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August is annoyed. His mother won't shut up, his half-brother is across the room bedazzling their relatives with his boy-next-door charm, and his father has been ignoring him for the whole evening, and now, he is annoyed.It's always like this. Every year he came to his father's Christmas function, August's sweaters felt just a little too tight, and his jaw was constantly set in a tight vice. These things were always too long, a week and a half of mind-numbing meaningless pleasantries that always left him thoroughly drained; it had only been two days since he arrived, and he was already tired of them all.I hate them all. But most of all, I hate you, he thinks, glaring at his brother.Jonah got to have a father, a normal life, a good job, a beautiful girlfriend, and live the American dream. Jonah won before August even had a chance to compete with him. Still, August has been fighting his whole life to get a fraction of what Jonah was born into.August's wife tugs his sleeve. "We should go over and say 'Hi.'"Her blue eyes sparkle against the room's chandelier when he gives her a curt nod. Things were always simple with Devon. She didn't push him too much to do things he didn't want to do, but her face almost always gave way to a satisfied grin whenever he did agree to do the trivial things that made her happy. August wasn't easy to be with, but she always obliged. She was easy, and he loved easy women."I need to down four more egg nogs before I can even stomach going over there," his mother says with a hearty laugh.August ignores her as he usually does. Devon's blond bob bounces with a youthful conviction when she drags him towards Jonah, his girlfriend and half of the Westminster family tree.Devon is always the peacemaker in situations like these. She is under the guise that August wants peace, too. She is wrong. She doesn't know there is a part of him that is angry, vengeful, and downright wicked. August never intends to show her that side, but if she continues to prod this family wound, he will soon have to.Beyond the ski lodge, a snowstorm is raging. Wind assaults the ski lodge with pebble-hard snowflakes. The flame under the fireplace dances in a hypnotizing rhythm. Soft chatter and the clinks of glasses, silverware, and plates drown out the gnawing ache in his heart. August doesn't know where this feeling came from. He doesn't understand it. He just discovered it one day, and ever since, it's been growing, eroding every semblance of control he has over his life.His brother clears his throat. August gazes at the group. They are all staring at him: his father's second wife, his half-brother and his half-brother's girlfriend. Most of the group around them has scattered. 
Where did they go?
Jonah raises a thick eyebrow at August. His stepmother purses her lips. Jonah's girlfriend settles her gaze on him. The pout of her lips slightly parted, revealing the slight gap in her two front teeth. Her eyes are golden like amber, like his favourite whiskey. She stares at him like she sees him for who he truly is.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Iverem can tell that Jonah does not like his older brother. Iverem can tell because his fists are clenched, and he's barely breathing. She can tell because a guy like August is impossible to like.August has the same refined look as Jonah and thick eyebrows and green eyes. However, his mother's Mexican heritage has given his skin a beige complexion, like golden oak and citrine. His countenance is also annoyingly arrogant. August's plush pink lips form a frown when he emerges from his thoughts. He scans the crowd, and his gaze lands on Iverem. She's surprised him somehow, but the expression quickly eclipses to a scowl."You been well?" Jonah asks."We've been good. We're trying again," Devon answers, "for a baby."August continues to hold Iverem's stare. This isn't the first time they've met, but it seems to be the first time he actually sees her. He reminds Iverem of her youth church leader Michael. Like him, Augustine has a calm composure, charming and elegantly beautiful. Yet Iverem feels like she's the only one who sees that anger and sadness simmering beneath his carefully crafted persona.Ugh, why is he still looking at me? she thinks. Iverem tries her best to avoid the likes of men who remind her of that man. His cold gaze brings back memories she's worked hard to forget.Silence befalls the group and lingers for entirely too long. "Getting up to anything this week?" Devon says, trying to ease the tension."We're going to catch the slopes tomorrow," Jonah's mother says. "You guys should come with us."God, we're already making plans with them, Iverem sighs.Devon's face lights up like a star. "That sounds quite nice, thank you.""The mountains have this beautiful glow right at sunrise –""You have a stain on your shirt," August says.Iverem looks down at her peach satin blouse. A dark red blotch is spreading across her collar. There isn't any reason she should feel embarrassed about a stain on her shirt. But August's smirk and everyone's prodding gaze causes Iverem to curse her clumsiness. She must look like some stupid slob.What is August's motive here? He barely ever glanced at her when they were at one of these things, and now he was trying to humiliate her in front of everyone. No way in hell will she let this uppity-ass weirdo get to her.Iverem straightens her posture and glares at him. Iverem is tall, but August is taller than her and even Jonah. She doesn't like the idea of him looking down on her metaphorically and physically.In time, she'll teach August a lesson or two not to fuck with her, so she giggles at his comment. "I'm such a lush sometimes," she says.Devon lets out an anxious breath."Don't worry," Jonah's mother says. "I got just the thing to get that right out."Iverem smiles at August before she excuses herself. There is a smarmy smile on his face as he gazes at her with a challenge. Iverem's unsure of what kind.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Jonah is up at six in the goddamn morning, making a smoothie and blasting his workout music throughout their cabin. Startled awake by his morning routine, Iverem throws a pillow at Jonah when he crosses their bed to grab his wallet.He leans over the bed to kiss Iverem. She burrows further into the bed to avoid his lips. “We’re going to be late,” Jonah says, pressing his body over her.“I’m not going,” Iverem says.She was restless the whole night, half asleep and waking at the slightest noises. Iverem doesn’t have the energy today to be Jonah’s enthusiastic other half or anything else these people want her to be. Instead, she will go to the hotel restaurant today and order an English breakfast and journal till early afternoon. Since the party last evening, she’s been thinking about Michael again. Thoughts of him will eventually lead to mood swings, and before she knows it, she won’t be able to get out of bed. So, she writes to purge. To purge the memories of all those awful things he did to her as a child.“Are you sure?” Jonah says, his green eyes studying her.“I didn’t sleep well last night,” she says and then turns away from him.Jonah sighs but doesn’t question Iverem further. He leaves without saying another word, which worsens her mood.To ease her building anxiety, she takes a long hot shower. She presses her forehead on the tile wall, inhaling and exhaling measured breaths. The rapid movement of her mind soon calms. Now, she can hear the water pouring from the shower faucet and her pounding heart.She goes through her rolodex of celebrity crushes, but one thought suddenly takes root: August. She recalls the curve of his jaw, the sensuality of his eyes against the fullness of his lashes. Iverem whimpers when she imagines the taste of his mouth. But she doesn’t touch herself. No, that would be too much of a betrayal to Jonah.She jumps out of the shower before she reconsiders her choice.Outside, last night’s snowstorm left a fresh pile of snow on the ground. As she walks to the main hotel building, Iverem’s boots sink into the snow. By the time She reaches the gazebo, hidden along the pathway to the hotel, she’s dripping in sweat. Her puffer jacket is suffocating, and her sweater clings to her wet armpits.The salmon stream by the gazebo is ice-covered, capturing sediments and aquatic plants. As she takes off her puffer jacket, her phone slips from her pocket.Iverem’s mother is calling her. And her mother never calls her.“Yes,” she says, picking up the call.It’s early afternoon in New York, and Iverem’s mother is usually at work around this time. “I’m just calling to check up on you,” she says.“Yeah, we’re good.”Iverem doesn’t care to divulge. Her mother once made a choice, a terrible, selfish choice. Her daughter or her church, and she chose her church. She chose the man who raped her over her daughter. Iverem has nothing left to give to this woman. Never again.Her mother sighs, “I guess I should just get to the point then.” Afterward, there is a resounding silence.“I’m busy right now, so what do you want?” Iverem says.“I just decided to call you before things get worse. I’ve been forgetting things recently. I’ve been making stupid mistakes at work because of it,” she says. “Things will be different from now on because of this.”“Ok, so...” Iverem’s temperature has cooled down, so she quickly puts on the puffer jacket. But as her mother continues to grate her nerves, a headache quickly blossoms at the front of her head.“I have early on-set Alzheimers,” she says.She should feel something, anything, about this announcement. She doesn’t.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

When August arrives at the hotel restaurant, he finds Iverem sitting in his favourite booth, lost in thought, as she gazes at the mountains where ski lifts and skiers make their way up and down the Alps.Aimlessly, she flips through a weathered journal."Mind if I join you?" the question sounds perfunctory since he's already seated beside her.Iverem doesn't pay him any mind. "Sure," she mutters.Her ambivalence toward him causes August to clench and unclench his fist. So fucking annoying, he thinks, Jonah and his girlfriend are a match made in heaven.August snatches her journal before he can think twice about it. He ruffles through her diary, skimming the entries about nonsensical issues he deduces every woman deals with."Hey," she says, taking the journal from his grip. "What the fuck do you think you're doing."He shrugs. "Curious."This comment twists her pouty lips into a frown. When August finally has her attention, he takes his time to study Iverem. The brown of her skin reminds August of wet sand pushed back and forth by the ocean, summers in Mexico by the beach, and sitting on the seashore with his cousins during sunset.He inhales her scent. The fragrance is light and flowery, like spring flowers in the rain. The smell does something to his blood, causing it to pump faster to his heart and other, more perverse parts of his body."Mind your fucking business," she says.His eye twitches. There she goes, being fucking annoying again."We've never really talked before," he says, musing to himself."Nope," she says. "You've always been up your mother's ass."
Now she's just being a bitch.
"And you're always up my brother's ass," he retorts. "Why aren't you with the rest of them?"Iverem takes a sip of her coffee before she answers. "Didn't feel like it."She isn't a good liar, and her omission of the truth irritates August further. She doesn't take him seriously. He's a nuisance to her, and only one man in this world can make him feel like fucking waste of space: his father.He runs a finger along the edge of her jaw to the tip of her chin, tilting her head until she meets his gaze. "Trouble in paradise?"Iverem jerks her chin out of his grasp. "What?""I asked you a question." Her eyes widen slightly. Her mouth opens and closes, making her look like some stupid fucking fish."Fuck off." There's a fire behind her amber eyes; it turns them into liquid gold. God, she's so fucking hot. "Get the fuck out of my booth."August doesn't move an inch. Instead, he grips her knee, feeling his way up the harsh texture of her jeans and settling his fingers at the base of her thigh. Her warmth is enigmatic, drawing him closer. Her body begs for him to touch her."You don't get to tell me what to do," he says.He pulls her closer by yanking her braids. Iverem lets out a frustrated gasp, and he takes this opening as an opportunity to plunge his tongue into her mouth. Iverem remains still. Letting him ravage her mouth, sucking her tongue like candy and kissing her lips with bruising intensity. With each kiss, he attempts to steal her soul or at least infect her with his depravity. When he realizes he can't do either of those things, he decides that claiming ownership of her will suffice.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Snow falls from a barren branch and sprinkles glitter-like mist into the air as Iverem drives her snowmobile up the mountain. Behind her trails Jonah, Devon and August: her current conundrum.Why can't my sex fantasies stay as sex fantasies, Iverem inwardly groans. She hasn't told Jonah about the kiss yet and is unsure how to approach the subject. Jonah hates August, and August feels much the same about his half-brother. Iverem didn't want to be in the middle of their feud. But she knew if she told Jonah about what August did, it would cause a further rift in their relationship, and she didn't want to be in the middle of their dysfunction.Another issue would arise if she told Jonah about what happened this morning; Iverem didn't push August off of her fast enough. She lingered near him, close to his mouth. As she breathed him in and felt the heat of his hand on her thigh, Iverem's spirit was momentarily awakened. Iverem knew she had to tell Jonah about the kiss, but she didn't know if she could be honest with him about how it made her feel.August makes her feel alive, and it frightens her that a man like him could have that much power over her. She's further frightened by an intense desire to touch him again, smell his scent of cardamom and orange peels, feel his lips on her own, and let him have his way with her.Then, there is the issue regarding her mother's dementia. Did she really need to be in a row with Jonah when her life was about to change?The group stops their snowmobiles at a clearing in the middle of the forest."There should be a lake north of here," Jonah says."How much further?" Devon says."Twenty minutes from here," August says."Want to take a break?" Jonah asks Iverem.She shakes her head.Devon revs her engine. "We can take a break when we get there," she says, then rides into the forest.Jonah looks back at Iverem, waiting for her to follow his lead. "I'll catch up with you. Go ahead," she says.She needs some distance from Jonah to think about whether she should do the right thing, or the best thing for her.As he speeds off into the distance, Iverem finally exhales the breath she's been holding."You okay?" August says. His voice is as smooth as red wine. Iverem grows still all at once, waiting to hear the timber of his voice again.When he doesn't say anything else, she finally looks at him. The helmet he wears obscures most of his face. Good, I don't want to see his smug fucking smile, she thinks."You shouldn't be talking to me right now," she says. "Not after what you did this morning.""Are you going to tell him?""Yes, I am. He's my boyfriend," she spits out.August looks towards the direction Devon and Jonah sped off for a moment before he settles his gaze back on Iverem."I don't think that's a good idea," he says."Fuck what you think," she says, leaving him behind.He's on her tail in a matter of seconds. Why won't he leave me alone, she thinks.She turns her head and flips him off. This causes the snowmobile to veer into an evergreen tree.Iverem goes flying into the snow.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

What a fucking idiot, August thinks.He turns off his snowmobile and walks towards Iverem. He crouches over her limp body and waits for her to wake. When he grows impatient, he lightly taps her helmet. Her hazel eyes flutter open. Dazed, her lips part, and she takes a breath. Her breathing is erratic. She looks everywhere, confused."You've had an accident," August says. The words come out more ominous than he intends them to. But still, he relishes in the fear that begins to emit from Iverem. Pushing aside this morbid fascination, he removes her helmet to get a better look at her injuries, gingerly inspecting the back of her head, then moving on to the rest of her body until he's ensured she's all in one piece.She groans, and her eyes begin to close again. August cups her cheek affectionately in a way he didn't know he was capable of. "You gotta stay awake," he says."No, I'm tired," she groans, jerking her head away from his grasp.She's still stubborn, even when she's concussed.August runs his hands through her hair. He jerks her head upwards by twisting the braids through his fingers like a rope. "Can you just trust me on this one?" he says.She tries to shake her head, but his grip prevents Iverem from doing this. So instead, she says, "get off," pushing him away with her hands.Iverem's body becomes tense, her breathing ragged. Her chest brushes against his as she squirms. The smell of flowers wafting from her hair seeps into his pores and quickens his heart rate. Her pink tongue darts out, wetting her lips. The movement hypnotizes him. She looks so vulnerable... so helpless underneath him. She's ready for the taking. But he doesn't do that. August prides himself on not being a by-product of his upbringing, so he hauls Iverem to her feet and onto his snowmobile."Stay awake," he says. Despite his pleas, Iverem's eyes shut close.~
Edgar and his mother were upstairs whispering, but not really whispering, because August could hear them arguing from the den. Edgar, the Mexican real estate broker who took their family out of abject poverty, was angry again. He was always angry. August couldn't remember a time when Edgar wasn't angry.

His mother walked to the other side of the house, and his stepfather followed. Then, listless footsteps pivoted back to their bedroom. Cussing each other the whole way, after two intervals of wandering from the bathroom to their bedroom and back to the bathroom, they finally settled back into their bedroom.

They were yelling now. Drawers were opening and closing, doors slamming shut. A slap echoed off the walls and travelled down into the den. That's when August vaulted his eleven-year-old body up the stairs to his mother as fast as he could.

He started banging on their bedroom door. Something shattered the doorframe, but August kept pounding on it.

His mother screamed. "Mijo, not right now!"

August didn't listen. "Mom, what's going on?"

He couldn't feel his fists anymore; still, he kept pounding on the door, the frame trying to jump from the hinges.

August could hear her sobs now. "Don't touch her. Don't touch her. Don't touch her," he kept repeating.

This chant became a prayer, and his prayers were answered when the door was finally yanked open. Instead of falling onto his mother's favourite Kashan rug, he descended into a black abyss. The intensity of the fall caused his heart to almost lurch out of his mouth.
And then... he's in a dark room, lying in bed with Devon, who is already at the chorus of her nightly snoring routine. But tonight, August can't hear his wife. He can't feel his heart or the duvet at his fingertips. He can barely breathe. Let alone form a coherent thought or feeling. He's nothing. Maybe he's always been nothing, just like Edgar used to tell him. Now, the truth is finally catching up to him. Poor fatherless Augustine, who doesn't have a friend in the world, is finally coming into his own.He slips on a sweater and goes to his cabin porch for a cigarette – well, as much as an herbal cigarette can be a substitute for the real thing. August switched from clove to green tea cigarettes just over a year ago. It was hell overcoming a habit he had since he was fifteen. But Devon wouldn't shut up about this baby thing and thought that August quitting smoking would magically cause his sperm to sprint to her ovaries.When his fingers begin to numb, he considers returning to bed. He stops in his tracks once he catches sight of his father bounding to the resort.He waves at him, which causes August's father to detour toward his cabin. He stops right at his porch steps like he knows he has no right to step any further. "Can't you sleep either?"August nods before he takes a long drag of his cigarette."C'mon," his father says to August as if he's ushering him from a hiding place. "Walk with me."They walk in silence until they reach the gazebo. August's fingers polish the gazebo's rosewood top rail to pass the time. Underneath the frost and patches of snow are etchings of cherubs with bows and doves flying around them."We haven't talked in a while," his father says."You haven't bothered to try," August says, and he's shocked at the amount of vulnerability that's seeped into his words. Fuck, what is wrong with me? August thinks.His father 'tsks' him. "It's not like I don't care. I've just been busy with work.""Ok." Luckily, August manages to get this statement out calmly."No, I really mean it," his father says. "I've been meaning to talk to you about it."August's father runs an advertising company, a company handed down to him by his father. August always thought he would be next in line to run the company. Maybe not be the CEO, but at least be a major player. That dream went to shit three years ago when his father started mentoring Jonah for a position in the company instead of him. He didn't even think twice about August before taking Jonah under his helm."Can't you talk to Jonah about this?""He's not good at numbers like you."I'm an accountant, of course I'm good at numbers, August thinks. "You don't have an accountant that can look into it?"A dark look overtakes his father's usually sunny Nordic features. "Someone's been skimming money from the company; not a big deal, but I'd like to nip it in the bud before it gets any worse."August skims his fingers against a cherub's wing to keep himself from laughing. "And you think I'm the person to figure this out?"His father gives August a smile that once made him believe he truly loved him. "You're my son. Why wouldn't I trust you?"

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Iverem strips off her wet clothes with a comical caution. Her muscles protest against each movement, but she perseveres. Thank god for painkillers, she thinks. More importantly, Iverem's glad she doesn't have a concussion.Now naked, she gasps at the long bruise covering her body's right side; it's ugly and already cresting towards a black hue. Jonah's knock abruptly ends Iverem's marvelling."Come in," she says, wrapping a towel around her body. Jonah was worried sick when he found her at the clinic, acting like Iverem was practically on her deathbed. God, she isn't some fragile thing. Some of his protective attributes were sweet, but most verged towards just downright sexist. She hates dealing with that kind of unwanted attention from Jonah. Especially now since she still can't look him in the eyes after what happened with Augustine."How are you feeling," he says, leaning against the bathroom sink."Like shit," she says, laughing.When Jonah doesn't seem to find her joke amusing, she stops laughing. He reaches for her and presses his lips on her forehead. "I really wanted to see the lake with you," he mumbles into her hair.Iverem wraps her arms around his neck. Her muscles practically scream at her to stop. She conceals this pain with a strained grin. "There's always tomorrow.""Tomorrow's Christmas Eve; I don't think we'll have much time alone." Jonah sighs. A million worries are wearing down his beautiful face. "Fuck it. I wanted to do this earlier today, but I can't wait any longer; let's get married."Iverem can practically feel her face cracking into two, but she seems to be making good at keeping her composure since Jonah hasn't yet noticed how horrified she is by what he's just said.What the fuck should I say, she thinks. Should I tell him I'm not ready? Oh my god, I'm really not ready for this, and I don't even know if I love him. No, if I tell him I'm not ready for marriage, he'll think I don't love him, and he'll be embarrassed and start thinking this whole relationship is a mistake. Then I really won't be able to look him in the eye, and this entire trip will go to shit.The slight headache she's been nursing turns into a full migraine. That bright white light Iverem saw when her snowmobile crashed starts spotting her vision again.Her legs buckle. "Woah, are you ok?" Jonah says, holding her steady.Iverem nods, and this sends a pulsing pain throughout her head. Fuck, maybe I do have a concussion. "I'm good. I'm just surprised, that's all.""So what do you think?" Jonah gives her one of his rare smiles that can win over almost anyone."Sure, let's get married."

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

From the orange tip of his cigarette, August watches Iverem practically sprint to the gazebo — just when he began to think that night two without sleep would be uneventful.He fights with the idea of following her. What he's thinking of doing isn't right. August knows that. But he's tired of living for everyone else; even someone like him needs something for himself. So, he follows Iverem.She doesn't notice him encroaching on her one-person conversation as she flips through her journal."That accident fried your brain?" he says.She jumps, dropping her diary; it falls underneath the gazebo's floorboard. "Shit," she says, looking over the top railing. "Well, thanks for that."August stands next to her, mimicking her by peeking over the railing. He searches for the journal but can't make it out in the darkness. "It'll come up," he says."Right," she says. "What do you want?"A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. Straight to the point, he can admire that. "I came to check up on you," he says.The look on her face suggests she doesn't seem to believe him. Iverem already knows his true intentions, but he continues to play oblivious by saying, " You check up on all the women your brother dates?""Just the ones that matter." Oh god, I sound so creepy; August cringes.Iverem stares at him, expressionless. Then, she bursts out laughing. "Yeah, that's not my best line," he says."No, it's not that," she says, gaining composure. "It's just that I'm the only woman your brother's ever dated, and you never seemed interested in me before."
True.
Jonah and Iverem are college sweethearts. August has seen her pass through these family events countless times, and he never tried to talk to her. Now, Iverem is quickly becoming someone he didn't know he needed."You're ... something," he says, "I plan to figure out what."This statement causes Iverem to furrow her eyebrows. Her eyes become impossibly dark, like wild honey. "So I'm like entertainment to you."August doesn't bother explaining himself.Iverem snorts. Typically, August finds such behaviour undignified, but coming from Iverem, the sound is endearing, almost melodic. "Whatever. You shouldn't make a habit out of checking on your brother's fiancée.""Are you telling me you guys are getting married now?" he says calmly."Seems that way," Iverem replies cavalierly as if she's discussing the weather.He doesn't like the idea of Jonah marrying Iverem. His pride won't allow him to admit he's jealous of Jonah. Still, it will enable him to recognize his loss, ignorance, and stupidity – how Jonah found Iverem before he did, how August had been patiently waiting his whole life to be happy, but that happiness never came.You can always change your mind, right? he thinks, about how you want to live.Fat snowflakes fall to the ground, over and into the gazebo, quieting the world. Creating a vacuum neither Iverem nor August can escape. Moments make memories; they also are an amalgamation of a person's life. And at this moment, August realizes nobody but him will ever care about his happiness – nobody but him can bring it to him."Are you happy, Iverem?" he says.She takes time to ponder his question, too long for someone who is actually happy. "No," she finally says."Then why are you doing all this?""Isn't this what everyone's supposed to do?" she says.Her naiveté beckons him to take advantage. August wants to tell Iverem that he can make her happy. Instead, he takes her hand and intertwines it with his own. The smoothness of Iverem's palm and the delicateness of her fingers coaxe him to pull her into an embrace.Iverem doesn't fight him at first. She lets August breathe in her perfume and rubs his stubble against her cool cheek. When he tries to kiss her, she begins to struggle out of his grasp."I don't think this is a good idea," she says.August doesn't care about what's good, smart, or right. He wants what's his.

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Give a man an inch, and he'll take a mile. And dear August is well over the inch Iverem is willing to give him.He ignores her thrashing and says: "If you could change one thing about your life, what would that be?"Iverem rolls her eyes. "What are we doing? Twenty-one questions?"The smile he gives her warms her chest. Iverem tries not to wonder why. "Just entertain me for a bit longer.""Fine." She makes a show of thinking about the question. "Maybe for you to fuck off."The crease that grows between his eyebrows suggests she's wearing at his patience. She sighs, "my childhood, I guess."He snakes a hand from her shoulder to the nape of her neck, not in a possessive manner but commanding. "Hmm..." he inquires, leaning in a bit. His smell, the musk of oranges and cardamom, makes her lightheaded."My mother; I think many things in my life would be different if I had a more supportive family.""I can relate to that," he says, that familial wound evident in the resonance of his voice. "Family always seems to be the biggest disappointment."For a moment, just a moment, Iverem sees that lost boy in August – unsure of himself, searching for approval. August's vulnerability would have repelled her if it wasn't for his grip on her neck. August is inconsolable, irredeemable. He's the dark cloud that ruins a sunny day. Jonah had told her so. Jonah's mother had also told her so. Then why did she understand the heaviness of his words? Why did she understand his pain?"You can let me go now," she whispers, eyes locked on his jacket zipper. She can't be this close to him right now. Iverem doesn't know if she can stop whatever's about to happen next."What if I don't want to let you go?" he whispers. "Iverem, look at me."
Why the fuck are we whispering?
He tugs at the roots of her braids, tilting her head until she meets his gaze. His desire is smouldering, whipping Iverem up into its burgeoning flame. When he kisses her, she doesn't fight him; his kiss is too consuming for her to even wonder why she doesn't put up a fight. There are too many "whys" pertaining to her attraction to August, but she decides to worry about that later.Her back ends up pinned to the gazebo's railing, her fingers running through his brown curls, her breath shallow. He rests his lips on her temple as the hand around her waist lands between her thighs in a bruising grip. There is pleasure in this pain; it is wrenching and violent, ugly and needy; it makes Iverem feel dirty. But as soon as August slips his hand into her underwear, sliding his fingers along the folds of her cunt, she ceases to think."Come for me," he says, pressing down on her clit before plunging a finger into her.She moans, throwing her head back. Snowflakes hang onto her hair and those that don't sting her hot skin. The expanse of her neck is open wide, exposed. And when August's lips and teeth seize this unclaimed landscape, instead of feeling weak, helpless, as she usually does when she is about to come, Iverem feels free."Thank you," Iverem says when the buzz of her climax wears off.He smirks at her."You're ruining the moment," she says."What?" he shrugs, pulling his hand out of her pyjama pants as seamlessly as he slipped them in. "I didn't say anything.""That look on your face says more than words ever could.""Jonah never make you come before?" There's a teasing intonation to how he asks this question; he's being lighthearted. But there's nothing lighthearted about this situation. Iverem finally knew what she had to do. She had to break up with Jonah because he's never made her feel the way August did just now, which is deeply depressing. She barely even likes August."I need to go," she says without glancing at him.He doesn't say anything, not even to call her back or tell her how fond he is of her. No matter how silly it sounds, Iverem wishes August would keep her from having to return to her life just a bit longer. But maybe it's best that he doesn't.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Iverem's mother calls her around four in the morning. Jonah is still sleeping at this hour, restless and constantly turning in bed, but still sleeping nonetheless, so Iverem locks herself in the bathroom and turns on the showerhead before answering the call."Iverem?" she says."It is my number," Iverem says. "Who else would it be?"Her mother kisses her teeth, her Bajan accent seeping into her voice as she says: "don't get smart. I will reach through this phone and smack you upside the head."
Fair enough.
Feeling all sticky and icky from her late-night rendezvous with August, she takes off her clothes in preparation for a shower. "Why are you calling me so early?" she says."Why are you still up?"There was no point trying to get a coherent answer from her mother about the things she did and why she did them, under any casual conversation or in the heat of an argument. Iverem also didn't care enough to get into a fight over it. Attempting to be the bigger person, though deep down she knew she was just as fucked up as her mother, she continued the conversation. "I couldn't sleep."Iverem gathers her hair into a bun and throws off her wool sweater. "Cause you don't eat meat," her mother says."That has nothing to do with me being unable to sleep at night," she says, her voice rising with each word. Iverem bites her lip to keep herself from saying anything more.Her mother huffs over the phone but doesn't comment on the tone of her voice. "I need a place to stay by February."How bad are things right now? Iverem thinks. Her thoughts are momentarily disrupted when she discovers a hickey on her neck. She nearly drops her phone at the sight of it. The hickey is small and at the base of her neck, a rouge colour that fades into a blushing pink before becoming a light umber like the rest of her complexion. It’s like a sign of her burgeoning desire for August. This hickey isn't something Iverem can wash off. This hickey will constantly remind Iverem how she failed Jonah and herself.
I won't survive this trip.
"It's fine; you can stay with me," Iverem says. She hopes this response gets her out of this conversation quicker."You gonna pay for my ticket?" Flight prices from New York to Texas aren't crazy expensive. Iverem is willing to suffer the monetary loss. "Sure, whatever.""What's going on?" her mother's impatience rings through the phone. This woman had the nerve to be bothered by her."I'm just on my period," Iverem lies."Well, get some sleep," she says. "You sound like you need it."In the shower, August's smile flickers through her mind's eye. His smile crinkles the corner of his eyes and illuminates the golden undertones of his skin. His smile reminds Iverem of how her father used to smile at her before his cancer diagnosis. Apart from the obvious, she's unsure what else he could ever want from her, what she could give him besides her body. Her body... yeah, that sounds about right.Her body: collateral, scarred, used up, not really hers. It belonged to god, a man, or her mother but never really her.The memory of Michael's wicked glare the last night she saw him seizes her. Having had enough of this shower, she returns to the bedroom to find Jonah on his phone."You were in there a long time," he says."I needed to think." She quickly changes into some clothes. Sitting on her side of the bed, facing away from him, she says: "I need to talk to you.""What's up?"She studies him from over her shoulder. His gaze is warm, eyes a calming evergreen. Iverem has always felt content around Jonah. He's good for Iverem, but she can tell she's no good for him."I think we need some time apart."Quickly, he sits up. "Why?"She removes the engagement ring and places it on her side table. She goes out of her way to make this action a spectacle. "I've been cheating on you," she heaves out the words.He's rounding the bed now, kneeling in front of her, hands on her knees, trying to look her in the eye. "What are you talking about?"She holds her breath, anticipating. Iverem is at the precipice of no return. The varnishing of her mahogany side table is suddenly captivating."Iverem," Jonah says, trying to keep her attention."I've been cheating on you, and I'm sorry. I don't think you deserve to be with someone like me.""Are you leaving me for him?"Iverem is taken aback by Jonah's question. "No, of course not."The tenseness in Jonah's shoulders eased a bit. "Ok. Do I know them?"He's handling this well. "Yes.""Then I don't want to know who it is." He then gets up and walks into the bathroom.Iverem sits there, stupidly waiting for him to reappear. When she becomes exasperated, she knocks on the bathroom door. "Jonah, I'm heading back to Dallas for Christmas."He doesn't say anything."I'm always here for you if you want to talk," she says.Again, nothing.She packs her shit up as quickly as possible and leaves the room. In the lobby, "Jingle Bells" plays on the speakers. No matter how hard Iverem wipes her face, the wetness dampening her cheeks always returns.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Seven Months Later
Tick tock, tick tock, click. The sound repeats.
Can someone shut that goddamn thing off?
"Stop that," Iverem's mother says, swiping her hands from her mouth. "Nasty habit."The nurse behind the counter watches them from above her cat-eye glasses. The sanitized white walls of the clinic begin to close in on Iverem. Her mother is right; nail biting is a nasty habit, but it's the only thing keeping her calm right now.It's the fourth of July tomorrow. Time has passed, but Iverem feels as though nothing has changed. A week after she left Colorado back to Texas, Jonah started calling her. They had intense conversations about their relationship and what was lacking in it. Once Iverem felt like she'd given him the closure he needed, she kept their nightly calls short and diplomatic.But Jonah was the only person who checked on Iverem when her mother forgot to turn the oven off and almost burned down her apartment, or left the patio door open and let her cat run out. And even though Iverem never found her cat, Jonah was there throughout the ordeal. Now, they were planning things together. Iverem didn't know if she wanted to go down this route with Jonah again, but he made things easy. Yet, after all the shit she's been through, didn't she deserve for her life to be easy, to have the privilege to surrender to the inevitable.Iverem's never been good at letting go, though. She realizes this as each hour passes, as her dread increases over the idea of attending Jonah's Fourth of July barbeque. She's going to see his family for the first time since Christmas and doesn't know what to expect. Do they know what she did? Is August going to be there? And if he is, how the fuck is she supposed to act?Tick tock, tick tock, click.The doctor's door bursts open. "Iverem, come in," the doctor says.Thank god, she sighs.Dr. Collins does her mother's general wellness check while Iverem studies the brain chart on her office wall."How have things been since you've finally settled in Dallas?" Dr. Collin says."It's so damn humid here. I've been having –" she blanks on the word. "What do you call that thing where you get too hot.""Hot flashes?" Dr. Collins answers."Yes, that's it," her mother says."And you," Dr. Collins swivels her chair in Iverem's direction. "How have you been doing?""I've been good." This appointment is about her mother's health, not hers.The doctor jots down some notes. She turns around and rifles through some papers in her drawer, looking for a pamphlet, which she hands to her mother. She smiles at Iverem's mother before she says anything else. "The progression of your memory loss has decreased since you've started taking life a little slower. I suggest incorporating some physical exercises to keep yourself active—keep your brain stimulated."On the drive back to Iverem's apartment, her mother indignantly looks through the pamphlet. When they arrive home, she throws it in the trash."Do this, don't do that," she huffs. "I'm tired of everyone telling me what to do."Iverem ignores her. She starts biting her nails again.~Jonah's Fourth of July barbeque is in full swing. His mom and dad are on his deck, sitting on some patio chairs, talking over beers. His high school friends, Sandra and Omar, are testing out not-so-legal fireworks and sparklers on the lawn. And Iverem hides in the kitchen, prepping the hamburgers and hotdogs while Jonah operates the grill. There's a slow country song playing from the TV speaker. Iverem attempts to match her pitch to the soothing tenor of the singer's vocals. The day is strangely idyllic.When she heads outside to hand Jonah the rest of the patties, even though her sapphire ten-gallon hat shields her from most of the summer sun, the humidity still causes her to sweat."Thank you, honey," Jonah says, kissing her cheek. "You good?"Why does everyone keep asking me that?Surprisingly, she is feeling good. Three shots of tequila and a lime mojito will make anybody – in any circumstance – feel good. But she doesn't tell Jonah this; she just nods."We can use some help over here!" Sandra says as she and Omar fail to hang a piñata."You mind?" Jonah says."No. I mean, sure, I can," she says.Omar and Sandra lift the glittery multicoloured donkey piñata. Iverem keeps the pole still. Gold and emerald tissue paper fall on them."Steady," Omar says."Why is this thing so fucking heavy?" Iverem says."There are about ten mini vodka bottles in there," Sandra says.She laughs. "Jesus, are y'all trying to send us to the hospital?""It ain't fun if there ain't no consequences," she says.Iverem doesn't know why, but those words strike a chord within her.Movement on the deck grabs her attention. By the patio chairs, August and his wife exchange pleasantries with everyone. The wavy dark brown hair that used to fall on August's forehead and curl behind his ears is gone. A militaristic buzzcut has replaced the luscious locks, giving his face a sharper profile. And a deep summer tan has turned his beige skin to bronze, bringing forth the vibrancy of his cool green eyes and making him appear almost ethereal.When their gazes connect, her mouth goes dry, and she drops the pole. The piñata busts open. Liquor bottles and candies spill onto the grass. August smirks at her before he looks away. Iverem doesn't feel so good anymore."Shit," Omar says. Sandra and Omar scramble to clean up the mess.Iverem apologizes to them and heads back into the kitchen.What is she going to do? She can't avoid him the whole night. Iverem will have to talk to him at some point, but what will she say? Most importantly, what will he say? He's not stupid enough to snitch on her to Jonah, but will he hold that night in the gazebo over her head? She shotguns a bottle of beer. And then another. She stops binging when her vision starts to get hazy."It's been a while," August says.Speak of the devil. She almost jumps out of her skin at the sound of his voice. This man should carry a bell with him."It has," she says. She takes a big breath before she faces him. "How are you?"He leans on the counter next to her, his eyes probing her. "I doubt you really care."Why does he always have to be so difficult? she sighs. She might as well get to the point, then. "Ok, well, are we cool?""Me and you?" he says, wearing her patience thin. "We'll always be cool."A smile blossoms on her lips as relief overcomes her. He smiles at her, too. Maybe they could get over their ridiculous infatuation for one another and even become friends. It wasn't strange for things like this to happen. In college, Sandra and Omar used to date. After they broke up, they became friends again. They didn't get into petty arguments or jealous fights over each other's following partners, so Iverem wholeheartedly believes August and her can at least be cordial."What're you thinking?" he says.He seems closer than he was before. His breath warms her cheek, and the smoke on his clothes is strong – intoxicating. Tingles run up and down her spine. She can't quite make out the angular features of August's face anymore.A blur, like the streak of a fingerprint over her eyes, impairs her vision. Her world tilts and then goes dark.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

August wasn't particularly thrilled to move from Maryland to Texas.He wasn't fond of the South or its crazy heat. When he landed in the state, he almost regretted accepting the bookkeeper job at his father's advertising company. God knows his mother did."What a lovely city," his wife commented when they arrived at their new home. Unlike August, who was already sweaty, she fit right in Dallas with her outlandish wide-brim hat and sunglasses.Devon is a chameleon. She could blend into any environment she was put into. August admires that quality in her. He wished he was as malleable as her – that he could look at this bookkeeping job as an opportunity rather than an obligation.A couple of weeks later, he started officially working at his father's advertising company. The downtown offices were swanky and had a great view of the city. His daddy certainly had quite a lot of money, considering his offices almost touched the clouds.His orientation included sitting in a meeting room and watching cars bustle through downtown Dallas while his father and Jonah told him the ins and outs of the company. For almost over a decade, August worked in a remote position for a consulting firm. This onsite position, where his father and Jonah were his shadows, was more draining to his energy than the actual bookkeeping job.Oddly, swimming or walking his Rottweiler Ladybird no longer centred him after a long day at work. These days, August found flipping through Iverem's journal more grounding when he felt himself spiralling into depression. That night in the gazebo, after Iverem had stormed back to her cabin, August had gone underneath the gazebo to look for her journal. He had planned to return the diary to her the following day, but she'd already left for Texas. Apparently, Jonah and Iverem had broken up.August will return the journal to her someday. For now, he wants to keep this part of Iverem to himself, just a bit longer – even at this moment, as she looks at him with her big brown eyes and that teasing smile that makes him want to give her the world.I've dreamt about you almost every night since that day, he wants to tell her. But suddenly, she's falling forward, face first. Just before she faceplants onto the kitchen's marble floor, August catches her by the waist.A knock booms throughout the house. Jonah rushes to the front door. He halts when he catches sight of Iverem and August. "What's going on?" he says."Uhh, I think she might've had too much to drink," August says."Shit," Jonah says, reaching for Iverem. August is about to hand her off to him when the knocking starts again. "That must be the coolers I just ordered.""I can go get them for you."Jonah shakes his head. "They need my I.D.; take her up to my room before my mom comes in and sees her like this."August looks from Iverem and back to Jonah, a little perturbed. "Fine."Thank god the trek to Jonah's bedroom is short. Iverem's fucking cowboy hat keeps jabbing into his cheek, and that shit was really starting to annoy him. Even unconscious, she somehow manages to test his patience. After August settles Iverem down onto Jonah's bed, he starts snooping around Jonah's room.August wanders into his walk-in closet, skimming his fingers along the island that holds his watches and cufflinks. His shoes are neatly lined up underneath racks of clothes. When August gets bored staring at rows of khaki pants, button-ups and loafers, he heads back into the bedroom. The four-poster bed barely takes up any space, and the loveseat and T.V. combo in the corner of the room practically screams money. Jonah's room certainly showcases his ostentatious wealth. August does good for his age, but shit, Jonah does better.Where is he getting all this money? It can't be all from the company, he thinks.Royal blue drapes cover the large window facing the backyard. As he pulls the curtains aside, the glint of a golden picture frame catches his eye. The golden picture frame holds a photo of Iverem and Jonah. In this photo, they appear younger, happier, and less stressed. Iverem's arm is around Jonah's shoulder, and she's looking at him... she's looking at him as if he's everything she's ever wanted. August never knew she could look at someone like that. His chest burns at the thought of her looking at anyone other than him like that.
I never had a chance.
Iverem murmurs something as she moves to lie on her back. The cowboy hat causes her head to tilt at an uncomfortable angle, so August takes it off her. She grumbles again, and he can't help but smile at her adorableness. A flash of sunlight streaks across her face, illuminating the richness of her skin and the intricacies of her long lashes. Transfixed, he smooths her curly hair. Her curls are soft and thick. He wants to run his fingers through her hair, tug it as she moans his name.August stops himself before he goes any further. He turns to leave the room. But instead, he locks the door.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

What am I doing?
Still, his feet carry him back to her bedside, towards their demise.He stands before Iverem, staring at her for what feels like an eternity. He's read her diary. He knows what Michael did to her, but he can't bring himself to walk out of this room. Especially not while she's laid across the bed like his sleeping beauty, palms upward, ready to receive him.
What the fuck am I doing?
August contemplates this as he sits beside her, feeling his way up her toned thigh. His hand lands on her crotch; he holds onto its heat for a minute before quickly jerking back.She loves silver jewelry. He remembers reading this in her journal. She even went as far as compiling a list of online jewelry boutiques that sold her favourite pieces. August has never been much into jewelry, yet the sight of her belly button ring peeking from underneath her knitted halter-top dress intrigues him.August last saw a belly button ring on his high school girlfriend. She was in track and field and got one to fit in with her teammates. That relationship didn't last, nor did that belly button ring. August thinks belly button piercings, or any piercings for that matter, are a sign of a rebellious adolescent. Iverem also went through a rather alternative phase in her teenage years. Again, he remembers this from reading it in her journal.In her journal, Iverem wrote that she regretted getting a butterfly stick and poke from her best friend when she was sixteen. She regretted most things she did in high school, but this piercing caused him to think otherwise. This revelation somehow left him feeling deceived.His hands settle on her once more, attempting to discover things about her she won't even share with her diary. With each breath she takes, the swell of her breasts beckons him to go further with her. His dick is undoubtedly up for this venture. The damn evil thing keeps getting harder and harder. It practically has a pulse of its own now.
Am I really going to fucking do this?
August decides that his needs outweigh his ethics. He wedges his body between her thighs, bringing his forehead against hers, skin on fire. Her mouth is slightly parted. Their breaths mingle; hers the smell of liquor and sweets. He smiles to himself because, of course, Iverem would taste like liquor and sweets. In that instant, he comes to a resolution. Just a kiss, and then he'll leave.
Just a kiss.
He wets his chapped lips. He dips his tongue along her bottom lip, then flicks it against her tongue. A moan rumbles in his throat as he sucks her lips. He can't help but draw himself into her mouth, tasting her essence. This kiss is consuming, like his desire for Iverem. It seems like all those seven months of yearning for her wants to erupt out of him. So, August grinds his hardness into her core to alleviate the intensity of his throbbing cock.She sighs.The sound is soft and heavenly; it sends a shiver throughout his body. This is all the motivation he needs to continue. To continue peppering kisses on her cheeks, the freckles on her nose, behind her ears, along her jaw and down her neck.August pulls on the strings of her dress. When he awkwardly lifts it off her, she flops back down – arms on either side of her head. He memorizes the curve of her pert breasts and the beauty of her hard brown nipples. He slurps and nips her soft skin, trailing kisses from her collarbone to her chest.
Maybe just a few touches.
He gropes her breasts before sucking her nipples. Circling his tongue around it, then teasing the taut flesh with his teeth. She lets out a hushed moan. It whips him into a frenzy, and he removes her panties.She's panting now, and he's panting, too. Both of them are drenched in sweat. The wet kisses all over her body glisten in the light. She's managed to tuck her head against her shoulder. Her curls have fallen over her forehead, framing her face like a halo. She looks so at peace. She looks so young. She looks so innocent. Too young. Too innocent.Her pussy is bare, supple as he kneads his fingers into it. He skims his index finger along her slit. Her wetness coats his hand, and her fragrance wafts into the air. Functioning on autopilot, he burrows his nose at her entrance. The aromatic intensity of spring flowers dazes him. Tongue burrowed past her pink folds as if searching for a pearl; instead, he discovers, savours, her heady musk.August can't hold himself back any longer. He deserves this anyway. She gets to tempt him throughout Christmas in Colorado and then leave him wanting more. It's unfair that he has to carry the brunt of whatever's happening between them. Still, he asks god for forgiveness. He asks Iverem for forgiveness. Ultimately, what absolves him from his guilt is that nobody will know what he's about to do. His shame, though, will stay with him forever.Nobody has to know. He reiterates this to himself with more fervour: Nobody will know.August grabs one of her knees, curling the leg around his waist. After he unbuckles his pants, fisting his dick, he guides it towards her cunt with a violent urgency."Fuck," he says as he violates her.He slowly eases himself into her tight, hot walls. Inch by inch, he thrusts deeper into her until his pubic hair tickles her skin, until he can only see the root of his penis, until their pelvises are connected. That still isn't enough for him. August wants to be so deep in her that he can practically touch her soul, so he continues to push into her.She grunts.As he pushes his cock in and out, her tits jiggle. He takes pleasure in her body the only way he knows how to: by quickening his pace, going as deep as he can, and pulling himself into her. He moves faster, his cock pushing, straining, grinding, driving into her, his tongue moving in her mouth, trapping their moans between them, their bodies squelching against each other, her folds pulling at the head of his cock as he pulls out, her walls clenching around his girth as he pushes back in, pussy vibrating as she orgasms, and then all at once his cum spurting inside her.He lays over her for several minutes, letting the last of his semen drip into her cunt. She's everywhere – in his nose, on his tongue, burrowed under his skin. This is all too much for him.August runs to Jonah's ensuite bathroom and throws up in the toilet. Once he expels the rest of his chicken quesadilla lunch, he returns to the bedroom to right her clothing. The moment he wipes the last bit of his cum from her thighs, he realizes the tightness in his chest has worsened.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Something's wrong.Fireworks pop and splatter in the sky. Their vibrancy paints the walls of Jonah's bedroom red and blue before darkness befalls the room again. There is a moment of silence, then another firework launches into the air. The deafening sound of this explosion startles Iverem awake. And immediately, she knows something is wrong.Her head is pounding. Her neck is killing her, and god, her whole body aches. Shit, she's never going to drink again. And what's that smell? She sniffs herself but can't quite pinpoint the familiar scent.In Jonah's bathroom, she attempts to fix her curls. The summer humidity has made her hair a frizzy mess. Since her afro won't smooth down, she foregoes the cowboy hat and puts her hair into pigtails. Even worse than her hair is her makeup. Her eyeliner is smudged around her eyes, giving her a rocking smoky eye. Evanescence-era Iverem would be proud. Feeling all nostalgic and whatnot, she decides to embrace the hangover look.She finds a painkiller underneath Jonah's sink. Already feeling better, she convinces herself, even though her body feels not like her own. Now, how the fuck do I get out here without anybody noticing?Iverem can hear everyone on the deck laughing, their voices wildly animated. Her presence will surely ruin the whole mood of the evening. Iverem knows she can't save face in front of Jonah's family and friends. She can't do anything right these days, so why even bother? She'll just send Jonah a message later telling him she left.Downstairs, the main floor is empty. Good, almost out of here.She decides to wait for her Uber out on the porch. Wrong idea! Devon and August are already occupying most of the foyer. At the sight of them, Iverem hastily retreats into the living room."You feeling better?" Devon says, ruining her escape plan.August ducks his head down to inhale his cigarette. He avoids meeting Iverem's gaze. His abrupt disregard for her causes a stupid stabbing pain to radiate in her chest. Damn it, I can't deal with this shit right now."No, I don't feel so good," she says. "I'm gonna head home."Devon smiles. Her teeth look like stars sparkling in the night. "I hope you feel better," she says."Thank you," Iverem says, attempting to smile.The silence is so suffocating that it almost materializes."Are you and Jonah doing better now?" Devon says.Iverem swivels her head from the road to Devon, searching for where she found the audacity to ask such a question. August is also suddenly interested in their conversation."Sorry. I just meant that Jonah mentioned the engagement was off, and I wanted to know if you guys... Nevermind! I have no idea what I'm talking about; I'm drunk."Jonah is talking about me behind my back, Iverem thinks. What has he been telling everyone?Thankfully, August puts them both out of their misery. He throws his cigarette onto Jonah's lawn and says: "I'm heading to the backyard."As Devon follows after him, she says: "We should catch up soon."Iverem spends the whole ride back to her apartment trying her hardest not to think about August, and her best to devise an adequate apology for Jonah for suddenly leaving his party. Nowadays, all she does is apologize to Jonah. She's basically the world's shittiest girlfriend. With more resolve this time, she tells herself nothing will ever happen between her and August again. She already has enough to atone for in this lifetime.After she takes off her shoes, in dire need of a snack, she journeys into the kitchen. Turning the kitchen light on, Iverem notices her mother sitting on the living room sofa in deep thought. Her hair is wrapped for the night, and she wears a satin lavender pyjama set. Iverem has always been amazed at her mother’s effortless beauty. She expected the Alzheimer's diagnosis to diminish that light within her, but it seemed only to intensify her mother's ingenuity – and her vainness."Sitting in the dark, staring into nothingness, is definitely not creepy," she says, layering her words with a sarcastic tone."Come sit with me," her mother says.Great, she's feeling sentimental. These moments were becoming more frequent since her mother moved in with her. Iverem warms up some leftover curry before she joins her mother on the couch, taking her time because she knows this conversation will last at least an hour.Her smile crinkles the corner of her eyes. "I've been thinking about that little box in the Bronx that we used to live in.""Who could hardly forget about the bed bugs, roaches, and neighbourhood fights at the crack of dawn? That shit stays with you forever."Her mother kisses her teeth. "Iverem, you loved that neighbourhood. You were always down at the bodega with your friends."Iverem shrugs. "I don't know. It just wasn't the same after Dad passed away."Iverem's father was a librarian but a man of few words. A Nigerian immigrant who didn't know how to speak English well but still loved Tolstoy novels. He showed Iverem the beauty of literature and writing. He also gifted Iverem her first journal. It was one of the few gifts that her father ever gave her. It was the same journal she lost in Colorado and could never find when she returned to look for it underneath the gazebo."Remember when he took you to your first African Market, and you fitted for a Buba?"Iverem smiles at the memory. "I think I still have it in my closet.""Go put it on!" her mother says."Mom, it barely fits.""Then you better make my grandbaby wear it," she says, pointing her finger at Iverem. "And don't forget to send me the photos."Iverem laughs, but the feeling of this joy is hollow. "Do you ever think about how different life would be if he didn't pass away?"When she was twelve, Iverem never realized how much borrowed time she had with her father. Iverem now wonders how much time she has with her mother before this disease gets the best of her. Maybe now is the time to reconcile with her mother, for them to make amends for their past transgressions against each other."I think about it all the time," her mother says. "I think about him all the time."

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Spending hours reviewing ten years of financial records has August seeing numbers by lunchtime. His father's company's financial books looked consistent until about a year or two ago. Within the last two years, the company incurred debt from an automated clearing house transfer account, which took $50,000 quarterly from his father's advertising company. There were no files detailing the materials his father's company acquired from this company. Neither did a contractual agreement exist between this so-called supplier company and his father's company.August realized then that he had much work ahead of him. He's a bookkeeper, not an investigator. But whoever used to manage his father's advertising company's books did a shit job at it. And now August will have to spend weeks upon weeks sifting through contracts to get a contact number on this supposed supplier company leeching almost a quarter million dollars from his father's advertising company."I'm going out to buy lunch. Wanna join?" Jonah says, standing by August's office door.Jonah is undoubtedly an unwelcome presence. August hasn't talked to him since his Fourth of July party, and he wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. Jonah reminded him of Iverem. And Iverem, she reminds him of the worst thing he's ever done. But his brother is unavoidable. Sooner or later, there is going to be a reckoning. August is holding his breath till then.
Fuck it; I need some air.
"Sure," August says. "Give me a minute."As August shuts down his laptop and scrummages through his desk for his wallet, Jonah starts perusing his desk. "You're going through the record books," Jonah says.He tosses Jonah a casual glance. His father wanted this whole operation under wraps, so poor Jonah had to stay out of the loop. "Yeah. Dad wants me to get familiar with the company's financial history.""Right," Jonah says. The frown on his face suggests he doesn't quite believe August."Where are we heading?" August says, trying to ease the tension."My favourite spot," he says. "They have the best drinks in Dallas."They exit the building and cross through traffic onto the other side of the street. "We drinking on the job now?" August says."Live a little, August," Jonah says.
You have no clue.
Omar waves at them from the end of the block. When they catch up to him, August takes in the glass restaurant. It's a high-end joint with a business casual dress code and probably overpriced appetizers and entrees, not a surprising choice for a silver spoon-fed kid like Jonah. They walk right past the hostess and into the bustling kitchen. No one pays them any mind. At the back of the kitchen is another door. This door is made of heavy dark brown wood and has medieval-age-type engravings. Curiosity tempts August to continue following Jonah and Omar.Past this door, a steep set of stairs led to a speakeasy illuminated by red-tinted candlelight. The walls are decorated with classical paintings of men fighting as angels and demons whisper in their ears, swaying their judgment. A bartender mans a ceiling-high shelf full of an assortment of liquors."How did you find a place like this?" August says."I've lived in Dallas my whole life," Jonah says. "I know a thing or two about this city.""Many gems in this city. We could show you around sometime," Omar says.Omar and Jonah work together in the company's public relations department. They graduated from the same college, interned at the same company, and once fought for the same department head position. Jonah obviously got the job due to nepotism. Yet despite the similar paths in career and subsequent rivalry because of it, the two men were as thick as thieves. Since August began working at the company, they've been trying to ingratiate him into their little clique. August and Jonah have never been close; they detest each other, and not in an adorable sitcom way. So, his sudden interest in August is downright suspicious.August doesn't reply to Omar's proposition."Are you settling in well?" Jonah says, unbuttoning his suit and leaning back into the booth once they're seated."As best as I can," August says."Over the weekend, Devon told me she's ready to assimilate into Southern society—even looking to go to a rodeo this summer," Jonah says, chuckling. "Wait and see; she'll soon start calling herself a southern belle.""Rodeo seasons passed. Y'all will have to wait till next year to go," Omar says."Every season is rodeo season," Jonah says. "And Iverem and I wouldn't mind taking you and Devon to one."His brother isn't going to leave him alone until he's got what he's wanted. August is unsure what Jonah could want from him, but he doesn't succumb to the pressure."We'll have to take that offer up another time," August says, measuring his breaths. "I'm visiting some relatives in Oaxaca. I won't be back in Texas till next month."This isn't a lie; it's more like an excuse. August and his mother went to Oaxaca every year to celebrate the Guelaguetza festival. This year would be no different. Apart from getting to visit the only relatives he knew who didn't view his existence as a hindrance, Oaxaca is his reprieve from America and white people like his father and Jonah.Jonah rolls his eyes. Before Jonah can say anything else, the bartender takes their order. Omar and Jonah order an old fashion. August orders a coffee. Unlike them, he has a long day ahead of him."We're about to close on a big contract in the next couple of weeks," Jonah says, sipping his drink."You think you and your dad can actually close this deal?" Omar says."Shit, I know it.""Good news coming our way?" August says.Jonah gives everyone at the table a smug smile. "Yep, just wait and see."The rest of the workday is uneventful, just more sifting through papers and finding nothing. After he leaves the office, he scarcely beats traffic to arrive five minutes early to Devon's gynecologist appointment. A year of trying for a baby and being unable to conceive wasn't typical for two seemingly healthy adults. Devon had questions, but more so, she wanted answers.In the waiting room, August's determined wife sits closest to the doctor's door. She scans the room consecutively, looking for August. When she catches sight of him, her blue eyes sparkle. August wishes he felt the same. Their chemistry hasn't been the same since Christmas, and now he can't touch her without feeling uneasy. He wonders how much time he has before she notices his behaviour."You're not late for once," she says teasingly.Devon leans in for a kiss. August ignores the gesture. His hand settles on her thigh instead. He doesn't understand why the smoothness of her leg causes him to think of Iverem – of her flush face careening into a pillow.When he moves into the doctor's office, his suit feels all too tight at the thought of her. Devon does most of the talking, as she usually does. This doctor's office has a nice view of a park, so August busies his mind with the intricacies of the forest. The fountain at the centre of the greenery is a refuge for pigeons and crows.
To be a bird, free to go and be wherever.
"August, are you listening?" Devon says. There's a tearful look in her eye as if she can't believe he's not listening, or maybe it's about what the doctor said. He can't tell; perhaps it's both.The doctor clears her throat. "I was just telling Devon that we will have to look at alternative options for fertilization."Devon reaches out for his hand. August complies with her request. "I have a low egg count. We don't think I'll be able to conceive naturally."August doesn't know what to say, so he waits for someone to fill the silence. As he comes to terms with the possible future of never becoming a father, August feels no sadness about this discovery."We can talk a bit more about your next options," the doctor says.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Three more minutes. Just three more minutes.Her phone rings.Iverem picks up the call. "What?""Come on; we gotta go. We're going to be late," Jonah says."I'll be down soon," she says.Iverem looks back at the pregnancy test, willing the thing to give her an answer. It's been over a month since she had her last period. And though Iverem has an irregular menstrual cycle, her periods always come a week before or later than her previous one. Other than that, she and Jonah always used protection. They were always careful. So how could this happen when they were always careful? Finally, an answer pops up on the pregnancy test. The results are inconclusive."Fuck!" she says, throwing the pregnancy test at the wall.The phone rings again. This time, Iverem doesn't pick it up. Instead, She grabs her bag and races to her apartment door."Where are you going?" her mother yells from the kitchen.She says: "out with Jonah."In his car, Jonah gazes at his reflection from the visor mirror, fixing his dark brown locks with a huff whenever he's dissatisfied with his profile. Iverem shimmies into the passenger seat, hoping to be inconspicuous. Maybe he won't get too mad."They're already there," he says, flicking the visor mirror shut."Sorry," she says. "I had to take care of some things.""Iverem, you know how I hate being late," he says, putting on his sunglasses. He'll never let her see it, but Iverem can tell he's frustrated with her."C'mon, it's only August," she says playfully.She gently massages the back of his neck. Usually, this works to ease the now constant tension in their relationship. Today, not so much. He shrugs her hand off and scolds her: "You should always make a good impression on people, no matter who it is."Iverem scoffs. She didn't want to go to the rodeo with August and his wife. Though their row is settled, she still wants to be nowhere near August. He makes her feel out of control and crazy. And those two emotions or feelings, or whatever the fuck they are, are not things a woman like her should ever feel. Not again. Iverem couldn't afford another breakdown, not after what happened with Michael.She fists her jean shorts to keep herself from saying another word.Jonah sighs, stilling her fidgeting fingers with his palm. He intertwines their hands as a peace offering. "I don't mean to be harsh with you. It's just August's in my orbit now, and I don't know what to make of it."
Neither do I.
They're silent for most of the ride. Once Jonah parks the car, though the ire between them is thick, they make their way to the stadium hand in hand. Never mind that their failed proposal looms over their relationship or that Jonah will never forgive Iverem for cheating; appearances will always matter to Jonah. And they have an image to uphold; even though people no longer believe they are a picture-perfect couple, they are still pretending to be one. The stadium is mostly empty. A few people are littered around the bleachers, most likely frequent attendees or lovers of rodeos. Iverem evades August and Devon's presence for some time by loitering around the concession. When she finally decides to buy the blue raspberry and cherry swirl cotton candy instead of the jalapeno-flavoured popcorn, the rodeo clown's act is almost done.The rodeo clown is stuck in a barrel. A bull mascot rounds the barrel, eventually deciding it's not a threat. When the mascot turns its back, the barrel rises, and the clown's multicoloured leatherette shoes appear underneath it. Shouts from attendees cause the bull to turn around, catching the clown in the middle of their escape. The mascot launches itself into the clown. The clown has met his demise.Laughter erupts from the audience. Across from where Iverem is standing, Devon seems to be enjoying herself, but Jonah and August—not so much. They have the same bored and discontented look on their faces. Iverem realizes at that moment that if August and Jonah ever realized how alike they are and how similar their childhoods were, they wouldn't feel so alone all the time; they wouldn't continue punishing the women in their lives for feeling so lonely.Iverem sits next to Devon. "Want some?" she says, offering her some cotton candy.Devon declines.August won't acknowledge Iverem's presence – he won't even look at her. Iverem knows she should be ecstatic that he's returned to ignoring her existence, but a gnawing in her chest won't let her embrace that relief. She doesn't feel relieved that August is finally leaving her alone. She's rather distraught at the idea that they'll return to being mere acquaintances."How was Mexico?" Jonah asks.August takes a sip of his beer before he answers. "Good.""Well, while you were on vacation, Dad and I got the branding contract," Jonah says."That's great news, Jonah," Devon says.Iverem refrains from rolling her eyes at Jonah's boastful nature, but August certainly doesn't hold back from doing just that. She smiles to herself at August's candidness. When he notices her smiling like a lunatic, he gives her an odd look. She withdraws from his gaze. She's never been a coward, but he's been looking at her differently lately. His glares are laced with a veneer of distaste that makes her to feel worthless."Our numbers are going to be through the roof this quarter. We might even get bonuses for all our hard work," Jonah says."We'll see," August says. His words are ominous enough to cause Jonah to sit up and pay attention."The books are adding up, right?"August shakes his head slightly. Before Jonah can say anything else, a commotion in the stadium catches their attention. A horse has thrown one of the vaqueros into the bleachers. While some cowboys pull the vaquero from between seats, the rest try to wrestle the steer to the ground. The announcer declares an early intermission. Everyone's relieved to be excused.During intermission, Iverem and Devon attempt to use the restrooms. The dispensers are out of soap and paper towels. Some of the sinks won't turn on, and none of the stalls will lock. Iverem holds a door closed while Devon relieves herself."What a mess," Devon says."I think we were better off going to dinner," Iverem says. Devon's exasperated chuckle echoes throughout the restroom. "No, I mean the brothers."I have no place to judge, Iverem thinks. I'm as fucked up as them."That's just how they are," Iverem says. "Deep down, somewhere in their hearts, they probably love each other."The bathroom stall door swings open. "It doesn't mean we have to be like them," Devon smiles brightly at Iverem as she says this. But instead of feeling honoured (or whatever the hell you're supposed to feel when your boyfriend's sister-in-law is trying to bond with you), all Iverem can think of is Christmas in Colorado under the gazebo with August and the way his mouth tasted and the feel of his fingers inside her.Iverem gives Devon a feeble nod as she struggles not to choke on her guilt. Devon stares at Iverem's reflection in the mirror, washing her hands with clinical meticulousness. God, does she know?"We've been trying to conceive for over a year now," she says. We decided to give up last month.""I'm sorry," Iverem says. All of a sudden, Iverem feels even shittier. She squeezes Devon's shoulder in a comforting gesture. This causes the woman's eyes to tear up, turning her azure eyes into a stormy violet."It could be worse." She snorts. We're looking into adopting. Do you know there are over 400,000 kids in foster care in the U.S.? This is an opportunity for August and me to change a kid's life, so maybe this is meant to be."Iverem nods again.Outside the concession stand, Iverem watches August and Devon fail at mimicking a happy couple, or maybe they were never happy and never cared to pretend to be like her and Jonah. Either way, she marvels at the comfort they have amongst each other and the lack of refinement in their interactions. They are utterly themselves, flawed and all. What would her relationship with Jonah look like if they were honest with each other? Would they even stand a chance?"We're going to head home early," Devon says.Jonah seems to agree. The night is a bust. When Iverem gets back home that evening, she takes another pregnancy test. The results are positive.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The Hunt Club, located in bum-fuck nowhere, is the last place August wants to be at eight in the morning. But August's daddy expects him to be at his beck and call. So here he is, wearing too-tight golf pants and cursing at the $2,000 putter he bought that was supposed to make him a golfer extraordinaire."The green is always the hardest part of the game," his father says."No kidding," August says. August feels a little un-comfy about his father's decision to take him to an old-money ass country club to discuss his company's financial books. Instead of just calling him into his office or even over the phone, he decided to make a mundane meeting an event"I've always wanted to take you golfing," he says.August eyes the golf ball before he takes another swing. This time, the ball lands in the hole. "Then why didn't you?""Your mother wouldn't allow it."August can't tell if his father is messing with him. It's not in his character to go against his mother so openly. His father's audacity makes his body feel even tighter in his clothes. His father abandoned his mother, leading them to play house with a predator for over a decade to survive. "What are you trying to get at?"His father takes off his orange-tinted aviators. "I think it's time we talk honestly about our relationship."Shit, did he bring me out here because he's had a come-to-Jesus-moment, August thinks.Instead of trying to figure out what the hell is going on with his father, August begins to walk toward their golf cart. Whatever his father is dealing with, he can deal with it himself. August already has a boatload of issues and guilt he will live with for the rest of his life; he doesn't care to help his estranged father figure out his own.As they settle into the golf cart, his father's hands grab the steering wheel, immobilizing them. "You wanted to talk about the books, so let's just talk about the books," August says.He can't hold his father's gaze. The odd oval shapes of the coarse emerald grass and the fine lime green grass, irregular shapes that go as far as his eyes can see, truly fascinates him – for just a minute. They must spend thousands on this grass. His father's hands are still over his own. His hands are pale and soft. August's hands are tan and rough. It shouldn't be this way. It's not supposed to be like this. And August doesn't know if he can ever forgive his father for just leaving and never thinking twice about it."She wouldn't let me see you, August," he says."I doubt that," August spits back."Have you ever asked her why I left?"What a ridiculous question. "No, of course not.""Then ask her. And when you're ready to talk about us, I'll be here," he says. "But right now, I just want to be with you."More talks definitely aren't what August needs right now. As if he doesn't already have nightly talks with Devon about surrogates and the possibility of adopting. As if his mind isn't cursing him every day for what he did to Iverem.Rather than screaming until his voice box explodes, he gives his father a slight nod.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Michael liked to pray over them. At the end of their youth church group sessions, he made them stand in a circle while he walked around the group and read Bible verses from Psalms and Proverbs, his favourite being Ephesians 2:8–10. Sometimes, Michael grabbed a shoulder or two when his speeches got really passionate. Iverem always hoped he would hold onto her shoulder when he was in the throes of prayer. And when he did touch her arm, she got chills, his cologne often causing her heart to beat like crazy.Michael was a good man. He was a good man because he was kind and respectful to his elders. He volunteered at soup kitchens, had the right – "respectable"– style for a man his age, and studied accounting at college, unlike his inner-city classmates stuck in the school-to-prison pipeline. Phenotypically, Michael was a good man.At the time, Iverem thought so, too.More often nowadays, Michael asked Iverem to stay behind and help him clean up.  She didn't mind this so much since it allowed her to stay out of the house just a bit longer. Her mother was being a real pain lately. It happened in waves with her. She adored Iverem one day, and the next, acted inconvenienced by her mere existence. Iverem couldn't navigate her mother's quickly shifting moods. And as a thirteen-year-old also going through her own mood swings, all the drama with her mother made her home environment unbearable. Anyway, it wasn't like her mother noticed whenever she returned home way later than after her youth church group ended.This evening was their annual potluck, one of Iverem's favourite church events. Since she was Michael's little helper, Iverem had to collect plastic cups and paper plates and put them into trash bags at the end of the function. Once she finished taking the trash out, she returned inside to let Michael know she was heading home."You're wearing the pin," Michael said these words like he was in awe of her.Michael's father was a jeweller. Last weekend, after their youth church group session, Michael gifted her a fancy butterfly hairpin with these blue jewels that he said brought out the hazel hue in her irises.She could practically see the amazement blooming in his brown eyes when he saw the pin in her hair. How could someone like Michael ever be enamoured by a girl like her? She was nobody. But now he was touching her braids and caressing the hairpin he bought her. And then, all of a sudden, as if clarity fell on her like a mist, she could see in his eyes that she was more than just another girl to him."It looks good on you," he says. "Come."Michael walks away as if he expects her to follow him. He's right in this assumption because Iverem does what he says. He stops at the potluck table. She stands before him, but he isn't looking at her. His gaze is on the wood and marble serveware, pensive."I really like you, Iverem," he says. "Do you like me?"Iverem couldn't hide her bashful smile when she said: "I like you, too."Michael smiled like he was happy with her answer. Iverem was glad that she made him happy. She was glad that she said the right thing."I want to make you feel good, Iverem," he says. "Do you want me to make you feel good?"Iverem had no clue what he meant but nodded as if she did. Michael hoisted Iverem onto the potluck table and then lifted her skirt. Iverem grabbed the table to get a better balance. The marble serving platters tilted towards the ground, slamming onto the floor but not breaking. No, the platters remained intact as they rotated in a circular motion, creating a jarring ringing noise.She didn't have time to understand why this unnerved her so much because Michael started pulling down her underwear. The man poked, poked, and poked his fingers into her crotch, the sharp edges of his fingernails scrapping against her vulva."You like that?" he says.She could only nod.The marble platter at her feet finally stopped spinning and screeching. It was upside down, and the big Ikea logo stood out in yellow and blue against the platter's grey and black stone carving.Jonah's dad and mother have the same serve ware. Iverem has never seen them use this serveware at one of their business dinners. It could be new. When Jonah's mother hands her a platter of shrimp, she looks underneath the plate and sees an Ikea logo.Hmm, they have the same tableware, she thinks.August notices her bizarre behaviour and raises his eyebrows at her. He's been staring at her all night, skimming his eyes along her cleavage when he's supposed to be selling the shit out of this advertising contract. And like some stupid props or even like the serve ware on the table, Iverem, Devon, and Jonah's mother are supposed to keep things lighthearted and pleasant – as if a lot of money isn't at stake for this car branding contract. They don't need to be here. Iverem doubts that any of the women want to be at this business meeting. But they are welcoming and lovely to look at, unlike the brooding Westminster men.She feels sick.Jonah's dad and the eclectic businessman he's attempting to entertain are laughing (about some dad joke, a joke the general public would never understand.) Devon, Jonah's mother, and even Jonah join in the merriment.The joke wasn't that damn funny, Iverem thinks.The dining room is big, and the décor is bombastic. It's real Southern with a Georgian flair, since Jonah's mother is quite fond of her native state. This makes it easy for Iverem to zone out of whatever's happening around her.Mid-laugh, the yellow-haired businessman spills wine all over his white dress shirt. Jonah's father makes a smart remark that warrants another round of laughs. The businessman's face turns deep red with joy."Should we move to the drawing room? "Jonah's dad says.Everyone agrees.Jonah pulls her back from the rest of the group as they leave the dining room. "Are you all right?" Jonah says."Yeah," she says. "I'll be right back."In the bathroom, Iverem bends over the sink to ease the roiling in her stomach. Instead, the shrimp salad she ate for dinner climbs up her esophagus and out her mouth. Her vomit paints the porcelain a frothy pink and green mess. The colours merge until they become a brown blur. A pale woman with straight golden bronze hair and eyes too large for her face stares back at her in the mirror.What am I doing here? she thinks.A bang on the door brings Iverem out of her self-induced stupor."Jonah?"He doesn't answer."Come in then."He closes the door behind him. He remains silent as they both watch her dinner swirl down the drain. "You feeling better?"
Well, that's not Jonah.
She turns around and finds August a little too close for comfort. "What are you doing in here?"He still can't look her in the eye. Shit, when's that going to stop hurting."I was just checking up on you," August sighs before handing Iverem her journal. "I also wanted to give this back to you."Iverem basically snatches the book out of his hands. "How long have you had this?"A deep red blush blossoms on August's face, staining the tips of his ears and cheeks. August is speechless again.Iverem feels like throwing up again."Ugh, you're such a fucking weirdo.""You're right. And I wanted to apologize to you about that and... everything."There he goes with the shifty movements again. Iverem finds some solace in the fact that at least August is finally being honest with her. But –"Why now?""I just don't want there to be any animosity between us.""I thought we already settled that," she bit out.August appears a bit taken aback by her response. His usual fiery disposition is muted, which somewhat dims the vibrancy of his whole being. She wants them to go back to bickering and being at each other's throats. She wants whatever dreary energy has been hanging over their relationship to go away. She wants to feel wanted, desired and actually liked by someone again."I don't want things to be weird between us," she says. Iverem pauses to consider what she'll say next. "Y'know, we're a lot alike."She's piqued his interest. She can tell by how his green eyes glimmer with curiosity, making the harsh lines on his face soften. Lately, Iverem's been getting good at telling his moods. "And how are we the same?" he says."We don't fit in, in all of... this," she says, pointing out the exorbitant wealth."That easy to tell?" he says.She gives him a slight nod. "We need to stick together. We should be each other's safe space."August's frowning again, and Iverem doesn't know where she lost him in this conversation. "You're right; we should have each other's backs.""And I think it's due time I show you the actual heart of Texas," she says.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It started raining mid-hike.It began to pour as they made their way through rocky forest terrain. The thunder and subsequent lightning that struck a nearby tree spooked August's Rottweiler Ladybird into running away from them. Now, Iverem and August are also running through the woods, chasing after the dog, despite the rain and mudslides that keep causing them to trip on their feet."I don't think she went this way," Iverem yells through the whooshing wind."What did you say?" August yells."I said –" thunder roars over her.Iverem slips. When she tumbles, she takes August down with her."Shit, Iverem," he says."I'm sorry," she says.The wind begins to pick up speed. The frailer trees swing left. August and Iverem feel like they're about to go flying, so they settle underneath a Live Oak, huddling together as the storm rages."Did you check the weather before we came out today?" he says."No," she says. "But it's summer. It never rains like this in the summer.""You should've checked the weather.""Don't talk to me like that.""What?" He looks ready to explode. "What did I say now?""You're yelling at me. Don't yell at me."It was such a beautiful day—emphasis on the past tense. Iverem woke up bright and early and, for the first time in a while, without suffering from morning sickness. But with this little blessing came the glaring issue that she was now showing. She still hadn't told Jonah about the pregnancy, and she was losing time trying to figure out how to talk to him about the baby and their future and oh my god! Their parents how would their parents react when they found out about the baby?Still, she pushed aside this anxiety and concentrated on more current matters. Iverem spent the night before thinking about August. What hiking trail should she take him on? What should she say to him? How should she dress? What would happen when they were alone?The only thing Iverem felt she could control in this situation was her appearance. This was the only thing she could get a positive response from men and women. So, she went heavy-handed with the makeup. But this mask she wore did well in hiding the deep insecurity she felt around August.Iverem had done her best to ignore the fact that August's presence made her feel self-conscious as if she couldn't hide the ugliness within. She definitely recognized that feeling intensifying throughout their hiking trip. Ladybird was lovely. She kept the energy light. Yet that didn't diminish this oppressive, unspoken whatever that was happening between them. Damn, August didn't even look at her until it was raining and almost all of her makeup had melted off.Now, they're fighting again."I'm not yelling at you," he says. "It's so loud I can barely hear my own thoughts.""No, "she says, pushing him. "You're being condescending. It isn't my fault it started to rain."August falls back onto the ground, exacerbated.The wind is now howling. The taste of earth sticks to the roof of their mouths. And it's wet and humid, but all Iverem feels is a cold numbness throughout her body.Iverem takes a deep breath. "I'm trying my best."He withdraws his gaze, remaining silent for a long time."Why won't you look at me?" she says.He still says nothing."Fine, whatever," Iverem says, pushing him again.He grabs hold of her wrists. "Enough of this," he says.The fire in his eyes changes his irises to become a luxurious emerald. Goosebumps run all over Iverem's skin. She can practically feel his anger radiating off him. This is not the emotion Iverem is looking to illicit from August, but at this point, she'd rather feel his wrath than indifference.Within his anger, her lust burgeons. This close to him, his musk of cardamom and orange peels is intoxicating, the rough texture of his hands over hers is exhilarating, and the warmth emitting from his body is inviting.Her eyes fall to his plush, rosy lips, and Iverem can't help but lean in for a kiss. He doesn't kiss her back, so she bites August's lower lip until it bleeds. His blood is sweet on her tongue, and for a moment, she's weightless. Maybe Iverem's always known, and perhaps she's ignored this nagging feeling about August, but she realizes now that he – will – has brought her to liberation.August doesn't let her savour this revelation for long. He grips her jaw, pushing Iverem away from him. She lets August wrangle her into his arms; she even starts to like how they feel around her, how his breath tickles her ear and warms her skin.Flush against her back, he bites her neck before sucking on the wound. Her toes curl. A moan snags in her throat. There is pleasure in this pain. "I'm always focused on you.""Liar."August keeps idle by sifting through her hair. He swipes her wet curls off her face, his fingers tangling in her tresses. With ease, he makes his way to her scalp. He tugs her head back. Her gaze snaps to the sky. Past the crooked branches and water-weighed-down leaves are grey and black storm clouds. If Iverem tries hard enough, she can pretend this day is a dream."Then what are we even doing here?" he says. "Why are we even doing this?"Rain pelts her foreheads and cheeks, dropping down her chin into her cleavage. The erotic sensation causes her to grab August's thigh. "I don't know anymore – just fuck me."He chuckles. "Iverem, you don't get to tell me what to do."Her ire for August begins to rear its head again. But before she can say a smart retort, Iverem is on her hands and knees, ass in the air. His palms grope her bum, massaging her buttocks and then slapping them. 
Slap.
She gasps.
Slap.
She shivers.
Slap.
She sinks her fingers into the wet soil to stop herself from moaning."August, please," she says."This time... I'll let you have this," he says.
Slap.
"You're mine," he says.Iverem shakes her head."You want to know when I knew you were mine?" he says, pulling down her shorts and underwear. "The day I met you, and I've been denying it ever since."He cups her sex, and a slickness runs down her leg. "Don't say things like that," she says.Iverem reaches behind to grab his pants, tugging them down in a feeble attempt. "Why?"She lets herself moan this time when the head of his cock breaches her. "Because it'll make it harder for me to pretend like everything's ok when this is over."He grunts, leaning down to kiss the edge of her ear, neck, and cheek – August stops at her lips. "Don't worry about things you can't control. Open yourself to me, Iverem."She barely utters a response before he slams into her. Iverem hiccups as he thrusts into her relentlessly. A ragged moan rips through her throat, and that weightless feeling returns.He claims her lips as ruthlessly as her cunt. She moves in sync with the rhythm of his feverish thrusts. She tries to catch her breath as a deliriousness slowly builds – the bundle of nerves at her core about to burst.At the climax of their animalistic mating, they hold hands and peck at each other's lips. This sort of kinship is not usual for Iverem during sex. With Jonah and with Michael, sex was always treated like a business meeting, utterly professional. She often wondered if they had a loving bone in their body. She wonders why she thought being treated this way was acceptable.Amid their tryst, the rain ceases, the clouds clear, and the sweltering sun reemerges. The returned exuberance of the day amplifies the pleasantness of their post-coital fatigue.Iverem and August give up on their search for Ladybird and head back to his Ford F-150. They don't speak the entire hike back to the parking lot, but Iverem doesn't mind the silence much this time. Remember, she's weightless.They find the rottweiler taking a nap in August's cargo bed.Iverem can't help but laugh.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

August stayed parked in the back of Iverem’s apartment long after she went inside – longer than he expected to stay. Nothing felt real to him at this moment. Not the drive to Iverem’s apartment or even his grip on the steering wheel. August knew he should’ve rejected Iverem’s advances, yet that selfish part of him won again. Lately, that ugly part of him seemed to rule him much more than his sensible side. But then again, maybe he’s never been a good person and just pretended to be one all his life. Perhaps he’s just like Jonah and his father, maybe even worse than Edgar.Thankfully, a phone call brings him out of his self-loathing mental diatribe. “Hello?” he says.“Hello, Augustine?” says the man on the other end.“Yes.”“It’s Sam. We were in contact a month ago about an automated clearing house transfer account.”Sam is a private investigator August hired some weeks ago to investigate the account siphoning money from his father’s advertising company. Sam is an expert in his field, and August had spare funds to spend on this current assignment, so he decided to outsource some of the work. Plus, information about the location or the account's owner was private, which Augustine couldn’t legally access. It would’ve taken him months to figure out the account owner.“It took some time and a lot of elbow-rubbing, but I found a name linked to the account,” Sam says. “The account is under a name called Omar Velasco. Do you know anyone who goes by this name?“Yeah,” he says, running his hands through his hair. “I do.”“I also managed to get the account address from my source.”August turns on his car. “That’d be helpful. I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”After he ends the call, he starts heading to the location.Of course, shithead Omar is stealing money from the company. August wonders who else Omar might be working with; could it be his brother? No, Jonah is a pretentious and unabashed social climber, but he isn’t a thief. He can’t be, he resolves.He’s no better, though. What happened this afternoon between him and Iverem is a testament to his integrity, which August now realizes he has none. It’s hard for him to compartmentalize his moments with Devon, Iverem and Jonah. He’s lying to everyone, and somehow, the lies keep adding up. Even secrets compounded interest after a while. August can’t help but already feel forgiving towards Omar’s actions. Knowing he’s just as guilty for committing heinous acts makes the effort of forgiveness relatively easy– can’t throw stones from a glass house kind of thing going on here.   The address Sam gave August led him to a gated community. A guard speaks to him through the intercom when he reaches the compound's entrance.“Guest?” the woman says in a monotone voice, lacking a southern accent.“Yes.”“Who?”“Omar Velasco.”“Family or friend?”August rolls his eyes. God, is this a fucking interrogation? Next, she’s going to be asking for my blood type.  “Friend,” he says.The woman behind the intercom doesn’t say anything else. The Victorian design-inspired gate swings open, and August continues into the estate. He passes by rows of clone beige and brown modern houses until he reaches the one that belongs to Omar.August knocks on the door, and when Omar opens it, he’s shocked to see him on the other side. “Surprise, surprise,” he says.“What are you doing here?” Omar says, paling a little.“I think you already know,” he says. “Now, are you going to let me in?”Omar looks behind him. A soft yellow light flickers from what August assumes is Omar’s living room. From the doorway, August can make out the smell of pasta, or maybe it’s pizza. Italian food smells the same to him. He can now also hear a quiet song end and another begin.“Am I interrupting something?” he says.“Kind of.”“Then let’s go for a walk.”Like a child about to be disciplined, Omar ducks his head and puts on his shoes before joining him outside. August doubts anyone on this compound even uses the sidewalks, and the lack of muck and scuffs on the streets definitely causes him to conclude his hypothesis is a theory. The setting sun casts their shadows long, its heat burning their necks. The pain brings up the sweet memory of the sun’s rays beating down on him and Iverem during their hiking trip. He regrets not holding her hand when they returned to his car. August decides then he will hold her hand the next time he sees her.“How much do you want?” Omar says.“What?” August says, remembering he’s doing work things right now, so he should really be only thinking about work, he composes himself. “What do you mean?”“If you didn’t want a cut of the money, you would’ve told your father by now.”“I want to know if my brother is involved in any of this.”Omar looks at him, shocked again. The sun is almost gone now, and the shadows playing on his face make his nose long. “It was his idea.”“So Jonah made you open that bank account and put it under your name, address, social insurance number?” he says. “He forced you to commit fraud?”Omar’s nostrils flare, his eyebrows ticking up with them. “He didn’t force me to do anything, but your brother can be damn convincing.”That does sound like a characteristic congruent with Jonah’s character. But August still can’t believe that Jonah would steal money from their father. Jonah modelled his whole life after him. Jonah practically worshipped the man.“Why?” Jonah had to know doing such a thing would cause him to lose his position in the company and ruin his relationship with their father.Omar shrugs. “I did it for the money.”“I gathered that much.”~Back when his parents were still married, when his father still went on his monthly business trips, and his mother consequently started inviting her friends over again because she was lonely, August often stayed locked in his bedroom in the evening.When his mother forgot to lock his bedroom door, August sneaked into the hallway and watched her over the balcony. Sometimes, she invited Edgar over. Sometimes, it was a different man and other times, it was a man accompanied by another woman.His mother sat them in the living room, in the suede loveseat across from his father’s favourite electric blue leather armchair. She put on reggaeton. His father hated reggaeton, and she turned it on whenever he was gone. August’s mother then made a show of bringing out the expensive wine and liquor. Her guests picked the most expensive bottle because they thought decades-old alcohol tasted the best. The conversation was always lively, but boisterous banter became hushed conference after the third round of drinks. He couldn’t make out the whispers, but he knew whatever was being said was important; it was the key to figuring out why his mother had so many friends and why his father never knew about them.August doesn’t recall anything after. All he remembered was waking up in his bed the next morning. He now wonders if those friends were really just “friends.” At night, while he’s in bed, August lets these thoughts ruminate. The accusation his father made about his mother runs amuck in his mind. It gets him so restless that he starts pacing in his living room.Jonah’s a liar. His father’s a liar. He’s a liar. Shit, his mother is probably a liar too. Maybe he inherited his fucked-up-ness.He reaches for his phone, thinking about calling his father, mother, and maybe even Iverem. No, not Iverem. He settles on his mother. Her call goes straight to voicemail.“Honey, are you ok?” Devon says from the stairs.He nods. August is fine. He will be fine as long as he keeps telling himself this.He calls his mother again.She picks up this time. “Hello?”August’s voice gets stuck in his throat. He hangs up the call.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"You forgot to turn off the kitchen faucet, again, " Iverem says.Last night, her mother left the kitchen faucet open. She did it again this morning. Iverem knows it isn't her mother's fault that she left the kitchen faucet running. She knows her mother can't help herself. Forgetting is the modus operandi of dementia. But Iverem is in a not-so-forgiving mood this morning. She woke up from a terrible nightmare—the kind where all her teeth fell out of her mouth, so someone had to suffer because of this horrible start to her day.After Iverem closes the faucet, she calls her mother into the kitchen."Sorry," her mother says. "I didn't mean to."When the kettle finishes boiling, before Iverem moves to the living room, she utters: "Quit raising my fucking water and light bill.""What did you say to me?" her mother yells, following her into the living room."I said, 'I'm tired of you raising my fucking water and light bill."As Iverem sits on the living room couch, her mother stands over her, jabbing a crooked finger at her face. "Don't speak to me like that.""You're in my apartment; I can speak to you whichever way I want!"Iverem's outburst frightened her mother. Although she isn't prone to fits of rage, her personality has become unruly over the last year. Today, she is finally unravelling. "What's going on with you?"What is going on with Iverem? She can't pinpoint it. All she knows is that each day her stomach grows more prominent, so does her hate for her mother. Iverem can't imagine putting her daughter through some of the things her mother did to her. Now, whenever Iverem was around her mother, all she could think was: How could she do that to me?"Why did you never ask me why I always came home late after church?""What are you talking about?""Don't pretend you didn't know what Michael was doing to me."Her mother rolls her eyes. The gesture makes Iverem feel like a child. "You mean that issue you had between you and your little boyfriend.""Fuck you."Iverem throws her coffee mug at her mother. The mug flies into the air, missing her mother significantly. Instead, the coffee claims its aim on both of them before swirling around the room. Thankfully, the coffee is already cold, so no one suffers too much from Iverem's anger.Coffee is everywhere: underneath the couch, in the planter pot, all over the coffee table and soaked into her clothes. Iverem didn't intend for things to get this bad. But that's how things usually end up with her family.She isn't getting through to her mother. She would never understand, or maybe she doesn't care. All that talk about family, about supporting each other; it didn't matter when it was about her needing the support. It never mattered when it was about her.Iverem comes to a resolution. She wants her mother gone."I have to go," she says, riffling through her handbag for her car keys. "I don't think we should live together anymore."Iverem collects her things. She thinks about heading to work early but decides to call in sick. She drives around the city until the traffic gives her a headache. Not ready for whatever unresolved childhood trauma she has to deal with when she gets home, Iverem goes to Jonah's house.She hasn't confided in Jonah since they went to Colorado for Christmas. Iverem isn't even sure if she is allowed to commiserate around Jonah anymore. Even though Jonah hasn't shown any signs of resentment, she's been walking on eggshells around him since they got back together. Iverem knows it is only a matter of time before he finds someone else, someone better suited for him. But she has no one to talk to about this ever-present gnawing in her chest. This hate, this anger, it's going to kill her if she doesn't let it out – cut it open and let it hemorrhage like a puss-filled wound.I could go to August, Iverem thinks. The thought is so fleeting that Iverem can't help but snort at the idea.As usual, Jonah answers the door in a dress shirt and pants, his phone glued to his ear."Hey honey, " he says, kissing her on the cheek.Jonah leaves the front door open for Iverem as he returns to his study, talking loudly with someone Iverem presumes is Omar. She expects their call to take some time, so she makes herself some lunch. Iverem has been craving a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for weeks, so she thought she might as well indulge in the desire before she loses the excuse to give in to her cravings."You're off from work early, "Jonah says, joining her on the couch.She is watching some shitty reality tv show that is spectacularly mind-numbing. "I took a mental health day.""Why? What's wrong?" he said, taking half of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "I also thought we agreed to work on our eating habits."Iverem sighs. "I know. I've just had a tough day.""You know, you can always talk to me," he says. Jonah's other hand is on Iverem's knee. His green eyes are soft—they are always soft on her."My mother is being difficult as usual," she says. She wants to end the conversation there, but can't keep herself from blurting out: "I was raped when I was thirteen."Iverem watches Jonah's reaction. He's perfectly stoic, and she doesn't know what to make of his silence."I fought with my mom about it, and she doesn't... She doesn't want to acknowledge what happened to me.""I'm so sorry, Iverem," he says.Jonah takes Iverem into his arms. His body is warm and solid, while her own feels weak and diminished. The tears come, but she's able to hide her sobs in his chest. She doesn't feel his judgement. It isn't hard to decipher disgust or mortification on someone's face once you've told them your deepest, darkest secret, but Jonah's gaze is attentive. The way he is looking at her takes her breath away. Iverem can see glimpses of August in the surety of his demeanour and how he collects himself amidst a crisis. He's her saviour once again, just like at college when she took too many sleeping pills and he had to drive her to the hospital."I've also been keeping something for you," she says. "I'm pregnant."His composure slips a bit. "How long?""I've been pregnant for three months now."The gravity of the situation finally settles in Jonah's bones. "But... we were so careful."Iverem shakes her head, untangling herself from Jonah's arms. "I know this isn't the best time for you to have a baby, and neither is it for me, but I will keep it. You don't need to worry – ""Iverem, I'm happy we're having a baby. I'm just shocked," he says.Calculations are going on in Jonah's head, yet Iverem chooses to believe him. There is no other option.She decides to go home.The mess at her apartment is the same as when she left it. Her mother hasn't touched anything, which Iverem infers means she isn't home. The coffee has turned sticky, but she is glad the clean-up will be more challenging. She needs something to do that will get her out of her mind.A notification goes off on her phone. She guesses it's someone from work, Jonah, or maybe her mother. She's finally figured out how to send a text message. When Iverem checks her phone, she realizes it's a message from August.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

August texts Iverem while at an adoption agency waiting room, as his wife is in the restroom next door. The text message is casual, in the same regard as a "What's up" or a "How are you doing." However, the implication of this text is resounding. A part of August feels like he's waving a white flag. He doesn't know why. August convinces himself that this sudden urge to contact Iverem is because of the upbeat pop music playing on the speakers or the groups of happy couples entering and exiting the clinic. Who the fuck knows, maybe he's just bored.Three dots appear on his phone. Before a response is sent, Devon emerges from the restroom. He puts his phone away and meets her warm gaze."Who was that?" she says."It was just Jonah."She does some light stretches to relieve the tension in her muscles. "He's still annoying you about the books?"August nods, indicating he is not interested in continuing this conversation. He can finally breathe easy when their social worker calls them into his office. The social worker's room resembles the waiting, clinically white and modern, abject of any homeliness. Sadly, there was no window in this room that August's mind could escape through."I looked over your files, and based on your income, temperament and background, you two would make great parents," the social worker says, opening their file and pulling out their papers.Devon beams, looking back and forth between August and the social worker. "That's good news. So what are the next steps?""There are two means of adopting you can choose to go through. We can do private adoption or public adoption."Devon gives up all pretenses of remaining politically correct. "We want our baby, and we're ready now."The social worker doesn't seem surprised by Devon's bluntness. He begins typing on his desktop. "Then your best route would be private adoption. The cost of adopting a baby through these means can range from $15,000 to $30,000."This announcement garners August's attention. "And why is it so expensive?"The social worker pauses his fast fingers on the keyboard and looks at August as if he just asked him if the sky was blue. "It depends on the fees incurred in the child's country, coverage for lawyer's services, the orphanage's costs incurred in caring for your child before placement, and fees to finalize the adoption.""What about doing a public adoption? How much would that cost us?" August continues to ask questions despite the hole Devon attempts to sear into the side of his head.Devon and the social worker share an exasperated glance. "Public adoptions are usually free and mostly done locally. However, very rarely do parents put newborns up for adoption. A lot of the children in the system are a bit older.""That sounds great, but I think we'll be sticking to private adoption," Devon says, trying to veer this conversation back in her favour. August wants her to be happy, but at what cost? How would Devon feel about their adopted child when they were crying all night, and she couldn't sleep for weeks on end? How would she feel if their kid grew up to be a disappointment or even hated them? Raising a child right wasn't easy, but fucking them up was inevitable."You're in luck then," the social worker says. The social worker flips their computer screen around, showing them a woman who looks a little too similar to August's mother. "We have a mother down in Mexico. She's expecting in six months.""We need some time to think this over," August says.Devon doesn't say anything. She's saying more than enough with the glare she's aiming at him. She maintains this quiet anger throughout their whole trip back home. Once August pulls into their garage, she storms out of the car.Though August is excellent at remaining composed in situations of distress, he has never been good at handling conflict – especially when it comes to Devon being mad. He loiters around in the kitchen, pondering the best approach to calm Devon down. His rottweiler Ladybird paws him for some affection, yet August can't muster up the energy to entertain her.A notification on his phone reminds him of Iverem. He reads her message. "I can't talk right now," it says. Great, that's just what I needed to hear.In their bedroom, Devon is face down on their bed. Her feet hang off the edge of the mattress. Her blonde hair covers her face like a curtain, making it difficult for August to gauge her mood. She doesn't move when August enters the room and sits down next to her, even when he tries to soothe her by rubbing up and down her thigh."We need to think about this a bit more," he says.Devon jerks her leg from August's grasp. "What is there to think about?""We need to think about how much money we will be spending. That's not even the half of it. Are we ready to be parents?"Devon wipes her tears. Her eyes are glassy, but they still shine a brilliant blue. "I'm ready. I've been ready my whole life.""I know," August says, but he's unsure. The whole trip to the adoption clinic was a blur. The building's walls were too white, and the floors were too clean and polished. Everyone in the place was cold and built too much like mannequins instead of humans. What does a place like that know about children? It didn't dawn on him how wrong the idea of paying for a child felt until he was in that room."I don't think I'm ready."Devon springs to her feet, ready to unleash her fury. "I don't care what you want. I want a baby. You took me away from Maryland, my job, family and friends to this awful fucking state. And I have to be okay with that. But when I want something, you're 'not ready.' I don't care if you're not ready or even if you have to take out a fucking loan to pay for the fees; I want my fucking baby."August rubs his eyes. This oncoming headache cannot be prevented. "Devon, I just need some time.""How much time?"He'll never be ready. "I don't fucking know," he says.Devon storms out of the room. August follows. "Can we please keep talking about this?"She's at the front door now, car keys in her left hand, jacket in the other. "You can be so cruel sometimes.""Devon, I'm sorry." August never apologizes. This is as close to a grovel as Devon's going to get."Aren't you tired of staying the same," she cries. "Don't you want to change? You're turning thirty-seven next week, and this is all your life has amounted to."The lump in his throat returns, and he can no longer speak.He evades her gaze. I'm good, he tells himself. I'm content with the way things are.But as Devon pulls out of the driveway, August becomes more aware of their home's emptiness, the silence maddening.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

To the Westminster family, August's mother was a ghost—better yet, a forewarning tale. August's father, Bo, and his mother, Camilla, eloped two months into their sordid romance. The couple had convinced themselves that they were star-crossed lovers kept apart by Bo's authoritative parents. Although this was partly true, Camilla was not who she claimed to be.When she first met Bo, Camilla had told him she was born in Texas and raised by her aunt and uncle. But this was a lie. Camilla had immigrated from Mexico to the United States at eighteen as a permanent resident. Though her aunt and uncle lived in Texas, she'd become estranged from her family due to her wayward behaviour. She partied too much, stole from her parents, friends with deviants and for the life of her couldn't keep a job. This pattern continued in America, and with no familial support, Camilla was living off credit cards and fake cheques. She loved Bo, but his privileged lifestyle allowed her to pay off her debt and become a United States citizen.Three months into the marriage, Camilla revealed to Bo she was fifty thousand dollars in credit card debt. The debt strained their relationship, but not enough to stop them from conceiving August later that year. What was the final nail in the coffin of their marriage was her notorious affairs with men and women. As one of the only openly sexually active women in the late seventies and early eighties, she was known as a bit of a nymphomaniac. Most people nowadays will classify Camilla as a sex addict. Her rendezvous' in Dallas, Austin, and Houston were well known. Camilla's infidelities left a lasting mark on the Westminster family name and greatly impacted August's childhood.The more time August spends with his father, the more he feels like he's uncovering lost pieces of his past. August knows his mother is not entirely absolved from the deterioration of their family. Still, he believes his mother was justified regarding what happened in their marriage. His constant demonization of his mother didn't only have to do with her debt and wayward behaviour but also her background and race.As August watches his mother and father awkwardly avoid one another at his birthday dinner, he realizes they don't necessarily hate each other. Yet, their often connecting gazes hold a deep sense of regret. This revelation makes August wonder about some of his mistakes in the past months.In honour of his 37th birthday, Devon planned a weekend getaway for August and select family members. Usually, his birthdays consisted of staycations with Devon's family and his mother. Due to the move from Maryland to Texas, this year, he's spending it with his father, stepmother, Jonah and Iverem. Despite their ongoing disputes about adoption, Devon still took the time to plan his birthday. Devon is always so thoughtful, kind and generous. So, why wasn't he in love with her? And most importantly, why didn't he desire her the same way he desired Iverem?It's their first evening at the luxury camp. They're eating dinner on a ground-level patio. The dining room is enclosed by glass walls, overlooking the Austin desert's setting sun and wildlife. The hike and subsequent turkey hunting expedition the following day will surely be a test of patience for everyone, but so far, everyone has remained pleasant.August glances at Iverem, who's deciding whether to eat the Texas Twinkies on her plate. A smile tugs at his lips but quickly disappears when Devon places her hand on his shoulder."Thank you guys for attending August's 37th birthday," she says, directing most of the speech to Camilla. "Before we move to the bonfire later this evening, honey, I wanted to give you an early birthday present."The chef and several servers enter the dining room with a birthday cake, singing 'Happy Birthday.' Devon begins to clap, encouraging the rest of August's family to join. The birthday candles on his cake are bright, almost blinding. When he blows them out, he wishes for a different life—a life where August doesn't terrorize the women he loves—a life where he knows how to love people the right way.His mother pulls him in for a hug as the group walks towards the bonfire. "Happy birthday, mijo," she says, kissing him on the cheek.She entwines her arm with August's own. "Have you spoken to him yet?" he asks.Camilla shakes her head."Why?" There's an edge in his voice that never existed before. August can tell his mother notices because her posture stiffens."Honey, you know why," she says."I don't understand why you can't talk to each other?""There is nothing I have to say." She moves away from him, slowly increasing her gait to catch up with everyone else."Stop being difficult," August says. He's practically chasing after her. "Why can't you just do it for me?"She won't look at him. He takes this as a sign that the conversation is over.The moon and stars have overtaken the sky. The bonfire rages, reaching the peak of the barren red canyon in front of them. His family sits on benches around the fire with beers and coolers, but August is itching for another kind of vice. Like a true addict, August pats his pockets. Shit, I should have something on me, he thinks. He feels the outline of a cigarette just before he gives up searching. Thank god."August," Devon chides him, reaching for the cigarette."I know," he says. "Let me have this tonight."She shakes her head but doesn't say anything else.August starts walking towards the red canyon. He lights his cigarette as he admires the cliff. To his left, he hears the quiet cry of an animal. August follows the sound, climbing up the rocky terrain. His boots do well on grappling the crumbling ground. Soon, August finds himself on top of a ledge.The noise is loudest by a bush. Behind it is a white-furred coyote with brown spots and electric blue eyes. The pup gazes at August with its ears pinned back, baring its teeth the closer he approaches. When he puts his hand out to pet the coyote, it bites him and then scuttles into a farther bush. The bite stings for a minute.Fucking asshole, he thinks."Enjoying your late-night hike?" Iverem says. She's taking in the view. Her demeanour is relaxed, unbothered. August prefers her when she's a wreck. He doesn't want to overthink why at the moment."Not as much as I thought I would," August says, checking out the puncture wound on his hand.Iverem moves towards August. She grabs his hand. Suddenly, the pain disappears, and all August can think about is how her perfume makes his mouth to water. "What happened?" she says."Nothing," he says. Iverem scrutinizes his response. He feels giddy under her gaze. Unlike many of the women he's dated, she's critical of him. He anticipates the bite of her harsh words next, but she relents.He slightly frowns. "Get on with it," he says."What do you mean?""What are you here for?"Iverem drops his hand. A scowl mars her delicate features. "I'm not here for anything. I wanted to give you something."She pulls a pocket-sized diary from her jacket and hands it to him. The book is bound in camel leather – a lock at the center keeps it closed. He runs the pages between his fingers. The paper is firm yet smooth to the touch."Instead of reading other people's journals, start writing your own stories."Iverem looks everywhere but at him. Sometimes, he's too prickly for his own good. "Thank you," he says.She smiles at him. August knows it's a genuine smile because he can see the wrinkles forming around her mouth and eyes. He realizes she loves him because the brightness and tenderness in her eyes can only mean one thing. And he loves her too because how could he not love a woman as beautiful, intelligent, tenacious, and headache-inducing as her? At the same time, there's this gut-wrenching guilt, this gut-wrenching knowing that the inevitable will happen.However, he swallows all this down and says, "I want to see you tomorrow night."Iverem cups his cheeks. She presses a soft peck on his lips, and he can still taste the spiciness of the jalapeños she ate for dinner on them.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

August was ready to call it quits an hour into the turkey hunting expedition. It was unnaturally cold for a November morning in Austin, and not only was he hungover, but his brother was one-upping him yet again. Jonah had already gotten one kill, while August struggled with his aim. August knew his inability to hunt had nothing to do with his masculinity. Still, the outdated notion made him feel less of a man.The hunter leading this expedition is a real backwoods type dressed in all cameo. August, Devon, Jonah, and August's father follow behind the hunter as he tracks the turkey routes. They enter the grassland, and the hunter begins blowing a whistle. The group hides underneath a desert willow as best as they can. Turkeys emerge about a half hour later. Some of them cluck. Others gobble, fluttering black and white plumage, their tan-coloured feather tips sparkling in the light."They're so beautiful," Devon says."We call them the Rio Grande," the hunter says. "They're the most beautiful turkeys you'll ever see."He then cocks his gun. Jonah and August's father follow the man's lead and do the same. Devon lowers her gun as everyone begins to shoot. Two gobblers meet their demise—the rest scatter."Three kills on your first hunting trip," the hunter says. "Good job everyone.""What do we do now," August's father says.The hunter hauls the two new turkeys over his shoulders. "We eat," he says.~Back at the camp, August and Jonah wait for everyone to join them for lunch. They sit in the lounge across from each other, both gazing at the other with obvious resentment."You're a natural with a gun," August says. He's usually not the first to start a conversation. Before he tells his father, August wants to understand why his brother would steal from their company."Thanks," Jonah says.Lately, Jonah hasn't been as enthusiastic toward August. I guess he's tired of putting on the façade, August thinks."What's on your mind," he says casually."Get to the point, August," Jonah says. " I'm not in the mood to play this game with you today."August leans back into his chair, savouring the victory. "I assume Omar's already updated you on our conversation."Jonah maintains his composure. "He has."August is intrigued by Jonah's continued defiance. He never considered his little brother to be anything but a sneaky rat. Looks like little bro got some balls on him. "And you have nothing else to say?"This comment sets Jonah on edge. His brother begins tapping his foot and appreciating the scenery. The Austin desert is beautiful, but August doubts it's mesmerizing. "I don't have shit to say to you," Jonah says."You don't understand the gravity of this situation. You're stealing money from our family's company," August says. "I'm going to have to tell Dad about this."Jonah gives August a withering glare. "That wouldn't be very smart of you to do.""What do you mean?"" I know some of your secrets, too."August laughs. What does Jonah think he knows? He doesn't know shit. August holds his brother's gaze, trying to figure out his play. Does  Jonah know...? He can't possibly know? How does he know? "What could you possibly have against me?""I know about what happened with you and Iverem in Colorado," Jonah says, releasing his anger in shallow breaths. "But I wonder if Devon knows."August lets out his own breath, one he hadn't realized he was holding. His hands feel clammy and damp, and the tightness of his clothes is insufferable. He doesn't know."I don't know what you're talking about. Nothing happened between us."Jonah snorts, and a familiar expression eclipses his face. August is used to receiving this condescending gesture from Jonah whenever his brother knows he's won – whether that be their father's affection, the best grades in school, or some trivial board game. This time, the stakes are more significant. August acknowledges that he's a pretty shitty person. He realizes hell awaits him in the afterlife, but his brother has no remorse for what he's done to their family."She told me, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out who she cheated on me with," Jonah says. "You've always had a thing for her."August's cheeks burn. "No, I don't.""It doesn't matter what you tell yourself to sleep better at night. You're never going to be with her.""That's highly presumptuous of you.""You'll never be with her because she's pregnant with my child, and I'm going to marry her."August is speechless. How hadn't he noticed this?"How far along is she?" he says."Four months."At this moment, August realizes something he's not ready to acknowledge. He doesn't want to talk about Iverem's pregnancy or think about the possibility that the time of conception was around July 4th. But as the silence between him and Jonah extends, he surmises that the possibility of Iverem being pregnant with his child is a fact."How do you expect me to explain the missing money to Dad?""Let me worry about that," Jonah says.August stifles a sigh. Jonah is back to the games. He wonders how his brother will figure his way out of his situation; August secretly hopes he doesn't. "You think you're the big man around here," he says."Bigger man than you? Definitely."

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

He's late.Iverem booked a cozy little suite at the camp for the evening—just for them. Iverem convinced herself she was doing this because it was August's birthday. But she knew that once he found out she was pregnant, their relationship would irrevocably change. She wanted a reprieve before the inevitable.She puts on the shopping channel to pass the time. When she finishes watching her fourth advert, August finally makes an appearance. She lets him in begrudgingly, ready to call the night off and enjoy the room for herself."There were some things at work I had to take care of," he says.Iverem knows he's lying, but she's too tired to fight him about this. "Come here," she says instead.August joins her on the loveseat. He looks weathered, like life has been breaking him down piece by piece lately. August lays his head on her lap. Hesitant green eyes look up at her, subtly inquisitive as she runs her fingers through his short curls."Tell me what's going on," she says. August doesn't answer, withdrawing his gaze. Iverem grabs his jaw. "None of that," she says."Answer me this first: why do you want me here?" he says.This question surprises Iverem. Did he think that little of what they had? Maybe she misjudged his feelings for her. "I missed you," she says, adding: "And it's your birthday.""But you never answer my texts," he says, closing his eyes.Iverem stops herself from groaning in annoyance. He has a point. "I'm just going through a lot right now. I'm sorry that it came across like I don't care about you; I really do."August opens his eyes again. Iverem can tell he's trying to determine whether she's telling the truth. She's never lied to him but can understand his apprehension due to their past."I want to show you something," she says.Iverem gets up from the couch and walks towards the bedroom wall. This cabin is located a distance from the other hotel rooms. This sweetheart suite is made of wood, and hidden somewhere in these cedar walls is a door. With concentrated effort, she finds a panel that reveals an opening to a staircase.Curious, August follows behind her up the stairs. They enter an attic with windows encompassing the ceiling like a dome. In the night sky, you can see the Big Dipper and all the other constellations Iverem's father taught her from his astronomy books.She sits on the circular futon in the center of the room. She's surprised at the bed's cushiness, but not too surprised since she spent much of her paycheck to reserve this room. She better be getting her money's worth.Beside the futon are two plates of tiramisu and an iced bottle of champagne. She's quite visibly proud of herself for putting this evening together. And despite the slight hiccup of August being late, she's confident that the rest of the night will go smoothly."Your mother told me this was your favourite desert," she says, handing him the tiramisu."Thank you," he says, cautiously taking the plate from her hands. He's still frigid, distant. He plays around with the ladyfingers before giving up on the desert altogether.Iverem follows suit. "Come here," she says.She pulls him down onto the bed, wrapping her arms around him. She doesn't know why she keeps fighting for August, even when he doesn't care to fight for himself."That's Orion," she says, pointing at the sky."Where?" he says."Use the brightest star to find the second brightest one. Once you connect them – there, going straight down – you have part of the body." She moves her index finger along the outline of Orion. "Then the rest comes easy."She looks back at August, expecting him to follow her directions, but he's just staring at her. In the past, she would've found his intense gaze concerning. Now, Iverem finds August's quirks endearing, so much so that she leans forward and kisses him. His lips are soft, and his aftershave is fresh and minty on her tongue. He rolls her onto her back, skimming his fingers over her nipples and along her thighs. He stops kissing her when his hands land on her stomach."Tell me you love me," he says.His hands grip her waist tightly, causing a pinching pressure down her legs. She squirms slightly, shocked at the sudden change in his behaviour. Does she love August? Based on the newness of whatever they have going on between them, she can't answer that question; therefore, Iverem deduces that she doesn't love him.In bated breath and trembling demeanour, August awaits her answer. He needs this from her, as if he's looking for her to absolve him of something. So, she says: "I love you, August." It's not a convincing declaration, so she kisses him, hoping the gesture is reassuring enough."I knew you did."There's a shift in the energy. August starts peppering kisses on Iverem's earlobes, forehead and cheeks. His hands are everywhere, tugging at her clothes, winding her curls, holding her down.She's breathless, and in this moment, she finds herself immobile. Something about this moment feels familiar, like this isn't the first time he's done this or she's been here.August's teeth make an appearance, biting into her shoulder with full force. She yelps, but he doesn't seem to notice her distress."Wait..." she says. Now she really can't breathe. She wants him off. Why won't he get off? "Stop."August lifts himself off of her. "What?" he says.There's a thickness in both of their voices that wasn't there before. He pins her with his gaze. Mind empty, she's thirteen again, and Michael is having his way with her. And then suddenly, something comes into awareness within August, and now he's getting up and leaving."Where are you going?" she says."I'm sorry," he says, clamouring out the room. "I need to go."She doesn't bother following after him. This is the usual rhythm of their relationship, and Iverem is starting to wonder if the wounds of the past are too deep for them to form any semblance of a functional relationship.~Jonah and Iverem take a midday hike before departing early from August's spectacular birthday excursion. It was Jonah's decision to head back to Dallas, and Iverem figured it was because the brothers were fighting again."I was thinking we should try again," Jonah says.They're walking back to the camp. As the cabins come into view, a sort of dread befalls Iverem. She won't see August before they leave since he left with Devon on a sightseeing expedition this morning. But she has a feeling that she must. There's something strange in the air this morning, and she can't quite pinpoint the energy."Are you listening?" Jonah says."Sorry," she says. "What did you say?"He grabs her shoulder when he says this again.  The same shoulder August bit last night. His grip causes the wound to slightly throb. "We should try getting married again."Iverem shakes her head. "I don't think that's a good idea."Jonah turns Iverem to face him. The freckles spattered on his nose have begun to fade due to the change in seasons, making him look more like his brother. There's also this pleading glint in his eyes. And oh, right then, she remembers he's always been her boy. They've been together for so long. And despite his flaws, Jonah's always wanted the best for her. And Iverem doesn't know if she can live without him."Think about it," he says.He holds her hand as they continue to walk. "How are you feeling?""Tired," she says."How is your mother?" he saysShe doesn't know how to answer. Neither does she want to speak of her mother. "We're still figuring things out."Iverem and her mother were still cohabitating, but they no longer spoke to each other. When one was in the kitchen, the other would be in their bedroom, and both of them seemed to agree that the living room was dangerous territory, so they avoided that space altogether. Her mother didn't have the funds to find affordable long-term care housing, and Iverem couldn't afford to pay rent and her mother's in-patient care. So they were stuck living together until they could find a place for her mother to stay."You know, you can move in with me while she stays at the apartment," Jonah says."Thank you for the offer, but it's not a good idea for her to live alone in my apartment."The deterioration of her mother's mind was accelerating, and their visiting nurse was the only other person keeping an eye on her while Iverem was out of their home. Her mother's train of thought was becoming erratic. From her bedroom, Iverem could often hear her mother laughing one moment and yelling the next. Her mother would start cooking in the kitchen, leave to go to the bathroom, completely forget she was making a meal and then go back to her bedroom to do something else.Even though Iverem now knew that any friendship between her and her mother could never exist, she still cared for her, and seeing her mother so broken was also slowly starting to break her down mentally."We can figure something out. You don't have to do this by yourself," Jonah says.She believes him because he's never lied to her. When he made a promise, he meant it. And when he made a decision, he never changed his mind.When they reach their cabin, August is standing at their door. Jonah doesn't acknowledge him, but August doesn't seem to care."Iverem, can I talk to you?" he says.Iverem observes Jonah's demeanour. He doesn't look bothered by August's request, or at least appears not to be. "Sure," she says.She follows him into the lounge. The building is empty except for the receptionist. They sit next to each other on the leather camel-tone lounge chairs.His eyes are sunken, and thick grey and black stubble lines his jaw. August runs his hands through his already dishevelled hair before he grabs her hand, holding it. Iverem eyes dart around the lobby, expecting Devon or Jonah to walk in any second."I wanted to thank you for last night," he says.Iverem nods. She's anticipating something. He's going to tell her something big."I never wanted you to hate me. But I have this really bad habit of making people feel just that about me.""Why?" she asks. And she can tell he wasn't expecting her to wonder about the inner workings of August's mind."I don't know," he says. There's a profound sadness in his answer, as if he's never truly known himself. "It's just the way I've always been.""You don't have to be that way with me," she says. "You can tell me how you feel."He gazes at her with a pained expression, and when Iverem's own regards August with curiosity, he averts his stare. "I heard you and Jonah are expecting."He was eventually going to hear about the baby, but Iverem didn't know Jonah would be so quick to tell everyone. She feigns a frustrated sigh. "We are," she says."That's wonderful," he says. August is mesmerized by her belly. The sweater she's wearing hides her baby bump, so she's perplexed why August stares at her as if she's about to go into labour. He's so fascinated by her predicament that he moves his other hand to rest on her stomach.
Ok, this is getting weird now.
August takes a deep breath that rattles his whole body. "I think it's mine."Iverem laughs. He's fully lost it."I was pregnant long before we got together," she says.He nods, agreeing with her. "Maybe... but I've been holding this thing inside me, and it's been eating me alive.""What are you talking about?""I've done something really bad, and I don't know if I can live with myself...Do you remember us speaking on July 4th?""Yeah," she says. She tries to piece together what could've happened on July 4th. She was knocked out the whole time, so she can only guess what she missed that evening."When you were unconscious, I took you to Jonah's room and instead of leaving you there..." He can't get the rest of his words out."What are you getting at?" Iverem says. She untangles her hand from his grip. "Just tell me.""I had sex with you that night," he says.Her ears begin to ring, and acrid bile starts to climb up her throat. "That isn't funny, August," she says, mimicking the playful action of smacking his arm chidingly.Yet, he remains silent."August," she says, trying to bring him back to sanity. Why would he say such a vile thing?"I'm sorry," he says.Iverem stares at him like she's finally seeing him for the first time – seeing him for who he truly is. She doesn't ask the "what, when, where, or why" because she knows she can't handle the details. She trusted him, even though a part of her knew she couldn't put her faith in a man like him. So, she shouldn't be surprised, more so disappointed in herself.As she continues to stare at him dumbfounded, she feels herself move out of her body. She can't feel the leather sticking to her skirt-clad thighs. She can no longer smell the stale odour of the lounge or taste the vomit quickly pooling in her mouth. She only sees her demoralized self, sitting across from the man she thought loved her – no – the man that raped her.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Ten Months Later

She can't move. Invisible hands are holding her down. Faceless entities loom over her, mocking her. They all begin to laugh, their masks transforming into demonic faces as they leer at her. Laughing as they prod at her body, running their fingers through her hair, in her mouth, squeezing her nipples, going in and out of her sex.

She screams as the demonic figures melt together into one, becoming her youth pastor Michael. This Michael is a crude duplicate of the original. He's decaying, the skin on his face flaking off like pencil shavings as he holds her down, repeating:

"I really like you, Iverem. Do you like me?"

Vehemently, she shakes her head.

Once the last of his skin has fallen off, underneath him is August. August smiles at her, that mischievous smile with the slight dimple on his right cheek, that same smile that stole her heart. August moves strands of wavy hair off his forehead before he kisses her. Iverem forgets herself and savours the kiss. He thrusts his tongue into her mouth in a hypnotic rhythm. August rolls his hips into her, and this ignites a fire in her belly.

"Tell me you love me," he whispers, biting the shell of her ear.

With those words, she can feel her heart break into two. She pushes him to get off of her, and as she gains distance from him, she gets a good look at his face. She's no longer staring up at August. Iverem is staring up at a replica of her.

"Mommy?" it says.
Iverem jerks awake.Jonah is asleep next to her; she can tell by how his head and arms are positioned at an awkward angle that he's having a wonderful dream. The broken air conditioning engine grates cool air out of the system. Her son cries in the room next to them.Her body feels like it's wading through Jell-o as she travels to her son's bedroom. His room is humid. The faulty wiring in the house's air conditioner exposed him to the Texas summer weather.Beads of sweat line his pert nose as he weeps. Iverem untangles Elliot from the hand-embroidered blanket Jonah's mother gifted them. When Elliot was born, there was no doubt that the New Westminster family considered him their next great hope. Jonah had brought his successor into this world. Although Iverem was the one who carried their child for nine months, they acted as if it was all Jonah's efforts that Elliot came to conception. Iverem tolerated their dismissive nature and considered the brighter side. At least the New Westminster family cherished her son. At least his grandparents visited him and showered him with gifts. And Iverem knew they would readily give it to him if Elliot needed anything. At least he has more than Iverem did when she was a kid.Everyone loves Elliot, and Iverem does, too. Yet, she finds it hard to hold her son and especially harder to breastfeed him. She's constantly trying to distinguish whether the slant of his eyes is similar to August's, or if the cupid's bow above his lip is like August's or Jonah's. Even now, as he cries in front of her, she's attempting to decipher if his grimace is the same as Jonah's when he's eaten something too spicy.Instead of coddling him, she opens a window. Outside, suburbia is quiet. Sprinklers in her neighbours' front yards oscillate, wetting their already deep green and manicured lawns. The sound of water spraying calms her frayed nerves. It was the right choice to move here with Jonah. He will ground her, protect her, and take care of her.She returns to her son's crib. His eyebrows, the hair is coming in, and their curve is similar to Jonah's. But his cheeks, when he smiles, there's a dimple in his cheek. A dimple at the same position on August's face. Soon, his facial features get muddied with her own, and Iverem becomes frustrated. Her body burns at the thought that Elliot looks like her. She hopes that when he gets older, Elliot's face will take more after his father's because she can't stand the sight of Elliot. He makes her mad. He makes her nauseous. She doesn't know how she'll break away from this hell.I never had a choice, she thinks. She blames her son for this.But I love him, she tells herself. I love him. She keeps repeating this until a small part of her begins to believe that she does indeed love him.
I have to love him because if I don't –
"Iverem?" Jonah says.She looks up at him. He stands by the door with a concerned look on his face. The sound of birds chirping steals Iverem's attention. Out the window, the sun is rising. In the crib, her son stares up at her with green eyes."Come," he says, ushering her to him. "Let's go back to bed."He tucked her into bed as if she was a child. "Stay home today," she says."Baby, I can't," he says. "They need me at the office."
God, Jonah's going to leave me with him.
Jonah walks to the bathroom to finish getting ready for work. "Maybe you should visit your mother," he says, returning to her bedside.She shakes her head."Think about it." He kisses her forehead in a similar infantilizing manner to how he tucked her into bed. Iverem can't be bothered to snap at him for this. "I called the nanny; she should arrive in a couple of hours. Take a break; I'll look after Elliot until she gets here."Iverem drifts in and out of sleep throughout the morning. At midday, she wakes up again and decides to take Elliot to visit her mother. This will be a good bonding moment, she convinces herself.With the nanny's help, Iverem loads the stroller into the minivan and Elliot into his car seat. She sits in the backseat with her son throughout the ride to her mother's inpatient care home. He's looking up at her, waving his hands in her face. She tries to entertain him but becomes fatigued rather quickly.As they move up the sprawling driveway, Iverem appreciates the scenery. The trees and shrubberies surrounding their path makes it easier for her to unclench her hands. Green has always helped her remain zen. The thought of her mother receiving the best care in Texas further puts her at ease.In the second trimester of her pregnancy, Iverem moved in with Jonah. It was best that she wasn't around her mother in such a vulnerable state. However, during the last trimester of her pregnancy, Iverem was put on leave without pay, which caused a strain on her finances. Unable to pay to keep up with the rent, Jonah offered to help. But due to her mother's accelerated deterioration, they decided to move her into hospice.Her mother's care unit is quiet. The TV in the recreation room hums as a newscaster drones on about world events. Residents sit on plastic-lined couches like statues. There's the taste of bleach in the air.When Iverem arrives at her mother's room, she passes Elliot to the nanny. Her quarters are decorated with furniture in beige and brown hues. The unnatural cleanliness of her bed and floor indicates that a nurse recently cleaned the area.Her mother is sitting by the window. Jonah paid a little extra for this room to get a view of the forest. When Iverem's mother moved into the room, on visits, Iverem often found her by the window, looking outside with a terse expression. Her mother hated the idea of living in hospice. It was a sign that the end was near.Iverem settles an unsure hand on her mother's shoulder to get her attention."Oh, there you are," her mother says, a smile spreading on her face.This is the first time in her life that Iverem's mother has been visibly happy to see Iverem. On the table is an unfinished puzzle depicting a whale."I'm sorry it's been so long," she says."It's ok," she says." Have a seat and finish this puzzle with me."The puzzle has a hundred pieces, so Iverem doesn't take long to complete it. Her mother stares at her in awe the entire time. "I've been trying to figure this one out all day," she says.Iverem nods. There's a frailty to her mother's body, like her bones will crumble if you hold her tight. "How are you today?" Iverem says."I'm good. You?"The blissful unawareness of her mother's movements further depresses Iverem. "I don't know if I can do this anymore," she whispers.She waits for her mother to scold her about being "dramatic" and to get a grip or something. Instead, she pats Iverem on her knee and says, "Don't worry, honey; you'll figure it out."Relief takes over, but only momentarily.Elliot gets restless, whining. Iverem's mother has met Elliot before. Their moments mostly involved her mother looking at her son in confusion. Today, there is clarity in her countenance."Aww, Iverem, come here," she says, hands reaching for her son.The nanny looks at Iverem for direction. Iverem signals for the nanny to comply with her mother's request. Her mother rocks Elliot in her arms."Oh, Iverem, shh," she says. "Mama's here."Iverem decides she has to love Elliot. Because if she doesn't try to, she's no better than her mother.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"You want another round?" Omar says.August looks into his cup, trying to figure out whether he can syphon any more alcohol from it. "Sure, why not," he says because what was the point of staying sober.August doesn't want to think about how much his life sucks this evening. Just yesterday, Jonah posted a photo of his son on Instagram. His name is Elliot. It's not the name August would've picked for his child. But as he stares at the professional portrait of Jonah, Iverem and his son again, August understands loud and clear that he has no place in their perfect little family.They're complete. They're whole. And every time he intervenes in their lives, he makes it worse. On second thought, he isn't too perturbed about ruining Jonah's life. But the disappointment on Iverem's face the day August told her what happened on the fourth will forever score his heart."On the house," Omar says, walking back to their booth. "Courtesy of the two girls across the bar."It's late at night, so most of the college crowd is clearing out. The much older groups are still loitering. The women at the bar are giving August fuck me eyes. August deduces they're hoping to get lucky tonight. He smiles at the women, pointing at his occupied ring finger. They get the hint and continue on their hunt for the night.Omar laughs. "You even talk to your wife anymore?"When August gave his father his report regarding the stolen funds, Jonah was fired within twenty-four hours. Within those same twenty-four hours, Devon discovered that he'd cheated on her. August was aware of the consequences when he decided to tell his father the truth, but his vindictiveness ultimately won over. He wanted to see Jonah lose, more than he wanted to save his marriage. And now, he was sleeping in the guest room, and his wife barely talks to him.Of course, their father shielded Jonah from the public humiliation. They made a statement that Jonah decided to step down as head of his department to focus on his growing family. The following months after his leave, Jonah found another cushy job at a high-rise in downtown Houston.Omar reached out to August a couple of months after the company overhaul. Jonah had also been blackmailing him. Jonah wanted Omar to incur most of the blame for their fraudulent operations, but Omar, just like August, decided to "let the chips fall as they may." This is what Omar told August during their phone calls. Not only did Omar lose his job at his father's company, he is currently going through a divorce since someone "mysteriously" sent his wife bank statements containing evidence that he'd spent most of the money in their savings account on gambling.You could say August and Omar commiserated over their estranged wives."This is my last drink tonight," August says."How are you getting home?" Omar says.August knows Omar wants to split on a ride share; he doesn't want to go home just yet. He wants to hold off on seeing Devon as long as possible, especially today. This morning, Devon will finally get her baby, and August wants to be nowhere near her on her big day. He would undoubtedly ruin it."I'm sleeping in my car tonight."Omar winces. "That bad, huh?"August rolls his eyes, not indulging Omar with answers to his prying questions.Outside the building, the oppressive heat somehow worsens his mood. He gains reprieve in his car, watching clubgoers as they leave the establishment, conversing with unbridled joy. Life seems much simpler —almost easy to live through.He places his hands on the steering wheel, feeling his scarred knuckles. Not all of the scars on his hands are from manual labour; some of them are from Edgar. His stepfather liked to fight, and when he couldn't fight with August's mother, he fought with August.Edgar would come to August's room when he was sleeping. He'd slap him to get his attention, telling him to get up. Then, he started tussling with August as if the idea of tormenting him was funny. Edgar only stopped when he was bloody and tired.As soon as August got good at throwing a punch, the bruises on his hands subsided. But the scars that stayed are a reminder. A reminder of the privilege he once had of not knowing the feel of crunching bones and battered muscles.He laughs at the memories — so hard he starts to hiccup. Once he loses his breath, the tears start to fall. When he comes back to consciousness, August finds himself at Jonah's house. He's parked across the driveway. Car tracks cover the lawn, and the mailbox lies across the street.August falls out of his car and stumbles towards the door. He bangs his fist on it a couple of times. Winded from his efforts, he sags against the railing."Hello?" Iverem says.He springs to his feet. "Hey," he says in a bashful manner.At first, she's surprised to see him. Quickly, she hides this reaction with a look of contempt. "What are you doing here?" she says, closing the door.August stares at Iverem for a moment. She renders him speechless. She's still so familiar yet so completely different. The fierceness in her eyes is still there. But the slight bend in her posture, as if she's carrying the entire world on her back, indicates that she's not the same woman he fell in love with. A part of August's heart breaks further, knowing that he's the cause of this.He moves closer to get a better look at her. In the darkness, he can make out her silhouette. She smells like flowers, and the urge to pull her into his arms is violent."Let me see him," he says instead."No," is the only thing she says."Iverem, let me see my son."She rubs her eyes, weary. She hasn't been sleeping. Maybe Iverem also needs and desires for someone to hold her—someone who truly loves her."He's not your son," she says. "And even if he were, you'll never be his father."She always knows just the right words to say to hurt him."You don't mean that."Iverem won't look at him.August cups her face. She's still, anticipating his next movements. "I'm sorry," he says."You're drunk."He nods, further bridging the gap between them. He can almost taste her. "I love you, Iverem. I think I always will.""I never want to see you again," she says.Another crack in his heart, but he prevails."Please," he says, placing his mouth on her cheek.He waits for Iverem to show any sign of distress. When she doesn't protest, he kisses the side of her mouth."Just this once," he says.August moves his hands to Iverem's shoulder. He massages the tight muscles down her back, and the bit of tension in her body eases."You know I'm sorry," he says, giving her a peck on the lips.He looks at her. Her eyes are closed, and her lip is curled upward, like she's ready to yell at him. August kisses her again before she can say another word. Her lips are just as soft as he remembers, her mouth just as hot, and the taste of her tongue just as sweet.The lust spiking throughout his body worsens his longing. He can't be the only one that misses this. This ache is overbearing; it pushes him down to his knees. He grips her legs, running his hands up her pyjamas and around her waist. He rests his head on her thigh."Iverem, please forgive me."She squeezes her eyes shut, breathing heavily."I need you," he says.He paws at her pants and underwear until they're off. He's going to make things better the only way he knows how. Lifting her leg, He places his mouth on her core. She's already wet, and her scent is magnificent. He laps at her folds, biting her labia when he doesn't receive the response he desires. Their relationship is built off this sick dance of giving and taking pain and pleasure. August doesn't think this dynamic will change, but maybe it was never wrong. Perhaps this is the only way they know how to love each other.She moans. The sound is soft, breathy and just a little bit miserable. Fingers find themselves in his hair. His own enters her tight channel while his mouth sucks on her nub."August," she says. Iverem's voice is filled with trepidation as if she will change her mind and send him away.He grips her hand, kissing her palm. "I know you want this as much as I do," he says. "Admit it."Iverem shakes her head. Pulling her hand out of his hold, she rubs her eyes again. She's trying to hide, but he won't let her.He begins kissing her again. There's an urgency within him to keep her here in this moment. The kisses are possessive, commanding — August lords over Iverem as he devours her, as he bends her to his will.The taste of blood is on his tongue when she turns her head. "Why are you doing this to me?" she says.Burying his face at the side of her neck, curls tickling his chin and forehead, he takes another bite of her skin. "I don't know... It's your fault... why didn't you come back to me?"August expected her to pursue him after that night in Colorado. At the time, the idea was half-hearted. But seven months passed, and she never even contacted him. He resents her for so easily forgetting him. He resents her for making him feel so weak, so pathetic.He lifts her by the waist. She wraps her legs around him to steady herself. "Wait," she says."Iverem, I need this... just let me have this," he says, fumbling with his zipper.August enters her in one swift motion. The tightness of her pussy gives some resistance, but they soon become joined by their pubic bone. Her muscles squeeze his length, and a shiver runs throughout his body. Time warps, trapping them in this moment. The heat of her breath on his skin, the sound of her moans and the taste of her sweat are all that matter right now. With a swivel of her hips, she is his undoing.~A banging in the kitchen causes his teeth to chatter, waking him from a lousy sleep. Devon is never this loud in the morning. When August opens his eyes, he realizes he's not at home."I want him out," Jonah says from the kitchen.Iverem's rebuttal is not as loud, so August measures the progression of the conversation based on Jonah's responses."I don't care," Jonah says, slamming a cupboard. "By the time I get back from work, I want him gone."August pretends to be asleep as they walk into the living room.Jonah opens the door, then abruptly closes it. "Are you fucking kidding me? How am I even supposed to get my car out of the garage?"Iverem sighs. "Take an Uber today.""He's going to pay for this mess," Jonah says, leaving the house.August squints an eye open. The brightness of the sun invokes a fierce headache. Iverem stands in front of him with a cup of water. He expects her to hand it to him, but she pours the water on his face."What the fuck," August says, getting up from the couch despite the world spinning in his vision."You heard him," she says. "You need to go."She walks up the house's elaborate winding staircase and disappears down the hallway."Iverem," August says, following after her. "Can we please just talk?"He finds her in a pastel-decorated room that makes him feel nauseous rather than serene. She looks into a crib with a mute expression. Tiny fingers peek from the railing, reaching up her. There is a second where Iverem's body reads dismissive toward Elliot's pleas, before she gives in and picks him up.Iverem turns with Elliot in her arms, facing August expectedly. From his pert nose to his big expressive eyes, Elliot is every bit his mother's incarnate. The defining feature certifying his relation to the Westminster family is his green eyes. What does Elliot get from him, maybe his olive skin?"Do you want to hold him?" she says. It isn't really a question because she quickly passes Elliot to August before he can answer.Elliot is soft in his hands. Delicate and soft. What a precious gift."Does Jonah know?" he says."No," she says, averting his stare by tidying up the room. "And he doesn't need to know. He's Elliot's father."He scoffs, giving her a wry smile. "That's not true. You don't know that for sure.""Why would that matter?" she scalds him with her glare. "What do you think will happen to him if your family finds out he is your son? They would practically disown him. Are you so utterly selfish that you'd commit your so-called son to the same childhood you had?"She's right, but August doesn't like the feeling this realization brings. "I need to know.""You don't need to know. Just like Jonah doesn't need to know. The only thing the truth does in this situation is make it worse."August gazes at Elliot, and the baby stares back at him with similar curiosity. "I don't know if I can live like this," he says."You will have to. Find happiness somewhere else. It's not here, and it never will be."He places Elliot back in his crib. August knows when he's being sent away.' "I understand," he says."I don't think you do," she says, her nostrils fluttering. He's wearing her patience. What happened last night can never happen again."He nods in acceptance. August decides to listen to his body's heaviness. He's tired of fighting for something that was doomed to fail.She turns back to the crib, shaking her head slightly. Maybe she's trying to admonish herself more than him.There are growing aches all over his body as he returns to his car. Some of the more lethal ones formed in his mind. Pulling away from the wreckage he's caused in Jonah's home, he returns to his own.The morning is quiet. There is little traffic on the highway, and the streets of Houston are barren. The hustle and bustle of the city can't distract him from the dreadful feeling that comes with the finality of an ending. Where is he supposed to go now?When he reaches home, Devon's car is parked in their driveway. He ponders on hiding out at the closet McDonald's he can find but musters up some courage to face her.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Iverem visits Jonah's office during lunchtime. She's made his favourite flatbread as a peace offering for the spectacle he witnessed this morning. When he was ranting about the damage August did to his lawn, Iverem could tell Jonah's patience was wearing thin. There is only so much he is willing to put up with regarding August's theatrics, and Iverem is likewise starting to feel the same way.She's resigned to the fact that her lust for August will forever burn. But the damage he's done to her psyche is not as easily reversible as one done to a lawn. And that ebbing pain Iverem feels whenever she thinks of him is starting to fester into tar-like hate. A resentment that's killing whatever love she had for him.The ring box in her sweater's pocket reminds her of what she must do today. Iverem never saw herself married to Jonah or anyone, for that matter. She's been going through life aimlessly. For goodness sake, she slept with her rapist last night. Who is she besides a victim of her circumstances? Before considering tying someone down to her forever, she has much to figure out.The brain fog she'd been battling was making it hard for her to see the bigger picture. But six months after giving birth to Elliot, Iverem now realizes that she must secure his future.  She must overcompensate for her baser instincts, like her inability to form that mother-son connection with Elliot, with the need to keep his possible conception a secret. Elliot will not grow up in a broken home like she did. Iverem will make sure of that.Jonah's assistant enters the reception. "He's ready to see you," she says.The assistant leads Iverem through the office. The sound of fingers tapping against keyboard keys emanates from grey and white cubicles as the click of the assistant's heels and the squeak of Iverem's sneakers echo down the hallway. Jonah's office is a modicum more personalized than the cubicles surrounding her. When she enters the room, she notices it overlooks downtown Houston, not too different from his father's offices. Familiarity is key for Jonah—and nowadays, for her, too.He's looking out the window, scrolling on his phone. "I brought you lunch," she says."You can put it on the table," he says.
Great, he's still mad.
She moves towards him. "I also came by to apologize for this morning."He glances at her from around his executive chair. "You didn't bring Elliot with you."She shakes her head. Should she have? Would that have made Jonah more forgiving? "I thought it would be good for us to spend time together.""I don't want to talk to you right now," he says.She places his lunch on the desk. Alongside is the ring box. She plays with the red velvet of the box. Keep thinking calm thoughts, positive thoughts, she tells herself.Jonah finally looks at her. He picks up the ring box and opens it. Inside the box is two silver rings. They're titanium, but the simplicity of the rings holds resonance.He cracks a smile. "Are you proposing to me Iverem?"Jonah isn't a traditionalist, and neither is Iverem. But the social implications of a woman proposing to a man hang over this action. She's indeed proposing to him because she has no other options. He probably already realizes this. But she's going to maintain the farce that this decision is a proclamation of love."I think it's time," she says.He says nothing but raises his eyebrows. "Are you still sleeping with him?"Caught red-handed, her face drops. "No, I'm not. But I understand if you can't forgive me for my past mistakes."He sighs, leaning back on his chair. Jonah's hair is impeccably styled, his beard perfectly trimmed, and his tailored dark blue suit sharp. What a heartthrob, through and through—from university till now. As he gazes at her, she wonders why he even bothers with her."It's ok. You couldn't help yourself," Jonah says. "You're prone to self-sabotage.""I don't –"She stops herself from saying anything more. Maybe Jonah is right. What they have together makes sense. And what she had with August was dysfunctional and retched and wrong in every logical sense."You dither sometimes, but you know where you belong," he says.He puts on a ring. Gazing at the metal, he takes his time to decide whether he likes the piece or not. A slight shrug and an immediate return to his phone signifies he accepts the gift.Oh, so predictable; Iverem picks up the other ring.The room feels like it's about to swallow her up, but the world already has. A good nap might help her feel better. It might help Iverem forget about all her past mistakes and the events that led up to this moment. Instead, she wears the ring, thinking the action will relieve her.Surprisingly, it does.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

From the vestibule, August can hear his mother and Devon talking in the living room. For good reason, August hasn't spoken to his mother since his birthday. But an incomprehensible guilt causes him to pause any advances into the home.Ladybird runs into the room and pounces on August, effectively breaking his cover. Soon, his mother and Devon make their way into the hallway. Devon glances at him as she takes a handful of baby clothes upstairs."You're finally home," his mother says.The smile on her face indicates that all is forgiven. Her smile is supposed to appease him. It only causes a blistering anger to bubble within August. She's in the wrong, not him. He had nothing to atone for regarding her feelings and his decision to withdraw from their relationship."We need to talk," she says."What more do we have to talk about?" If he can evade his mother, he may catch up to Devon before she heads out."It's about your father and our relationship."Well, this is an interesting turn of events. "Are you going to be honest?""I've always been honest with you."His mother's eyes hold a conviction, suggesting she truly believes she did her best as a mother. Both his mother's reality and August's own were valid. Yet, his mother couldn't see past her self-righteousness and understand that she had hurt him. She'd been one hell of a negligent mother, and because of that, now he doesn't know how to be a well-functioning adult."You aren't being honest about what happened between you and Dad.""I am!" she says. His mother rushes to him, gripping his hands. "My whole life, people have tried to force me to become what they wanted. And when I chose to be myself, they persecuted me."He rips his hands away from her. "You were selfish.""You know well enough that it was more than that. Your father's family is ruthless. There was only so much I could put up with."He sneers at her. "So you decided that being with Edgar was the better choice.""No," she shakes her head. His mother can't even look at him anymore. "But you need to stop letting him ruin your life.""He's not," he says. His clothes are starting to feel too tight. He doesn't want to talk anymore, and he needs a shower."Fine," she says, raising her hands in surrender. "Just please stop pushing me away. Stop pushing away the people who love you."A snide comment is on the tip of his tongue, ready to be unleashed. Devon's return to the vestibule halts the remark."August," she says, nodding in acknowledgment of him, a rather professional acknowledgment that almost makes him laugh.She leaves the house, and he follows after her."Hey!" his mother calls for him.He waves her off.As Devon gets into her car, he slips into the passenger side. "Devon – ""Shh," she silences him. "I'm picking up Jose today. Are you coming with me?"Her gaze is expectant. For the sake of their marriage, August has no other choice but to agree. He fiddles with his fingers before placing them on his lap. He chooses silence in this moment. Devon's hand tapping the steering wheel and the car's turn signals are the only sounds as they drive to the adoption agency. Devon is punishing him, not with the silent treatment, but with something worse: the consequences of his actions.Besides the slight greying of her roots, Devon looks as pristine as when she found out August cheated on her. She's an appealing woman in every sense of the word. August wonders why he fell out of love with her. Most importantly, he tries to remember why he fell in love with her.He met Devon at the gym—no, he met her at their local recreation centre by the pool. Her front stroke was impressive. She cruised through the water like she controlled its motion. Her technique was precise, powerful, confident. If she went to war with the sea, he knew she'd win.August fell in love with her at first sight.A few weeks later, he ran into Devon again as she exited the changing room. Devon was demure. Soft-spoken when he asked for her name. August just graduated college and hadn't had much experience in dating, so her double personas intrigued him. Quickly, he learnt that she was the star of her high school swimming team, that she never corrected the waiter when they got her order wrong, and she came from a long line of women who religiously bleached their hair blonde and were all married before the age of thirty.His intrigue with Devon died shortly after, as did his so-called love for her. Left behind was a weighty frustration. He hated that the worst of her personality rubbed off on him. He hated that his proximity to her made him compliant. And ten years later, he found it much harder to extract himself from her.They arrive at the adoption agency when it starts raining. Pitiful droplets fall from the sky. Rushing dark clouds warn of an oncoming harsh pour. The parking lot is a good distance from the building. August thinks this is the time to be chivalrous."I can go get him," he says."No, we should go together." Her tone implies that going inside with each other is better for the optics. For whom? Who knows? Possibly for herself. Devon has envisioned this day for years. He assumes her desire for them to appear as a united front quieted some of her insecurities about becoming a mother. Because what was worse than being childless? Single motherhood.He doesn't push further with the idea.In that horrid waiting room August thought he'd never see again, their lawyer and a social worker stand beside a stroller. Devon lifts the stroller's cover, and a chubby little Mexican baby is underneath.Devon exhales, a permanent smile gracing her face."Congratulations," the social worker says. Their lawyer says the same thing but in a different variation of words.She nods at them, but August can tell she hasn't heard a word. The rain has intensified on their way back to the car."I'll drive us back home," he says. "You can sit with Jose."August merges onto the highway. Rain pelts the car. He can't see the road before him, and the surrounding cars become a mirage. Thunder echoes. Lightning splits the sky.The baby is wailing.He recalls the memory of him and Iverem drenched and muddy, fucking in the forest."Pull over," Devon says."We're almost there," he says."The baby, he's scared.""What do you need right now?" August says as he maneuvers off the highway."There should be some watermelon in the trunk. Can you please hand the bag to me?" she says, unbuckling Jose from his car seat and taking him into her arms.After he retrieves the pouch of crushed watermelon, he returns to the driver's side of the car and observes Devon with Jose."The social worker says these are his favourite." She rocks the baby, intermittently feeding him watermelon when he becomes restless again. She's perfect with Jose."I don't want your apologies," she says."Ok," he says. Unsure of what to do."And I know you're back only because you have nowhere to go.""That's not true."She looks up at him. "You don't have to lie to me. I don't have anywhere to go to either."He nods. The action dissipates the tears in his eyes."I understand. You don't have to be alone," she says. "But if you ever cheat on me again, I will leave you."And that is it. The conversation is done, and he is glad.It's still raining, so they sit silently as the storm passes.We are an odd family, he thinks.But he thinks of his parents and realizes they are regular compared to them. Then, he acknowledges that Devon has given him a second chance. He's rarely experienced this, and he feels relief and pride at these two realizations.