Perfectly Lonely: (Let Me In, Book 2)

by Marin, Jessica

  Perfectly Lonely

  (Let Me In, Book 2)

  Jessica Marin

  Copyright © 2018 by Jessica Marin

  Cover Design by Najla Qamber Designs.

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Layla

  2. Layla

  3. Layla

  4. Chase

  5. Layla

  6. Chase

  7. Layla

  8. Chase

  9. Layla

  10. Chase

  11. Layla

  12. Layla

  13. Chase

  14. Layla

  15. Chase

  16. Layla

  17. Layla

  18. Chase

  19. Layla

  20. Chase

  21. Layla

  22. Layla

  23. Chase

  24. Layla

  25. Chase

  26. Layla

  27. Chase

  28. Layla

  29. Chase

  30. Layla

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Edge of Desire

  Also by Jessica Marin

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Prologue

  LAYLA

  It was a beautiful, sunny day when I met you at college orientation.

  It was a beautiful, sunny day when we got married on the beach of Sanibel Island.

  It was a beautiful, sunny day when you gave me the last kiss goodbye before going out with friends on a boat on Lake Michigan.

  And it was a beautiful, sunny day on the day I buried you.

  As I sit here visiting your grave on the anniversary of your death, I look up at the sky to find it another beautiful, sunny day.

  I feel that days like today are a big fuck you to people like me. People who have unfairly had loved ones taken from them and are expected to have dispositions that match the weather when blessed with such beautiful days. Any happiness I show the world is mostly a façade, because on the inside I’m still completely gutted that you aren’t here with me anymore. Doesn’t matter that it’s been years since the last time you touched me. People say that time heals all wounds and it’ll get easier, but my anger hasn’t dissipated.

  We were only married for two years.

  We never even had our chance to have children.

  Everyone says it was a horrible tragedy. An accident that no one could have predicted. You were just enjoying the lake when another boat collided with yours. Out of all the people on both boats, you were the only one who didn’t make it back.

  And I still want to know why.

  Why were you taken from me?

  What lesson was I supposed to learn from this?

  Because I fell in love with you the first moment you shined that blinding smile at me. I treasured and cherished every day we were together. I was thankful for you in my life, never once taking advantage of you or our life together.

  Some days, I wake up feeling like I’m in a horrible nightmare. It’s all a cruel joke. That I’m being punished, but for what, I don’t know. Instead of remembering our good times together, I’m drowning in my bitterness toward a love I feel was wasted.

  If you met the person that I’ve become since your death, you wouldn’t even glance in my direction. To fill the void of your loss, I’ve thrown myself into work and when that’s done, I drink to become numb before having mindless sex with strangers. Strangers who I hoped would make me feel again, but none of them come close to you. So I let them fuck me — the harder, the better — waiting to actually feel something again. And after it’s all done, I convince myself that I imagined it all, that I would never do what I just did, until I lose consciousness from consuming too much alcohol.

  But even I recognize that I’m letting my life spin out of control. That moment of realization came when I was standing in line at a fast food restaurant and I caught the attention of a guy checking me out. When you were alive, his lewd stare would have classified him as sleazy. But I met his gaze, gave him an encouraging smile, engaged him in conversation and then proceeded to fuck him in the backseat of his car. As soon as he drove away, I threw up in the bushes and called my best friend, Jenna, crying hysterically at what a disgusting human being I’ve become. She dropped everything and met me at the apartment you and I once shared. She hugged me while I cried out all of my regrets, never once scolding or judging me. Instead, she cried with me and told me I was going to be okay.

  If only I could believe her.

  I know this isn’t the life you would want me to lead. You tell me that every time you visit me in my dreams. Those dreams, the ones I love and loathe at the same time, because I wake up to what reality is for me now.

  An empty life without you.

  I stab at the angry tears streaming down my face and look behind me at Jenna sitting in her car, waiting. She always meets me here on the anniversary of your death. Despite her hatred for cemeteries, she does it for me and out of respect for you, whom she loved like a brother. She has experienced her own share of heartbreak and even though I’ve considered a second attempt at joining you in heaven, I’ve realized that she needs me more. Jenna now has a beautiful daughter and has embarked on another journey in love that will not be easy for her.

  But when has love ever been easy for anyone?

  Sighing, I kiss the grass above you and get up to depart. I look at your headstone one last time before I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and slowly exhale out the silent promises I make to you.

  I promise to make better choices for myself.

  I promise to start loving myself again.

  I promise to be a better role model to Avery, our beautiful goddaughter that Jenna so crazily trusts me with.

  I promise to start making you proud again, Charlie.

  I turn around and walk back to the car, praying that I can keep my promises.

  1

  Layla

  Present Day

  “Where to, miss?” the cab driver asks as I shut the door after entering his car. I blink rapidly to try to clear the fog of tiredness that is clouding my brain. I just got off the red eye flight from a business trip to Los Angeles and I’m so happy to be back home in my beloved city of Chicago. I glance at my watch to see it’s seven in the morning. I should try to get some sleep before working on my report about the trip. Instead I give the cab driver Jenna’s address, deciding to spend the morning with my two favorite people. Jenna has been by herself with Avery while her boyfriend and father of her child, Hollywood actor Cal Harrington, has been shooting his latest movie in Thailand. I’ve been trying to stay with her as much as I can, being a good best friend and godmother by helping out during a trying time in her new relationship. But if I’m being honest with myself, the real reason is because I don’t want to be alone.

  The first few years after my husband’s death, I relished in being alone. I didn’t have to pretend to be okay. I didn’t have to smile when I didn’t feel like smiling. I could be free to wallow in my self-pity and anger toward his death. I didn’t want to see anyone and the only person I allowed in on a constant basis was Jenna. Not that I had a choice in the matter. She bulldozed her way in
to my life every single day after Charlie died. If she didn’t see me in person, then she was constantly texting or calling. If I didn’t answer her back in a timely manner, she was on my door step, especially after I deliberately overdosed on pills a couple of months after his passing. I believed my life had no meaning to it anymore, and therefore, no sense in living if he wasn’t going to be in it with me. So in my drunken state, I swallowed as many Xanax as I could, chasing them down with a bottle of vodka. When I woke up the next day in the hospital, Jenna’s face was the first to come into focus. She was sitting next to the bed, her thumb softly rubbing the skin on top of my hand that didn’t have an IV in it. Her eyes were bloodshot and wild looking — a combination of sorrow and despair raging in them. That look still haunts me, but it was her first words to me that are on constant repeat when my thoughts turn dark:

  “Don’t you ever think of leaving me again!”

  I shake my head to clear the shame and guilt from the memories of that day and try to focus my thoughts on my current situation — how I hate the loneliness I feel when I’m in my apartment and the disgust for my job. I work for a premium spirits and wine company in the sponsorship department. I started out as a brand manager, supplying local customers with our liquors for their establishments. Charlie and I were a very social couple, so it was fun to have him and our friends meet up at one of my client’s bars for drinks after work. But after Charlie died, I needed a distraction. I applied for a position in the sponsorship department, knowing that the new job required heavy traveling to land big accounts and set up VIP parties around the country using our alcohol. It was exactly what I needed — or so I thought. I needed to get away from my apartment where the memories of Charlie were everywhere. I needed to get away from the city and especially away from the pity still deeply rooted in people’s eyes. Everyone thought I was moving on with my life when they heard I got the promotion. What they weren’t witnessing was my self-destructing behavior. How I created an online dating account so while I was away in other cities for work, I could pretend to be someone I wasn’t. How I used alcohol and strange men to take me away from my reality.

  I’ve been trying really hard to keep the promises that I made to Charlie at his gravesite during my last visit. The first couple of weeks were rough, with my body going through detox as I banished alcohol and started seeing a grief counselor. I decided to take time off of work and spent it with Jenna, Avery and Robert, Jenna’s assistant and our good friend. They distract me from my darkness. They make me feel safe. Most importantly, they make me feel happy and loved. When I’m with them, I feel like myself. But I know I can’t keep relying on them to make myself feel happy and whole again. I need to be able to do it all on my own. I need to be strong enough to fight my own demons. Unfortunately, my job places me in unhealthy environments that feed those demons. This trip to Los Angeles was my first work trip in a while, so I strategically made sure to schedule client satisfactory meetings during the daytime, but there were two sponsored parties I couldn’t ignore. For once in a very long time, I didn’t want to go nor be involved in any work events. The first party I stayed at for two hours and immediately left when I felt myself wanting to drink more than one drink. The second party was more of an eye opening experience, as it seems I’ve created a reputation for myself when the very married and unattractive manager of the venue reminded me that the last time I was there, I gave him a blow job in the men’s bathroom.

  And he wanted a repeat performance.

  Filled with shame and guilt, I immediately left and went straight to my hotel room where I proceeded to throw up from the realization that I’d been involved with a married man. After I composed myself, I updated my resume and started my search for a new career. The next day I woke up actually feeling good about myself and my future, a feeling I haven’t had since Charlie’s death. I was proud of myself for staying sober in those types of environments and not reverting to my old ways. I’m excited to tell Jenna and Robert, as I know they will be relieved to hear that I was strong enough to take care of myself. They were worried about how I was going to handle myself on this trip.

  As the beautiful Chicago skyline comes into view, I realize that I forgot to text Jenna that I was on my way. I pull out my phone to send her a message.

  Me: Hey Hooch, not only have I already landed, but I’m ten minutes away from your doorstep. Surprise! So here’s your warning that breakfast better be ready for me, little lady!

  Jenna: (middle finger emoji)

  I can’t help the snort that escapes with my laughter as I can picture her rolling her eyes and flipping me the bird.

  And for once in a very long time, I’m excited to be back home.

  2

  Layla

  “Jen-na!” I scream obnoxiously from inside the shower. “Can you please bring me my toiletries?”

  I stick my head out and look around her bathroom while I wait for her, marveling at the fact that she shares this tiny space with Cal, who’s a large man. Granted, he has only been living here for less than a year — when he’s in town - but still, he would easily take up the majority of this bathroom with his hard muscled body. Jenna was blessed by inheriting this condo on Lake Michigan from her grandmother before she got married. She remodeled it when she divorced her ex-husband and it has been the perfect place for her and Avery. But with Cal in her life now, I can’t imagine them living comfortably in this place for very long.

  The object of my thoughts comes into the bathroom, confusion written on her face. “First off, can you please not scream? My neighbors already hate me from the chaos the paparazzi brings into their lives. Secondly, my shower is stocked with plenty of necessities. Why do you need your stuff?”

  “I love you for trying to lead a healthier lifestyle, but I’ll take my toxic shampoo over your non-toxic, doesn’t-do-shit-for-my-hair shampoo any day of the week,” I say, giving her a sweet smile. “So please, can you get my stuff?”

  She rolls her eyes and turns on her heel, mumbling about not understanding why I’m showering before going to work out anyway. Being on an airplane makes me feel gross, so I always take a shower afterwards, no matter where my next destination might be, including a work out.

  Jenna returns with my bag, opens it up and starts handing me my requested items. “Here are your chemically laced shampoo and conditioner. Will you be needing this as well?” She holds up my vibrator, a twinkle in her eye and an evil grin playing across her lips.

  “Why Jenna, I didn’t know you enjoy the smell of cum juice all over your hands,” I joke, anticipating her reaction.

  “Eew!” she shrieks and drops my beloved battery operated boyfriend. Fortunately it falls on the bathroom rug and not on the tile.

  “Hey, be careful with that!” I protest, not wanting to make another visit to the adult pleasure store since I was just there two weeks ago.

  “What is cum juice, Mommy?”

  “Ah!” Jenna and I scream simultaneously, startled by the sight of the little ninja that is her daughter. Avery has a horrible habit of quietly coming into a conversation at the most inappropriate moments. Last week she conveniently overheard Robert telling us about his recent encounter with a butt plug on one of his dates.

  “I think you need to put a bell on her, Jenna,” I say, closing shower curtain so Avery doesn’t get scarred for life by the sight of my double E boobs.

  “Avery, you have got to stop sneaking up on people like that!” Jenna scolds as she quickly picks up my vibrator and throws it into my bag.

  “I don’t see any juice anywhere, Mommy,” Avery says, looking around the bathroom counters. “Is it in the refrigerator? Can I try some?”

  “No, Avery, that’s a special juice for adults only. Ask your daddy as I’m sure it’s his favorite kind of juice.” I peek my head out to look at Jenna, wiggling my eyebrows up and down with a knowing smile.

  “Layla!” Jenna exclaims angrily and I know I’m going to hear an earful from her once we are alone again.

>   “Is that juice like the adult drinks that you and Daddy drink, Mommy? I can’t wait to be an adult so I can have some too!” Avery says with a lot of excitement in her sweet, little voice.

  “I can’t believe this conversation is even happening. Let’s get ready for school, Avery,” Jenna grumbles, trying to change the subject.

  “I am ready for school, Mommy!” I hear Avery say as Jenna leads her out of the bathroom.

  I smile and shake my head, still in disbelief that this is now Jenna’s life. Never in a million years would I’ve ever guessed that Jenna would end up with a Hollywood actor, let alone have a child with him. Their relationship started out unconventional and is still fragile from all of the lies and deceit that they both have endured. It has been an emotional roller coaster ride for Jenna and I’m still praying for her to finally have a happy ending. Despite her seeming to be happy, I still carry guilt for how I betrayed her.

  Because I’m the reason her secret of having Cal Harrington’s baby was publicly revealed.

  3

  Layla

  “Alright fearless leader, where are you taking us today on our adventure?” I ask after we drop Avery off at school. Jenna’s routine is to work out immediately after drop off and then go home, shower, and begin her work day until she has to pick Avery up. I swear she is superwoman, as I don’t know how she functions sometimes with her schedule. I’m usually completely useless directly after a workout.