“Josh, thank you. You’re a godsend right now.”
“No worries.” He winks.
I cry at the sight and he dashes over and crouches before me. “Are you sure you want to be alone?”
“Yeah, it’s just that saying “no worries” and winking was kind of his thing. It brought back memories.”
“Noted. I won’t say or do that again.”
“I’m such a mess.” I sniffle and wipe my face with the hem of my shirt.
“Yeah, but at least you’re pretty when you cry. I turn into Willem Dafoe when I cry.”
I laugh a real laugh. It feels really good. But in no time whatsoever I’m right back being a blubbering mess.
I spend the next two hours staring at my phone dreading Rooter’s possible call. It wasn’t too long ago that I used to stare at it hoping he’d call me. Things have changed a lot in such a short period of time.
In a way, I’m curious as to what happened when Bear told him. He obviously didn’t believe him right away or he would’ve called me by now. He undoubtedly went to confront Candace, which I imagine he’s already done. He’s had plenty of time to do it by now. That I haven’t heard from him gives me hope that maybe I won’t. Perhaps he’s come to the same conclusion as me.
It doesn’t change anything. What’s done is done.
Or maybe he knows better than to reach out to me now.
No, that wouldn’t be it. If Rooter wanted to talk to me nothing would stop him from calling.
My phone pings with a text from Miranda: I’m watching Rooter toss that slut’s shit out of his house. Bear’s making sure he doesn’t kill her.
Well, that answers my question. I stare at my phone unable to come up with a reply when my phone pings again with a text from her: Are you there, Soph?
Me: Yeah. I just don’t know what to say. I’m glad he knows the truth, but it doesn’t change anything.
Fifteen minutes later my phone rings. It’s Rooter. My heart races and I can barely breathe as I stare at the screen. I can’t make myself answer. I can’t talk to him. The phone rings until it goes to voicemail. He calls right back.
I still can’t answer. The sound of his voice will kill me. It goes to voicemail again. A minute later I get a notification of a voicemail followed by a text. I don’t listen to the voicemail, but I read the text.
Rooter: Please answer. I know you have ur phone. I saw ur text to Miranda. Sophie, I’m so so so so so sorry. Please talk to me.
I text him back before I even know what I’m doing: I can’t talk to you. Not right now. I need time.
My phone rings. It’s him. He’s not going to give me time because he knows it won’t work out in his favor if he does. He wants to get me to talk to him while I’m emotional. While there’s still a chance I’ll give into him. I lay the phone on the sofa and stare at his name on the screen as it continues to ring. He texts again.
Rooter: I’ll just keep calling and texting until u answer.
Of course he will. I grit my teeth and pound my reply on the screen: I’ll block your number.
Rooter: I’ll get another phone, and then another, and then another. Just answer and talk to me.
He’s serious. He will get one phone after another until I talk to him. I shake my head exasperated and respond to his threat: I’ll change my number. Leave me alone.
Rooter: Just hear me out and if u still want me to leave u alone, I promise I will.
Me: I can’t.
Rooter: I don’t want to do this, but if u don’t answer I’ll be at the Grand tomorrow when u get there. Either way, we’re talking. We can either do it now on the phone or tomorrow in person. U pick. If u don’t call I’ll assume u want to talk in person.
It isn’t like Rooter to stir up trouble at a person’s job, but he’s desperate to talk so I know he’ll follow through with his threat. I must go to work tomorrow so that leaves me with one choice. I swallow, inhale a deep breath to steel myself, and call his number.
“Baby, I’m so sorry.” His voice is shaky and contrite.
It takes everything I have not to cry at the sound of him calling me baby. “Rooter, this doesn’t change anything.”
“How can you say that? It changes everything.”
I shake my head and fold my leg underneath me. I can’t get comfortable. “No, it doesn’t. What happened still happened. I scared her and she fell down the stairs. If she had been pregnant, she could’ve lost the baby and you’d still hate me.”
“But she wasn’t pregnant, babe. She set us up. This is all her fault,” his voice cracks. “I never hated you.”
“Yes, you did.” I recall the look on his face when he told me he never wanted to see me again. That he could never love me. “I saw it in your eyes. I heard it in your voice. You meant it when you said you never wanted to see me again.”
“Babe, I was mad. I lost it and said things I didn’t mean.”
Rooter doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean. I decide to challenge him. “Let me ask you something. This morning, before you found out the truth, how did you feel? Did you hate me this morning?”
He’s quiet a moment. “This morning, I was still grieving the loss of a child, but I’ve missed you every second you’ve been gone.”
His voice sounds so sincere and I long to believe him, but I can’t. “You moved on rather quickly for someone who misses me. You moved her in the very next day.”
“It wasn’t like that, Sophie. She was staying in the guest room. I was helping her recuperate and get back on her feet.”
I hate that this makes me feel better. I must stick to my conviction. “Too much damage has been done. There’s no coming back from this.”
He chokes. He’s crying. “No baby, don’t say that. I can make this right. I can fix it. I’ll do whatever you say. Just come home.”
I can’t hold back my tears any longer. “Rooter, do you care about me?”
“Baby, I love you so much that it’s breaking me in two.” It sounds like his entire body is shaking. “And you love me.”
“If you love me, let me go.” I’m crying so hard I can barely get the words out and they turn into a whisper. “Please just let me go.”
I listen to him cry for several long moments. “That’s what you really want?”
It’s not what I want at all. “It’s what I need.”
“I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’ll never forgive myself.”
I know he’s sorry. But it doesn’t change anything. “I have to go. Goodbye, Rooter.”
“Goodbye, Sophie.”
Chapter 46
Seeing Things
Three days have passed since my conversation with Rooter and he hasn’t attempted to contact me once. The tone of his voice when he said goodbye told me I wouldn’t hear from him again. I asked him to let me go and that’s what he has done. I did the right thing. But it doesn’t make it any easier. The finality has hit me like a boulder falling from the sky. There’s no going back. Rooter and I are done.
But I can’t stop thinking about him. I constantly try to picture what he’s doing at different times of the day. Does he still wake up at six every morning for work? Does he still exercise after work like he always did on the days I work? Is he back to running first thing in the morning? Miranda told me he’s become reclusive. He goes to work, goes home, takes care of Dopey and that’s about it. Bear tried to get him to have drinks with him last night and he refused.
About an hour after that last conversation with Rooter, Miranda called me freaking out. Bear heard a ruckus and went to check on him. Apparently he obliterated his house. It was an ugly scene. He smashed a bunch of dishes, threw some tables and chairs, one of which went through a window. As bad as it sounds, knowing he’s hurting as much as me makes me feel better. It’s a retribution of sorts.
Ryan has been a saving grace for me. He finds ridiculous ways to make me smile and has even managed to get a few laughs out of me. The poor guy has next to no life now because he spends all his time wi
th me trying to keep my spirits up.
This morning we hit a flea market for the hell of it. He thinks it’ll be a fun hobby for us to find old furniture to refurbish and sell online. An idea he came up with watching the home and garden channel a couple nights ago.
I told him I’d rather hit the gym and punch my frustrations away, but he thinks that isn’t a good idea since I’m hardly eating. It’s not on purpose. I just can’t remember to eat. It’s like my hunger switch is turned off. So he watches the clock and makes sure I eat at the appropriate times. If we’re not together he texts me a reminder. His way to motivate me to eat was by playing on my small boob insecurity. He said, “If you don’t eat you’ll lose what little boob you have and once they’re gone, they never come back.” It almost worked.
Miranda, God love her, has tried to be supportive. She calls and texts regularly to check on me. But every time we talk she ends up telling me how bad Rooter’s doing and that she really believes now Candace is out of the picture he and I’d be happy. Yes, Candace was our only real problem, but that doesn’t undo the damage that’s been done. Every time I close my eyes I still see him glaring at me with pure, utter hatred.
Since Sundays are the only day Ryan and I have off together we decide to go out and have a good time. He thinks I need to start living like a normal twenty-something. So we’re headed to the Red Door for dancing and drinks. Josh is coming along and I’ve invited Abby since she lost her job and doesn’t have anywhere to be in the morning.
By my third drink the Rooter sightings start. Abby and I are out on the dance floor when I swear I see his cut by the front door. I stop dancing, shake my head and try to focus, but it’s gone.
“You okay?” Abby asks.
“Yeah,” I say and resume dancing. “Just thought I saw something.”
I look to the spot where Rooter and I danced and am hit by a wave of new memories from that night. I remember being in his bed and him kissing me and the way he stared at me with lust filled eyes as I gave him the lap dance. Stop thinking of him, Sophie. I shake my head again trying to clear my mind.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I tell her. I need to splash some cold water on my face.
“I’ll come with.”
On our way to the bathroom I see a guy go around the corner in the back of the bar and swear I see Rooter’s tattoo on his arm.
“Did you see that?” I ask Abby.
“See what?”
“That guy go around the corner.” I point in the direction of what I saw.
“I didn’t see anyone,” she giggles. “I think you should switch to beer.”
“You’re probably right.”
In the bathroom I splash water on my face and tell myself Rooter isn’t here. It’s all in my head because I miss him so much and this place holds memories for us. But on our way back to the booth I scan the area for him. He isn’t here, just like I already knew.
Ryan catches on to my funk and insists on another drink and more dancing. After downing a shot of Jack he drags me to the dance floor. Ryan is a ridiculously good dancer. Josh follows us out to the floor and the two of them dance together. I wave for Abby to come out and dance with me, but she’s chatting it up with a not so attractive guy.
I start to walk off of the dance floor but am stopped when a warm hand clasps my arm. My heart skips a beat. It’s silly, but the first thought I have is that it’s Rooter. He really has been here watching me this entire time and can’t help himself. He has to talk to me. But when I turn around, it’s not him. The cute guy asks if I want to dance. I turn him down. There’s only one guy I want to dance with. If I can’t dance with him, I don’t want to dance at all.
As we’re leaving the bar a car pulls out of the parking lot. It happens so fast, but it looks like the driver has a tattoo on his arm like Rooter’s. But his hair is longer. And Rooter hates cars. He definitely wouldn’t be driving a little girly car.
The next morning while I’m nursing a monstrous hangover my phone rings. When I see the number I feel a pang in my chest. It’s Camilla.
“Hello?”
“I hope it’s okay that I’m calling.”
“It’s fine.” I adjust the wet rag on my forehead.
“How are you doing, sweetie?”
“I’ve been better.” In more ways than one. I swear I’m never drinking again. If Rooter had been with me he would’ve seen to it that I ate and took ibuprofen before I went to bed. Dammit Sophie, stop thinking about him.
“I’ve been worried about you. This whole thing with Candace. I’m flabbergasted.”
“Me, too,” I sigh. I really don’t want to talk about her.
“What my son did to you, the things he said, were awful. He should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt.”
“Yes, but he didn’t.” And I don’t want to talk about that either.
“I’m going to sound like one of those annoying mom’s begging you to forgive her boy. But, is there no way you can try?”
“Camilla…” I sit up. I need to brace myself for the rest of this conversation. “So much damage has been done.”
“I know, baby, I know. But is there anything he can do? Because he’ll do it.”
I shake my head, and immediately regret it because it makes the throbbing even worse. “What’s done is done.”
“Do you still love Jace?”
Her use of his given name catches me off-guard. I don’t bother to lie. “Yes.”
“He loves you so much Sophie. He hates himself. He was here for a little while yesterday. Barely ate. Barely spoke. I’ve never seen him this bad. My boy cried in front of me and he has never cried in front of me.”
“I’m sorry this is hurting you.” I put the wet rag around my neck. “But, no, I really don’t think there’s anything he can ever say or do to fix this.”
That’s not true. If he showed up right now and asked me to take him back, I would. In a heartbeat. I miss him and love him too much not to. Which is why it’s a good thing he hasn’t tried. If I tell her, she’ll tell him and then he will try. I don’t need that. It’s hard enough to stay away.
“When he left here yesterday, I was scared. For the first time in my life, I was scared for him. I wanted him to stay, but he said he couldn’t be here without you. He said he couldn’t be anywhere without you.”
All I can think about as I’m walking out of the pharmacy an hour later is my talk with Camilla. That woman really knows how to play on one’s feelings. She didn’t mean any harm. She genuinely believes Rooter and I belong together and thinks we’ll both be happier if we get back together. Perhaps she’s right, but I can’t ignore everything that happened.
As I open my car door I see a car exactly like the one from the bar. At least I think it is. I was pretty drunk so I can’t be sure. There doesn’t appear to be anyone in it. Get a grip, Sophie. Rooter is not following you. I can’t get over how entirely hung up I am on the guy. It’s ridiculous.
But later that night, I see what appears to be the exact same car parked across the street when Ryan and I are leaving work.
“I’ve been seeing that car since last night.” I point at the shiny, silver vehicle.
“It’s not him, Soph.” He unlocks the car and we both climb in. “There’s a million of those cars. They’re like the most popular car right now.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
“I am.” He starts the car and puts it in reverse. “Can you actually picture Rooter driving one of those?”
“No, I can’t. I’m just losing my mind.” I stare the car down as we pull out of the parking lot. “I miss him.”
“I know you do.”
I see a similar car five times over the next two days and each time it’s either a young girl or old woman driving. Rooter definitely hasn’t been following me around in one of them. I’m just sad and completely pathetic.
Wednesday night rolls around and Ryan’s at work. Miranda calls to invite me out to dinner with her and Bear. I’m ho
nest when I decline and tell her it’d be too hard to be a third wheel with Rooter’s best friend. She says she understands, but she misses me so we make plans to do a little shopping together on Sunday.
I put a bag of popcorn in the microwave and pour myself a soda when there’s a knock on the front door. I look at the clock. It’s after nine. Who would be here at this time of night? Rooter would definitely show up at this time of night. But I know it’s not him.
I walk to the door and look through the peephole. I gasp and smack my hand over my mouth when I see who is standing on the other side.
Chapter 47
Stay With Me
This cannot be happening. My shock sends me stumbling backwards and I nearly fall to the floor.
“I know you’re in there,” Mike taunts. His slow speech tells me he’s either drunk or high or worse yet, both. “I could see you in the kitchen from the street when I pulled up. Looked like you were making popcorn. You know how much I love popcorn.”
What should I do? Should I respond? I run to the kitchen counter, grab my phone and call the first person I think of.
“Sophie?” Rooter answers on the first ring. He sounds so happy that I’m calling.
“Mike’s here,” I whisper. “I’m scared.”
Mike beats on the door. “It’s really rude to leave me out here! Open the damn door!”
“Oh my God, he’s kicking the door.” I stand frozen, staring at the door.
I hear commotion on the other end of the phone. “Stay on the phone with me. We’re on our way.”
But he doesn’t know where I am. “I’m at Ryan’s. He lives on—”
“I know where it’s at.”
Mike shouts through the door. It sounds like he’s ramming his shoulder into it now. “You’re going to pay for what you’ve done. You’ve taken everything from me!”
“I don’t know what to do,” I mutter into the phone with a shaky voice.
“Grab your gun and lock yourself in a room,” Rooter instructs. “The more barriers you put between you the longer it’ll take him to get to you.”
Rooter (Double H Romance) Page 35