Just Jilted

by Lila James

  I arrived at Mom’s home around noon. She answered the door looking tired and drawn, decked out in “breakup” wear. This consisted of any variation of sweats, hair in ponytail, and a puffy-eyed look. I’d worn such a getup in the days immediately after my breakup with Marcus. Mom had sported this look the year after her divorce from Dad.

  We plopped down on the couch to watch a series of romantic comedies. Mom told me how Laurence had been acting more and more distant, and how she kept trying to change to appease him. Hence the teenybopper outfits she’d begun to wear.

  “You shouldn’t have to change who you are for anyone, Mom.”

  “I know, I know,” Mom muttered. “But your dad already met someone and was going to marry her, and I had this handsome young man who was infatuated with me. I didn’t want to let go of that.”

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this to my mother … but there are many men out there who’d be honored to have you.”

  “Mm-hmm,” Mom said, focusing on the television, where Julia Roberts was singing a Prince song in a bathtub. “Was the wedding beautiful?”

  I stared at Mom, but she wasn’t looking at me. I didn’t want to tell her anything about Dad’s wedding. I was definitely over Marcus, but I wouldn’t want to hear the details about his wedding to someone else. And the thought of Jackson marrying anyone else was too traumatic for me to even imagine.

  “It was OK,” I said.

  “Our wedding was beautiful,” Mom murmured. “It was on the beach. I remember thinking, This is going to be forever.”

  “Mom,” I whispered, reaching over to place my hand on hers. I had no idea she would take Dad’s remarriage this hard.

  “The thing is,” she continued, looking at me and squeezing my hand, “I know you don’t want to hear this, but your father and I—”

  “I don’t,” I interrupted.

  “I need to vent, Adrian.”

  “Fine,” I relented.

  “Your father and I were probably never right for each other. We just happened to be the first person the other truly fell in love with. We were so young when we met. After we got married, we were forced to grow up together. And we ended up growing in these different directions.”

  I stared at her for a moment. This was starting to sound eerily like Marcus and me.

  “And you think it’s right because you seem to love each other so much and you’re such great friends at first,” I echoed. Mom looked at me, surprised, and nodded in agreement.

  “But one day you wake up and realize the person you married has become a stranger. The arguments begin. Petty at first, and then they become repetitive. It’s as if you’re arguing about the same thing over and over, but in different ways. Until you start to dislike the person you married, even if the love is still there,” Mom concluded.

  I nodded, wondering if this would have happened to Marcus and me over the years. I remembered growing up listening to the constant arguments, the slamming doors, the cold silences. I’d wondered if my parents ever loved each other, and if so, how could love turn into such animosity? Mom seemed to sense my thoughts, reaching out to brush a tear away from my face.

  “I’m sorry you had to witness the brunt of our unhappiness. You’re our shining gift from our marriage. Always will be. As wrong as Robert and I ended up being for each other, I’ll always love him. And even though we’ve been divorced for five years, I have to say it hurts just a little bit that he could move on just like that after a twenty-five-year marriage.”

  “No one gets it right the first time,” I said. “I get the feeling that if I’d married Marcus—”

  “I have another confession to make,” Mom said, looking at me out of the corner of her eye. “I wasn’t thrilled when you told me you were marrying Marcus. I just hoped you were going into it with both eyes opened, not just because it was the next logical step to take.”

  “I think that’s exactly what I was doing.”

  “Then it’s good you didn’t marry him. Maybe Marcus did you both a favor. Because it would have hurt a lot more in the long run. Believe me.”

  Mom and I sat quietly for the remainder of the movie, mulling over what was said. I had a newfound respect for Mom’s honesty, as well as her revelation about Marcus and me.

  I found myself thinking about relationships. More often than not we don’t get things right the first time, and these old relationships can haunt any of us. If we let them.

  I considered telling Mom about my feelings for Jackson but decided against it for fear she would immediately get on the phone and spread the word. Besides, I needed to come to terms with my feelings first. I was still hoping that my love was just an infatuation that would fade, but I doubted it.

  I ended up staying overnight at Mom’s. I wanted to make sure that she was really OK, and I wanted to watch Sixteen Candles and Pretty in Pink in their entirety. Classics. There was nothing like a cinematic happy ending to properly cheer me up.

  I was attempting to cook blueberry pancakes for Mom the next morning when a call came in on my cell from a number I didn’t recognize. I hesitated for a moment before answering.

  “Adrian? It’s me, Emma,” she said, sounding tense.

  I slowly sunk down into a kitchen chair, my heart pounding. I missed the kitchen chair and landed on the floor, but I didn’t care. Jackson. The call had to be about Jackson. Something had happened.

  “Is it Jackson? Did something happen?” I whispered.

  “What? Oh, no, no, no,” Emma said, laughing. “I sound so cross because Danny keeps—Danny! Stop it! Not funny! Get off!”

  My shoulders slumped with relief as Emma giggled and shooed Daniel away in the background.

  “Sorry about that. We wanted to invite you over tonight. We’re having our annual Monopoly night. Before you say no or make up an excuse because it sounds incredibly boring, it’s not. We’ve made it a drinking game.”

  I smiled, liking Emma even more. But the thought of watching Jackson make out with Katerina was less than appealing.

  “Just Katerina won’t be here, I promise,” Emma added, reading my thoughts. “I made sure of it.”

  “Oh,” I said, brightening. “Does Jackson know you invited me?”

  “He has nothing to do with the invitation. I got your number when he left his phone lying around. Creepy, I know, but it was easier than asking him. He gets all weird whenever I ask him about you.”

  “He does?” I asked, intrigued. I wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “I’ll be there. What time?”

  Emma told me to be at their house at seven that night. I agreed, trying not to sound too eager, but I was thrilled that I’d get to see Jackson again.

  “Adrian!” Mom yelled, rushing into the kitchen.

  I looked up. I’d left the pancakes sizzling on the stove, and now a small fire raged on top of the burner. So much for not burning kitchens down.

  *

  I arrived at Emma and Daniel’s place a little early that evening, bearing two bottles of merlot. I was terribly nervous and decided that I would flee if Just Katerina did in fact show up. Emma answered the door.

  “Hey, Adrian!” she said with a smile. “Come on in.”

  I entered, looking around for Jackson. Emma shot a glance back at me.

  “Don’t worry, he’s not here yet. Danny’s in the back,” she said, gesturing toward the kitchen. “Sam’s at my mom’s place in Jersey for the night.”

  I headed into the kitchen, holding up the bottles of wine as Daniel turned. He smiled, giving me a quick embrace.

  “Thanks for coming. We’re always trying to recruit players for what we call Drunken Monopoly.”

  “Who else is coming?” I asked, watching as he stacked the wine bottles on the counter.

  “Just Jackson,” Daniel said calmly.

  “Just Jackson?” I repeated, mortified. I had assumed there would be a group of people over like last time. I could easily hide behind a group of people. How was I going to hide my feelings fr
om him now?

  “Is that OK?” Daniel asked, seeming to pick up on my unease.

  “Of course. That’s great,” I said with a smile to hide my sinking feeling.

  Daniel poured three glasses of wine for himself, Emma, and me before leading me out into the living room. I glanced around the comfy living room, spotting a photograph I hadn’t noticed before on the coffee table. It was a photo of Jackson and Daniel as young boys. They looked to be maybe nine or ten. They were dressed in identical bunny suits, their arms around each other, beaming at the camera. I stared at the young Jackson, my heart growing with even more love for him. Despite the obvious silliness of the picture, there was a carefree innocence on his face that I’d never seen on the adult Jackson’s face. What had happened to him that took it all away?

  “Jackson hates that I keep that picture out, but Emma loves it,” Daniel said, noticing my appraisal of the photo. “I could bore you with other more embarrassing photos, but Jackson would kill me.”

  “I’d love to see them,” I blurted before I could stop myself. Daniel looked at me for a moment with raised eyebrows, and I flushed.

  “Embarrassing photos, coming right up,” Daniel said, heading over to a massive bookcase.

  Emma emerged from the back room as Daniel flipped through several photo albums, showing me photos of himself and Jackson in all phases of their boyhood: pictures of Jackson in his diapers (aw!), pictures of Jackson dressed as a sunflower for a recital (hilarious!), Jackson doing a break dance routine in his backyard (cheesy but endearing). I was eager to see any and all of his pictures growing up, to see sides of a Jackson I’d never known. Seeing pictures of him as a child made me feel as if I knew him just a little more.

  When we got to pictures of Jackson in high school, we came across one where he was posed for a prom, standing arm in arm with a petite woman.

  “Danny, maybe we should put these away,” Emma said as I examined the photograph. I looked up at them. Could this be Jackson’s enigmatic wife?

  “What’s going on here?” Jackson’s annoyed voice came from behind us.

  We all turned to face Jackson, who stood at the entrance to the living room with a bottle of wine (sans Just Katerina, thankfully). He was not smiling, and he did not look at all pleased to see me there.

  “And what’s Adrian doing here?” Jackson demanded, looking past me at Emma and Daniel.

  Emma and Daniel looked guilty, and I realized that Jackson had had no idea I would be there. Nor did he want me there, it seemed. I got to my feet.

  “I’ll leave. It’s fine.”

  Jackson didn’t say anything, but Emma got to her feet as well.

  “We consider Adrian a friend, so I invited her,” Emma said defiantly. “And we’re just looking at some old photos.”

  “You all right, man?” Daniel asked, getting to his feet and approaching his brother. Jackson remained tense for a moment before letting his shoulders relax.

  “I’m fine. I just don’t like random people seeing me in my bunny suit when I was nine. Did you show her the sunflower recital one as well?”

  “Of course,” Daniel said. Emma laughed, but I could only manage a tight smile. I was “random people” now?

  “We’ve invited Adrian to become an honorary member of our drunken Monopoly club,” Emma said, stepping forward and linking her arm with Daniel’s.

  “I see,” Jackson said, his eyes finally sliding over to me. I returned his gaze, even though my heart was going a mile a minute. Could he somehow sense how I felt about him by just looking at me?

  Emma and Daniel set up the Monopoly game while Jackson and I moved to the kitchen to arrange the wine and snacks. We worked in edgy silence until I had to say something.

  “Thank Katerina for singing at Dad’s wedding,” I said, as painful as it was to bring up her name. “She has a beautiful voice.”

  “I would if I could,” Jackson said, slicing up a block of provolone cheese and arranging it on a plate. “We broke up.”

  “You broke up?” I echoed, a ripple of glee flowing through me.

  “Just now.”

  “I’m sorry,” I lied as I shouted with joy on the inside. “What happened?”

  “Hmm, now what would you say to me? ‘It’s none of your business,’” Jackson said coldly, turning to face me.

  I stared at him, trying not to show my hurt. I had no idea what I’d done to make him so cold toward me all of a sudden, but love him or not, I was not going to take it.

  “I don’t know what your problem is, Jackson, but you are not going to take whatever’s bothering you out on me. You obviously don’t want me here, so if you’re going to continue to treat me like this, I’m leaving.”

  “Emma invited you. You can stay,” Jackson barked, turning to grab more food out of the fridge.

  “But you don’t want me to stay.”

  “No, I don’t,” he practically shouted, slamming the fridge door shut and facing me with a glare so fierce that I almost backed up. “I wanted to enjoy a quiet evening with my family to discuss some things, and I can’t do that while you’re here. I can’t think straight while you’re around, Adrian.”

  I studied him, my heart hammering wildly, wondering what he meant by that. And I would have asked, but he was looking at me with such dislike that I had to turn away. I was trying to be tough, but Jackson’s harshness toward me was wearing my tenuous grip on emotional strength very thin.

  I turned to head out of the kitchen but Jackson gripped my arm, propelling me back toward him.

  “Adrian,” he began, pulling me in close. Once again, my body reacted to his touch. I stiffened and Jackson released me, but he remained tantalizingly close. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s just—damn it!”

  He took a breath and then stepped forward to take my hands in his. I was baffled and intrigued by his behavior all at once. He opened his mouth several times to say something, but he kept stopping himself.

  “What?” I asked, not caring how desperate I sounded.

  “I’m leaving New York. I’ve been in the process of selling my apartment for a couple of weeks now. That’s one of the reasons Kat and I broke up.”

  “You’re leaving?” I asked, now not caring how broken I sounded.

  I had to turn away from him because of the veil of tears that formed in my eyes. There was no way I was going to let him see how much this hurt me. The pain I felt when Marcus dumped me moments before our wedding felt like a mere blip on my emotional radar compared to this.

  I took a deep breath, turned back to face him, and did the best acting job I could muster.

  “That’s great,” I said. “I’ll miss our bantering, of course. Guess we can’t write any more articles together. Where are you going?”

  “Back to my hometown in Virginia for a little while. Then I think I’ll travel across Europe while I work on another book,” Jackson said, his eyes roving over my face, as if searching for something.

  Virginia. Europe. As far as I was concerned, they were both a million miles away. But I kept my expression and tone neutral, promising myself I would bawl my eyes out the moment I got home.

  “Well, that’s exciting,” I said mildly. “Any reason you decided to leave?”

  “I just need a break,” he said, continuing to search my face. “There’s no reason to stay here.”

  My willpower was amazing. I managed to smile and nod, picking up a platter and heading out to the living room when I just wanted to sob. Jackson had taken the knife that had figuratively been stuck in my heart ever since I realized that I loved him and twisted it several times over. As melodramatic as it would sound, I wanted to tell him that I was worth staying in New York for, that I was in love with him, and to give me a chance even though he didn’t feel the same way. But my pride won out, and I was determined to get through the evening with my game face intact.

  Emma, of course, instantly knew something was up as I arranged the platter on the coffee table.

  “What’s wrong?
”

  “Nothing,” I lied. “I’m just going to use the restroom before we start.”

  “OK,” Emma said, but she still looked worried.

  I brushed past Jackson as he entered, giving him a breezy smile. As soon as I reached the bathroom I locked myself inside and sat on the toilet, burying my head in my knees as I began to cry.

  The silent cry was difficult to pull off, but I had no choice. I felt like I was about to burst. After about five minutes, I took a breath and got to my feet. I rinsed off my face and rummaged through the cabinets to find Visine to clear up my red eyes. I checked myself out in the mirror before swinging open the door and heading back out to the living room to give the acting performance of a lifetime.

  “Let’s play some Monopoly!” I shouted a little too brightly, taking a seat next to Emma, not looking at Jackson or Daniel. “Get ready to lose. I’m a champion at this game.”

  “That’s the type of talk I like to hear,” Daniel said, and he seemed to force a smile as well.

  We played Monopoly, with everyone taking a swig of wine every time someone passed “Go.” I took even more swigs, however, determining that the more buzzed I got, the easier it would be to fake my carefree attitude. I managed to not look at Jackson for the duration of the game, even though I felt his heated gaze on me several times. The game ended when Daniel won the board.

  I finally let myself look up at Jackson. He was staring at me with an uncharacteristically vulnerable expression. I decided in that moment that I’d had enough. I could say anything that was on my mind. Jackson was leaving. I had nothing to lose. I shakily got to my feet.

  “I just wanted to propose a toast,” I said, stifling a belch as I swayed on my feet. “I assume you both know that Jackson will be leaving quite soon.”