by T. K. Leigh
“Just stuff,” I said, trying to shrug her off. “It’s been a busy morning. And I didn’t really sleep well last night…”
“After seeing that newscast about Charlie?” She lowered her voice.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to talk about any of that. How’s everything going with you?”
She bit her lip, almost considering whether to continue our conversation. Her normally jubilant and carefree attitude faded, replaced with an uneasy aura. I knew I needed to be the same kind of friend to her she had been to me for the past eight years. As much as I wanted to tell her about Colleen’s visit and ask her advice on whether I could ever forgive Tyler, I knew Jenna needed to get something off her chest.
“What is it, Jenna? You can tell me.” I got up from behind my desk and sat beside her on the loveseat.
She studied me for a brief moment before sighing, leaning back. “It’s probably nothing, but I can’t stop thinking that…” She trailed off, avoiding my eyes.
“Thinking what?”
Facing me once more, she appeared so small and insecure. “Do you think Richard’s cheating on me?”
“What?!” I asked in complete surprise. I didn’t know what I expected to be worrying her but it certainly wasn’t that. I had never seen another man look at a woman with the amount of devotion and yearning Richard looked at her. If they couldn’t make it, I would lose hope for any couple having a chance. “What makes you think that?”
“You’ll probably think it’s nothing, but all the small things over the past few months have been adding up, culminating this morning. He left early yesterday, claiming he had an emergency at one of his other hotels on the east coast. He assured me he’d be back late last night. When I got home from girls’ night, he wasn’t there. I was worried something happened to him so I called. It rang a few times and then was sent to voicemail, like he was purposely ignoring my call. I finally got a hold of him this morning and heard a woman’s voice in the background. He said he was in the middle of a meeting and things were worse than he was led to believe, but I don’t know. Why didn’t he just call and tell me?”
“Jenna, I think you’re overanalyzing the situation. I know how it is when you’re trying to put out the metaphorical fire. Everything else takes a back seat, including personal relationships.”
She vehemently shook her head. “No. That’s what you do, Mack. That’s not me. And that’s never been Richard, either. At least it wasn’t…” She turned her head briefly before returning her gaze to me. “This has been happening more and more. He used to go out of town once a month at most to personally check in on one of his hotels, but now it seems to be a weekly occurrence. It’s almost like it’s a chore for him to be at home with me.” She studied me for several long moments. I could tell she wasn’t done with her story yet, so I remained silent. Lowering her eyes, she softly said, “I even hired a private investigator.”
“You what?!” I exclaimed, shocked.
She shrugged. “It was about a month ago. I didn’t know what else to do!”
“Why didn’t you come to me with all this before?”
“I couldn’t,” she replied. “You’ve been buried with all your own shit. The last thing I wanted to do was burden you with my problem that may or may not be an actual problem.”
“And what did the private investigator find out?”
“Nothing.”
“So that’s good!”
She shook her head, her motions slow and measured. “No. That’s the problem. He found nothing. There was no record of Richard’s previous marriage or divorce.”
“I’m sure there’s a reason for that. He’s a pretty high profile guy, Jenna. Maybe he didn’t want his name splashed all over the media and paid some people to make his marriage simply disappear. Stop thinking the worst of everything and talk to him about this.”
“I gave him Richard’s ex-wife’s name,” she continued. Her tone grew frenzied and hurried. “He found out she died in a car accident last spring, right before we met. You don’t think…?”
“Jenna,” I said, placing my hand on her shoulder. “That’s crazy. You’re letting your imagination get the better of you. Stop digging into something that’s not there. Richard loves you, plain and simple. That’s all you need to worry yourself with. And if we do find out he’s been cheating, he’ll wish he never stepped foot on South Padre.” I winked, wrapping my arms around her.
She was usually the one to lend me a shoulder to cry on, to bitch and commiserate about whatever was going on in my life. She was never one to appear anything but composed. She appeared so vulnerable now and I hated that I had allowed my best friend to cope with this on her own for the past month. I vowed to never put her through that again. She had always been there for me and I needed to start being here for her, regardless of what was going on in my own life.
“Thanks, Kenzie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Ditto,” I replied, pulling back as she got up from the couch and headed toward the door to my office. “Hey, Jenna?” I called out as she was about to disappear into the hallway.
“Yeah?” She spun around to face me.
Sighing, I met her eyes. “Do you think I’ll ever be able to forgive Tyler for what he’s done?”
Her expression softened a bit and she gave me a sincere look. “I don’t know if I can answer that for you. You gave your heart to Tyler and it’s not easy to get it back. But what I can tell you is what you’re going through right now won’t last forever. With each passing day, you’ll think about him a little bit less. You’ll get back one more piece of your heart and, one day, you’ll wake up and someone else will have taken his place.” She bounced down the hall, leaving me alone.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I whispered to the empty room.
Mackenzie
“WHAT’S A GUY GOT to do to get a great IPA around here?” a soft voice with a beautiful British accent said as I buzzed around the bar, pouring drinks. I could have just as easily hired additional bartenders, but there was something I loved about being behind the bar. Plus, it helped with our overhead to have me work the bar instead of hiring someone else.
I almost replied with one of my typical snarky comments to get him to leave me alone, but as I spun around to open my mouth, I quickly softened my expression. The man standing in front of me was strikingly handsome. He wore a loose-fitting white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a pair of dark jeans, and flip flops. His sandy hair had a windblown look about it¸ his forearms muscled and tan.
Smiling, I simply said, “All you have to do is order one.” I grabbed a pint glass and poured one of the IPAs from the tap. “Hope you like this one.” I put the glass down in front of him. “Harvested and brewed right here in the fine state of Texas.”
“I’m starting to think there’s a lot to enjoy in Texas.”
My ears heated from his stare and I felt my face begin to blush. I hadn’t allowed myself to flirt with another man in months, not wanting to put in the effort. I knew this wouldn’t go anywhere, but maybe it was exactly what I needed to make me shake off all the memories of Tyler that still found me nearly every day.
“I’m Ellis,” he said, reaching his hand across the bar. I grabbed onto it lightly and he raised it to his lips, kissing it softly. The contact on my skin was dull. Even when Tyler wasn’t touching me, I was ready to fall apart. My body was always hyper-aware of him…his presence, his caress, his gaze. With this guy, I felt absolutely nothing. No spark. No flame. No lightning. Nothing. And it made me long for my mystery man even more, although he was no longer mine.
“Mackenzie,” I said, finally snapping out of my daydream.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mackenzie.”
“Well, I should get going. Lots of customers to get drunk and…” I scanned the area to see the other bartenders had it well under control.
“And…?” He narrowed his dark eyes on me and I shrugged, knowing he had caught me in my excuse to end our con
versation. An understanding look crossed his face and he leaned on the counter. “I get it. It’s a bit cheeky, isn’t it? Trying to pick up a girl at a bar?”
I eyed him. “A bit, especially when you don’t even live here.”
“What makes you think that?” He smiled, flashing a set of perfectly straight white teeth, made brighter against his tanned skin.
“Call it a hunch. That accent seems to be a dead giveaway that you’re not local.”
He shrugged. “Or I could have left mother England because of a better business opportunity.”
“So which is it?”
“The latter.” He winked, and I could have sworn I felt a slight fluttering in my heart.
“So what is it that you do, Ellis?” I asked, crossing my arms.
“Oh, a little bit of this. A little bit of that.”
I rolled my eyes. “Nice. How about a little bit more detail, though.”
“I’m not a criminal or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not worried about that. I’m just wondering what it is you do for a living, how you support yourself… See, this is what Americans would refer to as an icebreaker, some sort of conversation to find out about one another.”
He studied me briefly. “I’m an applications developer for a company up in Houston.”
“And what does that mean?”
“Computer stuff.”
“Ah,” I said. “So you’re a computer geek.”
He took a sip of his beer. “More or less, but that’s just something I do on the side.”
“Oh, really?” I raised my eyebrows and gave him a playful look. “What’s your real job then?”
“I’m a professional poker player.”
“Poker?” I swallowed hard, my voice becoming quiet.
“Yeah. You know. Poker… It’s a card game. Placing bets… Going all in…”
Those last words hit me, making it feel as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. This conversation was yet another reminder that moving on wasn’t in the cards for me. The sounds of the bar grew muddled and became background noise as I was whisked back to that day.
“I’m a broken man.” Tyler leaned his forehead on mine and lovingly caressed my face as we sat in the front seat of my Mercedes, the March sun beating down on us.
“Everyone’s broken in one way or another, Tyler.”
“Not like me. Some days, I feel like I’m barely hanging on. But I haven’t since I met you. For the past six years, all I’ve felt is pain. I know this sounds crazy but, whenever I’m with you, I find meaning in that pain.” He held my face in his hands, but I remained speechless, his impassioned words overwhelming me.
“So whatever this is and whatever it’s going to be, know that I’m all in, Mackenzie. You have enchanted my heart and, for the first time in years, I feel alive, even when I’m not with you. I know we just met and I’ll be the first to admit I wasn’t expecting to be so captivated by you.” He took a deep breath. “But I am. I am unimaginably bewitched by you. I’m all in, Mackenzie.”
The memory was so vivid, so sharp, as if it was happening at that moment. I remembered precisely what he was wearing…a yellow polo shirt and jeans that fit him perfectly. His green eyes were brilliant but scared. What I didn’t see as I relived this memory was a lack of sincerity. It covered him, from the way his fiery gaze burned into me to the way he caressed my skin. Even early on, I could sense he didn’t say those words just to get information. They were true. I couldn’t help but think about what else was true.
“Mackenzie,” Ellis’ voice cut through, bringing me out of my memory. “Where did you go?”
“Sorry. I was just thinking about something.” I grabbed a towel and began to wipe down the counter. “I need to get back to work. Enjoy your beer, Ellis.”
I heard him call my name as I rushed from behind the bar, through the busy restaurant, and up to my office, struggling to breathe. Even after all the times I had tried to convince myself, I knew I wasn’t over Tyler Burnham. I doubted whether I ever would be.
~~~~~~~~~~
THAT NIGHT, I TOSSED and turned for hours, a thousand thoughts running through my head. I had kept my true feelings buried for months, forbidden from communicating what was going through my mind to the one person who needed to know. I had let it all fester, but it wasn’t until I met another man who seemed to be interested in me that I realized how messed up I still was. I was desperate for closure, to finally tell him what I was feeling…even if it fell on deaf ears.
Rummaging through my bag, I grabbed my laptop and booted it up. I typed in the email address I had for Tyler and hovered over the keyboard for what seemed like an eternity, my hands shaking at the prospect of him reading this. I needed him to know how much his lies hurt me. I needed him to feel my pain. I couldn’t shoulder it all on my own anymore.
The words I had thought on a daily basis for the past several months filtered from my head to the laptop, the visualization of weeks of pent up feelings therapeutic and soothing the fire within.
I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to do.
Worse, I don’t know who I am.
Maybe I never did.
It’s past three o’clock in the morning and I can’t sleep. I’m exhausted, run down.
Heartbroken.
The fact you lied to me isn’t what hurts now. I’ve stopped feeling the pain from that. It’s knowing no one can replace you. It’s knowing I’ll search for someone else to give my heart to for the rest of my life and never find him.
It’s knowing lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice.
It’s knowing you’re my turtledove.
It’s knowing I’m through.
I met a guy tonight. An attractive, charming man. He made me smile. He made me laugh. He made me forget about everything for a minute.
But I felt nothing…because of you.
I felt no butterflies.
I felt no spark.
I felt no lightning strike.
Because. Of. You.
It’s been nearly four months.
One hundred and ten days, to be exact.
When I first met you, I had a feeling you would be the one person who could break down my walls. I knew you’d be the one to make me feel, something no one has been able to do for years. But I also knew you’d be the one to ruin me. You told me as much. I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to think something so evil, so hurtful, so ugly could come out of something I thought was so fucking beautiful.
And that was my love.
I loved you, Tyler. Unconditionally. Completely. Wholeheartedly.
But you deceived me. Because of that, I should be over you. Since you’ve been gone, I’ve done everything I could to convince myself I don’t care about you. That I’m over you. That I hate you. That I despise everything about you.
I should, ya know.
I should hate the way you looked in your tuxedo the night you asked me to marry you.
I should hate the way my name used to roll off your tongue and make me shiver.
I should hate the way you used to snore.
I should hate the way you used to smile at me unlike the way you smiled at anyone else.
I should hate the way you used to wrap your arms around me and make me feel like I finally had a home.
I should hate the way you used to make me laugh.
I should hate the way you used to make me feel alive.
You did everything right. You said exactly what I needed to hear when I needed to hear it. You made me fall in love with you. You took my love from me, and I’ll never be able to get it back. I’ll never be able to give anyone else all my love. I’ll never be able to experience that unmistakable feeling of absolute euphoria just from being around them. For that, I should forget about you.
The truth is, no matter how much I say I’m over you, you’re still on my mind.
The truth is, desp
ite it all, I don’t hate you.
The truth is, despite it all, you made me feel, and I’d rather have felt something so fucking intense for you than to never have that memory at all.
The truth is, despite it all, I still love you. And I always will.
Seeing the words on the screen in front of me made the tears streaming down my cheeks fall with more intensity. My sobs wracked through my body, and I could barely see the screen through my fuzzy vision. Choking on my own cries, I hovered the mouse over the SEND button.
Could I really do this? Could I really send this email? Would it make me feel any better? Would it make the heartache hurt less?
Would he even get it?
Would he even care?
When you hit rock bottom, there’s nowhere else to go but up. I was at rock bottom. I was at the lowest of any low I could remember. Since leaving Tyler, there had been a permanent ache in my chest, which had only grown more intense over the days and months with no communication from him.
Realizing I had nothing to lose by sending it, I clicked on the button, the whooshing sound of my email being sent causing me to immediately regret the decision. My heart thumped in my chest and I prayed for a message telling me the email was undeliverable, but that never happened.
The rest of the night, I stayed awake, waiting for an answer.
I didn’t know why I expected one.
I didn’t know why I hoped for one.
But I did.
I never got one.
Tyler
“DROP YOUR ELBOW JUST a little,” I instructed a Sudanese boy, who couldn’t have been more than ten, as he stood next to a makeshift home plate. “Keep your eye on the ball. Then knock it out of the park.”
“Like Fenway Park?” the little boy asked in a thick African accent.
I laughed. “Exactly.”
“I’m Babe Ruth then?”
“No. Definitely not. He’s a traitor who went to play for the Yankees.”