Page 40 of Love Marks

I haven’t thought about that time in my life or that night in forever, but the remnants of it have stuck with me. Every time I’ve had sex since, it hasn’t been the same. Even when I’m really into the person, guy or girl, I start to disassociate. I can’t help it.

Worst of all, it’s not the type of thing I’m conscious of in the moment. Casual partners tend not to notice it either and I’ve been too scared to try any serious dating. After all, sex is a prerequisite for that, and I have all this baggage surrounding it now. Somehow, even when I think I’m ready and enjoying myself, I’m still not really there.

Standing on the sidewalk outside of the Hyatt, I try to calm my impending hyperventilating.

Breathe, breathe.

I can’t believe I cried like that. In front of Wesley of all people. I’m so embarrassed. How the hell am I going to explain my reaction? He probably thinks I’m crazy. Like, balls-to-the-walls insane. Who turns into a sobbing mess just from dropping a glass?

It’s not like I can explain the truth.

Whoops, sorry! A glass smashed the night I was assaulted by my sugar daddy and now the trauma lives inside me where I can’t really control how or when I react!

I didn’t think I’d be triggered like that, but when the glass shattered, it was like I wasn’t in Wesley’s penthouse suite. I was a scared young woman who’d allowed herself to be used over and over by men. I actually thought Wesley was Derek before I snapped out of it. It was his face swimming in my vision.

Breathe, breathe.

I feel sick. I can’t go back to work. How am I ever going to face Wesley again? This is worse than any argument. He’s seen a side of me I swore I would never show. He’s seen me vulnerable. He’s seen my weakness and now he can exploit it however he wants.

I can’t take it. I rush over to the trash can and hurl right into it, the vomit rushing out of me.

“Hey, lady, you alright?” Someone asks from behind me.

I heave again and empty out the entire contents of my stomach. Oh god.

“I’m fine,” I groan, waving them to leave me alone.

Thankfully, it’s New York, so whoever it is walks away without further questioning. I think I’m done throwing up, so I sit on a bench with my head in my hands.

My phone buzzes and I look down to see a text from my mom.

Don’t forget to pick up the cake from the bakery! See you tonight. xx

Shit. I completely forgot that tonight is Sheila’s going away party at our place. Here I thought the day couldn’t possibly get worse. I’m dreading saying goodbye to Sheila. I look up at the cloudy sky with a sigh. Someone up there’s really got it in for me.

***

Later that night, our apartment is packed for Sheila’s party. To be fair, it’s a pretty small place, so it doesn’t take much to fill it up.

“Everything looks amazing.” Sheila smiles, looking around at the decor.

“Wait until you try dessert. Quinn made your favorite.” my mom says, pushing Sheila towards the kitchen.

I pour myself a giant glass of wine, wishing we’d gone for the harder stuff. I could use a shot of tequila right about now. Sannika is talking my ear off about how well the candle business is doing and won’t stop thanking me for my support.

“It’s no problem, really,” I mutter, looking around the room for an escape. “Would you excuse me for a minute?”

I beeline for the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I put the seat down and sit on the toilet with a sigh. My phone buzzes in my pocket. When I look at the screen, I read the message almost three times.

I can’t believe what I’m seeing.

Hi Quinn, it’s Wesley Marks. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay. Let me know.

I rub my eyes to make sure I’m not imagining the words on my screen. I type quickly in disbelief.

How did you get this number?

I stare down at the phone. What a dumb question. He probably has a PI on speed dial and elves who do his bidding. My phone buzzes again with his response.