“I know how bad this looks,” she tried to explain, “But it all happened so fast, and I got scared when you kept popping up and … ”
“No,” he interrupted, “You have no idea how bad this looks. Why didn’t you tell me? Is that why we kept meeting? Were you tracking me or something?”
“Now you know that’s not true,” Rachel answered calmly, standing and approaching him, “The very first day we bumped into each other, I was at the community board pulling a job card off. I turned and slammed into you. That was the first time we met. You didn’t speak to Kirby until well after that. How could I have been tracking you?”
Joe held his hands up, offended. He began pacing the room, locking his fingers in his hair. “Did you just refer to Kirby as a separate person? What’s really going on here?”
“Joe, please,” she begged, “Please don’t panic. I couldn’t keep this from you anymore. I had to tell you because if I didn’t it would have eaten me alive. And the fact is that I do … ”
Joe spun around and met her gaze. His pained expression nearly broke Rachel’s heart; her voice caught in her throat. Joe waited, his brow furrowed. Her lower lip trembled and she continued, “I do love you.”
Rachel’s eyes were wide and teary as Joe huffed in disbelief. “This is how you love me? You’ve been lying to me for our entire relationship! Wait a second — you’ve been advising me on how to open up to you. Are you kidding?”
“Well, who the hell calls a phone sex operator for advice on love?” The words burst from Rachel’s mouth before she had a chance to stop them.
Joe looked as if he’d been slapped in the face. “So this is my fault now?”
Rachel groaned, “No, I’m not saying this is your fault! I’m saying that I’m … I don’t want to fight with you, Joe!”
Tears streamed down her face. “I can’t even tell you how horrible I feel. Can’t we just talk about this?”
Hit by a wave of nausea, Rachel leaned over and grasped her knees. Joe’s brow knitted together as he watched her fall apart. Tears began to brew in his eyes. He took a deep breath and turned away from her, running an exasperated hand through his hair.
“Why, Rachel? Why didn’t you just tell me? On the phone, at the movies … why didn’t you just tell me?”
The volume of his voice rose until he was yelling, and there was no stopping it. Livid, he slammed his hand against the front door. Behind him, Rachel gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. Joe turned back toward her, closing the gap between them in three long steps. His chest rose and fell with emotion as he looked down with a saddened frown. Rachel straightened her back, forcing herself to face what she’d done while trying to ignore the overwhelming sense of vulnerability that came along with arguing in her bra.
“Okay, Rach. You want to talk about this? Let’s talk. I asked you if you had anymore secrets.”
Rachel sighed deeply. “I know.”
A look of resigned heartbreak washed over Joe’s face; Rachel looked into his eyes with an apologetic frown, placing a hand on his folded arms.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Joe’s eyes closed at her touch. He ran a hand down his face and turned away from her, picking up his shirt with a sigh. He had it on before Rachel could process what was happening.
With a disappointed look, he quietly handed Rachel her shirt. “Here.”
Rachel pulled her shirt on and swallowed the lump in her throat. “You’re leaving? Can’t we just … ”
Joe shook his head as he struggled to get his belt back on. She thought she might have heard his voice crack when he answered. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
Rachel felt her knees buckling. She reached for him. “Joe, please … ”
He avoided her touch. “No, Rachel. Please don’t … I just … I need to go.”
Rachel blanched, tears threatening to fall again as he rebuffed her. The disappointed, betrayed look on his face made her heart shatter. I didn’t want to hurt you!
“I am sorry, Joe.”
“Yeah.” He reached for his keys on the table, and then took two long strides toward the door.
“Joe, wait!”
He stopped but didn’t turn. Staring at his hand as it rested on the doorknob, Rachel heaved a sigh and willed her voice to work.
“You don’t have to look at me, and you don’t have to tell me that what I did was wrong — I already know that. I don’t know if I can ever make up for this, but please don’t leave.”
Joe’s hand dropped to his side. “I may have needed someone to tell me I wasn’t crazy, but I knew you were the one. From the first day I saw you, I wanted you in my life. But this … I feel like an idiot right now. I’m just … I don’t know what to … I’m just done.”
Rachel stood there helplessly as Joe reached for the door once more, opened it and walked out without another word or a glance backward. She yelled his name beseechingly; there was no answer, and she knew he wouldn’t come back. Done, he’d said. Rachel’s tummy tightened painfully, and the breath slowly left her body.
• • •
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been on the couch, enveloped in painful sobs and waves of tears. But the CD had stopped long ago, and the air was dead silent beyond her mournful cries. Rachel struggled to pull herself up off of the couch and on to her feet. She needed her phone, and she needed the only person in the world that wouldn’t give her the “I told you so” speech.
Her breath coming in sharp gasps, she managed to reach her phone on the dinette. She found Camille’s number and prompted the call, praying that her friend was ready to talk to her again. The call went straight to voicemail, and her heart sank. She hung up and dialed again.
“Cami, please pick up,” she whimpered aloud.
Her heart raced as she tried, again and again, to get in touch with her best friend. Too distraught to even think of leaving a message, she finally gave up and trudged back to her place on the couch. For a few minutes, Rachel lay in complete silence as her thoughts ran about a hundred miles a minute. Fighting back the sobs that were threatening to wrack her body again, she brought her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them in an attempt to keep herself in one piece.
Seeing no reason to move, she stayed where she was, partially wishing she’d drown as tears streamed down her face. It could have been minutes later, it could have been hours later, but she eventually fell into a fitful sleep.
• • •
She missed Joe so much it hurt, and she whimpered piteously with each step she took, whether it was from bed to the bathroom, or the bathroom back to the bed. She wasn’t hungry, she wasn’t thirsty — she was just miserable. At one point over the weekend Rachel caught herself staring at the pantry helplessly, zoning out as images of Joe’s face swam through her mind’s eye.
She couldn’t decide what hurt more — Joe’s disappointed voice or the heartbroken look on his face. No, it all sucks, she decided as she took the next round of painful steps to the bathroom. She managed a few sips of water from the bathroom faucet, but wanted no more. Weakened by heartache and a refusal to eat, the steps back to bed were even more difficult. Rachel somehow succeeded in crawling back under the covers, even though her limbs felt like lead. She cried again for the millionth time, finally falling asleep from the exertion.
The sun was leaking through the blinds on her bedroom window, and she thanked the universe that she’d made it to Sunday. One more day and she’d be back at work. It was all she had left to distract her. She’d never return to Orchid again, and had no plans of even calling them to announce that she’d quit. She’d given up trying to call Camille; her phone lay dissected on her nightstand. In an attempt to stop herself from calling Joe and begging for forgiveness, she’d pulled the battery out of her phone and thrown it down the hallway.
As she drifted in and out of sleep, the events from the night he left replayed in her head. She could still hear Joe yelling at her, and still see the heartbreak in his face. Rachel tossed and turned in bed, trying to make the visions go away. Somewhere in the distance, she thought she heard her front door open. She closed her eyes tighter, trying to ignore the intrusive sounds. Rachel heard muted footsteps next, and then someone called her name. She groaned and turned over.
“Leave me alone,” she muttered despondently.
A familiar voice called her name again, and her door creaked open slowly. A gasp came from behind her and, as the door closed, a familiar smell of perfume filled her nostrils. Rachel pulled the covers from over her head and peered up. Camille stood at the side of her bed, her face the picture of sympathy.
“Hi, sweetie.”
Rachel opened her mouth to speak, and burst into tears. She covered her face and sobbed, and Camille was on the bed immediately. She wrapped her arms around Rachel, doing her best to comfort her.
“Oh Rach,” she sighed, “Mike called me this morning. Joe told him everything.
The news made Rachel cry harder. Camille rubbed her back consolingly.
Rachel cried, “I’m a jerk, Cam. I can’t believe I did this to him.”
“No, no, you’re not a jerk,” Camille insisted soothingly. “You’re a bit silly, honey — but you’re not a jerk. I’m the jerk for convincing you to keep it from him. I’m so sorry, Rachel. I know you love him.”
Camille hugged Rachel until the tears finally stopped. After an hour, Camille pulled Rachel to a sitting position.
“I can’t let you fall apart like this, Rach. You’ve gotta eat, and you need to clean up.”
“I’m not hungry,” Rachel replied. Her stomach betrayed her immediately as it growled loudly in protest.
“Nonsense,” Camille said, standing. “Get in the shower. I’ll make some macaroni and cheese and you … brush your teeth, because your breath stinks.”
Rachel smiled, her first since Friday night. Camille helped her to her feet and pointed her in the direction of the bathroom. She’d clean up, but only because Cami wanted her to. And that was good enough, for now. The rest, she supposed, would have to come in time.
• • •
Thanks to Cami’s foolproof “broken heart bender,” Sunday led into Monday without as many tears as the night before. Rachel hadn’t numbed by any stretch of the imagination, but she was eager to get back to work. She needed the distraction desperately, and was willing to do whatever it took to get her mind off of Joe. He hadn’t called, messaged, or emailed; her only thought was that he meant what he said. The words replayed in her head: I’m done. And while her heart felt like it was shattering little by little, again and again, she understood his anger.
Rachel did her best to keep a smile on her face, but couldn’t avoid the exhausted way that she walked, or the sleepy way that she reacted when others laughed spiritedly. No one else seemed to pay attention except Grace, who had been watching her out of the corner of her eye all morning. All things considered, Rachel was as happy as her body would allow her to be. Lucy, thankfully, had placed her with the sweetest editor on the face of the earth. Grace was eager to teach her, appeared confident in Rachel’s abilities, and had a great eye.
About ten minutes before they were scheduled to break for lunch, Grace approached her. “Are you okay, Rachel? You seem really … sad.”
Rachel nearly cried again. Not here! “Boy problems.”
Grace smiled sympathetically. “When is that not the case? Men are silly creatures.”
“I guess,” she shrugged, forcing a smile. “It’s just still fresh. I’m sorry if I’m being so miserable, I’m really trying not to be.”
Grace grinned, patting her forearm consolingly. “Don’t be ridiculous. Let’s go have lunch; I know a great place.”
She stood and motioned for Rachel to come with her, a pleasant smile on her face. They ended up at a trendy restaurant a few blocks away, with Grace chattering excitedly about how great the food was and how she wouldn’t say a word if Rachel wanted to unwind with a glass of wine. Rachel couldn’t help but be amused and feel grateful for Grace’s bubbly energy. It was a breath of fresh air that she needed after an entire weekend of barely inhaling.
Rachel somehow ended up venting to Grace without a single feeling of dread. She was incredibly easy to talk to, and Rachel found herself pouring her heart out over soup and paninis. And, to her delight, they played off of each other, sharing stories of heartache and managing to laugh at all of them. And she did have a glass of wine — so did Grace. Rachel enjoyed the warmth that filled her with each sip and, somewhere toward the end of the meal, she actually felt a little bit normal.
“Thanks for this,” she said, smiling as she pulled her credit card out. “I needed a few giggles.”
“We all do,” Grace replied sweetly. “Trust me. I’m no stranger to heartbreak. And it does get better.”
Rachel nodded thoughtfully. “I know. It’s just a pain in the butt trying to get to better.”
“It’s still new,” Grace reminded her. “One day you’ll forgive yourself for your mistakes, then you’ll forgive him for leaving you, and then it’ll all start to fade.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Why would I need to forgive him?”
“He still walked out,” Grace said matter-of-factly. “If real love is truly for better or for worse, he’d be here.”
Rachel’s brow furrowed slightly as she considered that. “I never actually thought of it that way. I guess I’ve spent too much time beating myself up — what I did wasn’t right.”
“I get that, but don’t hate yourself. You know what you did was wrong, you apologized, and that’s it. If he cools off and comes back, that’s one thing. But if he can’t handle you at your worst, then he certainly doesn’t deserve you at your best.
“But it’s only been a weekend,” Grace continued, her smile hopeful. “Give it some time. And meanwhile, just try and stay in the here and now. Don’t punish yourself, okay?”
Rachel nodded. “Thanks again, Grace.”
Grace’s smile was genuine and friendly. “Anytime. Now let’s get back upstairs before Lucy realizes we’ve been getting sauced at lunch.”
“Sauced,” Rachel teased with a laugh as they left the restaurant. “Are you one of those one-and-done girls?”
“Easy there, missy — I know where you work,” Grace warned with a tickled laugh.
• • •
Grace and Rachel chatted animatedly as they made their way back to Equinox. Rachel forced the thought from her mind that she’d be home and lonely in a few hours’ time, choosing instead to laugh and at least pretend that she wasn’t hurting for the duration of the day. By the time they’d gotten up to the lobby, Rachel’s smile was relaxed and she even felt a renewed energy. Amy greeted them with a friendly smile.
“How was lunch?”
Grace smiled. “It was actually pretty uneventful! We had lunch at the place you and I went to last weekend.”
Amy’s eyes brightened. “Was the hot waiter there?”
“No,” Grace giggled furiously, a tint of red in her cheeks. “I wanted to show him to Rachel too!”
Amy stood and leaned over to Rachel with a playful grin. “Girl, you want to see this waiter. I promise you, he’s tastier than the prix fixe.”
Rachel closed her eyes and let out an amused laugh. “Well then, I guess you’re going to have to show me this guy!”
Amy considered Rachel with a tilt of the head. “You look like you’re feeling better. I was worried about you when you came in this morning.”
Rachel opened her mouth to speak, but Grace cut across her. “She’s got the sniffles. Don’t you Rachel?”
Rachel nodded and gave Grace a thankful grin. “It’s t
he weather changing. It happens to me every time spring changes to summer.”
Amy leaned back. “Oh god, stay away from me — I can’t afford to get sick!”
The trio had another couple of laughs as Grace and Rachel waited out the last three minutes of their break before returning to work. But before they could head to the back, the lobby door burst open. Michelle stormed over the threshold in a rather dramatic fashion, her purse slung over her shoulder. The women at the reception desk regarded her with strange expressions as she approached the elevator and stabbed at the call button.
Amy leaned over the counter again. “Michelle? Is everything okay?”
Michelle froze. After a beat, she spun around and shot Amy an icy stare. “Oh shut up.”
Amy gasped and Rachel’s jaw dropped as Michelle began to take long strides, heels clacking, toward the stairway. Grace gave her a disgusted once-over before Michelle disappeared into the stairway. The only evidence of her having been there was the echo of her shoes as they clomped down the stairs, loudly at first but fading quickly as she made her way to the first floor.
“Wow,” Amy smirked, “she’s got a long way to go.”
“What was that about?” Rachel asked.
“Whatever it was must have been serious if she’s hoofing it down all those stairs,” Grace answered.
Amy looked toward the door that led into the back office before casting a glance at Grace and Rachel. “I heard Lucy and Michelle arguing in the conference room … it was about the Pavon book.”
Rachel rubbed the area over her heart absently as the mention of his book caused a fresh ache to begin in her center.
“Really,” Grace whispered with interest. “I wonder what her dramatic departure was about? Do you think Lucy sent her home again?”
Before Amy could answer, her intercom beeped. The three of them jumped in surprise, and Lucy’s voice sounded over Amy’s phone.
“Amy, have you seen Rachel anywhere?”
Anxiety poked at Rachel’s chest. Me? Grace shot a nervous glance in Rachel’s direction before leaning against the reception counter.
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