Billy looked around the crowded lobby of the Genoa City Athletic Club. He'd come here with a purpose - a singular mission in mind. The anger and pain inside him were so strong that there was no room for rational thought, no space for the good memories or feelings of love he'd once had. It was all red, hot rage matched only by the pain and humiliation that volleyed for dominance.
The vacant stools at the bar seemed kismet given the number of patrons already milling about. A quick gesture of his hand towards the familiar bartender and his drink of choice appeared in front of him. Almost as quickly, it was gone. The sting of liquor did little to numb the pain. He stared down at the empty space in front of him, waiting for another drink to magically appear. A quick puff of air escaped his lips as he pondered the irony of it all. This type of pain, betrayal, and anger was something that normally led him down a dark path, a path of destruction, a path he'd taken far too many times - until her. Phyllis understood him. She accepted him. She knew what it was to have the best of intentions coupled with the worst of coping strategies. And now she'd led him to this. It was her betrayal that had brought him here, her lies that had shaken his faith in everything.
"Thank you," he muttered as the next drink arrived.
"You really want to be drinking alone?"
His shoulders tensed as he heard the whispery voice behind him. "Trust me," he said blankly, "You don't want to be here right now. I'm not up for a conversation.."
Summer slid onto the stool beside him, her body sliding closer than was necessary as she studied his face. "Who says I'm looking for conversation," she grinned. Her hand touched his shoulder as she leaned in ever closer. "Listen, I know you're upset and you don't have to talk to me about it.. I don't need to know all the sordid details, but I think I can help."
Billy took another long drink from the glass, finishing the second drink almost as quickly as the first. "You can't," he answered. "This can't be fixed."
"Come on, Billy," she purred. "Everything can be fixed and if it can't, maybe that means it shouldn't have been in the first place." She paused as she took in the agony etched in the lines of his face. "I hope maybe all this has finally shown you that you and my mom are …"
"I don't want to talk about your mother," he snapped.
Summer leaned back a bit as she tried to stop the smile from spreading across her face. "That's definitely not a problem. She'll just bring everything down anyway. You're better off on your own, living your own life, being the person you want to be, free from all the stupid rules and …"
"Summer," he said again, his tone slightly more edgy now. "I'm really not in the mood to get into this right now. I don't want to talk about your mom or me or our relationship. I don't want to talk at all."
His body stilled as he watched her hand slide across the top of the bar, the warmth of her skin warming him as her fingertips finally locked within his.
"We don't have to talk," she said softly. "Why don't we just go upstairs and have some drinks and just relax. It's better than sitting down here and being fodder for all the gossip, isn't it?"
"Let them talk if they want. What do I care?"
"You shouldn't have to suffer for what my mom did. You shouldn't have to watch people whisper behind their menus as they look at you that way."
His eyes met hers for a moment before. "What why?"
"Pity," she answered. "Like they're sorry for you. Like they feel bad that you were taken in by my mother - like so many other men have been. Honestly Billy, you're just the next in a long line. My mom was never right for you. She was never going to make you happy and at least you figured that out before you got in any deeper."
He stood up quickly, her words sending a surge of rage through him.
"Come on." Her hand gripped his arm as she stood beside him and gently pulled him towards the stairs.
"Sharon!" Nick struggled to peer into the small windows on either side of the door as he once again made a fist and pounded onto the hardwood. "Please, just let me in. I just want to talk to you. I know you're angry and-"
His words stopped short as the door finally swung open.
"Mariah," he breathed, surprised to see her face looking back at him. "I need to talk to Sharon and I know she probably doesn't want to talk to me right now, but if you could please just ask her to give me five minutes and then if she wants me to leave, I swear I …"
"Nick." Mariah held up her hand to stop him. She was no stranger to mistakes. In her young life, she'd already made plenty of them. The things she'd done could have easily driven her family to write her off completely, but they hadn't. They'd given her a chance even when she wasn't sure she wanted one. "Sharon isn't here," she said.
"You don't have to lie for her," Nick said, as he pushed past her into the living room. "Believe me, I know I'm probably the last person you want to help right now and believe me, I get that, but I really just need to talk to her. I know she's angry and she has every right to be, but I want her to understand that I didn't keep this from her because I was trying to manipulate her or make a fool of her. It wasn't because it meant anything. It was exactly the opposite. I knew it was a mistake. I knew it meant nothing and I didn't want to hurt her, so I …"
"I don't need to hear this. I don't need to hear any of this," Mariah countered, "And neither does Faith. She's upstairs. She's crushed and I really don't want her coming downstairs and finding you here or overhearing you going through all this with me, so if you would please just go."
"As soon as I talk to Sharon," he said firmly.
"I told you, Sharon isn't here."
Nick narrowed his eyes as he studied the young girl's face. "Do you know where she is?"
She shook her head. "I don't. She was here for a few minutes. I took Faith upstairs to help her get changed and when I got back down here, she was gone. She was a wreck and I'm sure you can imagine she wasn't exactly in the best frame of mind."
He hung his head as he tried not to let his mind wander to the worst possible places. Sharon had been through enough in her life. She had struggled to pull everything back together so many times and now, when she'd finally found her footing, when they'd finally found their way back to each other again, he'd gone and blown everything to pieces.
"I know I messed up, Mariah," he whispered, "but I love her. I never wanted to hurt her. You know that, right?"
"Love doesn't make you perfect," Mariah said quietly, "but I don't think it should be like this. You might not have wanted to hurt her, but you did and that's something that you're going to have to deal with."
He felt the jacket slide down his arms as Summer lithe hands gently folded it over the back of the small sofa. "There," she breathed, "that's better. Get everybody a little more comfortable." Her hands kneaded the still tight muscles of his shoulders as she looked down to the glass he held in his hand, the amber liquid still almost at the level it had been when she'd poured it.
"Is your drink okay?" she asked. "I can get you something else, if you want."
He could hear her words, but they didn't compute. His mind was already filled with too many words, too many sounds, too many feelings. He could hear the muffled sob she'd tried to contain as he'd thrown her suitcase into the car he'd called to take her back to the church to retrieve her own. They'd driven to the church together, having no idea their entire world would come crashing down during the ceremony.
She'd followed him to the parking lot, where she'd pleaded with him to let her explain, to give her a chance. He'd refused, unable to even look into her eyes. Jack had offered him a ride back to the house and even he had seemed uncomfortable when she'd thrown open the car door and announced she was riding along. No doubt, she'd hoped the close confines would force him to hear her out, to talk, but he'd instead stared straight ahead and ignored her completely.
"Billy?" He heard her voice again and finally managed to turn and look at her, surprised to find her body so close to his. "I know that, if you just gave me a chance, I could make all of this disappear - at least for a little while." Her hands slid down his chest as she leaned over him, her face now moving close to his, her breath warm against his skin.
In the distance, he could hear the soft ringing and he leaned back, listening again. "Is that your phone?" he asked.
She shook her head, refusing to be deterred. "Leave it," she mumbled, "This is much much more important."
For a moment the noise ceased before, almost immediately, beginning again.
"Summer," Billy pulled away. "It might be important. You should probably get it."
She sighed, allowing her body to slide down his as she moved slowly to her feet. "Alright, but don't move." A small smile played upon her lips as she retrieved the phone and returned to the sofa beside him.
"Hello," she said curtly.
The seductive smile quickly faded and he watched as the face of a coquettish young woman quickly transformed into that of a frightened little girl.
"Okay," she said shakily, her eyes already wide and shiny with tears. "Yes, yes, I understand. I'll be there as quickly as I can. I will. Yes."
The phone nearly fell from her hand as she used the couch for support to stand to her feet once more.
"Summer," Billy said, her voice suddenly serious as he saw the look of abject horror on her face. "What's the matter? What is it?"
Her mouth was suddenly so dry it was difficult to speak and she moved to reach for her purse and keys before even considering an answer to the question. As she reached for the door handle, she turned to look at him, her mind spinning as she realized just how quickly things could change. "It's Mom," she said solemnly, "She's been in an accident. I have to go to the hospital. It's really bad."
"Phyllis?" For a moment, he felt as if his heart had surely stopped. The words he'd said to her, the last thing that had left his lips, "I want you out of my life." He swallowed hard as he quickly stood and joined her by the door. "Let me go with you," he managed.
She nodded silently as they walked wordlessly down the hall.
He stopped at the door as he waited for another couple to walk inside. Their happy smiling faces as sickening juxtaposition to the feelings he tried to process. His eyes glanced up towards the sky as he whispered quietly. "I didn't mean it," he said. "Please. I didn't mean it."