Fated Hearts (Echoes of Darkness Prequel)

3

Ava

A drop of sweat falls directly into my eye as the guy I picked up at the bar earlier grunts like a rutting pig on top of me. Eww . He calls out for his mother as he comes, and then his sweaty body gives out, crushing me under the weight.

Great. Another weirdo with mommy issues.

I didn’t think it was possible, but he lasted even less than the last guy. I wonder why people like sex so much. Since losing my virginity at sixteen and two other unfortunate sexual experiences after that, I hadn’t had sex again until this past month. Why bother when men only care about themselves and their pleasure? Most of them wouldn’t know what a clit is if it hit them in the face. But since I was given only a few months to live, I decided to give sex another try. In the last month, I’ve had sex with seven guys. Spoiler alert: none of them made me come.

“Can you move? You’re crushing me,” I mutter as I push at his heavy body. I have enough trouble breathing on my own, thank you very much. I don’t need to be reminded of how bad of a job my weak heart is doing at pumping blood to my lungs.

He finally takes his weight off me as he slides out of me and slumps to the side. “You came too, right?” he asks smugly as he fluffs his pillow and rests his back on it. He weaves his hands behind his head and throws me a megawatt smile with perfectly straight, pearly white teeth. He is really good-looking. I have to give him that. A bit too preppy if you ask me, but he has that old money charm with his perfectly coiffed blond hair and blue eyes. Well, I learned my lesson. Being good-looking doesn’t necessarily mean a guy is good in bed. I swear I’m ready to write off sex for good this time.

“No, I didn’t come, Brad.” I mean, the fact that I wasn’t making any sounds, lying like a stiff board beneath him, should have been an indicator that I didn’t enjoy what he was doing all that much.

His eyebrows shoot up. “But I touched your clit like you asked me to. And my name’s not Brad. It’s William the Third.”

Huh, I could have sworn his name is Brad .

A laugh bubbles out of me before I can stifle it. “Sorry, William. You kind of look like a Brad. Anyway, you should maybe study the female anatomy more because that surely wasn’t my clit.” He kept stabbing at my labia with his finger like he wanted to make a shish kebab out of it. I did try to move it and redirect him, but he told me he knew where the clit is because he was a man. Honestly, I should have pushed him off me in that moment, but I kept hoping it would get better.

The vein on the side of his forehead looks like it’s going to pop any minute now. “I’m sure that’s where the clit is. My mother showed me,” he snaps.

WHOA! This is definitely not something I was expecting to hear from a guy I just had sex with. I clear my throat, trying to recuperate from my shock. Why do I pick up all the weirdos? I’m blaming tequila for this one. “A piece of advice, Willy boy, maybe keep that to yourself the next time you decide to have sex. That is something you should unpack in therapy,” I mumble the last part to myself.

Hell, I think I’ll need therapy after this.

I shudder and push up from the bed. Mierda. The dizziness hits me badly this time, and little white dots swim in my vision. It’s getting worse and worse with each day that passes. I blink a few times and grip the bed frame, waiting for the universe to stop twirling.

“I’m going to take a shower, and I don’t expect to find you here when I’m done. Please don’t leave the condom on the floor; toss it in the trash can on your way out,” I say as I put on my robe and amble toward the bathroom.

“What? Wait! We can go again.”

I snort a very unladylike laugh as I stop in my tracks and turn around to face him. “Yeah, no, thank you. I think I had enough for tonight.”

His nostrils flare as he gets up from the bed, kicking my bedside table. Luckily, he didn’t do any damage, but he does look at me like he wishes it was me he kicked instead. So he has anger issues on top of mommy issues.

I really know how to pick them…

“You’re a fat bitch,” he grumbles, then throws the condom to the hardwood floor and starts getting dressed. “I only fuck models. You should consider yourself lucky that I chose to pity fuck you.”

I arch an unimpressed eyebrow. “Oh, Willy boy, it’s funny how you think anyone would want to fuck you with that micro penis . Don’t let the door hit you on your way out,” I fire back as I spin on my heel and stalk into the bathroom, locking the door, hoping he will leave without any more incidents because he’s starting to scare me.

Ugh, I can’t wait to wash his disgusting sweat off my body.

“ To finally finding a guy that knows how to fuck,” Chloe, my best friend, toasts as she clinks her shot glass with mine.

“Hopefully, I can find him before I croak,” I reply and throw my head back, downing the shot of tequila. It burns my insides as it travels to the bottom of my stomach. I bite into the lime wedge and shudder. The first shot is always the hardest to stomach, and this tequila is so strong I think I just grew a few hairs on my chest.

She throws me a dirty look that’s distorted because her face is all scrunched up from the awful taste. But her eyes are glassy, more from my words than from the burning spirit. “Fuck, Ava. Stop saying shit like that. You’re going to make me cry.” She takes the beer bottle from the floor and passes it to me.

I take a big swig, wipe at my mouth with the back of my hand, and give it back to her. “Well, I’m going to die, Chlo. There’s not much I can do about it.” Shrugging, I take the tiny hand-held mirror from my lap and resume doing my makeup.

We are both sitting cross-legged on the hardwood floor of my small bedroom, resting our backs on the bed frame. Simba, my orange tabby cat, is a tiny purring ball between us as we get ready for tonight. Chloe won VIP tickets to a rock concert of a famous band, Deadly Sins. We even have backstage access to meet the members.

“I don’t need a reminder every single time we see each other that you’re going to die,” she mutters and starts painting her nails a deep purple to match the top she is going to wear.

“I know you don’t like to talk about it, but it’s my reality, and eventually, you will have to come to terms with it.” I line my waterline with a black waterproof pencil and start applying eyeshadow. I’m doing a deep black smokey eye to bring out my pale seafoam- green irises. Hopefully, I won’t end up with panda eyes.

“I also wanted to talk to you about Simba. Will you take him after I die? Mom’s allergic, and I don’t want to give him back to the shelter.” The chances of older cats getting adopted are low, and he was already eight years old when I brought him home from the shelter two years ago. I can’t stand the fact that he might end up never being adopted again and spend his last years in a crate.

“Oh my God. You might get that heart transplant; you never know,” she exasperates, a muscle feathering in her taut jaw.

“Please, Chlo—”

“Fine. I’ll take him. You know I love this little monster.” She uses her baby voice as she pets Simba’s head carefully to not ruin her freshly painted nails. “Who’s the best boy in the whole world? You wanna come live with Auntie Chloe, you sweet orange angel?”

He lets out a cute little meow and turns belly up so he can receive more pets. It’s a trap; the little shit is going to bite her the minute she touches his belly.

I throw my arms around her neck, her peach scent enveloping me. Simba lets out a disgruntled meow when he ends up squished between us. “Thanks. It means the world to me.” I pull back when my phone starts vibrating on the floor.

Taking a deep breath, I mentally prepare myself before I tap my finger on the screen to accept my mother’s call.

“Are you insane, Ava?!” her bellowing scream almost makes me deaf in my right ear. Chloe cringes and throws me a knowing look when I put my mother on speaker so I can still have an intact eardrum at the end of this conversation.

“How could you go skydiving with your heart condition? You have become so reckless. Ya no te reconozco. You were such a good girl before.” She starts crying, her favorite form of manipulation.

She probably traced my phone again. She is dating a cop, and every time she catches the stalker itch, he traces my phone so she can find out where I am or what I have been up to at all times. I tried talking to him on several occasions, but he is too infatuated with my mother and always dismisses me because he thinks she only wants to know if I’m safe. Well, I think it’s a deep violation of my privacy. I even threatened to file an official complaint if he tracks my phone again. I guess he doesn’t care.

“It was on my list. It’s something that I wanted to do before I die,” I say when she finally stops sobbing.

“ Tu tía Paula called me and told me you froze your school year. Are you trying to get me killed? I might die of a heart attack before you if you don’t stop ruining your life.”

Wow, that’s a low blow, even for her. I cut her off before she starts the hour-long rant I know is coming. “I never wanted to go to law school. That was your dream, not mine,” I clip out.

“This nonsense stops now. I already called the school and made the arrangements for you to go back.”

I push to my feet so fast I almost get whiplash, managing to scare Simba in the process. He hides under the bed as I exit the bedroom and start pacing the small apartment. The red-hot anger makes my blood thicken in my veins so much that my weak heart starts sputtering in my chest. My breath turns ragged, and I can barely speak at this point.

“I’m not going back to school, Mamá . You keep pushing me to do things I never wanted. I am tired of living the perfect life you chose for me. I have only a few months left to live. You need to accept that reality once and for all.” I stab at the screen furiously to end the call and plop down on the cream-colored loveseat, pressing my hand over my heaving chest. Fuck. No one gets on my nerves like my mother.

“You okay?” Chloe asks as she passes me a glass of water, a deep frown marring her forehead. I didn’t even notice she followed me out of the bedroom. A glint of worry shines in her dark eyes as she looks at the hand clutching my chest.

I nod and take a sip. C’mon, Ava, take a few deep breaths; you don’t need another trip to the hospital. Blinking and exhaling loudly, I look at my best friend. “Yeah, thanks. I just…Fuck. I know she is like this because of my deadbeat of a father running away when I was just a baby, but I can’t excuse her behavior anymore. The way she wants to control my life is beyond crazy. I should have seen it before. I don’t know how I could let it go on for so many years.”

She sits beside me and holds my hand, waiting for me to calm down completely. Chloe is very well acquainted with my mother’s special brand of craziness.

“C’mon,” I say, standing up when I finally get my heart and breathing under control. “Let’s finish getting ready. I’m not going to let my mother ruin our night.” I pull on her hand and stride back into the bedroom with determination.

I am tired of my mother suffocating me. She dragged me to see so many doctors this past month, and every single one gave the same verdict. I understand why she can’t accept what awaits me, but I’ve come to terms with the fact my time is limited. I was furious at first, sure. Who wouldn’t be? But I am doing my best to move past it and live my life to the fullest until I can’t anymore.