Endless Bonds

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ou'd think that I'd feel better after confronting Cher. One day later and everything still hurts.

"Drinking so early in the morning?"

I hear Teagan's shuffling steps before I see her.

Grief does that to you. Or heartbreak. Whatever.

I knock back my glass of whiskey. "Is there anything else you need?"

She shakes her head, looking sheepish. "No. Jared will drive me to the airport. I'll be back properly around the holidays. I spoke to Elsie and she's giving me a place to room, as well as a job when I return."

"Tee, that's really good. Looking forward to having you back."

She shifts again and inches me a sad look. "I'm really sorry about Cher. I thought you already knew since Jared and Tara did as well. I think I misunderstood the whole story when Cher was telling me. Then you were talking about being with her so I just assumed that you must have known about her, uh, ex-fiancé."

My knuckles turn white from the pressure I'm exerting onto my whiskey glass. "What?"

"What?" she returns. "I'm just saying sorry for not knowing better. I didn't know you didn't know, and it wasn't my business to say. I think Cher's mad at me, because she hasn't answered any of my messages..."

"No. No. That's not it. Jared and Tara knew?"

Teagan blanches. "Wait – you didn't know that either?"

My best friend choses that exact moment to saunter into the kitchen. Jared's shirtless chest pisses me off. So does the ugly frown when he yawns like a jackass. So does the fact that he fucking knew and didn't tell me shit.

I point a finger at Teagan then point back at him. "Did you fucking know?"

"Good morning." He smooths a hand over his buzzed head. "What are you talking about? I'm just here to get some cereal."

"Fuck your cereal!"

"Bro," he spins around, trying to shove my shoulder. "You want me to eat Wyatt's waffles instead? Or should I have your donuts? Who pissed in your breakfast? Leave me alone!"

I shove him back. "You fucking knew about Cher being engaged and you didn't say shit to me!"

Teagan looks like she's about to crap her pants.

Jared choses this exact moment to laugh his ugly ass laugh that I can't fucking stand. "That's what's got you all messed up and drinking this morning? Wow. Yeah. Yeah, I fucking knew."

"How could you not tell me?" I'm shouting, but I don't give a fuck.

"Take one more threatening step closer to me and I'll beat you to the ground," Jared says.

"As if you fucking could."

"Boys. Boys." Teagan steps between us, pushing us away by our chests. "Let's calm down. Trent, that's enough. Jared, shut up and eat your cereal."

Jared huffs and turns away, taking a seat at the island counter with his bowl in hand. He takes a bite, chews, and pins me with a glare. "I didn't tell you because I confronted her at Danny's, after seeing the both of you dance like you didn't have a boner for each other. I saw the ring and told her she couldn't lead you on because I know you, and I know how you'd started feeling for her. Besides that, it wasn't my thing to say. In my defense, I figured she'd already ended things with her ex if she was starting something with you."

I hold my head and lean back against the counter.

"Trent," Teagan hedges carefully. "I called Tara last night about what happened. I know your mad that she knew as well, but she's got the same reasoning as Jared. She knew it wasn't her business."

"I'm disappointed, Tee," I say, my shoulders sagging. "You guys are supposed to be my best friends."

"We're Cher's too, you know," Jared adds. "And we each gave her a piece of our mind but at the end, what happens is between you two. Can't interfere."

I understand that. It sucks, but I understand that.

"I told her I needed time."

Teagan sits down next to Jared, and he wraps an arm around her. They look at me with questioning gazes. "And?"

"I'm not too sure how to be with her. Another guy would have been one thing, but a whole-ass fiancé? I'm conflicted."

"You have a right to be," Jared says around a spoonful of cheerios. "Just don't do something stupid. This is Cher we're talking about. I know what she means to you. Take time, but don't ruin it."

"I agree with, Jared. You can be hurt, but eventually you'll have to move on and see where you stand."

"You guys are right." A deep sigh escapes me. "I wonder what the fucker looks like..."

"Oh, Pierre? I've seen a picture of him. He's HOT –" Jared kicks Teagan. "Omph. I mean he's ugly, average. Yeah. He's okay."

I flip her the middle finger, but a smile tugs at my lips. "Pack your shit and get outta my place before you miss your flight."

* * *

Teagan is packed and ready to go when a knock echoes against the front door. Jared opens it, and it's Oliver.

Instantly, I feel Teagan freeze up next to me, her hand tightening on her suitcase.

Oliver steps into the living room and catches our eyes. I give him a sour look to tell him he better not fuck shit up.

Understanding seems to pass between us. It's a brief flicker, but it seems as though Oliver makes a decision with himself.

"Hey," Oliver aims specifically at Teagan, with a strained smile.

Jared's mouth drops, but he's behind Oliver who can't see this reaction. I try to not act surprised even though I am.

Teagan stares at him, blinking a little. She swallows a huge lump in her throat. "Hi...Hey."

Well, then. First time they've spoken to each other in three years.

"I..uh...was just dropping by. Are you leaving already?" Oliver murmurs, golden eyes alight with an unnamed emotion. He scratches his head nervously and looks at me for courage. "To, um, Boston, I mean."

I give him a reassuring grin. Jared is giving him a thumbs up that he can't see.

Teagan runs her fingers through her blonde ends, nervously. She tries to smile at him as well, but it's also pinched. "Yeah, uh. My flights in three hours, so..."

"Cool."

"Yeah."

"Well, I hope you have a safe flight."

"Thanks, Oli..Oliver."

He turns to me. "When do you think you guys will be back? I need your help with something."

"I'm staying here, and Jared's going to the airport. I'd say an hour."

Jared catches on. "Yeah. Sounds about right. I'll be back in an hour."

"Cool," Oliver mutters.

"So, what do you need help with?" I ask.

He glances awkwardly at Teagan, shifting uncomfortably. The latter is busy fussing with the strap of her duffel bag. Or pretending to be busy, I should say. "Helping me pick out an engagement ring for Inga."

"Damn, you move fast." Jared laughs but it only adds to the tension.

I try not to think of rings...engagements...fiancés. I fail, of course, and feel depressed all over again at the thought of Cher and some French fucker.

"So I guess I'll stick around then?" Oliver says.

"Yeah. Have breakfast if you haven't. Wyatt should be up any moment."

Oliver then looks at Teagan again like he can't help it. "Uh, the blonde it's..."

"Different, yeah. I know." Fake smile plastered in place. "Got tired of dark hair."

"Ahh. It doesn't look bad."

"Thanks."

"Cool."

She sucks in a sharp breath and looks at Jared and I pointedly. "I should get going. Bye, guys."

I give her a hug and she holds me tight. "Don't forget what Jared and I told you," she whispers in my ear.

I nod and kiss her forehead. "Text me when you get home safely."

"I will, Dad." Her forehead wrinkles when she looks at Oli. "Um, bye, Oliver."

"Bye. It was, um, nice seeing you." His face is turning red – he's so embarrassed.

But Teagan plays it off. "You, too. Take care."

Then she wheels out her suitcase and, just like that, has left our lives for awhile.

* * *

"What the fuck is a princess cut?" Jared asks. "And why does it cost 8,000$?"

Oliver takes a good look at the screen. We've been poured over these ridiculously expensive websites for an hour. Why is it so hard to find a ring?

I wonder how long it took Cher's fiancé...

I press two fingers to my temple. Don't. Don't think about them.

"I'm liking this one – it's only 6,000$ and a baguette cut."

"Like the bread?" I ask.

"Beats me."

"Can I be honest?" Jared chimes in, eyebrows knitted. "They all look the same. Why don't you go with the cheaper one – it's only – and I can't believe I'm saying this – 4,000$."

"You guys think so?" Oliver looks at the ring and rolls his shoulders. "That's the one?"

Jared and I nod in unison.

"It's only two carats," Oliver cringes away from the laptop like two carats is going to bite him in the ass.

Jared and I throw our hands up in exasperation.

"I give up, bro," I tell him. "I don't fucking know what two carats means at this point. Get her a ring that won't put you on the fucking streets. Or ruin your credit score."

Oliver groans and raises his palms to his eyes. "Tara told me it has to be four carats – it's like some unwritten rule."

"Bro," Jared shoves his shoulder. "You're not marrying Tara; who gives a shit!"

"Yeah. If you think Inga will like it, who cares?"

"You forget how much money Inga's parents have – getting them to invite me to weekly dinners was a big deal, let alone liking me. I can't give their perfect Russian princess less than that. Nor do I want, too."

Jared sips his tea. "I'm never proposing to a girl. This shit's complicated."

"Amen," I mutter.

"So, last call." Oliver pulls out his wallet and fishes for his credit card. "Do I get her the baguette cut or the princess cut?"

* * *

It's late at night and I'm restless. I debate going to the kitchen and fixing myself a glass of wine. That always puts me to sleep.

Suddenly, my phone pings with a text message. It's 2:11 am.

I groan out loud. I've been thinking of her, too. She's mainly the reason why I can't sleep. I think of not replying to her, but I know I'll feel bad.

Before she can reply to me, I turn my phone off. I don't want to change my mind. I do need time to get my head together.

It's not long before I head over to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of wine

* * *

The last three weeks have been a blur. I immersed myself completely in midterms, tutoring, working, and football season.

I've hung out with Oliver, Jared and Tara, and completely avoided Cher for my own peace of mind.

They don't mention her to me, except for that one time I bothered Tara.

She told me Cher was focusing on school, self-reflecting and finding a part-time job. She also told me they went to the nail salon together and Cher got her nails done a light blue, because it reminded her of my eyes.

I'm man enough to admit that last bit tugged at my heartstrings.

I missed her too much to control myself, and my right hand paid the price that particular restless night.

In fact, I've spent a lot of time missing her to the point where I find myself stalking her social medias to see if she's posted anything, if she's enjoying herself, if she, too, misses me as much as I do.

Tara mentioned to me that Cher finished her report on alcohol consumption and drug usage amongst athletes and got a fucking A for it. I was so proud of her, yet I had to restrain myself from texting her a congratulations.

Afterall, I'm the one who said I needed space and time, and some part of me was still bitter about what happened. I wonder what she told her fiancé regarding me?

Trent's got better tongue-game, I fucking bet.

* * *

One particular afternoon, during my theology elective, Lance Campa decides he wants to piss me off by sneering at me.

Football season is over, but this motherfucker hasn't let go of his vendetta.

Before I can retaliate, his ex-girlfriend gives me flirtatious-boderline-fuck-me-eyes and comes to sit right next to me.

I smirk at her and she eats it up, chatting away. Adjusting my beanie, I slyly glance at Lance – who looks like he's got a chokehold because he's burning red with jealousy – and I wink at him.

Because that's just the kind of bastard I am. And, I get fun by riling him up.

I have no plans to fuck her again, but he doesn't need to know that.

There's only one girl my heart and dick wants, and I can't even have her.

* * *

Finals are going to be here before I know it, so I find myself prepping beforehand like the good student that I am.

I'm in the library with my earbuds on when a shadow looms over me.

Oh, fuck. It's bat-shit crazy Tonya.

I haven't seen her since my housewarming where Tara kissed me to ward her away.

She's got this sour look on her face, like she sucked a lemon, and I think she's trying to drill me to death with her violent gaze.

Obviously, it doesn't work. I give her a disinterested stare and pull out my buds. "Is there a problem?"

"Yeah," she says. "You're a fucking asshole, you know that?"

I roll my eyes. "Thanks, Tonya."

I may be one, but at least I never promised her a relationship. I don't know why she's acting like I owed her one. I was clear from the fucking start where we stood. It's not my fault she allowed things to get messy on her part.

I hate playing the part of the bad guy.

She thinks I'm a player; that I go around sleeping with girls and breaking hearts.

But the truth is I've been a nester for awhile– I was in a long-term relationship with a girl who screwed me over and for awhile I just wanted to have a little bit of fun and be single. Sue me for all I care.

"You're welcome," she hisses. Walking away, she adds an unnecessary bounce to her step so her ass shakes, as if to remind me of how good the sex was.

It wasn't that great.

Not enough for me to want seconds.

Dammit. Now I'm thinking of sex...and Cher.

I think of how dirty and responsive she is, and of how she'd love anyway I'd fuck her and probably demand for more in that tiny breathy voice of hers.

I can't study because I've got an epic cockstand in the library.

* * *

Friday mornings I usually meet up with Jared and whichever one of my friends is free for brunch before heading over to my afternoon classes.

We wanted to see Elsie so we chose Le Petit Moulin.

"So he went with the baguette cut," Jared says, around a mouthful of eggs. "Oliver says he's going to propose to her around springtime, near her birthday."

"That's romantic." I take a sip of coffee.

Jared nods then frowns. "Who do you think he'll pick as best man?"

We both contemplate for a second, before saying in unison, "me."

"Yeah, right," Jared laughs. "I'm the better friend."

"You wish." I throw my balled-up napkin at him.

He's about to come up with a retort when my phone starts ringing – it's my mom.

I slide it open to answer. "Hey, Mom."

"Trent." She sounds worried. "I need you to come home as soon as possible. It's an emergency."

I sit up straight as an arrow, goosebumps prickling on my arms. "Are you okay?"

Jared's watching me intently, gauging my expression. He senses something is terribly wrong, so he motions the waitress for the bill.

"Yes. But Darrell isn't here, and I need your help."

I'm pulling cash out of my wallet quickly and throwing it down. "Jared and I are fifteen minutes away; we'll be there soon."

Downing our coffees, we quickly race out of the café.

* * *

The house is eerily calm when we enter.

"Mom?" I call out as Jared toes off his shoes.

"In here." Her faint voice echoes from the kitchen, followed by faint giggling.

As I walk through the foyer, I notice a case that I know – without a doubt – is housing a violin.

I cross the distance and a huge grin spreads over my face when I catch sight of a slender figure with long brown hair, sitting on one of the kitchen stools.

My mom and Natalie both raise their mimosas and scream, "SURPRISE!"

I'm laughing as I haul Nat away and engulf her in a bearhug.

"Can't breathe," she laughs into my neck as I continue to crush her with my hug.

"When did you get back?" I spin her around and she squeals. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming? I'm so happy."

Natalie's eyes are wide and sparkling and she looks so happy my heart is dancing with joy. "I missed you, too. I wanted to surprise you. Birthday weekend, remember?"

I've been so busy the last few days that it slipped past my mind.

I go over to my mother and kiss her cheek. "Hi, Mom."

She's so proud with herself, thinking she so cleverly tricked me. "Hi, honey."

A throat clearing behind has us freezing a little...I forgot I dragged Jared here and well, he and Natalie haven't spoken in well, you do the math.

Jared looks like a statue, save for the small breath of disbelief that leaves him.

Natalie is facing him, still seated on the kitchen stool.

She looks like she's debating something for a brief second, before a small smile tugs at her lips. When I realize that Nat's going to be the bigger person, I'm feeling so proud of my baby sister and her growth.

Instead of ignoring Jared or making a rude comment or just plain making it weird, she gets up and goes to him, extending her arms and inviting him to hug her. "Hey, Cookie Jar."

Every line in Jared's body that was once taut is released of tension, and he crosses the few steps to hug her. "Hi, Natty. Hope you've been good."

My mom shares a secret smile with me, one that's laced with relief on the direction this encounter took.

And a little bit of hope.

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WHOOP WHOOP. It's Natalie! Thoughts on no one telling Trent about Cher's engagement? Oliver saying hi to Teagan? JARALIE at the end?!?!