Chapter 5

Every time the bell goes, the pain of being betrayed rears its ugly head, with each bunch of gorgeous flowers more extravagant than the last, chocolates, jewelry, and even a stuffed bear holding a broken heart. Each one causing a flood of tears and a ravaged soul. It’s been hell trying to tell the couriers to take them back, that I don’t want any of them. Inflicting my sobbing, manic, blubbering, messed-up self on any delivery guy brave enough to give me any of Jake’s gestures. Flapping my hands to move them out of my sight. It’s all too much to bear, and now I’ve muted the intercom, so drivers assume no one is home.

I can’t fault him for trying to reach me. Not a day has passed that he hasn’t tried, but I’m not ready to face this or him just yet. My head is a mess; my body is a mess; my emotions are a mess. I feel like I’ve been cut loose and left adrift. I can’t focus on a single thing. I’ve never experienced this kind of torment. I thought being sent away by Jake to his dad’s company was the worst pain I would ever endure in my life, but this tops that. This is excruciating.

At night, I barely sleep and reach for him when I do. I dream of him, and each dream gives way to my old night terrors, waking me up in a panic and causing me to dive toward my headboard. I pull my covers to my chest, trying to fight off the shadows coming at me as I drag myself out of my mind, desperate to wake up fully.

Those nights are the worst, drenched in sweat and fear, gasping in terror as I slap at the shadows around me. I wake up, often hoping that it’s all been a dream and that I’m in his apartment again. Held captive by his limbs, and he’s right there beside me to make me feel safe, but every time, my body gives way to sobbing when I realize where I am.

I’ve cried so much that I’m unsure how my body still has any fluid left, but it seems I have a never-ending supply reserved just for him. Exhaustion is the only thing that helps numb the pain; my head is foggy with fatigue constantly.

***

“Emma?” Sarah’s worried voice hits me as I scrub the cooker for the fiftieth time, her arms flying around me as she sees me. I didn’t even hear her come in. I finally caved a few hours ago, in a phone call while she got ready to travel home, and told her why I was here, unable to talk through tears, but she finally understood.

“Oh, my God! I was frantic the whole flight, desperate to get back to you.” She croons, holding me tight, and I relax into her embrace. Holding myself together, telling myself not to fall apart. To not be the girl who crumbles when her friend asks how she is.

“I’m okay, Sarah… Better than I was the last couple of days.” a numbness has started to envelop me most of the time, making me able to cope with menial tasks and mindless routines in an almost zombie-like state.

I turn in her arms and spot Marcus scurrying away with cases to her room, a typical man avoiding female tears, a real charmer. Jake would have brushed them away for me and asked me to tell him all about it. He would’ve wiped the floor with the likes of Marcus and his evasive behavior to female tears.

I push down the thought and bite my lip.

I can’t keep torturing myself this way. Stop thinking about him.

“Is this it? Are you really walking away from what you had?” She gazes at me with an intense frown. “He made a mistake, Emma… He’s human.” Her revelation surprises me; it makes me stop what I’m doing and gape at her.

“On our call, you were all for me kicking him the balls, if I remember.” I point out in surprise. Complete disbelief etched on my face. In truth, I’m more than a little hurt.

“Yeah, but then I had time to simmer and think about everything, Ems… Jake loves you. I don’t think this is something he’d ever repeat.” She looks incredibly sincere at this very moment.

Why am I shocked? She’s just another version of my mother, letting a man hurt you and then crawling back to him again. She’s given Marcus so many chances in the past, and here he is again.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m beyond confused.” I admit, glancing down between us at the way she’s holding both of my hands tightly, a sudden urge to haul her into my arms and cry. I don’t miss the old me who never allowed this kind of touch between us. It’s comforting and so necessary to me right now.

“Emma, think about it. He could’ve done more than a kiss… He could’ve taken her back to her hotel and done the deed. As soon as he kissed her, he knew he’d fucked-up, right?” Her hopeful blue gaze bores into my face, and I try to ignore it.

I can’t deny that the Jake of old would have thought nothing of screwing some girl from a bar or even screwing Marissa if he was drunk enough. He’d done that already, the baby proof of that. I quash down the vile thoughts of his body entwined with hers, revulsion pushing up my throat at the traumatic visions going through my mind.

“So, you think I should just forget it… Brush it off as nothing?!” I snap, yanking my hands away. Of all people, I expected Sarah to be on my side.

But not this!

“No, of course, I don’t. He’s hurt you, Emma. But I think you can move past this and be with him again when you’re ready.” She sounds so young and pleading. I don’t want this version of Sarah. I want her jokes on what she would do to maim him in her unrelenting loyalty to me, dragging his name through the dirt, calling him all the cusswords she can think of. Instead, she’s championing him, making me feel anger that has lain dormant the past few days.

“It’s not just the kiss… It’s who he kissed!” I stamp, pulling myself away, heading to the couch, and slumping down. Trying hard to simmer the wave or irritation growing in my belly. “It was her… Marissa. The one person I hate more than anyone and the one person that can truly kill everything between us.” the tears sting my eyes at the mention of that bitch’s name, and I bite them back defiantly. Not while her name is on my lips, I wouldn’t dare.

That bitch will never get my tears.