Say You Love Me : An Enemies to Lovers Romance

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Say You Love Me : An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 23

by Sarah J. Brooks


  His message had been curt and to the point. He concluded it by saying we would talk in the new year about “steps forward”—whatever that meant. There was no Happy Holidays. No kindest regards. It was cold and distant. It was clear I had ruined more than one relationship with this whole crap fest.

  Rob, on the other hand, checked in every few days. I could tell he was concerned in his bland, Rob Jenkins way. He mentioned he was traveling to upstate New York to stay with family for Christmas but that he’d stop by when he got back.

  Go see your mom or your friends. Don’t sit around your apartment feeling sorry for yourself, he wrote.

  He didn’t know what he was talking about. I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself.

  I was too drunk to feel much of anything.

  I had maintained a blissful state of inebriation since the night of the party. If I found my mind drifting too much in the direction of Marlena and our baby, I would promptly crack open a beer and drink its contents as quickly as possible.

  Okay, so it wasn’t the most mature response to the situation at hand, but my emotional wheelhouse was limited, and I was tired of trying to think my way out of the bullshit I found myself in.

  Of course, intoxication often leaned itself to morose musings and hours spent staring at old text messages Lena had sent me over the last few months. God, I was ridiculous.

  I seesawed between telling myself to call her and berating my immature decisions. Of course, a gorgeous, smart, capable woman like Marlena wouldn’t want to be tied to me in any way. I was her mistake. Her blip on the radar.

  Even if we had that one magical weekend together where it seemed we were headed somewhere, it was all a grand delusion. We weren’t suited for each other. I could never be the family man she wanted.

  What could I possibly offer her and our child except for misery and heartache? I couldn’t even commit enough to decorate my fucking apartment. What made me, or anyone else, think I could commit to playing daddy?

  Sure, I could point to my terrible upbringing as an excuse, but that only carried me so far. At some point, I had to take responsibility for my inability to be healthy and stable support to the people I loved. I had been using my father as a reason to not get close to anyone, but that was a load of shit. It all boiled down to the fact that I was afraid. I was scared to death that I’d fail, and failure was my biggest phobia. So instead of dealing with the giant cesspool I had made of my life, I decided to hide away in my apartment like a hermit.

  I was sitting on my couch, drinking my seventh beer of the day, barely watching a crappy made for TV Christmas movie on my laptop, just in case I wasn’t feeling bad enough about myself when the doorbell rang.

  Maybe it was Marlena.

  Maybe she was here to forgive me.

  I eagerly went to the door. I stopped before opening it, taking the time to smooth my hair and shirt.

  “Hey…” my voice drifted off when I saw who waited for me on the other side.

  “Nice to see you too, baby,” Greta Hayes sing-songed, gliding into the hallway wearing a sunny smile and not much else.

  My once long-term hook up looked gorgeous with her long blonde hair styled and falling over her shoulders. Her winter coat was unzipped to reveal a bustier that pushed her magnificent tits practically up to her chin. She wore a short, frilly schoolgirl skirt with garters holding up sheer stockings. Greta had come dressed to fuck.

  She leaned against me, going up on her tiptoes so she could reach my mouth. “Long time, no see,” she murmured, trying to press her bright red lips against mine. I turned my face to the side so that her mouth landed on my jaw. She backed up with a frown. “Not exactly the reception I expected. Particularly with me dressed like this.”

  She took off her coat and flung it on the back of a chair. She put a hand on her hip and pouted. “I’m not wearing underwear, Jeremy.”

  “Yeah, now’s not a good time, Greta.” I turned and walked back to the living room, hoping she’d see her own way out. I had always liked Greta. She was the closest thing to a girlfriend I had ever had—before Marlena. She worked as a nurse in the pediatric unit and I met her at a bar one night after her shift. What had started as a hot one-night stand turned into a more or less consistent hookup. She came over when she was horny and vice versa. But I hadn’t spoken to her in some time. Not since she met a nice guy named Josh and she was determined to give monogamy a try. I had wished her luck and that had been the end of it. No hard feelings. Then Lena and I started sleeping together, and I completely forgot about the woman who used to warm my bed.

  I remembered she messaged me that morning after I had been with Marlena the first time, but I had never replied. I thought nothing of the fact that I hadn’t heard from her since.

  Greta followed me and stood in the doorway of my living room, dressed like every man’s wet dream, and I didn’t even feel a stirring in my shorts. She wasn’t the woman I wanted.

  “I can see that,” Greta remarked, giving me a once over. “You smell like you’ve been hanging out with the local winos all weekend. Have you showered today?” She wrinkled her nose.

  I sat back down on the couch and grabbed my beer. “Yeah, well it’s not like I have anything else to do.”

  Greta looked around my messy apartment. I wasn’t quite a neat freak, but I usually kept things tidy. I hadn’t bothered to clean up after myself in almost a week. Empty pizza boxes were piled on the table in the corner; beer bottles cluttered every surface, and the unmistakable scent of sweat and depression were rank in the air. “Jesus, Jer, this place reeks.”

  “There’s a candle over there. Light it or something.” I waved a hand toward the mantle. “What are you doing here anyway? Why aren’t you with Josh?”

  Greta’s face sobered instantly. “We broke up,” she told me.

  I took another drink of my warm beer. “Ah, so you came over here for a rebound fuck.”

  Greta fidgeted, pulling on the hem of her short skirt. “I figured you’d be up for it. You’ve never let me down before,” she giggled with a shrug.

  “Well as you can see, I’m not much up to anything at the moment. And given how much I’ve had to drink today I doubt I’d get it up anyway. Even though you look pretty hot in that get-up. Was I supposed to be a schoolteacher and you the naughty girl?” I laughed, but it sounded forced and sad.

  Greta sat down beside me on the couch. “You look like you could use a little distraction. Let Greta take care of you.” She slid the straps of her bustier down over her shoulders to expose her breasts.

  At one time I would have had my mouth all over them. Back when I didn’t have the heart to break.

  “Come on, baby. Touch me,” she cooed, picking up my hands and placing them on her boobs. She pressed herself into me, her skin soft beneath my palms. “You’ve always made me feel so good. Let me do the same for you.” She started kissing my neck, straddling my lap. I could feel her hot and warm against me.

  Maybe I could forget. For one night, I could stop thinking about her…

  I closed my eyes and tried to be in the moment. I made my lips move, but when Greta’s tongue entered my mouth, I recoiled. Lena’s face swam through my mind and I couldn’t do it. I’d never been able to be with anyone else.

  I didn’t want to be.

  “Stop it. I can’t.” I lifted her off me and set her down on the couch.

  Greta sat beside me, perfectly still. She slowly slid the straps of her top back up over her shoulders. “Is it me?” she asked in a small voice and I felt like even more of a dick.

  “No. It has nothing to do with you, Greta. You’re great. You always have been.” I tried to smile again and again failed miserably, so I gave up.

  “You met someone,” Greta deduced, her voice shaking slightly.

  I sighed. “Yes. I met someone.” My eyes started to burn. Jesus, I was losing my shit. “But she hates me. God, does she hate me.” I covered my face with my hands, not wanting to cry, but not able to stop myself. I was e
motionally spent, and Greta happened to have a first-row seat to my breakdown.

  I felt Greta’s hand on the back of my head, her fingers gently massaging me, not in a sexual way, but in a way that meant she was listening and supporting me. And damn, I needed that. I felt alone. So, fucking alone. I felt a torrent of emotion flood out of me. I didn’t think I was capable of it. I had been holding so much inside for so long, it was like the lowering of a dam.

  “Tell me what’s going on, Jeremy. I’ve got nowhere to be but here,” she said softly.

  I lifted my head, let out a shuddering breath and unloaded every glorious, awful moment of the past few months with Marlena. I told her how I had been drawn to Lena since the very beginning, but Adam made it clear that we were not to be together. That he didn’t trust me not to hurt his beloved baby sister. How we almost got together when she worked for us as a paralegal, but once again Adam nixed that before it started.

  I went on about how Adam suggested we hire Marlena as an associate and I had agreed, even after all the previous bullshit, because now I recognized that I had needed to be around her. That I desired her in a way that went beyond the physical. Even then, I knew she’d change my life.

  I told Greta how after trying to pretend we didn’t want each other, we gave in. Denying there were any feelings involved, that it was only sex. But we couldn’t get enough of each other. Then how she started pulling away from me. How much it hurt. How much I wanted to be with her.

  How much I loved her.

  “She’s pregnant, Greta. With my baby,” I concluded when I was at the end of the long, complicated saga. “That’s why she had been keeping her distance. She’s carrying my child. I’m going to be a dad.”

  “Wow,” was all she said, taking in everything I had unloaded.

  “Wow is right,” I agreed, sagging back against the couch.

  “So, she’s decided to keep it then?” Greta asked, after taking everything in. She was being surprisingly cool about it all. She hadn’t interrupted. She let me ramble on about the love of my life and how I had screwed everything up.

  Her question brought me up short.

  “I don’t know actually. I have no idea.” Fuck, I was going to lose it again. I wasn’t acting even remotely like how Greta was used to seeing me. I was the fun, life of the party guy always up for a drink and a fuck. I never took things too seriously—except for my job. Up until Lena, my job was the most important thing in my life.

  Up until Lena...

  Greta put her hands on my shoulders, squeezing me. “I’ve never seen you like this. I mean ever. Are you sure you haven’t been kidnapped by aliens?” She gave me a small smile. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that you love this woman. It makes me sort of hate her.”

  I chuckled, but the laughter died off into nothing. “I do love her. But does that even matter? She clearly doesn’t want to be with me.”

  “What did you say when she told you she was pregnant?” Greta asked.

  I didn’t answer. I was ashamed of how I had reacted. I didn’t want to explain to Greta—or anyone—how much of an ass I had been.

  “I’ll take by your silence that you didn’t react well,” Greta said.

  “I probably could have been less of a dick, yeah,” I admitted gruffly.

  “Look, she’s going through a lot. More than you can even understand. She tells you that she’s carrying your kid. You freak out or give a classic guy response and she pushes you away. Of course, she did, Jeremy. She’s protecting herself. She’s vulnerable and scared and probably freaking out herself. Stop wallowing and stand up and be the man I know you are,” Greta scolded.

  It was more than a little strange taking serious advice from a woman not wearing any underwear and whose boobs were falling out of her top, but she was right. She took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Tell me what you want, Jer.”

  “I want Marlena,” I said without hesitation. It was the easiest answer I could give. “But I also want more than that.” I took a steadying breath and closed my eyes. “When I think about my future, I see her in it. I see our child. I see our family.” When I opened my eyes, it was to find Greta staring at me with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Greta, I don’t mean to be callous—”

  “Shut up,” she shushed me. “I only hope I find someone one day who feels the same about me.” She wiped at her eyes. “Okay. I’m getting out of here now so you can ride on over to this woman’s house and start the rest of your life together.”

  Greta got to her feet and I followed her to the front door. “What if she doesn’t want me? What if she tells me to get lost?”

  I didn’t know what I’d do if she turned me away. But I did know I’d never walk away from her. Or our kid. That I’d be there in a way my dad never was. I made that silent promise to myself.

  Greta cupped my cheek. “She won’t. Not if she has any sense.” She kissed my cheek. “Good luck, Jer. I hope it all works out.”

  After Greta left, I knew what I had to do. I had to go to Lena. But not in two-day-old sweatpants. I shaved and showered, then changed into clean clothes. I started to rehearse what I was going to say. I went over it and over it in my mind, imagining all the ways it could go.

  I was amping myself up to leave and go make this right when my phone rang. Thinking it was Marlena, I picked it up. But it wasn’t.

  It was the last person I expected to hear from.

  It was my mother.

  I had only spoken to her a couple of days ago. She had asked if I was coming up for the holidays. She asked every year and every year I gave her the same answer; as long as that man lived there, I would never step foot in that house. I knew it broke my mom’s heart, but it was better I didn’t breathe the same air as the piece of shit I shared DNA with.

  I had promised to call Mom on Christmas, so to see her calling so soon after our last conversation was unusual.

  “Hey, Mom, I’m just walking out the door—”

  “He’s gone,” Mom interrupted, her voice wavering.

  I had to swallow my frustrated sigh. Of course, she was calling about my dad leaving again. What else was new? “Give it a few days, you know he’ll be back—”

  She cut me off again. “You don’t understand. He’s left for good this time. Actually, I kicked him out. He took his stuff. I dropped off the rest at Goodwill.”

  Her words stopped me in my tracks. “You kicked Dad out?” I asked incredulously. “Why?”

  “Because I was tired of being treated like garbage. I’ve been seeing a counselor,” she revealed, shocking the hell out of me.

  “You have? Since when?” I sat down on the couch, hardly able to believe what I was hearing. Why hadn’t she told me this when we spoke a few days ago?

  “Wanda, next door, recommended this woman to me. She works over at the women’s shelter. She’s been wonderful. I’ve had to be careful your dad didn’t know I was meeting with her. But she’s been helping me realize that what your dad has been doing to me over the years isn’t right. What he’s done to both of us.” Her words shook but there was a strength I hadn’t heard in years.

  “Mom, that’s wonderful,” I said slowly, not sure if this would stick. I’d seen firsthand the toxic rollercoaster that was my parent’s marriage.

  “I’m so sorry, Jeremy. I’m so sorry I wasn’t the mother you needed me to be. That I let him treat you as badly as he treated me. I can work through all the ways he’s hurt me, but I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for standing by and allowing him to hurt you.” Her strength wavered, and the tears started.

  “Mom, it’s okay—”

  “No, it’s not!” she stated firmly. “It most certainly is not okay. A parent’s job in life is to take care of their child. I failed you, my baby boy. I failed at the one job that mattered.”

  I was struck speechless. I never thought I’d hear my mother speak like this. It was both a relief and gut-wrenching. I hated hearing the self-recrimination in her voice. I loved her too much
to stand how she berated herself. She had dealt with enough of that from my father.

  “I’ve had to look long and hard at myself in the mirror and I’m not happy with what I see. Making your father leave was only the first step. Repairing our relationship is next. And it’s the most important. Will you let me fix this?” Her voice trembled and I felt the little boy inside me reach out for her.

  “I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy, Mom,” I told her.

  “I know,” she sniffed. “You’ve always been the best and brightest light in my life. The fact that I almost allowed that light to be snuffed out tears me apart.” Her sobs tore at my heart.

  “Don’t cry, Mom. Please,” I said softly. “I turned out okay, don’t blame yourself for things you can’t change.”

  “How can I not blame myself when I wasn’t there when you needed me?” she asked.

  I didn’t have an answer for that. There was too much baggage between us to deny what she was saying. I had a lot of bitterness and regret when it came to my mother, but for the first time, I felt the darkness inside me that I always associated with my family, lighten a bit.

  “Can you come home, Jer? I want to be strong enough to make this stick. I don’t want to let him come back here. I’ve had enough. I’ve lost so much time with you…” Her words tapered off and I could hear her crying harder this time. “I need my boy.” Her voice was ragged, but with determination I had never heard from her before.

  What could I say to that? This was a turning point for my mother. She needed me.

  And I needed to make this part of my past right before I could think about my future.

  “Of course, Mom. I’ll be there in an hour.”

  “Will you stay for Christmas? We haven’t had a Christmas together since you left home.” She sounded so hopeful.

  “We’ll make it the best Christmas ever,” I promised her.

  “Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you so much.”

  I hung up with my mother and packed a bag.

  But before I left, I messaged Lena.

  Don’t shut me out. We need to talk.

  I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t respond. And I definitely didn’t blame her.

 

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