We've Met Before

24 - History Repeats Itself

KAIA

The world has fallen on top of me as I knew it. I knew something was wrong, I acknowledged it to myself multiple times before arriving to this point.
I tricked myself into feeling comfortable enough to live with all of it.
Nothing can prepare me for this moment.
I knew Gabby had betrayed me, I knew Dahlia was keeping things from me, and I'd go as far to say I knew Cade was too.
"I slept with Gabby on our last day in Florida."
I gasp out loud, a sob in the back of my throat.
I feel a pang in my chest. The sharpest pain I've felt along this whole process.
The knife twists inside my stomach, and it almost feels grueling to exist under these circumstances. The car is moving too slow, and I don't want to be here anymore.
I don't want to be near him.
"Stop the fucking car." My voice is breaking apart, but I need to get the fuck out of this car. My lungs are suffocating and Cade doesn't have any spare air for me this time.
    My mind starts picturing them together, both of their breaths mingled in between each other.
    I start to think about all the times Cade's done things with me, never daring to actually have sex with me. He's touched me on the surface, made me think that it was intimacy.
    Was I too disgusting? Did the thought of actually making love to me fill him with repugnance? What about me wasn't enough for him?
    All the times he groaned against my skin, and kissed me in ways I had never let anyone do before, was it all fake? Did he not mean a single word of it?
    He wasn't willing to fuck me, but he happily did with Gabby.
    The car keeps speeding down the road, Cade not responding to me.
    "Cade, stop the fucking car!" I shout, my cries finally making their way out of me. I feel my tears stream down my face, wetting my shirt and my grey leggings. My face feels sticky, and my body feels disgusting.
    I feel out of place.
    Stupid me right? Thinking I belonged on the arm of Cade Steele. I laugh at myself through my sobs.
    "Stop the car or I'll open the fucking door while you're going 50 on the road," I shout again, grabbing the handle of the car.
    I need to get out.
    "Kaia, please—"
    I need to get out.
    "STOP THE FUCKING CAR, CADE."
    He stops on the side of the road, opening his door and rushing towards the other side of mine. I open the handle and jump off, trying to rush away from Cade. I know that if I look at him I'll start to doubt myself.
    He grabs my wrist, stopping me from leaving any farther.
    "Kaia, please let me explain—"
    "You know, I never understood why you acted the way you did the morning after. I mulled over the possible reasons for months, counting over every single thing about me that I know isn't enough for you." He looks at me, almost as tearful as I am. "You have no idea what happened to me that night, and the guilt of losing you, and my mother brought me into a hole I still haven't dug myself fucking out of."
    I walk towards him, testing how far my self control actually is. I point a finger to his chest. "I'm not letting you explain, because I understand perfectly fine."
Cade grabs my shaking body, hauling me tightly against his chest. I want to tell him to leave. I want to push him away and tell him that I hate him, but I don't. I love him in the ways I'm capable of loving.
"Because if I weren't pathetic, because maybe if I was better; if I weren't ugly, if I weren't stupid, if I wasn't my mother's daughter; then I'd be fucking good enough."
I slip through Cade's fingers, climbing back inside the car and shutting the door lightly.
——
"I want to go home," I say, staring out at the window.
Cade seems to understand what I mean by home, turning right towards my mom's house. Hopefully she isn't there, but I need to be alone. I want to smell the oak, and maybe look at the annotated books my dad left for me.
Cade nods and drives.
He parks in the driveway, stepping out and opening my door. I get out, ambling to my front door. I can hear Cade's footsteps behind me but I choose to ignore them.
I walk in, hearing him close the door.
"I want you to leave," I say, turning straight towards the study. I don't want him to leave.
I lean against the desk, facing away from him. I feel his back against my own, his breath hot on my neck.
"I saw you that night. I saw you walk away with him." His voice is angry. He's less concerned than he was five minutes ago, and this makes me scared.
It makes my skin crawl, and my body heat up. My face flushes and it takes every inch of me to not turn around.
"You're a fucking dick. My mom overdosed that night, and you weren't anywhere to be found. He helped me get to the hotel, helped me find my dying fucking mother. Maybe, if you had been more of a fucking man, then we wouldn't be in this situation."
He inches closer to me, pressing his groin against my ass, pushing me against the desk. "Do you want to check how much of a man I am?"
"I fucking hate you." I feel livid. I'm frustrated. I'm fuming. I'm hot and sweating.
His breath cools on my neck. "Say it again."
"I hate you."
"Tell me to leave, and I will."
I bite my tongue, tasting a bit of blood roam along my lips. "Leave."
He removes himself off me, walking towards the door of the study and slamming it shut. I stand against the desk, pressing my hands against the oak.
I can't think straight.
I can't think at all.
And that's the only thing I'm truly good for.
I push myself off, stomping towards the door, and opening it. Cade stands on the other side, his hand lingering just above where the door knob would be.
I smash my lips against his, tasting the mixture between his minty saliva and the blood from my tongue. He moans into the kiss, grabbing my ass and lifting me onto the desk. His hands immediately fly to the bottom hem of my shirt, lifting it up and exposing my white lace bra.
"Sex is a transaction, Kaia," he pants into the kiss, exploring my breasts through the fabric of my bra. "I don't do foreplay."
His dick presses against my leggings, his length rubbing against my clit as he digs into me again, and again, and again.
"I don't care what the fuck it is for you," I snap, getting annoyed at the fact he's taking so long to get it over with.
"I like it better when you're moaning."
He lifts me slightly, grabbing the waistband of my leggings and dragging them down my legs, leaving me in just my underwear. He steps back for a few seconds, breathing out as he stares at me.
I feel exposed, vulnerable. I cover myself slightly, huddling my arms against my stomach and tightening them around my shoulders.
He shakes his head, grabbing both of my wrists and slamming my back against the top of the desk, my wrists hanging above me.
"You piss me off. You don't listen, you don't have any regards for yourself, you're stubborn as shit," he kisses my neck, simmering down to the top of my breasts.
He moved my bra down, so my tits are on full display for him, aching for his touch.
I grab his shoulders, steadying myself against him.
"Is this how Gabby felt?" I ask, digging my nails into skin from the sheer anger of it all.
He groans, staring at me through his fanned lashes, his eyebrows furrowed. "I don't remember fucking any of it, because it didn't fucking mean anything to me."
He slaps my right breast, and I yelp, slapping his face as a response.
A smile appears on his face. "I'm going to fuck an apology for you, and you'll be begging me to apologize one more time for safe keeping."
"Not sure your apology is going to be big enough," I tease, hearing the zipper of his trousers rustle. I watch as he bends down to take them off, leaving him in just his grey Calvin's and nothing else.
His toned stomach tenses with every single breath, his arms stretching above me as he holds my wrists together again. He takes one of his hands and pulls his length out. He's big, and I'm suddenly eating shit for telling him he wasn't.
I had only felt it through his pants, or grazing my leg, or ass, but I don't think any of that could possibly have prepared me for what it actually looks like.
I stare at his blue eyes, keeping a straight face as he suddenly pushes into me. His fingers push my panties to the side. He enters me, making my eyes roll back and my body tremble.
"Cade!"
"Tell me how much you fucking hate me."
He pulls out, steadying himself at my entrance again. He pushes his mouth against mine, molding himself to every movement I make. He's eating me alive, taking every inch of sanity left of me and bringing it into his hands.
"I hate you."
He rams into me again, and I scream.
"Is it too much?" He whispers against my mouth, his hands dropping my wrists and moving onto my waist. "Tell me its too much and we'll stop."
"Keep going. God, please keep fucking going."
He slams into me again, this time leaving no room for adjusting because as soon as he pulls out, he goes back in.
He moans into my mouth, his hair sweaty and damp as he thrusts into me over and over again. It feels like bliss and the beach. It feels like anger and happiness mixed into one.
I'm still angry as ever, and I promise he's going to feel it.
He goes faster, and I feel myself begin to feel my orgasm, and I know he is too. He's becoming sloppy, and it's a matter of just a couple more seconds of friction. He opens his mouth, not a single sound coming out, and I know he's about to.
I do the hardest thing possible, and I shove him off, not letting him finish.
He shakes his head, slamming his hand on the desk.
I look at him, inching my hand down to my heat, circling my fingers around myself, slowly, throwing my head back at the feeling.
"Sit." I order.
He obeys.
He sits down on the office chair, keeping his stands on the arm rests beside him.
"You could have me. Nobody's ever had me, you know. I'm completely untouched by everyone except myself. I think of you when I play with myself. In the shower, or alone in my room."
His dick twitches against his leg, precum pooling at the tip.
He can barely breath, and all he does is watch as he claws at the chair. I stand up and straddle him, positioning him at my entrance.
I'm going to come on my own terms, and not when he fucking wants me to.
I lower myself, feeling him deeper than I did before. He moves his arms to grab my hips but I stop him. "Hands to yourself."
"Kaia, please—"
"I hate you, and I don't let people I hate touch me."
"Do you let them fuck you like this?" He breaths, fisting his hands against the arm rests.
I smile, bobbing up and down on him. "Maybe I should. You did...right? Did she feel like this?"
I lean in, making sure not to whisper. "How tight was she, Cade?"
He grabs my hips, lifting his torso from under me and thrusting deep into m. My body jostles as he doesn't stop. He groans, every whine sending me deeper and deeper into my release.
"I can't hold back when it comes to you," he mutters.
"Don't," I respond, yelling for him to continue.
Is this what I was missing out on all along?
He pauses. "Do you still hate me?"
I nod, my eyes dropping and tired.
He rams into me, filling me again with such force that I jerk back.
"Wrong answer. Do you still hate me?"
I smile, nodding just to feel him again.
His dick shoves inside me one more time, bringing me over the edge I was balancing on. All the anger, all the rage washed out of me through one final push.
He pulls out from under me and his cum lands directly on my stomach, splattering across my abdomen as he leans his head against my shoulder. I shake lightly, holding onto his back for support. He doesn't let go of me, wrapping his arms around my waist and smelling my neck.
"I love you. I'll love you just as much as you hate me." The words huddle me just as close as his arms do, smoothing my hair over, and playing with the lines of my curves and hips.
"I'm so sorry, Kaia. I'm so sorry and it'll never be enough to just say sorry. It will never be enough and I'll spend every fucking breath hoping you know how deep my love for you is. I wake up because I know you're next to me. I go to sleep because I know you're next to me. I'm alive because I know that somewhere in this fucked up world, a blonde girl named Kaia Turner wakes up and decides to live her life for others."
I'm crying.
"I want you to stop doing that. I want you to live because you're worth more than all the pain, and you're worth more than all the bullshit around you."
I breathe him in, my nose rubbing against his neck as we hold each other. "That's what got my mom inside a hospital room. That's what probably made Gabby so angry at me. I'm a fuck up, Cade."
His silence carries so much fear until he talks.
"That last night in Florida... it was the day my dad got readmitted into the hospital. I was off taking my mom's call when you left, which is probably why you couldn't find me when you walked back inside." His fingers draw lines on my back, scribbling things I can't fully decipher. "I got so fucked up that night. All I could do was drink because it felt good, it felt like I wasn't myself anymore. I couldn't go find you at that point. I didn't want you seeing me like that."
I recollect the story, remembering the cold hospital room in Florida. I probably would've felt better if it was the hospital here in Houston, it's a bit more familiar. It doesn't smell so much of death and sickness.
"I don't remember how it happened, but I woke up, and Gabby was there beside me, wrapped in a towel and nothing else."
I try not to squirm.
"Do you not remember anything that happened?" I'm afraid to ask the question because I honestly don't want an answer with any details.
He betrayed me. Whatever way you want to look at it. I was upset too, I was going through shit too, but I didn't sleep with his friend. I didn't sleep with someone he was so keen on helping.
I'm going to kill her as soon as I see her.
She messed with me, and then with Cade.
"I don't. I don't think I give enough shits to anyways."
    I raise an eyebrow, peeling myself from his smooth skin. I'm automatically cold, shivering at the lack of contact between the both of us.
    He sighs, tossing his head back. "Kaia, I know nothing I say will make you believe me, and I don't want you to believe me. I'm happy you're thinking for you own benefit instead of someone else's. Kaia a couple of months ago would've believed me and told me it was just a whim of the moment." He tucks a piece of hair behind me ear, looking at my face like he's trying to figure me out.
    He's right.
    Any other time, I would've told him it's okay, and that I understand. I would've let him smash my mirror into a billion pieces, and I would've let him watch as I picked all the pieces up, trying to rearrange them into whatever shape they were before.
I hate my reflection.
——
The sun sets as the garden blooms from the soil, reaching for the last bits of the sunshine left in the sky. They're wilted. Burned from overexposure to said sunlight.
    Reaching constantly for the same thing that kills them.
    How do I keep going?
    I can't just ignore what's happened. I can't turn a blind eye and hope that it'll get easier to see the car crash on the other side of the road.
    I think back to when I thought history was for idiots. Why did I need to know about revolutions, and about wars, and conquests?
    Because we can't let history repeat itself.
    I take the watering can, sprinkling the water on the yarrows Cade's mom and I planted. They brighten immediately, extending their leaves towards the water instead of the sun.
    Small, short, feeble steps tread behind me. I turn around and see Cade's dad. His hands are tucked into his pajama pants, his eye bags making his eyes look sunken and dim.
    He smiles, and I rush up, wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him. He stumbles back for a few seconds, before returning the hug and squeezing me lightly.
    "Ya killin' me, kid!" He laughs, smoothing his hand over my hair.
    "I'm so glad you're back," I whisper honestly.
    He reminds me of my dad. They both float around the world smiling, and nodding happily to everyone's wrongs and rights.
    "Why is my son wallowing on the couch? Never seen that bastard as upset as he is right now!" His eyes squint from a smile, and I can't help but look down at the ground, scared to spill to the news.
    "Ahh..." he shakes his head, chuckling. "Did he tell you? About Florida?"
    My eyes widen. "You knew?"
    "Kid, he's my son. The boy tells me everythin', of course I knew."
    "Why didn't you tell me anything? You knew all along?!" I'm not shouting, but my voice is definitely more desperate than it was before.
    Did his mom know? I've been smiling and giggling around Cade while his dad just watched, perched on his hospital bed.
    "Things float over, kid. I kissed another girl in front of Willow when I was younger." He stares at the yarrows, thoughtful as ever. "I was drunk out of my mind, and Willow was absolutely broken after I did it. We weren't together, or dating, but I can imagine how deep a knife like that cuts when you think there's more to your relationship than just friendship."
You have no idea.
    "We didn't talk for a year and half, until I snuck inside the school office and changed my entire schedule for it to match hers. I was desperate, and now we've been married for twenty-six years."
    I laugh, wistfully. A laugh that's not as full as it should be. "Do you think you deserved to be forgiven?"
    He sighs, lifting his eyes from the plants to me. "None of us deserve forgiveness. All of us earn it," he pauses, nudging my forearm. "Has he told you about English yet?"
    I raise my eyebrow. "No?"
    "What are the odds of your valedictorian failin' English all of a sudden?"
    The phrase repeats in my head a couple times before I finally realize what he means. Cade purposefully failed English to talk to me.
"Did he tell you about that too?!"
"Of course he did. I was goin' to beat his ass if he failed a class seriously. I did not raise Cade to be slackin' in school. He told me about how his teacher had been talkin' about some girl in her English class who was real smart, and how some students needed help and she wanted her to help out a bit. That kid got to work and started missin' his assignments, and although he's as blind as bat, he would've never gotten anything below a 90 without the proper motivation."
I laugh, hysterically. Cade's dad joins in, slapping his knee as we both think about the idiot sitting on the couch indoors.
Motivation.
I'm still angry, but my heart can't help but swell at the thought of Cade getting zeros on tests in order to stay after school with idiot Kaia Turner.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you!" I grab his shoulders, nodding towards Cade. "Cade is dyslexic. I took him to a reading specialist and I received an email with the results."
"Well, fuck me! My mom was dyslexic, dad had to read her books and labels when I was growin' up."
I helped Cade read The Bell Jar.
History repeats itself.