Save My Tears

By Laikyn Meng

This heart-wrenching story of forbidden love will keep readers captivated until the very end.

Morgan isn't expecting the return of her childhood best friend, the same one she fell in love with before they vanished at sixteen. Bringing back

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Orange 9 Publishing Company LLC
• Release date: Aug 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088235638

Book preview

Prologue

M a’am, put your hands up and get down on the ground. The officer shoves my shoulder, and I fall forward.

The side of my face catches as I smash against the concrete, and the officer is kind enough to yank me back, scratching up my right cheek like it was shredding cheese instead of flesh.

A man in uniform asks questions, and I nod, clenching my jaw as I feel the blood drip down my jaw.

Looking over my shoulder, I see Bailen sitting on the bench crying with her hands on her face. All my problems start and end with this one woman.

I left her, I finally did it, and it was just my luck to trust her again, just my bad luck, and here we are again. I am the one paying the price for her betrayal. I thought I knew better. I thought I was braver. But life doesn’t like to teach me lessons; it enjoys beating my ass. Then, while I’m knocked down, it whispers in my ear to stop whimpering like a little bitch.

Get up and fight back. It loves to laugh in my face so harsh I feel the wetness of spit graze my forehead like I’m a stupid child.

Bloody knuckles, bruised lips, you can’t see those scars reality has personally specialized for me, but they are there ready to be ripped open with a dash of salt each time. God might be a man, but karma is a woman, and trust me when I say her wrath is far more sinister than an angel sitting in the clouds.

My head starts to shake as I hear my brother’s voice yelling for his wife, shouting over to the officers who won’t let him near me. Makoto was my best friend. Until we let a woman get between us. Until loving her corrupted who I was meant to be.

"Morgan! Jesus, fuck, what happened? Morgan! Don’t worry; I’ll be right behind you." Makoto is a good man, the greatest one I have ever known. But he can’t save us anymore.

I’m done playing innocent.

So, I lift my head, letting my brother see my face. His eyes go wide, and I give him one nod.

I should have never come back. And with those last words, I duck my head to get in the back of the police car. I promise myself I will never come back.

I’ve been in love with my brother’s wife since we shared our first kiss at sixteen. It’s the only kiss I reveal to people if they ever ask. Because it's the real one I can’t ever truly admit.

I can’t even begin to think of the first woman who corrupted me, making me a lost cause for love. My arms are aching, and tension grows up my neck from my tied wrists. I hate that this is where I am and who I am.

I know what you are thinking: How could I take his wife’s virginity? How could I welcome her into my bed on the night of their wedding? How could I steal everything he loves about her and keep it for myself? Even when she has never once desperately loved me, I’ve loved her.

How could I continue loving someone for years, hoping for just a small fraction of affection? I wasn’t blind about it or ignored it; it wasn’t some Stockholm situation either.

I can’t explain it; I think sharing a story you won’t ever forget is better.

The first time she betrayed me, we were teenagers hanging out, waiting to get off work. She had just moved to town, and it was refreshing that she didn’t avoid the same breathing arena as everyone else. Like some, my gay would infect them.

We can play into all the stereotypes. But I’d rather pretend the world is fucking good, and I am the goddamn creator of my own reality. So when she didn’t immediately run from me, I wondered how far I could push her until she stood on the opposite line with the rest of them.

I could have sworn she was something ethereal. The false hope of first loves always feels like that, I suppose. She was blunt and razor-sharp; I was ready to bleed all over the stage for her. Then my twin brother walked in, pulled her under his arm, and kissed her cheek, claiming her right in front of me.

The jealousy simmered, but I didn’t show it.

Do ya’ll know each other? I gulp down, but I already know I’ve lost. My brother quirks one eyebrow at me like I’ve lost my mind. I shake my head before he can answer.

"Do ya’ll know each other?" Makoto leans his head to the side to try and figure out why I’m sweating now.

Bitch. I glare at him to drop it.

Bro. He mimics back.

Forget you. I spin on my heels and head to the bathroom; I don’t even look at her one more time because she isn’t mine; she was never mine, and she will never be mine.

The brutal truth is as exhausting as it is.

Sorry about her; she’s going through shit at home. My brother likes to cover my tracks for my attitude. His isn’t any better, but I think he could fool people into forgiving him easier than I ever can.

No problem, we were just talking. I didn’t know you two were related. Bailen sounds surprised, and I know how hard it hurts when she makes a choice we can never go back in time to fix.

Yeah, Morgan doesn’t like bragging about her hot twin brother. Come on, babe, don’t worry about her. She’ll cool off. Makoto pulls her away, and when I look back, she stares at me as they walk in the opposite direction.

Okay, I wasn’t worried; she’s just a friend. I can see the words pain her as they do me. But I ignore it. I don’t pretend like she can. So I nod and turn around, away from every feeling and flutter she gave me.

1

S hh! I whisper so loudly it’s a goddamn yell, but I don’t know how to control the giggles as we enter the basement door, trying to avoid our parents.

I can’t hear when you use quiet words! Makoto matches my pitch and hits those lovely high notes from three years of chorus when he was trying to pick up chicks.

Mom will be pissed when she finds out you threw up in her cherry bush, Makoto. So why don’t you shut the fuck—. My eyes go wide as every possible light in the world turns on in our basement.

It must be the aliens, and I have a few seconds of relief. Finally, I am being taken away from Earth.

Up? It’s the woman who runs this house. Her voice is not a gentle reminder.

Aliens? Anytime you want to beam me up, please, for the love of God, get me the fuck out of here.

I stand there stiffly; Makoto sways for a few seconds.

Hey, you look familiar. My idiot twin points at our mom and then faces plants on the edge of the couch, his body bouncing to the ground.

I stare at him, he stares at me, and when the world stops spinning for him, he yells touchdown. Makoto passes out and leaves me with the mistress to handle our punishment.

My eyes slowly go back up to hers, and I try to bring a smile back to my face, but it seems my face has forgotten how to be happy or show any emotion other than fear.

It’s what you think. I raise my hands to surrender before I start hiccupping excuses.

I’m not stupid, Morgan. I can obviously tell you two are drunk. She puts her hands on her hips, and I see a fistful of female condoms.

Um, what are those? I am pointing; I might be shaking at this point. Here is a new level of embarrassment I didn’t need.

Have you used these before, Morgan? Still in Superwoman pose, she’s doing her best.

Why are you saying my name like that? I squint at her, feeling some irritation there.

Could it be from being a lesbian? Being the troubled child or the bad influence on my brother?

It’s all of the above, tenfold.

Saying your name which way? This is how I always say your name, Morgan. She elongates it in a way I don’t believe it is supposed to be used.

There it is again, like an itch that doesn’t want to be scratched because if you do, a scab will uncover a hive of suppressed reactions.

Fine, whatever. I smack Makoto’s feet out of the way and lay on the couch, putting my arm over my eyes.

Are. These. Yours? Remy smacks my forehead with the condoms again, and I don’t even have the energy to shudder.

Obviously? Do you see any other lesbians living under this roof? Unless you are coming out to me, then by all means, don’t worry; I’m an ally. I sit up, annoyed, because we are about to battle about my condoms when I can’t get anyone pregnant. But Makoto’s stash wasn’t confiscated when he and Bailen dropped a box on the porch for our little brothers to find.

Double standards, indeed.

That’s not funny! Knuckles meet hips; I swear she needs handles to hold them on her utility belt.

Being a lesbian or having condoms? Be specific now, Remy! I wouldn’t want to go and get confused about what is appropriate and what isn’t. Having the condoms is okay, though, right? Safety first. Just as long as I don’t become scissor sisters with the MILF’s next door? I stand up, rise four inches above her, and she doesn’t give a damn if I rank mountaintops over her. She is not intimidated.

The slap isn’t a wound; it is a warning.

I—I. Her steps stumble back, and I wonder if I am the monster she thinks I am. Her eyes are watering as she shakes out her hand as it vibrates abuse.

What’s going on down here? Dad walks through the basement, and his eyes go first to me and then to his wife. Are you okay, babe? The question isn’t for me.

I bite my cheek, letting the sting spread rosy over the bone. My head tilts away from him, hoping we don’t have a confronting conversation about why my pretend mother doesn’t love me as much as her sons.

No one says a word because Remy knows I hold the power, and my faults don’t compare to hers tonight.

Someone better tell me what the fuck is going on, or are you and Makoto ready to live on your own? Dad is glaring; he doesn’t like secrets. He doesn’t know how to keep them.

I look at my brother, and I know my dad would never kick him out, but I take this home for granted; it’s the only one I’ve got.

Makoto and I came home drunk. Mom was going through my stuff and found the female condoms the public health building gave me when I got my yearly physical done. I lift my head and wait for him to respond.

My fingers are shaking, but I squeeze them together to stop them. The heart in my chest is picking up speed, catching up with the mental fraction of believing I am unloved or unlovable.

What happened to your cheek, Morgan? It’s so soft and safe; I know I can trust it.

I drop my shoulders, relaxing at the sound of my name being accepted, being protected.

But I can’t tell him because a man like him, who loves as deeply as he does, doesn’t want to know. So, I shake my head and hang my head, looking at the black smears on my white sneakers.

Your cheek, Morgan? It’s one step to reach me; he lifts my chin to see the brimming tears I would never dare blink in front of him.

I count to ten, and he waits, so patient I think I might ruin my rebellious attitude. When I bite my tongue and take my face out of his hold, I stare at my mother. She held my gaze for the next ten seconds before returning to his.

Dad doesn’t ask questions or look at her; he merely turns his head an inch to check the floor behind him.

Go on to bed, Remy. I’ll be up in a minute. But his words say otherwise. She doesn’t know the difference most of the time. But I do pay attention to the tone of voice. I listen to every underlying thing that can never be genuinely said because it wouldn’t be appropriate.

The most significant rebellion I want to pursue is not abiding by appropriation.

I’ll get you some ice and aloe vera for your cheek. He waits, wanting me to break down so he can open his big arms and cradle me into his body. He wants to be my savior, but my tormentor is the love of his life. I’ll bring ice cream and chocolate cake too.

What’s that for? Because once a smart ass, always a sassy mouth.

For the feelings that got hurt. My dad heads for the stairs, and I am thankful for the space.

She didn’t hurt my feelings. I go on my tippy toes to call out.

I know, but she hurt mine. He is shaking his head, and I hear the authenticity of the sound.

We are his by blood; we are hers merely by force.

Nice shiner, what did I miss? Makoto giggles as he pulls himself up to sit beside me on the couch.

But I can’t speak right now, so I lean on his shoulder as he turns on the TV. Sometimes I envy my brother. I wouldn’t say his life is easy, but it does seem more effortless.

But that is why we are Kimura’s and not Yokohama’s. Yokohama’s run away, and we have to stay. One day, without any names holding me back, I would love to leave and never come back.

You’re my best friend, Morgie Porgie. I love you. Makoto wraps an arm around me, and I am shocked at how annoying he is.

It gets worse by the minute.

Fuck off.

Hey! You can’t be mean to be, or I’ll tell Dad! The douchebag sticks out his tongue.

Do it again, and I will get Dad’s katana and slice your slimy saliva stick in two. I squirm to get away, but he doesn’t give up.

"Don’t you mean nihonto?" His Japanese gets better, but it’s sad that he becomes dumber.

Wow, good job on your pronunciation, Makoto. Armfuls of food are placed before us, and I take every opportunity to eat instead of discussing our feelings.

Thanks, Dad. Awe, and look how easily his confidence is rebuilt.

Suck up, I whisper with a smile.

Brownie points. It gets off the hook with everything. I use it as leverage to buy our freedom. My brother is a genius.

I raise my hand and high-five him.

Excellent plan.

Guys, I’m right here and can hear you. Dad takes a bowl of ice cream and loads it with whipped cream. I guess the strict bodybuilder diet isn’t on the menu tonight.

We flip our heads over to him at the same time.

Hi, Daddy. Makoto screeches.

Don’t say that it’s weird. But Dad laughs anyway. Here, Morgan, for your cheek. He reaches and grabs a bag of edamame.

I don’t want to grab it; somehow, it will admit defeat. Makoto reaches over, holds it for me, and places it painfully against my hot face.

Thanks, Makoto. Letting him hold it there while I bite my brownie sundae.

Who do I need to beat up? It’s a sweet, innocent chuckle, and I forget he still has some to save him.

I take the bag from his hands and put it down. I watch the movie play silently, but with subtitles, because my father adores them.

No one, I mumble, hoping he will drop it.

No, seriously? I don’t remember us getting into any scuffles before coming home. Makoto pulls down my hat over my eyes.

We are so alike in so many ways; obsessing about an answer after asking a question is the one we can never let die.

Let it go, Makoto. The tone is low and dark.

Morg, was it Bailen? Is she starting shit with you again? Fuck, I am so over her petty bullshit! Why the hell is she always causing drama between us? Makoto is avenging, where I am every degree of vengeful.

His hands are patting all his pockets, searching for his cell phone. Trying to figure out how to unlock his phone after he changed the pattern because Bailen kept snooping through his life like she owned it.

I’m not ready to deal with that conversation at the moment.

One tragic twist at a time.

If you want to see your world erupt, fuck your brother’s girlfriend.

It was a mom! It was Remy! Because if he dials that phone, Bailen is not strong enough to deny anything, and I will be blamed for everything I know I have done terribly wrong and deserve.

My hands are up like I forced her to do it. I don’t even know why, but it’s a reflex I learned trying not to be in trouble.

Morgan, that shit isn’t funny. Don’t say fucked up things like that. Makoto isn’t looking at me as he whispers those words cautiously, wondering if Dad has overheard.

But it isn’t me who breaks Makoto’s heart; Dad only confirms it.

Makoto is quiet for a few minutes. Flicking his eyes back and forth and then nowhere.

But she wouldn’t. It’s a hopeful promise begging on his lips. I can’t see my brother hurt for me or, worse, have pity in his eyes.

I wait for him to ask what I did to deserve it. I wait for him to say it because I expect it.

How could you let this happen to her? Makoto isn’t asking; he expects an answer. The same way our father commands information from evidence.

Now, hold on, Makoto. The recliner squeaks as dad lifts off his weight.

I sink back into the sofa, hoping to erase the last few hours.

No, not this time, old man. There’s an evil chuckle at the back of my brother’s throat, one I taught him, and he uses it well. This is your fault.

It won’t happen again. Dad’s mission is to calm down Makoto because volcanos build before they blow.

God, do you honestly believe that shit? It’s not the most intelligent reply; I side with Makoto on this one.

It’s happened before. Wow, maybe a few therapy sessions might be good right about now, preferably with a licensed counselor.

What did you say? I remember Makoto’s growth spurt hit before mine; I was so mad. But now I look up at the brother I shared a womb with and decades of life together, and I don’t want him to be infected with any of my pain.

Nothing, it doesn’t matter. I shove my hands in my hoodie pocket; avoidance is vital.

You tell me, or she does. It’s so low the threat makes me rise to his challenge.

The problem with our loyalty is we have none for anyone else except each other. We can mess around and curse one another out, but we will always die on the same hill, proving the other right.

I blink so fast that I think I might create tsunamis.

I was eight years old, and mom washed my mouth with soap because I told her I was gay. She told me I didn’t even know what it meant. I called her a bitch; strike one.

Thirteen years old, my best friend and I are planning out future and how we will travel the world and get out of this town. Mom calls me inside and asks what we are talking about. I told her Saj, and I decided to run away and see the world together. She laughs, saying it’s nonsense. My dreams begin to crack. I tell mom, I love Saj. Mom gets serious and says I can’t because both of us will grow up and marry men one day. I say, ‘mom, why would I do that if I know it wouldn’t make me happy?’ How do you know it won’t make you happy, she responded. My reply was candid, ‘I watch you every day, and you’re not happy; you’re just busy. So, I would rather be a lesbian and alone the rest of my life than be you.’ Strike two.

Somehow, the word gay, queer, and lesbian, is triggering to her