by Haley Jenner
I use my palms to wipe at the fresh onset of tears his words bring.
"Look, I think you love him as much as he does you," he shakes his head when I take a breath to speak, silencing me. "I don't give a shit why you're denying it or what fucked up reason you've constructed in your head to stop yourself from admitting it. What I care about is my boy and if you're too stupid to act on how you feel, have some decency and cut it off, because you don’t deserve him. Jake deserves a whole lot more than… this,” he gestures towards me, his face contorted in disgust. “Stop being selfish, Aubrey. Look at how broken he is, stop whatever fucking games you’re playing. Let him go."
He turns, flagging down a cab and opening the door to gesture me inside, not giving me a second glance before slamming the door and walking away into the dark of the night.
It's late and I'm thankful Mom and Steve are asleep when I arrive home. I spend a long time in the shower, crying over the loss of Jake. Devastated that tomorrow I have to push him away and pretend that what we shared was nothing. Luca wasn't lying when he called me selfish, Jake deserves to be happy. I hate myself and now Annabelle will hate me too, which is deserved. This doesn't hurt as much as it should. Losing a friendship that has spanned my entire life is something that should break me but how can I break any further? I don't even know where to start in rectifying our friendship. How could I possibly look her in the eyes after what I've done? She'll never forgive me and I don't blame her, hell maybe it's the price I have to pay for breaking a heart so pure and kind.
The water in the shower turns cold and I'm forced to move. I stand slowly, brushing away the last remaining tears before stepping out. Drying and dressing myself, I step from the bathroom and find David sitting on the edge of my childhood bed.
He looks down at me with disappointment and annoyance. "I don't want to even begin imagining what this evening’s turn of events were about. You not only humiliated yourself, you humiliated me, Aubrey. Which is unacceptable. Whatever your relationship with that boy…" he spits with such disgust my temper flares.
"Do not refer to Jake as a boy," I grit out. "He is the most honorable man I know. Do not disrespect him in front of me. Ever."
David's eyes narrow on me before he stands to move towards the bathroom. "Honorable? Not the word I would choose for someone who makes the decision to sleep with someone who is attached, but I refuse to discuss this any further. You will cease contact with him to ensure we aren't caused any further embarrassment. Let's just be thankful this occurred here and not somewhere of importance where it could affect me."
I laugh sarcastically, angered by David’s words. “Jake would have never chased me, David, he’s too much of a decent person. It was me. I pushed our relationship, only physically at first because I knew he would be able satisfy me, take me somewhere I couldn’t imagine existed. And he did, every single time. You have never made me feel the way he did. I craved him every second of every day and not just physically. I wanted to share everything with him and I did, for as long as he allowed it. But in doing so I took something from him. I took the purity of his heart and I tarnished it because I was too weak to let go, too afraid of having to live without him and to exist with only you. I hate myself for being forced to settle for you. I hate myself for becoming trapped with a man that doesn’t love who I am.” I swallow the bile rising in my throat as I open my heart and choose honesty over the lies I’ve let overtake my life for months.
“I’m glad you understand the consequences well enough to stay,” David warns. “Or do you need me to talk you through it again?”
My eyes meet the ground, refusing to see the pain he’s caused me. It would only give him satisfaction. I’m certain of it. “I didn’t think so. We’re leaving. We’ll go home to Bellingham and carry on with our lives. I expect that your indiscretions will not continue. You know the ramifications if they do.”
“Fuck you, David,” I rub my nose along the back of my hand, but he only rolls his eyes at me.
The drive to Bellingham is awkward and tense. Neither of us speak, choosing the silence of the night to reflect on the decisions both of us have made. I didn’t say goodbye to Mom or Steve, only leaving a scribbled note that David had work and I’d call them soon. My entire being is overtaken with hate for myself and I feel depressed by the thought. Never could I have imagined that I would make so many decisions in my life to cause such self-destruction and self-hate. I was happy. I was positive. I knew my life would be epic. Once upon a time anyway. Present day paints an entirely different picture. I’ve let my parents’ divorce affect me more than I think has ever done them. It drove me into a situation that I’m in no way certain I feel I could ever escape from. I’m lost and worse, alone, no one to help me from the mess I’ve made for myself.
My finger slides along the screen of my phone, searching out Annabelle’s number. It hovers above her name until my hand begins shaking with the effort. Would she even answer? I can’t stomach her rejection right now, so I lock the screen and drop the phone into my lap, turning my face to the window and the quick succession of lights passing as David drives.
I feel empty and lost as I enter the house I’ve classed as home for the past few years. It’s silly I ever thought of it as home. It’s not mine. Not one minor detail. It’s all David. Everything muted and clinical. Boring and drab. No color. No homey touches. Looking around now it’s obvious. I guess I never really cared to add my touch to this space, happy to live within the confines of David’s structure. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I don’t recognize the person living inside of me.
My head turns slowly to the sound of David’s voice, having missed everything he’s just said. “Sorry?” I ask, rubbing my eyes with my thumb and middle finger.
“Your being here gives me the impression that you have decided to remain in this relationship. Am I correct?” he repeats, and I don’t know if the sound I make is a laugh or cry, but it’s the only answer I offer, unable to form words.
“I think we should get married. May as well do it sooner rather than later. Maybe planning a wedding will give you something else to focus on other than…” he huffs, waving his hand dismissively to indicate he’s referring to Jake.
“What?” I stutter, my face contorting with the sick feeling his words have caused.
“It’s an obvious decision, Aubrey. You’re not going to leave, I don’t have time to find another partner and I do want children, so it’s best we put whatever little crisis you’ve had going on behind us and try to piece some sort of life together,” he explains in a way that makes me feel stupid. Like how could I not come to this conclusion as well? Surely it’s the obvious path we should take…
“Ummm… I…” my mouth opens and shuts my brain having shutdown completely.
“I’m going to bed. I have work in the morning,” he states, ignoring my stupor and moving towards our bedroom.
Eventually, I find my way to the couch and drop down. I stare ahead at nothing and remain there through the remainder of the night and well into the morning.
David leaves for work at some point, ignoring my comatose state.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jake
I don’t have to wait long for David to leave for work, so caught up in himself he doesn’t notice my car parked in the street. I’m at a loss as to how to move forward from here. I know Aubrey loves me. I can’t be in this entirely alone but I don’t know how to break her down, how to make her see. Her walls are iron tight and if I knew how to blow them the fuck down, I would, but I don’t even know where to start. I know deep down that her barriers will only begin to drop, to let me in when she wants it to happen. I’m at a loss as to how to get her to fight. Fuck, I’ve been trying for months. But nothing.
Still, I can’t believe I exposed us to everyone last night. I can’t even pretend that I’m not worried the love she had for me didn’t disintegrate after what I did. Fuck, everyone knows. Everyone. Annabelle fucking lost it, trying to get me to talk. To
tell her what the hell was going on but I couldn’t. Not my place to share our story, if Aubrey wants Annabelle to know, she’ll share. God knows what happened between her and David, he couldn’t have ignored this, not this time, not even if he wanted to.
My head hurts. Hangover and over-worked mind making my brain want to explode. Wouldn’t be entirely unwelcome. Nervous energy courses through my veins and I feel clammy because I know this is it. If she tells me no again, I’ll stop. I’ll accept the rejection and let her go. I can’t handle the constant fight anymore, not with her blocking me at every turn.
I stop midway across the street multiple times to turn back to my car and leave. Afraid. Scared shitless of her dismissal, of her lies that are so deep-seated I'm convinced she actually believes them.
My knuckle drums a soft rhythmic beat on the wood of her door, and the returning silence is deafening. I control my breathing, so it’s barely audible, straining to listen for any sign of her on the other side of the wood. I wait a minute, maybe two before the lock clicks and I see her through the crack she allows in the door.
"J-Baby," she whispers, her voice catching in the dryness of her throat as she widens the door.
My eyes close at the endearment. Equal parts anger and relief coursing through my veins. She looks like shit. Dark circles bruising under her eyes, her porcelain skin, dull and lifeless. Suddenly self-conscious she pulls her arms into the sleeves of her hoodie, using the material covering her hands to brush back the hair from her face. "I… ummm… didn't expect… come in," she gestures, stepping back from the door allowing me access. She still smells sweet, her scent coaxing me closer, tempting me to touch her.
Turning my back, I close the door and keep my back to her gathering my thoughts. "Can I get you anything, a drink or…" she trails off as I shake my head, turning to look at her.
Shifting on her feet, she watches me expectantly. "What are you doing here, Jake?" she questions softly when I remain silent, awkwardness radiating from her.
"I don't know. To apologize, I guess… last night, shit, Strawb'ries." My eyes meet the ceiling, the cords of my neck straining to swallow.
"You don't owe me an apology, Jake," she whispers. "What happened was deserved… I… Please just… don't apologize to me, you've done nothing wrong."
Righting my neck, I meet her eyes again. "I hurt you, Aubrey. Intimately. Brutally. Publically," I stress, once again the feeling of sick threatening to suffocate me.
"Look, Jake," she sighs, her thumb and forefinger holding the bridge of her nose. "This can't go any further, I think we both know enough damage has been done. It's best we accept that this…" she trails off into nothing, sniffing into her hoodie.
"I love you, Aubrey," I urge and her eyes close over at the pain my words cause. "I need you. But more than that, I want you," I continue, moving into her space, using my thumb to trace the socket of her eye, encouraging them to open. She needs to see my words, the truth and fight in my eyes as I speak. So I wait until the crystal color of her eyes meet mine before I say anything more. "I want everything with you, Strawb'ries. I want to know that every day I get to tell you that I love you. I want to wake up next to you every morning and see your beautiful skin and taste your lips. I want to go to sleep with you every night after I've heard every detail about your day. I want to touch you, taste you, make love to you, fuck you. Every. Single. Day. For the rest of my life." My hand cups her cheek, the pad of my thumb following the shade of color decorating her cheek bone. "I want to be your husband, the father of your babies. But more than any of that… I. Just. Want. You."
I pause for a breath to see the reaction my words bring, but she shuts me out. Her eyes have once again closed over, cotton covered hands hiding the bottom half of her face. The only thing I can see is the wet droplets spilling from the corner of her eyes and I choose to take that as my encouragement to continue. "Because, I love you and I know you love me. I know it deep in my soul, Aubrey," I implore, my voice quiet and gentle, but my body tight with tension as my fist rests against my chest, on my heart, trying with everything to portray the depth of my feeling.
Her crystal colored eyes open again as she watches me. The eyes I love so much shine brighter with the tears pooling inside them. Her cheeks give evidence to how my words affect her, track lines of tears staining her porcelain skin. But even with her body language, so obvious in its allegiance, she still shakes her head. Denying her feelings. Denying me.
My heart beats faster in panic at the action. The swift negative movement of her head as her chin trembles restricts the blood flow to my heart, making it thump loudly in my ears. "I don't fucking get it, Aubrey," I snap, adrenaline creeping into my body, my brain's defenses kicking in, showing her my desperation, willing her, begging her to fight. "You're settling. I know that. You know that," I stress, my hands coursing through my hair, pulling it from my eyes. "You're fucking settling, for what? A second-rate love, if you could even call it that," I cough out. "It doesn't make any sense. Do you even love him? At all? Because if you do, this," I say, gesturing between the two of us. "Wouldn't have happened. If you loved him even a little bit, just a portion of the way you love me and don't fucking deny it," I laugh humorlessly. “Then you couldn't… wouldn't want to betray him the way you have been."
Aubrey turns away from me, crossing her arms over her chest as her shoulders move in practiced movements to calm whatever's storming through her brain. She's silent, and I wait anxiously behind her. My feet itch to move closer to her, to touch her. Maybe that way I could make her see how intensely she reacts to my touch. Maybe that way, I could make her see the strength of the feelings she has for me. She told me herself no one has ever made her feel the way I do. I do things to her body that no other person has or can. It's me and only me. It's because she trusts me, she’s comfortable to open herself up to me. Because she fucking loves me.
Tension radiates from her body; her shoulders are squared tightly and my body sags in disappointment. "Jake, I'm sorry this meant more to you than it did for me. I assumed you knew that this was only a bit of fun, I never meant for feelings to come into it. I love David," she chokes out, her lie catching in her throat as she pushes herself to keep going. "I don't feel that way for you. I'm really sorry, Jake," her voice has gone flat, devoid of any emotion as she twists the knife lodged in my chest. “I don't love you."
I imagine this is what it feels like to have your heart ripped from your body. To have your chest cracked wide open and the organ meant to keep you breathing, to keep your body alive, dragged roughly from you. Imagine the pain of that when you don't get to die. You have to continue on, live and breathe like the rest of the world when you're nothing but a shell. A member of the living dead with no possible way to stop the agony of trying to live without your lifeline.
"You can't even look at me when you're spewing this shit," I breathe out, massaging my temples to release the tension. "Is it really just this deep-seated fear of betraying your dad that’s stopping you from being happy? You've concocted some false ideal that settling for someone like David will make him happy. You think your dad really gives a fucking shit who you end up with? He wants you happy, Aubrey. That's it. He wants you fucking happy, but you’re blinded by your own insecurities," I spit, my whole body shaking with anger.
She spins towards me, the fear my words have caused making her whole body shake. "Don't you fucking dare, Jake Dean. You don't know shit about me or my life. You were half a decent lay for a while when I was bored. Nothing more," she purses her lips in distaste.
Stepping closer into my space her breathing comes sharp and even. "You mean nothing to me. Nothing. We're so fucking done, Jake. Do not call me again. Avoid me at every given opportunity, because I want nothing from you."
My eyes scan her face. I take in the lines etched into her skin, unattractive in their sour grimace. The tornado of emotions whirling in her crystal colored eyes. Fear. Anger. Sadness. Loss. Her entire body is quaking with the overwhelming feelings bur
ying her, and her strength is wavering to keep them from suffocating her.
How can I love this woman? How can someone who doesn't care to fight for me, own my heart? I swallow the bile in my throat, grimacing at the taste her rejection brings me. I focus on her eyes because they've always been key to reading her. Our stare holds for long drawn out minutes and every second that passes my heart cracks further with hurt while my brain fumes at her inability to work up the courage to have the life she really wants.
I bark out a laugh. Dry, humorless, and sarcastic before turning towards the door. "Enjoy your second-rate life, Aubrey. Enjoy what you've chosen to settle for and when your husband," I say with acid on my tongue, the word burning my mouth to articulate, "fucks you routinely on the second Tuesday of every month, think of me, what I can make you feel and what he most definitely can't. But more importantly, remember the life I wanted to give you and keep that inside when you finally want to admit that you were too fucking stupid to let yourself have what you really wanted. And when that's settled inside of you, remember that life doesn't afford too many second chances."
I slam the front door with more force than necessary, not allowing myself a backward glance. Not allowing myself a single moment to second guess my words or attempt to dissect her reaction. It's done. Relief courses through my veins for the briefest of moments as the entryway to her home shakes with the violence of my anger. However brief, it’s calming, so I'll take it. I can't allow myself time to breathe, instead moving fast from her porch and into the coolness of the day.
Yanking open my car door, I dump myself into the seat and punch the steering wheel.
"FUCK!" I yell, my fist connecting over and over again with the leather of the wheel until my fist begins to pulse in pain. Slumping back into my seat I breathe heavy. My eyes sting and I rub my nose with the inside of my thumb, sniffing back any tears threatening to spill.
I feel like an idiot. Before I reached her door, I knew I'd come away empty-handed. That she'd deny what she truly felt. I just couldn't begin to imagine how deep her rejection would cut or how buried her determination would be. Never could I have imagined she would turn what we shared into nothing. That she would be able to look into my eyes and lie so convincingly about her feelings. I thought I knew her. Thought that I understood who she was. I was wrong. So God damn fucking wrong and I feel like a fool.