Prestige, page 5
She absently dug her nails into her arms but stopped when she noticed.
Pulling out her phone, she unlocked it and saw a text from Marcus.
We need to talk. Head back now.
Yep. Candice definitely told him.
Bonnie groaned and put her head in her hands. She didn’t have time to think, or even breathe. The cracks were starting to show as the pressure built. And as it grew to bursting, a thought entered Bonnie’s head.
None of this would be happening at all if…
She huffed out a breath and tried to stop the thought before it fully developed, but it was already too late.
None of this would be happening if Artemis hadn’t gone and fucked it all up.
It was a bitter thought. Maybe even a nonsensical one. But all Bonnie knew was that she didn’t abandon plans or go into new ones lightly, and certainly not without much thought. And leaving Chicago at eighteen with Artemis was a thought that kept her up for many days and nights. Artemis made it seem possible. She made Bonnie believe.
Why? Why would she give Bonnie so much hope only to shatter it in one fell swoop? Why would she say they were forever only to abandon Bonnie with nothing but the thought of throwing herself in front of the next train instead of going back to a life in which she had no choice?
Why?
She wanted answers, and Artemis said she wanted to talk. But Bonnie couldn’t. Even if she heard a logical explanation, it wouldn’t change her fate as a forgetful housewife. And it most especially didn’t change her rage. She would never forgive Artemis for what she did. After spending a year depressed over that woman, the sadness inside of her molded her heart to its rotten form today. Instead of mourning what could have been, she focused on the bitterness that remained.
If she saw Artemis again, it would be only to unleash her fury. Nothing else.
And she could.
In the back of her mind held an image of Artemis sitting at their old spot every day at four on the dot, hoping Bonnie would walk through those doors and hear her out. From an outside perspective, that was romantic as shit, but all Bonnie saw was an opportunity to finally move on with her life without any questions left unanswered.
Besides, Bonnie wasn’t as cruel as Artemis. She would at least say goodbye before slamming the door shut on them forever.
six
With a chip on her shoulder, Bonnie walked into her once most sacred place.
She hadn’t been to Portillo’s in years. It still had the same jukebox that she and Artemis would hog and dedicate the most ridiculous songs to one another. It had the same pool table where Artemis taught Bonnie to play, though Bonnie never became any good at it, distracted whenever Artemis came behind her to “help with her form.” So many of those times, Bonnie had forgotten to breathe, and Artemis breathed for her, the smell of spearmint filling Bonnie’s nose to the brim. She could never celebrate when they sunk a shot together, too overwhelmed with the feeling of Artemis’s lips and breath against the shell of her ear.
Knowing those memories would smother her the second she entered was why she chose not to step inside the restaurant again.
She spotted Artemis right away at their table with her arms folded, the muscles in her back stiff as she waited. How often did she work out? She certainly came a long way from her younger, bony appearance. Now she filled out in all the right places, looking lean but also like she could lift one hundred pounds without breaking a sweat. And did she have to wear a button-up? Bonnie had never seen her in one before, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sight. Maybe she wore it on purpose, knowing how much Bonnie would like it.
Not that Bonnie did or anything…
The sound of her Jimmy Choo shoes clacking against the black and white tile caught Artemis’s attention. She looked up from the menu, her steely eyes catching on Bonnie’s long legs, traveling up to watch the sway of Bonnie’s hips in her cotton dress, pausing on the swell of Bonnie’s breasts, and finally reaching her face. Bonnie hadn’t realized she stopped breathing until her lungs burned for air.
She sat down across from Artemis, pulling the sleeves of her cardigan over her arms. Summer was currently at its peak in Chicago, but she needed something to cover her arms after digging her nails into them all morning.
There was an untouched cake shake in the middle of the table with one straw beside it.
“You showed up,” Artemis said when it was clear Bonnie wouldn’t speak first. “What changed your mind?”
“I’m not the one who needs to explain myself,” Bonnie said.
“True… but would you enlighten me anyway?” Artemis asked. A smile lifted at the corners of her mouth. She pushed the shake toward Bonnie. “It’s yours. I can order some food, too, if you want.”
“I don’t want anything from you,” Bonnie said in a clipped voice. Artemis nodded and didn’t say anything else. She was waiting for Bonnie to answer her question. Bonnie released a long breath. “You broke my heart, and I deserve to know why. And don’t give me any more nonsense about me being better off, or I swear to God I will leave.”
“Even if it’s the truth?” Artemis asked. Bonnie rose to her feet, but Artemis reached across the table and touched her hand. “Okay, I hear you. Please just… stay.”
Bonnie scoffed and pulled her hand away. She sat back down. “You have a lot of nerve asking me that.”
“I know,” Artemis said.
“You are such an asshole,” Bonnie said.
“I know.”
They stared at one another—eyes of a storm meeting earthy ones—and let a moment pass before jumping back into it.
“So what do you have to say for yourself, then?” Bonnie asked.
Artemis dropped her shoulders as she sighed. “I’m sorry,” she started. “I was stupid back then. As much as I thought I was old enough to make the right decisions, I made all the wrong ones instead. And I dragged you into it.”
Bonnie rolled her eyes. She didn’t even know why she was entertaining this in the first place. She was only there to say her piece. No amount of lame excuses would help Artemis’s case, or whatever she was trying to do by asking Bonnie to meet with her.
“I made my own decisions. You didn’t drag me into anything—at least not until the end. All you did was make me realize you were the wrong person to make decisions with.”
Artemis glanced down at the table and massaged her jaw as if trying to rub off the sting from that verbal slap. Bonnie straightened her spine and gave herself a mental pat on the back. She had a lot of zingers she thought up over the years.
“Okay,” was all Artemis could say after that.
“Is that all?” Bonnie asked. She didn’t need to say more, based on how Artemis looked like a kicked puppy. Her work was done. As she started to get up again, Artemis spoke.
“It never would have worked with us. I was too fucked up. And you…”
“What?” Bonnie dared her. “What about me?”
Artemis snapped her mouth shut and shook her head. “Nothing.”
“No, don’t do that. Whatever you have to say, say it.” If this would be the last conversation they ever had, Bonnie didn’t want to wonder about anything ever again.
Artemis rubbed her hand over her mouth and then dropped it.
“Let’s just call it what it was. You would’ve done anything if it meant defying your mother back then. I was just the person you needed to accomplish that.” Artemis looked away as she said it, and Bonnie was glad for that. She didn’t want Artemis to see how much those words hurt.
“You believe that?” Bonnie asked. “That I used you?”
“No. That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Artemis’s forehead crinkled as she searched desperately for words that would not offend. “I’m saying that it was a long shot anyway that you would’ve left with me. Most of the time it was hard for me to believe we were ever…” A shaky breath left her, and she didn’t attempt to finish that sentence.
“Real?” Bonnie finished for her. Artemis looked down and nodded. “So you’re saying after everything we’ve been through”—she tried to keep the shakiness out of her voice—“after all the things we told each other—what we shared… You’re telling me you don’t believe any of that was real?”
“I’m not sure—”
“Look at me,” Bonnie said. Artemis instantly met her unflinching, questioning gaze. And from the way she looked at her, Bonnie saw the highlights of their past flashing in Artemis’s eyes on a loop. Laughter, tears, late nights, and first times. All those moments that led to some unrealistic plot where they would be together forever, everyone else be damned. Bonnie saw those moments too. Clear as day, like they’d never left her in the first place.
“It was real,” Artemis confirmed.
Bonnie relaxed. No matter how she felt about Artemis now, she knew she could never look her ex-lover in the eyes and deny them. It mended a small, insignificant piece of her molded heart to at least know that Artemis couldn’t either.
“I tried to visit you in prison once,” Bonnie said. “You turned me away.” She remembered that day vividly. After complying with the police probe, she went against everything the lawyers and Vivica instructed and attempted to see Artemis, who had officially been sentenced to ten years in prison. Distraught, Bonnie pleaded with the officers, and when they finally relented, they came back and told her point blank that Artemis did not want her there. For a long time after that, Bonnie wondered if she’d ever truly been wanted at all.
“I couldn’t see you. And I didn’t want you to see me that way. But also,” she paused, and Bonnie saw how much she was forcing herself to go on, abiding by Bonnie’s wishes not to mince her words, “that happened after your mom found me first.”
“What?” Bonnie asked, her stomach dropping.
“We spoke briefly. Probably not even more than five minutes. And she did most of the talking.”
“What did she say?” Bonnie dug her nails into her arms.
Artemis shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. She only wanted the best for you.”
“I’m so fucking tired of other people deciding what’s best for me!” Bonnie snapped. “This is my life. Whatever choices I make, be they mistakes or not, are up for me to make. No one else.”
Artemis raised her brow. “And here I was thinking they turned you into a robot. It’s nice to see you’re as sharp-minded as ever.”
“Yeah, well… screw you for thinking otherwise.”
Artemis chuckled, and for the first time in weeks, Bonnie smiled. She grabbed the untouched shake, stabbed the straw into it, and took a long sip. Artemis grinned goofily.
“Don’t think a cake shake means I forgive you,” Bonnie said.
“Never. I know it’s going to take a lot more than that to get back in your good graces.”
The minute Artemis said it, they both froze. Bonnie wanted to think that had been a mistake on Artemis’s part. As far as they both were concerned, this was a one-time occurrence only.
Clearing her throat, Bonnie wiped away some leftover cake shake from her mouth, ignoring the way Artemis eyed the gesture.
“As clarifying as this has been, it needs to end here,” Bonnie said.
Artemis nodded. “I understand. But—”
“No. No ‘buts.’ This can’t go any further,” Bonnie said. She couldn’t allow Artemis to finish that sentence. As molded as her heart was now, she still didn’t trust it to not latch onto Artemis’s words or even the slightest inclination of hope in her voice. She closed her eyes before saying the next three words. “I’m getting married.”
“I know,” Artemis said. “I don’t want to come between you and him. I just… I’d like to know more about you—what you’ve been up to. It’s been so long, and now that I’m here with you…” She glanced away briefly. When she raised her head again, her steely gaze held resolution, “I don’t know if I can stay away.”
Bonnie’s eyes narrowed. She pushed the shake away and got up.
“I have to go,” she said hurriedly. Grabbing her bag, she fled from the scene. She would mow down anyone in her path if they didn’t move for her. Artemis called out her name, and Bonnie shook her head. She got to her car and opened the driver’s side, but then Artemis reached out and slammed the door shut.
“Dammit, Bonnie! Would you just wait a second?”
Bonnie whirled around. “How could you say that?”
“Say what?” Artemis had the nerve to look confused.
Bonnie gave her an incredulous look. “You can’t stay away from me? Are you fucking serious?”
“It’s the truth.” Artemis stepped forward. Bonnie shoved her away.
“You had me!” Bonnie yelled. “I was yours until I suddenly wasn’t! And you had all this time to come and see me, but you didn’t. But I’m just supposed to believe you when you say it this time?”
“I’m a different person now,” Artemis said. “I can prove it.”
“Bullshit!” Bonnie fumbled with her keys and dropped them on the ground. Cursing, she bent to pick them up. She gasped when Artemis’s hands covered hers. Looking up, she expected their gazes to clash against one another like a tide to a boulder. But Artemis wasn’t looking at Bonnie’s face. She was looking down at Bonnie’s arms, brows furrowed. Bonnie looked down as well. The sleeves of her cardigan slipped above her elbows, revealing crescent moons from her nails covering her forearms.
Horrified, Bonnie ripped herself out of Artemis’s hands and got into her car without another word. Her mind spun like crazy as she started the car and pulled off a second later. Briefly, she looked into her side mirror and saw Artemis standing there as still as a statue, watching Bonnie pull away from her forever.
It was an abrupt ending to their closure, and Bonnie wondered if things were better left unsaid after all.
In the first week of August, Bonnie got more serious about the wedding planning. She called florists and scrolled through Instagram and Pinterest for wedding inspiration. She didn’t think of Artemis at all.
After a long night of reading bridal magazines, she slept in until almost ten in the morning. When she went downstairs for breakfast, she found Marcus on the phone, his tone pleasant and formal. Bonnie ignored the conversation in favor of smearing cream cheese on both halves of her bagel. Then she poured herself a glass of orange juice from the pitcher.
“Sounds good,” Marcus said to the person on the other end of the phone. “I’ll have Bonnie reach out to you soon.” Bonnie looked up at the sound of her name, but Marcus wasn’t looking at her. “Okay, thanks. Bye.”
“Who was that?” Bonnie asked, lifting her glass to her lips. Marcus came over and took half of the bagel off her plate.
“Mina from that catering company we visited a few weeks ago. I went ahead and hired her for our wedding.”
The glass slipped from Bonnie’s hand and onto the table, spilling the remaining orange juice on top of it.
“Bonnie, what the hell?” Marcus said.
Bonnie grabbed a nearby towel and wiped the counter down.
“I thought we were going to decide together on these things,” Bonnie said.
“With the guest list expanded, I realized Hotel Baker would be too small for us. Stan Mansion is nicer, and if we use Minako’s Catering, we’ll get a discount. It’s a win-win.”
“Wait a second,” Bonnie said, unable to keep up. “When were you planning on telling me we changed the wedding venue? And what if I wanted another catering company we looked at?”
“What’s your problem? You said you loved the food when we were there,” Marcus said.
“Nothing. I just think there were better options.”
“Which ones?” Marcus asked, his gaze challenging. When Bonnie failed to remember the names of the other places, he went on. “Either way, it’s too late. I already put down a deposit on Stan Mansion. It will be fine.” He finished Bonnie’s bagel and walked off.
Once he was out of range, Bonnie sat down at the kitchen table and shook her head in denial. If this was real, that meant she and Artemis would see each other again. They would have to spend the next two months in the same proximity as Bonnie planned her wedding to a man she knew she didn’t love.
What could go wrong?
seven
Artemis kept her gun in a box behind a loose brick on the wall beside the fireplace in her apartment. She only took it out to clean it every few months, but then it went right back into its hiding spot.
If ever caught with it, she’d go back to jail with the snap of the judge’s fingers. It was a risk worth taking, though.
“Anything new?” she asked, talking lowly into her burner phone despite being alone in her apartment.
“Nada,” said Natalia, her informant. “My father’s guys on the inside haven’t heard anything about Kenny sending more people for you, so you should be safe for now.”
“Yeah… for now.”
“I can’t guarantee it, though. The longer you stay in Chicago—”
“I know,” Artemis said. She combed her fingers through her hair. “I’m working on it.”
“I could offer you more protection, you know?” Natalia said. “I can talk to my father—”
“No.” Artemis shook her head vehemently, though Natalia couldn’t see it. “I’m done with all of that. Besides, does he even know his mob princess is protecting someone like me?”
“You might be a snitch, but you also make a lovely pawn,” Natalia said, her accent turning thick. “What my father doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
