Chapter 6

"Would you please both shut the hell up!" I yelled in my family room. Sasha was over for the day and both Justin and her had promised to be on their best behavior for me -- or tried to anyway, before WWXXVIII broke out between them.

My only happiness is that some unspoken agreement between the two of them was not to argue about the baby. Looking back though, I don’t know why I was so worried; they can find anything to argue about. And they did. I wasn’t even sure what the topic was because I tuned them out as I looked over some swabs Sash had for me to check out for redecorating the studio. But when the voices got too loud I’d had enough.

"She started this shit. I was just saying—"

"Oh, nobody gives a good goddamn what you were saying—"

"Oww!" I yelled and held my head with both hands "Shit! Now I have a fucking headache because you wouldn’t stop screaming. Thanks a lot, guys."

Justin was immediately on his feet, apologetic. "Are you okay? You want some Tylenol? Hang on baby, I’ll---" But Sash was already on her feet to get it for me which pissed him off even further. "Girl, you know you heard me when I said I would get it," he grumbled, but she ignored him and came back with a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol, which I helped myself to.

Those two were driving me nuts. Justin was on a mission to get her to divulge her feelings about JC to him. Fat chance, right? But he kept dropping hints and making all kinds of outspoken remarks and she wouldn’t tell him anything so he kept at it more and more. I felt bad for him because once Sash put something in the vault, it stayed there.

"Why the fuck are you all up in my shit? Don’t you have more ass kissing to do? Tara, I think you should make him kiss some more ass," she smirked and fumed at her.

"Enough, y’all, I mean it. I’m trying to make the headache go away so I can concentrate, alright?" I interrupted. Sasha and I were going over ideas for the dance studio, an idea that Justin didn’t like one bit. When I told him about it the first think he said was "When was I gonna spend time with [him]?" of course. But I was determined to not make him my world as much as before. I’d visit him a lot, probably be on his tour a lot too, but I needed interests of my own.

Anyway. They finally shut up and Justin went back to reading some self-help book he picked up. I loved when he read. He would get really relaxed and have this intent look of concentration on his face, licking or biting his lips occasionally. In a strange way it reminded me of how he looked when we made love. But I digress. He was reading and Sash and I finished our work so we started flipping through the latest magazines.

I’m a magazine addict. I subscribe to about ten and buy tabloids and anything else that catches my eye, too. I don’t always get the tabloids but it just so happened that week that something looked interesting in the Enquirer so I tossed it in the cart. Sasha was going through that when she sort of froze. She didn’t do it in an obvious way but I felt her tense up and so I looked to see what was wrong with her. She was staring at the paper, looking pissed. Right away I figured that JC was in there with Bobbee or something, or maybe they'd dissed Ricky Martin so I leaned over to look.

Then I went still, too.

Because right there on the page was my boyfriend drunk off his ass and completely wrapped a barely dressed Britney Spears at her birthday party. I mean totally wrapped around her like he does with me. That was our thing, where he would bend over and put his head on my shoulder and wrap his arms around my waist, and I couldn’t believe he played me in front of all of America like that.

First I wanted to cry, and then I just got pissed. Furious pissed where you’re all still and quiet. Sasha asked in a quiet voice, "Did you know about this? Please tell me you didn’t know about this and that’s why you still have his ass up in your crib. Please."

I shook my head and glanced over at Justin who was oblivious to the entire world. Fucker. "He told me he went, that the whole group went. That’s it. He didn’t mention the lover’s embrace or the lingerie he got her," I added as I read the blurb that went along with the photo.

We sat there for a few minutes, both of us staring at the picture and breathing hard. I knew Sasha wanted to go over and twist his balls – literally – but I needed to do this myself. "Sasha?"

"Hmm?"

"Maybe you should go for a bit. I think Justin and I need to talk," I said in a louder voice so he would hear. It worked because he looked up from the book, trying to look innocent as a baby.

"We do?" he asked, confused. Neither of us bothered to answer him.

Sasha started gathering her things and I helped. "Call me later tonight, girl, okay? And I’ll see what I can find out … you stupid motherfucker," she sang as she started out of room.

Justin was still bewildered. "What’d I do? I’m just sitting here, reading this book! Tara, what the fuck?"

I threw the magazine at his head and kept cleaning up while he flipped through the pages, trying to see what got me so pissed. It took his slow ass forever; he kept whining and asking for help while I ignored him. He was still looking when I went into the kitchen and began putting some leftover dishes from our dinner in the dishwasher. After a few minutes he came shuffling in, looking pitiful but obstinate. He’s the only person I know that can do both of those looks at the same time.

"T, this is completely not what it looks like, I swear," he tried to grab my hand but I pulled away.

"No? Because it looks really funny to me, Justin. It looks really weird to see your boyfriend, the man who professes his love for you constantly and his annoyance with his ex-girlfriend to be in some tight embrace with her at a glitzy party where photographers were. That doesn’t seem weird to you? I bet it would if the shoe was on the other foot!" I clanged the last of the dishes I was loading into the washer, slammed it shut and turned to face him. "So tell me what it was, then, so I’ll know next time."

"We all got at the party at the same time, the whole group and they took pictures of all of us hugging her, I don’t know why they picked mine to run. It’s not my fault, baby! Everyone else hugged her and I had to and that’s all it was. A hug. I have more intimate contact with my fans, for fucking crying out loud. Shit, now you got me using your phrases. Baby, nothing happened. It was all for fucking show and you know what they make us do."

When I continued to ignore him he said, "Baby, I had to fucking record "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" because of the record company and management, okay? We’re all fucking puppets and sometimes we just gotta do that shit. I don’t like it but that’s the way it is. I have to do things I don’t like and that’s just … how it always is."

That wasn’t enough for me. "So you had to wrap yourself around her like you’re a fucking anaconda? What was that about? Explain that that to me and maybe I’ll see your side of things but somehow I don’t think so." Crossing my arms, I waited to see what he’d come up with this time.

Looking uncomfortable, he shrugged. "I was drunk, Tara." Tara, not T. Always a tip off sign that something wasn’t kosher. "I fell onto her if I remember right and she was holding me up. I wasn’t hugging her like I hold you, baby. I don’t hold anybody like that."

Part of me inside melted at those words but I still wasn’t sure. Too much water had passed underneath the Britney Spears Bridge for me to give up so easily. "Do you swear? Do you swear to me nothing else happened at that party? Did you kiss her or anything? Even if it’s gonna upset me just get it over with and tell me, okay, to make it easier for yourself because if you lie to me…" I let the words trail off so that they sounded ominous

He sighed tiredly, leaning against the counter. "No … I didn’t kiss her or anything at the party," he told me, looking at me directly in the eye. "I didn’t do anything. T, I’m so tired of this drama—"

"Don’t blame me for this shit," I began, only to be cut off by him.

"I’m not blaming you for anything," he rubbed his forehead like he had a headache and I wanted to tell him that he wasn’t the only one. "I’m just want us to get past everybody else and everything else and be happy, baby. I’m sick of hearing her fucking name, I’m sick of hearing Dave’s fucking name. Can’t we just get back to being us?"

His expression was so open and honest, his words so heartfelt that I almost forgot what we were arguing about in the first place. "That’s what I want too, Justin, but it seems like everytime I turn around I see something about you and her again—"

"But you know those are lies! They have me on some fucking beach somewhere with her when you know damn well the two of us were together, like, on that very same date!"

I sighed now, rubbing my own forehead. "I know, I know … it just makes everything so hard to hear rumors like that. This is all new to me and I don’t know how to take it, you know? In a normal world, if you hear rumors like this about your boyfriend … you break up with them or something … I’m just not used to any of this even after all of these months. This is really hard," I could feel the lump in my throat growing larger and tears started to well up in my eyes, which was the last thing I wanted. I wanted to be strong, not some whiny little brat but I was so confused over everything that had to do with being with him.

Sometimes it even made me wonder if it was worth it, but then he would do something like pull me close to him and hold me tight, murmuring sweet things to me to reassure me of his love for me. That’s exactly what he did at that moment and somehow when my face settled into the curve of his neck and his arms wound around me, somehow I knew then that all the shit that went along with being his girlfriend was worth it.

"So you love me, Justin?" I asked, truly acting like a big baby. I was feeling insecure and needed him to make me feel more secure in my position with him. "Do you really love me, after the whole baby thing and everything?"

He squeezed me tighter, then pulled back to look me in the face. "T, I love you so much … I love you more than I ever even thought I could love somebody … it scares me sometimes, how attached I am to you now. When we weren’t talking or whatever I was flipping the fuck out wondering if I was ever gonna see you again. I told Momma that I was—"

"Momma? You told Lynn?" I wailed, not able to believe he told his mom about the baby. How could I ever look at her in the face again? "Justin, now I can never be around her again, you know that, right? And I’m not being dramatic, either; I couldn't look her in the eye knowing that she knows. Justin, that was private. You told Chris, Dani, Sasha, JC … but did you have to tell your mom, too?"

He rubbed my back, trying to make me feel better. "I guess maybe that wasn’t what most people would do but … she was the only person I had that I knew wouldn’t tell anyone." He paused for a long moment. "She was the only person I could cry to, T. You have Jen and Sasha and Aurora but I can’t let people seeing me bawling like a fucking baby. If I couldn’t have you, I had to turn to her," he told me.

"You cried?" I asked, surprised although I shouldn’t have been – Justin’s probably more sensitive than I am.

"Every night," his voice was muffled from where it was buried in my hair. "Cried myself to sleep after I drank myself until I was sick."

Aww. Now I was comforting him, hugging him and rubbing his back. "You did that because of me?" No matter how much he told me, I was always a teeny tiny bit unsure about how strong his feelings were for me.

He pulled away again even further this time. "Tara. I love you. Why won’t you get that through your head? You’re the only person I want to be with … anyone else would be just a substitute."

I pulled him back to me and kissed him softly. Those words were exactly what I wanted and needed to hear. "I love you, too," I told him as we stood there embracing each other in my kitchen surrounded by dirty dishes and oblivious to it all. All that mattered was me and him and the fact that we were back together.

But I was so naïve. If only I’d asked him the questions about Britney differently. I always gave him just enough leeway, just enough room to answer me and not lie. Sure, he didn’t do anything at the party – it was after the party that he betrayed me.

And it wasn’t the only time, either.