting my ears.

Fuck them both.

I storm towards the door, hands reaching up to remove the tie from around my neck, the imitation of a noose too vivid as it chokes me.  I loosen it to yank it over my head; toss it in the trash can before I exit.

They’re trash to me.

I can’t believe either of them.  That they would do this to me.  The only two people in the world I’ve ever loved fucking kissing in front of my fucking face.  Hooking up in front of my fucking face.

The more I think about it, the angrier I become, adrenaline coursing through my blood as I keep myself moving in whatever direction my feet take.

Coming here to support her dream - to this opening with her - was a bad idea.  I knew it would be; there was something in the feel of it that left me apprehensive.  She’d had that secret, impish thing going on the last few weeks; as if she was manipulating me.  Now I know why.  I could have fucking lived without being witness to that.

It plays a rerun, blow by blow, in my memory.

Betrayal runs me through with the accuracy of a fencing sword that’s hit its mark.

How fucking dare they.  Both of them.

I pause to catch my breath.

The darkness inside of me that is envy and wrath morphs into a physical sound; a laugh.  It’s low.  Evil.

How the fuck are they going to fuck?  They’re both little fucking bitches.

Another laugh that rumbles along the ancient paths.

My little fucking bitches.

It’s fact the last several months - Fuck, since I left that two-timing bastard - that I’ve been fractured inside.  Feelings muted; contained.  But tonight, they rage full force, convulsing in molten fury as it flows through me.  As if all those weeks of months of confusion, sorrow, and guilt have wrapped themselves into one emotion, and that mega-feeling has finally burst.

If they’re going to fuck, why shouldn’t I?

I haven’t been with anyone since Carlos.  Maybe that’s the fucking problem.

With purpose, I begin to look for an open bar.

Preferably gay.

Terri

I bring my hand up between us and Lincoln’s view before pulling back a fraction.  Force my eyes open to peer up at him; hear him whisper, “Put on a show, Ms. Lee.  I have a serious proposition for you if you can pull this off.”