When We Were Still Human by Vaughn Foster (mobi reader android TXT) 📗

looked down, seemingly jarred from thought himself.

Avia grinned. “You’re right. I will go wi—” Her ringtone blared from somewhere inside.

“Hang on,” she yelled over her shoulder as she ran back into the apartment.

“Make sure to bring your phone out when you’re done!” He pushed himself onto the railing and swung his feet. “I want that confession on tape!”

Ignoring him, Avia plunged her hands into the couch cushions until her fingers landed on the phone. She glanced at the screen and didn’t recognize the number, but pressed Accept anyway. “Hello?”

“Hey, sweetie,” a woman’s voice answered. There was a sickening familiarity to it.

Avia’s breath caught in her throat. “This is the fourth call in two weeks.” Annoyance threatened to tip to a torrent of rage, but she kept it in check. “What do you want?”

“We, ah, we just wanted to check in and see how you were doing.” A man’s voice this time. “You hung up the last time before we could really—”

“The only reason you have this number is because the landlord needed to bill you for that window.”

Her mother coughed and cleared her throat. “He- he says you’ve been drinking a lot, Avia—I’m sorry, that’s not why we called.”

Avia sneered. “Do we need to talk about why I drink, Madre? I don’t think anyone wants to go down that road.”

“Listen,” her father pleaded. “We just want to have a relationship with our daughter. Is that so wro—”

“Shut up.” She paced to the kitchen then back, angrily crushing a beer can underfoot.  “You don’t get to decide whether you can have a relationship with me or not. You gave that up years ago.”

“Avia,” he implored. “You’re our daughter, and we love you! I know what we did was unforgivable but there must be something. It’s been six years! Your mother has been inconsolable since you left! She’s given you the car and the condo, and who do you think has covered all the damages from your drunken escapades? What else do you want us to do?!”

“You think six years is enough to erase what you guys did? What he did!” She smashed her fist into the granite as her face flushed with burning coals.

Her mother spoke. “Honey, that’s not what your father meant, it’s just—”

“It’s been taken care of.” Avia’s voice chilled to ice. “If I give his daughter cello lessons for the next year, the damages will be waived. You don’t need to stress over my ‘drunken escapades’ anymore. “

“Avi—”

“Call me in another six years. And another, and another, then keep going and when you are as dead as I am, then we can talk about reconciliation, and family chats, and that forgiveness you’re so desperate to earn.”

“Avia—”

“You’re pathetic,” she growled, face morphing into a cold scowl. “Don’t bother calling again. This number will be changed within the hour.”

“Sweetheart, please—”

Avia threw her phone across the room and swiped all the counter’s contents to the floor.

“Oh my god! What the actual hell? Carajo! Hijo de puta! That fucking perra! Mierda! ‘Mamá, nunca vuelvas a llamar aquí!’ ‘Ok, cariño.’ Qué hace ella? Calls! I cannot fucking believe this, puta madre cono!”

A panic attack was already in the works; her breath shortened and her heart thundered inside her chest. She lowered herself to the floor and hugged her knees to her chest.

Avia tried to control her breathing by whispering the lyrics of “Va, Pensiero” in its original Italian as she exhaled. She sang faster and louder, squeezing her eyes closed as she rocked, but no matter how loudly she sang, she couldn’t stop the memories.

“Come on, you know you want to,” Julian purred. Warm breath against her neck sent a chill as arms snaked around her waist.

“I’m not in the mood, Julian.” She turned around and firmly placed his arms at his sides.

“Come on,” he said, embracing her again.

“Julian, seriously. Not. Now.” She moved to get away from him, but his grip tightened. His hands wandered downwards as he placed his mouth against her ear.

“You know you want this,” he whispered. His hands trailed their way from the inside of her thighs to cup her breasts.

“You’re so warm,” he said again, clutching her against him. “And I’m so cold. Please, just once more.”

 

“Avia!”

Avia gasped for air. She was still crouched against her kitchen counter, but there was a pressure around her— something warm. Cheshire was knelt beside her, holding her shaking body against his own. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head in his chest.

“Ches,” she attempted to speak, choking on tears.

He rubbed her back and gently pulled her tighter. “It’s okay, Avi. It’s okay.”

She didn’t know how long they stayed like that. Minutes? Hours? Crying was something she never did. It was a mark of shame and weakness— two things she couldn’t afford if she hoped to one day be happy.

When she had calmed down, Avia leaned back and nodded that he was okay to let go. Giving him a small smile, she stood, walked to the refrigerator, and opened the door.

Cheap beer. Leftover spaghetti. Milk. Apple juice.

With a huff of frustration, she crossed the room, grabbed her wallet, then disappeared down the hall. When she returned, she wore white jeans, a black leather jacket and was holding a pair of pumps.

“I’m going out,” she muttered, sitting down to fasten the shoes.

“What?” He stared back in confusion until his face shifted to understanding, then something unreadable. It only lasted a moment, because a second later, he was standing to his feet and cracking his back. “I suppose I could suffer turning up for a few hours.”

Avia’s hand went to her pocket, and she realized that she didn’t have her phone. She groaned before immediately turning to scavenge the apartment. Cheshire tried