It was pointless to beat a dead horse… when it was lying in front of you, lifeless.
“No, don’t answer that. You don’t owe me any explanations,” I paused. “I guess we’re even,” I said not being able to stop myself.
“That’s not what it was about, Bambi.”
Hearing him call me that was the worst pain of all. It didn’t make me feel special; it made me feel sick. I placed my hand on my stomach to control the uneasiness of the situation we found ourselves in.
How the fuck did it come to this?
“Was she good? Was she better than me?” I blurted without thinking.
His eyes widened, he was shaken and stunned.
“Fuck…” I placed my hand on my forehead in distress. “I came looking for Bella, I knew she was coming here. I just never… I didn’t think… I don’t know what I thought,” I rambled and he stepped closer to me.
“Don’t,” I stated, backing away. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m sure everything will work itself out. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” I turned and left, trying to control my breathing, and the tears that were at bay. I could feel my composure shattering, and the last thing I wanted or needed was for him to see it. He had seen me fall apart enough for one lifetime.
“Bambi, don’t leave like this. Let me explain! It’s not what you think!” he pleadingly hollered. The pure desperation in the sound of his voice pissed me off. He wasn’t allowed to feel sorry for me.
I abruptly turned, facing him. “Brooke! My name is Brooke!”
He jerked back, wounded.
“We’re done. We’ve been done for so fucking long. Goodbye, Devon,” I calmly stated, my voice breaking and my body shaking.
I left without letting him say goodbye, because I knew I would breakdown if I heard the words come out of his mouth. I cried the entire way home. I didn’t think I had any more tears to cry, and I promised myself I wouldn’t cry for him again. I had learned my lesson, ten times over.
I walked into my condo, and Ysabelle was sitting on my couch with Chance’s head on her lap. We looked into each other’s eyes from across the room.
“I’m so sorry,” she wallowed, tears swelling in her eyes.
“Why?” was all I could reply.
She proceeded to tell me everything that had happened to her in a course of twenty-four hours, and I swear I thought I was watching a movie as she explained it. I learned that afternoon that Madam was truly the puppet master, and she had not only hurt me, but hurt Ysabelle as well. The woman we thought we could trust, a second mother to me, and a first to her…
Everything we were supposed to be as a VIP—the fantasy, the dream, and the illusion—turns out Madam was exactly that. I wasn’t going to tell Ysabelle’s story; it was hers to share…
Though she had a plan, a plan that I avidly accepted.
I couldn’t blame her for her decisions based on the impact of her discovery. I barely knew what to do with it myself. She was emotionally fucked up after learning everything. She needed to numb herself, she needed to forget, and I assumed that’s what Devon was going to tell me. She said that they both had used each other. She knew it was wrong, and it may have caused her to lose Sebastian.
At the end of the day… no one was perfect, we all had made our beds, and now we had to lie in them. I could forgive her, and I could probably forgive him too. I’m sure it would take Sebastian some time, but they would find their way back to one another.
They were soul mates.
It didn’t take away the pain, hurt, and loss we both felt that afternoon. I mirrored and matched her despair, sorrow, and regret, we were one in the same. After she shared her story, I told her mine.
“I don’t know how everything got so out of hand. I would never want to hurt you. Devon hadn’t said anything to me, and you didn’t either. It was a shock when he told me last night. I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrugged, sitting next to her on my couch. “I wish I could tell you. I honestly don’t know. I’ve always put Sebastian and you on this pedestal, I guess, I was afraid I wouldn’t live up to it. You’ve always had everything, and for once… I wanted something of my own.”
“Jesus, Brooke, you know that’s not true. I mean you know how we started off. I’m obviously here for a reason. Look at me now. I would never want you to feel that way.”
I nodded. “I know that now. I guess appearances can be deceiving.”
“Are you guys? I mean… what’s going to happen with you?”
“We’re done, Bella. We’ve hurt each other so much. I don’t think we can come back from that. I love him, and I know he loves me, but maybe that’s not enough,” I wiped the tear away from my cheek. “So much for not crying anymore,” I snickered.
She grabbed my hand for support. “Never say never, trust me, Brooke, I know that more than anyone. Devon is one of the most amazing men I have ever had the privilege of meeting. And you’re… well… you know… fucking crazy,” she smiled, laughing, making me grin.
“Everything will fall into place, for all of us. We just have to have faith.” She pulled me into a tight hug, and for the first time in my life.
I prayed that she was right.
“Hey, Kid,” I answered my cellphone six weeks later.
“Hey,” Ysabelle greeted. “So… I’m leaving.”
“Come again?”
“I’m done here. I'm going to take a sabbatical for a bit, and try to go home."
“Are you okay?”
“I hope so.”
“What about VIP? I thought you took over?”
She laughed. “It’s in the right hands. I’ve washed myself of it. It was never mine, Devon.”
“Who—”
“Everything will fall into place. I promise,” she vigilantly interrupted.
“Take care of yourself, okay? Let me know once you’re settled.”
“Of course. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“And, Devon?”
“Yeah?”
“Sometimes people need to royally fuck up to find out what they need in life. It’s human. I’ve done it all my life, and I’m hoping for once that it leads me back to where I belong. But forgiveness is a bitch.”
I laughed.
She giggled. “I’m hoping it wont be that hard to make things right… for all of us,” she added.
“Wow,” I replied taken back.
“What?”
“Look at you… who’s the fortune cookie now?”
She loudly laughed. “Shut up.”
“Bye, Kid.”
“Bye, doll.”
I hung up.
I hadn’t spoken to Brooke since that morning at my house. I didn’t expect to talk to her. We had both come full circle. As much as it killed me that we couldn’t find our way back to each other… we may have healed one another in other ways.
I just prayed that wherever she was, she was happy, and that she was thinking of me.
Because I sure as hell…
Was thinking of her.
I heard her heels walking up the steps of the stairs.
Perfect.
Precise.
I looked out the window from the other side of the desk. All she could see was the back of the leather chair. She opened the double doors, and I sat, waiting.
“Bella Rosa, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment. I’ve dreamt about it since I looked into your bright, vibrant green eyes. You’re finally where you belong… home,” she praised.
I smiled, big, bright, and high as I gradually turned the chair around. As soon as she saw me the air from her body began to bleed from her lungs, right onto my office hardwood floors. I was sitting with my legs crossed, and my arms folded over my chest, fully facing her.
“Hello, Lilith.” I grinned with devious eyes, and cocked my head to the side. “Like what you see?”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Brooke, where’s Ysabelle?”
I waved m
y manicured finger in the air, exactly how she had done to me millions of times. “Now, that’s Madam to you, darling.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” she argued.
I begrudgingly shook my head. “Angry is really not a good look for you. You’re getting old, Lilith, wrinkles… you know… they don’t forgive,” I mocked in a condescending tone.
“Ysabelle is where she is supposed to be, as am I. Although, I don’t really like the term Madam, it’s so… old, kind of like you. I may retire it. I happen to like my name, Brooke; besides I don’t need to feel like a queen, I’m already one. That’s the difference between you and me. I don’t need people kissing my ass and fearing me. Oh my… VIP is in for a change, darling.”
“If you so think—”
“I don’t think,” I interrupted, shaking my head, and looking at my watch, glancing back up at her. “I don’t have time for this, and I honestly don’t care to explain myself to you. You fucked with the wrong VIP, and if you want some answers, there’s a letter on my desk for you. It’s more consideration than I would have given you, but Ysa is a good soul.”
I stood up and rounded my desk, stopping right behind her. “You have twenty minutes to get the fuck off my property or you’ll be escorted out. Have a nice life.” I kissed the air twice and left.
As I was leaving the driveway of The Cathouse, I saw a street bike pulling up. I watched as he took off his helmet, and shook out his hair.
Mika.
Well… at least she would have someone.
“How does that make you feel?” my therapist asked, looking up at me from her notebook.
“Like shit,” I honestly replied, making her laugh.
“Nice choice of words there, Devon, great to know that you’ve been coming to see me for the last four months, and your manifestation of feelings have developed so amazingly.”
I smiled. “I’m feeling better than I was a few weeks ago. The sleeping pills work… for the most part. I know I have to forgive myself, and I struggle with that everyday; though it’s getting easier.” I arched an eyebrow. “Better?”
“Much. Now tell me about the dreams? Any changes?”
“They’re not as intense, and I’m able to wake up faster than normal. They don’t drag on, and my eyes open rather than screaming myself awake.”
She nodded. “They will get easier, as more time goes by. How do you feel when you leave here?”
I sighed. “Relieved.”
“Why is that?”
“I don’t know… Like I told you before, I’ve done this counseling thing several times. For the first time, I feel a sense of calm. I’m able to share with you, what I wasn’t able to share with them.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“I wasn’t ready,” I simply stated. “I hadn’t hit my rock bottom. Using my best friend Ysabelle to forget with sex, and having her do the same with me. Then Brooke knowing, finding out about it. I didn’t want to hurt her anymore, especially after what I did to her in the bathroom. It was just… I hated myself for all of it. I still kinda do, which is what led me here. I hit my rock bottom,” I repeated.
She smiled. “Very good, Devon, very good. Tell me about the girl? How’s that going?”
I shrugged. “The same. I haven’t spoken or seen her since…” I paused, thinking about it. “Maybe shy of six months now. I still feel awful for what I did to her, but a part of me knows that… or at least hopes that she knows that. I have to forgive myself and I struggle with that everyday, but it’s getting easier. I think,” I added. “My family and I are closer than ever. I have even cut back being at the club so much. My staff can handle it. I’m trying to let go of some control, ‘trying’ being the operative word, Doc.”
She laughed. “It will get easier, I promise. Control isn’t a bad thing, Devon. You just need to learn when to let it go sometimes. And love is brutal, especially for someone like you; like both of you. It’s very difficult to make a relationship work in general. Now add in two broken people, who didn’t love themselves, into the equation; it’s usually a recipe for disaster. How can you love someone, if you don’t love yourself?”
I nodded. “I understand. If I could go back, you know what? I can’t go back. All I can do is move forward the best I can.”
“You can’t change the past, Devon, the years of abuse you underwent will take a lot of healing. It’s why you have me.”
“Yeah… I know.”
“Good, because our time is up. Homework time.”
“Oh, how I love the homework,” I sarcastically said.
“I want you to start journaling, the good days, the bad days, the in between days. I want you to write them down, and try to do it at least once a day. Nighttime would work best, since you can reflect on your day.”
“Okay.”
“Here you go.” She handed me a notebook.
“Didn’t think I’d go get one, Doc?”
She laughed. “I like to eliminate any what ifs. I’ll see you next week.”
I shook her hand, and went to pick up Ethan from my mom’s.
“How was he?” I asked, kissing him on the head. He barely turned to acknowledge me, too captivated by Elmo on the screen.
“An angel, exactly like his father.”
“Hmm…” I replied, kissing her head.
“You look good, honey, I’m proud of you. I know how much it’s taking you to keep going back to therapy, but it’s working. I can see it in your eyes.”
I grinned. “Oh yeah? What do you see, Mom?”
“The calm to your storm,” she simply stated, making me smile, and think about her.
“Nice choice of words.”
“I think so, Mom always knows best.”
“That you do, huh?”
“Everything will be okay, Devon, you’ll see.”
And for the first time in a long time,
I believed her.
“Madam—”
“Brooke. Andrew, I’ve told you before my name is Brooke, not Madam,” I interrupted.
“I know, Mad… Brooke, it takes some getting use to.”
“Well get use to it. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m happy to hear that. I’ve been working with VIP since before you were born, and it’s never run the way you’re doing it. It’s never been better.”
“Thank you, I agree.” We laughed.
“I’m serious. You’re doing right by these VIP’s, and they know that. The fact that you’re only taking twenty-five percent cut, and giving them seventy-five percent. Well that speaks volumes.”
“I’ve been on the other side of this desk, they do more of the work than I do. I don’t need the money; trust me I have more than I know what to do with. I want my girls happy, and as long as they continue to be, then I’m doing my job.”
“It’s refreshing.”
We continued our meeting, then we exchanged goodbyes, and he left. I had been in charge of VIP for the last nine months. The transition was fairly easy, I already knew a lot about the organization. Though Andrew wasn’t exaggerating, I definitely changed a lot of things; I gave it the makeover it needed. It was refreshing for the VIPs’ as much as the clients.
I wanted the girls to have their own lives, outside of VIP. It was what they did, it wasn’t who they were, and I let them know that immediately. Some of them had boyfriends, and as long as they didn’t fuck with my business, then I didn’t care. I wanted them to feel like they were more than an escort; I never called them treasured jewels. They provided a service, and in exchange they got a family.
VIP.
They worked when they wanted to, some more than others. They came and went as they saw fit for their lives, not mine. They made their own rules, and I followed them. I didn’t pretend like Madam. I had been on the other side of that desk, and I sure as hell fixed everything that needed to change. No longer the outsider looking in.
I also got closer to my family, we had weekly gatherings at my parents?
?? house with my sisters, and their families. I accepted my parents’ marriage for what it was. They were happy, and at the end of the day that’s all that mattered. I was no one to judge anyone’s relationship, and if it worked for them, then it was their business. Not mine. I wished I had realized that decades ago.
Ysabelle and Sebastian found their way back to each other, as I knew they would. They were happy, and I was delighted for them. They deserved there happily ever after. More than anyone I knew.
That’s why I held the invitation so tightly in my hand. It had been delivered that afternoon, and I had yet to read the letter that was attached. I was terrified of what it would say, but I imagined it couldn’t be half as bad as my mind thought it would be. I unfolded the piece of paper.
Dear Brooke,
I’m sure you’re thinking why am I sending you an invitation to Ethan’s birthday party. Plain and simple; our family misses you, and even though my son doesn’t say it, I know he misses you too. Forgiveness is a very tricky thing, because you never want to forget the past. Mistakes are made to make us better people, people we are proud to say we are. It has taken me a very long time to realize that…
I spent many decades blaming myself for my deceased husband’s choices; too much time. The truth is I wasn’t the one that hurt our family, he was. Devon has had to face the ultimate sacrifice for us all. My boy grew up too fast; too soon. But you brought life back into him. I saw a light that I never thought would be possible for him. He had seen too much, experienced too much. You. You put a Band-Aid on a situation that needed to be stitched and healed. And I will always be grateful to you for that.
I've learned that you can't change the past Brooke. However, the future is a completely different story.
That is why you are holding that invitation, and this letter in your hands. You both deserve a storybook ending. Ethan’s birthday party is in six weeks. I think that will give you plenty of time to think it over.
I trust that you will make the right decision, for the both of you. A mother’s intuition is always right. You’ll learn that one-day.
With love, Jasmine.