“When? What are you even talking about?”
“When you were telling me about what it was like for you tonight to see me with her.”
My hand shoots up and latches on to his wrist to pull him off of me, but he’s too strong for me. “You know what, Alex? I think it’s time for you to go because I’m done with this conversation.”
He grins at me before letting go of my chin and casually kicking back on my couch. “I’m not leaving.”
“You’re not leaving?”
“Nope.”
Fucking men! Jesus H. Christ, do they ever listen?
I stand up, so infuriated by him, and start to pace in front of the coffee table. Through my clenched teeth and in the quietest, calmest voice I can muster, I say to him again, “Please leave.”
“Like I said, I’m not leaving until you tell me what it was like for you to see me with her.”
Have you ever seen a cartoon where one of the characters has smoke blowing out of their ears? Or when they blow off the top of their head from anger or rage? That is exactly what I feel like when I start to shout at him. “Fine! You want to know what it was like? It was like a fucking knife to the heart! I hated it and wanted to scratch her eyes out after I kicked your ass up and down Coconut Grove!”
He stands up and starts coming toward me when my tears make an appearance again. I put my hands up and walk backward until my back comes in contact with the nearest wall. Alex braces an arm by my head and the other by my hip, trapping me in place like a caged animal. And considering what my face probably looks like right now from all the waterproof mascara that is never really waterproof, it’s not a far stretch.
“That’s not what you said before, so how about I help you remember?” he coolly says. “You asked me if I could imagine what it was like to see the man I love with another woman.”
Dammit. I did say that out loud, didn’t I?
I wipe my eyes and don’t say a word. His eyes search my face until settling back on mine. “You love me.”
“So?”
I know, childish and immature, but I’m grasping at straws here.
“So, when were you going to tell me?”
“How about never?”
“Guess what, it’s half past never because you just did not five fucking minutes ago.”
I try to dart out from under his arm, but he pulls me back against the wall and presses his body against mine. My hands shoot up and brace themselves against his chest, where I can feel his heart pounding away like a bass drum. His hands cup my face, and before I can think, feel, say, or do anything, his lips devour mine.
At first, my mind is blank and my body is a completely willing participant. It’s a rough, hair-pulling, and clothes-being-tugged kind of kiss, leaving no doubt in my mind that if it keeps up we’ll be fucking against this wall in about ten seconds.
Then a flood of memories of the last man who broke my heart, Aiden, seeps into my thoughts. And that’s when I realize I need to stop this. I need to put distance between us. I cannot and will not let another man break me, especially when I’m so close to my breaking point already.
I pull his lips off of me and drop my hands, which were gripping his shirt for dear life. “You need to go now, Alex.”
His confused expression matches the tone of his voice. “Why?”
“Because I can’t do this anymore. I’m done … we’re done.”
“Are you kidding me, Julia?” Alex rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes before looking at me again. “You just told me you love me, and now you’re going to turn around and tell me to get lost?”
“You don’t get it, Alex,” I say. “I can’t trust you. You can explain until you’re blue in the face. But the fact remains that I saw you with her. I heard her, and I know other things that have made me see the light and call this for what it was—a mistake.”
“What other things?” he asks.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Fuck if it doesn’t,” he says.
“I’m sure you won’t be lonely too long,” I say to him quietly. “Marisa is just a phone call away, isn’t she?”
“Can you please stop talking about her?”
“I bet she looks just like Katerina.” His eyebrows knit together in confusion as I keep on riding the runaway train that is bitchy Julia. “When you finally do fuck her, I bet it will be like fucking your dead fiancée. So it’s kind of a win-win situation for the both of you.”
As soon as the words are spoken, I immediately regret them. In my mind, I’m already trying to formulate excuses for myself, but I know without a doubt that there aren’t any. I willingly crossed the line, and there is no going back.
His face is stoic and his voice is calm when he says, “You mean like it was a win-win situation for me when I couldn’t fuck Sabrina but fucked you instead?”
Pow! Straight to the heart and the gut and the kisser.
But I deserve it and then some.
“Jesus Christ,” he says, his voice matching the expression of shock on his face. “Why the fuck are you doing this?”
The tears start to flow, and he follows one stream down my cheek until it falls to the floor. He takes a few steps back and digs through his pockets for his keys. Once in his hand, he stares at me in quiet disbelief for a few seconds before heading toward the door.
“I came over here after you left me at the restaurant because I wanted to explain what happened. But I also came over here to tell you that I love you and that I would never do anything to hurt you again.” My stomach bottoms out to hear him say this to me, but he’s not done yet. “I hope you’re happy with what just happened here, Julia. Because you fucking blew it for yourself.”
He slams the door behind him, and I hear his car pull out of my driveway shortly thereafter.
It’s then that I slide down the wall and collapse into a heap of tears and choking sobs. I tell myself I deserve it, that I did it all to myself, but it doesn’t ease the pain whatsoever. And adding to the pain is the knowledge that he loves me, and he’s right … I so blew it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Note to self: you are no longer in college and too old to be sleeping on a hardwood floor all night.
My eyes are burning as the first flicker of light filters through my windows and hits my face like a spotlight. I wake up in the same exact spot on the floor from last night, and as much as my body is in pain from being in this position, I can’t quite motivate myself to get up. I’m sure my eyes are all kinds of puffy and red from the off-and-on crying I did after Alex left last night.
God, what the hell did I do?
After he left, I went over and over everything in my head, trying to figure out what would possess me to say those things. Every time I came up with the same answer: self-preservation. I realize it’s a cop-out—a huge one at that—but it’s the only thing I have.
I have spent most of my adult life preventing men from breaking my heart by keeping them at arm’s length. Whether it’s by trying to find the littlest of things that would drive any sane person crazy or simply by hanging on to a past heartache and reminding myself of that whenever someone got too close. The latter is the category Alex falls into, and through no fault of his own because he never knew that he was going up against so much baggage. And you’re right, it isn’t fair. I wasn’t fair to him, to myself … to us.
So even as I spoke those awful and hurtful words to him last night, I knew in my heart of hearts that I shouldn’t be saying them. But the part of me that wants to keep my heart safe from any potential pain reared her ugly head and said, “Fuck it, better now than later when he chews you up and spits you out.”
Trust me, I am fully aware how that logic is the stupidest and most idiotic thing I could imagine in my screwed-up head, but it’s hard breaking yourself of a habit that you’ve been implementing for years.
Don’t you think I want to?
I do. I sooo do.
I’m sick and tired of being so bitt
er, of pushing away my one shot at a happy ending that’s full of unicorns with rainbows flying out of their asses. I want that for myself just as much as the next person. But like a carousel ride, I spin round and round, not knowing where the hell I’m supposed to start fixing this because I undoubtedly end up right at the very beginning of the ride—alone and mounting a mechanical machine.
I will admit to wanting to pick up my phone a bunch of times last night and call or text Alex. Hell, I even considered jumping into my car and heading over to his house to beg for forgiveness, but pride kept me planted on this floor in a writhing ball of tears and stubbornness.
Taking a deep breath through my lungs, I blow it out on a long sigh and roll onto my back to stare up at the ceiling, counting all the imperfections as if they were sheep. My eyes grow heavy again, and I succumb to sleep, not caring at all that I’m still on the goddamn floor.
A knock on the door—actually more like a pounding—wakes me up. I have no idea how long I’ve been asleep this time, so I glance over at the clock on the cable box by the television to see that it’s a little after eleven o’clock in the morning. The pounding on the door starts up again, so I slowly peel myself up off the floor and go to see who it is.
Before I peek through the peephole, there is a second where I hope it’s Alex waiting for me on the other side. But it’s not.
I open the door to find Lisette and Sarah standing in front of me, both in their work attire since it’s a Friday morning and they should be at work. Come to think of it, I should be at work. Ugh, whatever, this is my official notification to myself that I’m taking a mental day.
My voice sounding hoarse, I ask both of them, “What are you doing here?”
They barrel in, not speaking a word, and both sit down on my couch, staring up at me as I’m still holding the door open.
I close the door and lean against it while rubbing my eyes. “Seriously, guys, aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Lisette asks in a quiet voice.
“I’m taking the day off.”
“It would have been nice if you would have let me know or at least answered one of my calls or texts this morning when I was trying to figure out where the hell you were,” she says, her voice growing more agitated by the second.
“Looks like you found me,” I mutter, then direct my attention to Sarah. “I understand why she’s here, but how did you get here?”
“Darren.”
My head pops up at that. “Excuse me? What the hell does my brother have to do with you being here?”
“He called me at the gallery to ask me out. While we were talking, he told me what happened last night after I left you guys at Taurus,” she explains in a rush. “So I called Lisette to see if she’d heard from you, and I told her what happened last night. Then she kept trying to get in touch with you, and then … well that’s it. We came here.”
My brain just exploded.
“Okay, let’s try this again. Slowly this time so I can understand.” I rub the heels of my hands against my eyes and move to sit on the coffee table to face them. “You’re telling me that my brother Darren called you to ask you out on a date?”
“Yup!” she chirps happily. “First thing this morning at the gallery. I guess I made quite an impression on him last night!”
She raises her hand to high-five me, but I don’t reciprocate, which causes her to frown. So she turns her hand toward Lisette, who indulges her and gets her to smile again.
“Sarah,” I say in a hesitant voice. “My brother told you what happened last night? All of it?”
“He did, and I’m so sorry, Julia.” Sarah’s hand shoots out and pats my knee like I was a small child. “And by the way, he’s all kinds of worried about you, so you might want to call him.”
I dart my eyes to Lisette, who’s watching me like a hawk. I point to Sarah when I ask Lisette, “She told you everything?”
“She did. I’m so sorry.”
Obviously, they don’t know the worst of it.
I start to chew on my bottom lip, and then Sarah chimes in. “Yeah, Alex hasn’t shown up for work and isn’t answering any calls or texts either.”
“How did you get out of work then?”
“I told the office manager I had to buy tampons.”
I can’t help it. I start to laugh my ass off because this is now the second time in a month that she’s used that excuse. “You do realize that you can’t keep using that excuse.”
She waves me off and rolls her eyes at me. “Pfft! Anytime you mention your period to a man, he clams right up. Works like a charm every time.”
Once my laughter dies down my mood changes drastically, and I go right into crying, covering my face as the both of them sit there not knowing what to do since they’ve never seen me like this. Hell, I’ve never seen me like this!
“I’m a terrible person,” I admit out loud and through my tears.
Lisette speaks up first. “No, you’re not. How were you supposed to know about that woman?”
“Yeah,” Sarah agrees softly. “That’s kind of messed up.”
I shake my head and drop my hands. “You guys don’t get it. I really fucked up.”
Both of them look confused, as well they should be. So I proceed to tell them exactly what happened last night. Every last gory detail up until I passed out on the hardwood floor.
After a long silence once I’m done retelling the night’s events, Lisette looks me dead in the eye and says, “Julia, I love you with all my heart, but what you did last night, even for you, is really messed up. What the hell were you thinking?”
I open my mouth to explain, but she cuts me off. “You know what? Save it! Because I know what you’re going to say.”
“Lisette, I—”
“Don’t ‘Lisette’ me, Julia! I told you to give him a chance, and you’re sitting there telling me that he basically did nothing wrong and you still sent him packing?”
She goes to stand, but Sarah grabs a hold of her arm and pulls her back down.
“No puedo creer que hayas hecho esto. ¡Es increíble!”
“I don’t know what Lisette just said,” Sarah says quietly, “but I have to agree.”
“But you just said you have no idea what she said,” I answer back defensively.
“I mean everything she said before that.” Sarah leans forward and takes my hands in hers. “Julia, you did a terrible thing, but it does not make you a terrible person.”
“Ha! Didn’t you hear what I said to him last night? I swear, I’m going straight to hell in a handbag.”
“No you’re not,” she says with a small smile. “This can all be fixed.”
I go to say something back, but Lisette speaks up again. “She’s right.”
My eyebrows shoot up at her agreeing with what Sarah said.
“He loves you, and you love him,” Lisette says simply and crosses herself. “This can definitely be fixed.”
My head tilts to the side as I wipe the tears from my eyes. “Sometimes love isn’t enough.”
Sarah and Lisette both look at each other and then back at me. They both start to shake with laughter, biting their lips to keep it in until they both explode.
“What’s so funny?”
“You,” they answer in unison.
“What did I say that was so funny?”
“When did you become a Hallmark card?” Lisette asks through the last of her laughing fit.
Sarah adds, “Yeah, this is most definitely fixable.”
“I’m so glad that I can be the source of your entertainment today, but I’m not finding this funny at all. Sooo, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to feeling sorry for myself and maybe eat a fuck-ton of white chocolate chip and macadamia nut ice cream.”
I stand up and go to the door to open it for them. They follow me and whisper amongst themselves when they get outside.
“Go on and eat your ice cream,” Lisette says over her shoul
der at me while walking to her car. “We’ll take it from here, don’t you worry.”
They climb into their cars and drive off, finally leaving me alone to try to make sense of what just happened. I plop down onto the couch still wearing my clothes from last night and expel a long-ass sigh.
Seriously, could my life get any more confusing or dramatic? I’ve turned into my own worst nightmare—a telenovela on one of those cheesy Spanish stations that I sometimes watch, even though I don’t understand most of what’s being said.
As a matter of fact, that might be what would go perfectly with a pint of ice cream.
I walk over to the kitchen and pull the emergency pint out of the freezer and then turn on the TV. Searching through my stored episodes on the DVR, I find Corazón Indomable and start the first of many episodes while I eat ice cream using a giant spoon. It won’t make the pain go away, but it will at least make me forget for a little while, and that’s all I need right now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
You tend to do really stupid things when you’re down in the dumps. Not showering would probably be high on that list. It is for me at least. Eating lots of ice cream is another. Inventing a drinking game while watching The Real Housewives of New Jersey is yet another. This one was surprisingly easy, with the majority of tequila shots happening when any of the housewives looked at jewelry, talked about jewelry, or tried jewelry on. I had to stop playing since I was getting hammered twenty minutes into the second episode.
Another really stupid thing I’ve done is ignore Sabrina’s calls and texts all weekend. I cannot bring myself to talk to her yet. I know she’ll be full of sage advice and soothing words of comfort and all the other good stuff that comes along with being my best friend. But for right now, I want to wallow in my despair just a little while longer.
Alex still hasn’t called or texted me. Not that I expected him to.
There was a very small part of me that was hanging on to the crazy idea that he’d show up here as if nothing had ever happened. Well here it is, Sunday night, and nothing, not a peep. Just me and my jar of peanut butter, which I’ve been eating with my fingers while watching the 700 Club for the last hour because I’m too lazy to change the channel.
Playing It Safe Page 25