No! This was not happening!
I turned right around and flung the door open. Mark was standing directly in front of me with his hands braced on either side of the door. I jerked back, a bit startled, and then darted under one of his arms and raced for the living room, grabbing my dress off the floor in the process. Panties be damned.
Buck-ass naked, I found my purse and scrambled wildly for my phone. One quick emergency text to Laney and I was throwing my dress over my head, knowing that Mark wouldn’t just let me walk out—and I couldn’t have this conversation naked.
Seemingly in no hurry, Mark finally emerged from the bedroom in only a pair of boxer briefs. He folded his arms and leaned against the far wall while I tried to occupy my hands with tidying my dress and fussing with my purse.
He still didn’t speak.
I really didn’t want to do this.
Still no speaking.
Shit.
“How many times have I told you this is a bad idea?” I finally said, facing him with an entire room, an entire world, between us.
“I already agreed you can have our friends if things don’t work out for some unforeseeable reason. I don’t really even like Nate that much.”
He was making fucking jokes?
“This isn’t a joke, Mark.”
“I know it’s not. Do you know how many times in my life I’ve told a woman I have feelings for her? Once. You.” He maintained his calm and his pose.
“This will not end well.” My whole being begged him to just accept it.
“So you’ve said, but before this discussion circles around yet again, I just have to ask, did somebody hurt you? Did some guy treat you badly? Break your heart? Or worse?”
What? Where in the hell had that come from?
“What?! Why in the hell would you think that?”
His calm faded a bit. “Look at it from my perspective. You like me, you like spending time with me, you’re attracted to me, the sex is great, we have fun together.” He checked things off on his fingers. “There has to be a reason you don’t even want to try!”
“There is!” I knew he had a point and I also knew I would have to tell him everything.
“Then tell me so I can fix it.”
“Gah! That’s the exact opposite of what I want!”
“Then what do you want?” His hand scrubbed over his hair in clear frustration.
I was doing this to him.
“I want my life to be simple, manageable,” I started.
“Boring? Lonely?” he countered. He was hurt.
“Normal.”
“What’s more normal than having a boyfriend?”
“You don’t understand.” Jesus, I was a broken record.
“Then help me. For the love of God, Fiona, help me understand. What am I missing here?” He gesticulated with open hands.
“It can’t last, Mark.”
“Why? And I want the truth this time,” he demanded.
I stood my ground but I knew my eyes turned tender. “Because good things are taken away all the time. I may trust you, but I don’t trust a good thing and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”
“What was taken away from you? Tell me.” He pushed off of the wall and his voice was gentle again as he stepped toward me.
“My childhood, my future,” I whispered.
“What does that mean?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, wishing with all my might that I could just erase everything.
But I couldn’t. So, I let it all out.
“When I was nine, I was diagnosed with leukemia. We fought it for a long time using a lot of drugs that eventually got the leukemia but did other kinds of damage. I can’t have kids. I have a good chance of developing other cancers. My brain doesn’t work right. I am twenty-four years old and I have a cardiologist and a pulmonologist. My bones are weak. I constantly feel stupid and inadequate and I can’t even hold down a job answering phones and making coffee. I am going to be a burden on everyone who loves me and I can’t take on one more heart that will eventually break because of me.”
He had stopped in his tracks at the word “leukemia.”
“Shortcake. Fiona. W…what…why didn’t you tell me? Are you sick? I mean, are you sick now? Shit, have I been hurting you? I can’t believe I threw you around like that. And I made you lift weights!”
“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you,” I said, my voice choked with tears that were on their way.
“What do you mean?”
“The way you’re looking at me right now. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I wanted to be sexy, fun, silly Fiona—not damaged, sick, breakable Fiona. I’ve always been that.”
He closed the distance between us and grabbed my hands. “You’re not damaged! You’re beautiful and you are sexy and fun and absolutely nuts and I love that about you! But I can’t just ignore what you’re going through—what you’ve been through.”
I tried to pull my hands away but he held on. “Look, Mark, you deserve a girl who is funny and smart and sexy and healthy. Not somebody you will probably have to take care of, who can’t give you everything you want in life.”
“What if you’re what I want in life? What if I want to take care of you? Don’t I get any choice in the matter?”
“No. You don’t. I’m going to go. I texted Laney already and she’s probably outside waiting by now.”
“Don’t do this, Shortcake.” His eyes were wet.
“I have to.” I pulled at my hands again and this time he let them go.
“You don’t.”
“You’ll thank me later.”
“I promise you I won’t.”
A horn honked outside and I kissed his cheek quickly, one last time. “Goodbye, Mark,” I whispered and then, before I could change my mind, I dashed out the door.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Lessons from Karma and Her Minions
MARK
“Well, this is even more pathetic than I imagined.”
Maybe if I opened just one eye it wouldn’t be so bad.
Nope, didn’t work. Bailey stood at the end of my couch with her hands on her hips and a look on her face that suggested she’d just tasted something rotten.
“If you’re not here to bring me more liquor then you can go away now,” I mumbled.
“I mean, I knew it wasn’t good when you didn’t show up for work, but you haven’t even been to the gym—this is serious.”
The song playing on my phone ended and then started once again.
“Are you shitting me? You have this song on repeat? How many times have you listened to it?”
“I lost count after Sunday morning. Did you know Fiona lives on the fourteenth floor? That has to mean something, right?”
“Fuck. I’m going to need reinforcements. Hang in there, Buffy, I’ll be right back.”
She left the room for God knows where and I couldn’t have cared less. All I wanted was to be left in peace to get drunk and listen to that fucking song. Too bad I was out of booze.
Every word of “Kiss Me Slowly” was burned into my brain, and with each verse and chorus I remembered every single moment with Fiona, even the ones where I’d wanted to murder her and hide the body. Her smile, her sexy-ass little outfits, her smart mouth, her laugh, her eyes, the way she fought me on everything, the way she felt in my arms, the way she changed everything.
It was official.
I had grown a vagina.
The irony was not lost on me. Fiona had ditched me immediately following mind-blowing sex that would never be repeated. How many times had I left a girl’s bed happy in the knowledge I would never sleep with her again?
Karma had planted her boot firmly up my ass.
“Okay,” Bailey began, once again interrupting my mental breakdown. “I am woman enough to admit that I’m not capable of handling this shit on my own. Help is on the way.”
“I don’t want help. Just go away.” I put my arm over my eyes.
Why in the hell had I given her a key? I don’t have a pet. I don’t have plants. I could just have my mail held by the post office when I leave town. Idiot.
“So, first off, you need to put clothes on. I may be immune to you but the rest of the world’s female population seems to find you pleasant-looking for some reason. At least put on a pair of pants—those boxer briefs are bordering on indecent and I can only avert my eyes so much.”
I thought about just removing them entirely in an attempt to scare her off, but then I remembered we had to work together—and there is really no going back once your coworker and almost-sister sees your dick.
“Exactly who is coming over here?”
“Jennifer Lawrence. Who the fuck do you think? Laney.”
“What the fuck?! Shit, get me some pants, will you?”
She stalked by me on her way to my bedroom and flicked my ear with her finger.
“Ow! Don’t you have anybody else to torture?”
Her voice came from down the hall, “I do have a list, but you won today’s drawing, asshat.”
She came back with a pair of track pants and a blue t-shirt. I guess it was time to sit up. Ouch. I pushed past the head spins and got dressed.
Bailey turned my music off.
“Hey! I was listening to that!”
“No you weren’t. You were torturing both of us with that.”
“I like that song. It’s really good.”
“Oh my God. Are you pouting? I am half tempted to look inside those pants and make sure you still have your balls.”
“You don’t understand.” I laid back on the couch and ignored her comment because it hit a little too close to home.
“Then tell me.”
I lifted my head a bit and caught her eye. “Why do I always have to tell you stuff and you keep your shit tight as a duck’s ass?”
“Because I’m not the one who hasn’t showered in two days and who missed work so he could cuddle up with a sappy fucking song and a bottle of Jack.”
She did have a point.
“Fine. Fiona dumped me.”
“Duh. I already know all about that—leukemia, shitty fallout, thinks she’s a bad bet—what else?”
I sat up. “Wait, how do you know that when I just found out—wait, what day is today?”
She moved my legs over, somewhat violently in my opinion, and sat down on the couch where she proceeded to flick my other ear. “Monday!”
“Ow! Stop doing that shit!” If she were a guy I could hit her back. This woman perfectly embodied the utter unfairness of a double standard.
“Oh, don’t get your twat in a knot. I just found out last night. Emergency girls’ night at Fiona’s. I barely survived.” Her head dropped back.
“So what am I supposed to do? I can’t make her be with me.”
The doorbell rang and Bailey put a finger up signaling me to wait while she let Laney in.
“Damn, he’s worse than she is,” said Laney when she saw me.
“This is nothing,” said Bailey. “You missed the Thunder Down Under show I caught earlier. It was obscene.”
Laney set her purse down and went to the kitchen before coming back with a sports drink and some ibuprofen she’d unearthed from her bag. She handed both to me and shrugged. “I’m a mom.”
I took them from her and then couldn’t resist asking, “How is she?”
“A fucking mess, just like you,” said Bailey before Laney could answer. “I was just trying to get his drunken recollection of events. I feel like Derek Waters—but at least that dude gets to drink along.”
“Well, I’m all out of booze, thank you very much, so you’re shit out of luck,” I said in what was probably a petulant tone. “But, like I said, I can’t make her be with me so there is nothing you can do.”
“I hate this so much for both of you,” said Laney, the nice one. “She wants to be with you but you have to understand, all this stuff she’s telling herself is so deeply ingrained in her mind she can’t see past it. I’m her best friend and even I have to tread lightly where all of this is concerned.”
“Well, if you want my two cents, I know one place you could start,” said Bailey.
Was it possible she could actually have helpful input? Ha!
“You need to stop treating all the women in your life like they’ll break if you don’t constantly hover over them.” She pointed accusingly.
What a crock.
“What are you talking about? I don’t treat you that way,” I protested.
“That’s just because you think I’m half dude. I don’t count.”
“I don’t treat Laney that way,” I countered.
“That’s because she and Nate would both kick your ass.”
Laney stepped in. “I have to say I agree, Mark.” She hesitated for a moment and went on, “Take your mom—I think it’s really sweet you care about her so much, but have you seen her lately? For the first time in her life, she is kicking ass and taking names all on her own.”
I stared at her.
It’s always been my job to take care of my mom. She needs me.
Right?
Shit.
“Fiona did that,” I finally said.
They both nodded.
“That’s why she didn’t tell me, isn’t it? About the health stuff, I mean.”
“I’m sure that’s part of it,” responded Laney. “But I think the bigger part is, despite all outward appearances, she sees herself as weak, and nothing we can do will change that.”
I popped the ibuprofen in my mouth and chased them with the entire bottle of sports drink. “Well, ladies, if you can help me, I’d like to just see about that.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
And Now, “The Amazing Disappearing Man!” Parts One and Two
FIONA
“Thank you so much,” I said as I forced my gazillionth smile of the evening. “Your support is truly appreciated.”
The couple finished shaking my hand and filtered back into the crowd of attendees and donors. My mother leaned over to whisper in my ear.
“Are you sure you’re okay, sweetheart? You seem pale. Are you coming down with something?”
I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. “I’m fine—just a rough week.”
It was Friday night and I was back at another function, but this time we were just guests, thank goodness. That didn’t mean we could relax and fall back on our duties, though. Anytime we were in the presence of big money, we had a job to do.
“Well poor little you,” Guilt chastised. “I’m sorry to trouble you with all the kids out there who still need help.”
Okay, okay. She was totally right, but sometimes a girl just wants to take a night or ten to wallow in sadness when she gets her heart broken. Even if she’s the one who broke it.
I vowed to do better and wallow tomorrow instead. I had been a complete zombie all week, and at this point Jax was probably ready to fire me. If it weren’t for Ollie picking up the slack, I’m sure I would have gotten the ax already.
But tomorrow was Saturday and I had no commitments, so I planned on taking full advantage. I had Tina and Amy cued up, Kim waiting on the counter, and good old Ben and Jerry on standby. This time they would work in shifts, though. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice…
Shame on me.
Indeed.
I had done this to myself. What idiot turns down a guy who gets a look under the hood and still wants to be with you?
“It’s for his own good and you know it,” Guilt chimed in again.
You know, if you’re going to make me take this damn high road the least you could do is pitch in for the wine!
This week had probably been the worst
of my entire adult life.
When Laney had picked me up from Mark’s, she’d behaved like the model best friend. I’m ashamed I ever considered trading her in for Rocco. She asked zero questions and drove like a bat out of hell to get me away from Mark’s house. Once we were back at her place she gave me a huge comfy t-shirt, a blanket, and a bag of Cheetos. Then she settled us in on the couch and put her arms around me in a giant snuggle. I cried into her enormous boobs and she stroked my hair. Neither one of us had spoken a single word.
After my sobbing had subsided to the occasional hiccup, she released me and looked into my face. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head and hiccupped again.
“Okay, I’m going to change my shirt so I don’t look like I’m competing in a wet t-shirt contest and then we’re going to watch some crazy bitches on TV.” She stood up but then looked back down at me. “But tomorrow we’re talking, Fee.”
An hour later we both fell asleep on the couch with orange fingers and the TV still on. It was only later that it dawned on me I had hijacked my best friend’s engagement night with my own drama and neither she nor Nate had said a word about it. Damn, I have extraordinary friends.
The next day I still felt wretched, but I dragged myself home after promising Laney we’d have a girl gabfest at my place that night. She took it upon herself to invite Bailey and Charlotte, her neighbor, thinking that the more women we involved the better our chances of solving whatever problem had sent me into a tailspin. At that point, I was beyond caring who knew my business. I just needed this giant knot in my chest to go away. And, besides, Charlotte was Texas born and bred and tended to throw out wacky Southern phrases and call people “Sugar” and “Honey Pie.” I figured that on its own might help.
So, I spent the evening spilling my guts and drinking wine with these awesome women. They were understandably a bit shocked by the breadth of my personal history share—Charlotte and Bailey hadn’t even known about the leukemia, much less the rest of the shitstorm.
They all tried to reassure me that Mark was a grown man and could make his own decisions about what he did and didn’t want. And I had to endure the lectures about how I deserved to be happy and I needed to stop worrying so much.
The Spark (Carolina Connections Book 2) Page 24