“I said look at my face.” I guess I did hear her correctly. I take a second to do as she demands and scan her face. She’s still every bit as pissed off as she was when she burst through my door.
“Okay,” I say when I’m done.
“Does this look like a face that believes your bullshit?”
“It is not bullshit!” I yell and stand from my chair, clearly offended by her calling me out on my…well, my bullshit.
“Oh, come on! We both know it is. You’re heart broken and trust me, babe, you have every right to be and I understand that, but whether you and Phoenix work through this crap or not, you need to realize he was necessary. Just look at all the progress you’ve made. You’re living your life, meeting new people, and having fun. I’m not about to let you just throw all that away and curl back into yourself and I sure as hell am not about to let you push me away. I’m here, love, if you want me to be or not.”
When she’s done with her speech, she gives me a challenging look, almost daring me to argue with her. I want to; boy do I want to. I want to tell her everything she just said is a lie, but I don’t because I’m sick of fighting. I’m sick of painting on a smile and pretending I’m okay in front of people just to go home and soak my pillow with tears. I’m tired of walking around like my spirit and my heart isn’t crumbling into pieces.
So instead of lying, I look at Violet and let the tears I’ve been fighting so hard to hold back all day tumble. “I’m so sad,” I confess in a wobbly voice.
It takes a nanosecond for her to wrap me in her arms. “I know you are, babe.”
“How do I fix this?”
“It isn’t going to happen overnight, hun. You just take it a day at a time. I do have a temporary fix.”
I look up at her. “What’s that?”
“Coffee.”
***
“He’s not doing so great either.”
I stop walking abruptly and turn to look at Violet. We picked up coffee and decided to take a walk around the park, the same park that Phoenix and I first went to.
We managed to avoid all talk of him for the first forty-five minutes and I was just starting to let my guard down when that sentence left her mouth, and now my heart has plummeted.
“Who?” I ask, but I already know the answer.
“Phoenix. I’ve seen him a few times since that night, and trust me, he’s not doing well at all, babe.”
Deep down, I thought this whole time I wanted to hear that he feels as miserable as me. I’m not alone in feeling like I’m no longer a whole person, that half of me is missing, but hearing that didn’t have the effect on me that I thought it would have.
All I am is royally pissed off. What gives him the right to feel this way? He did this. He destroyed us, and for what? What could I have possibly done to make him hurt me like this? All I did is love him. All I’ve ever done is try and change myself to fit into his world and all he did is cause what seems to be unbearable pain.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Violet.” I sigh and start walking again.
“It’s not good to hold all of this in, Caroline. You need to talk about it.”
“Well, I’m sorry. I don’t really want to talk about how bad Phoenix is doing. He doesn’t even have the right or reason to feel bad. This was his choice.”
“A choice he is clearly regretting. He could have had a reason for doing what he did, but you’ll never know because you won’t talk to him,” she argues.
“No excuse he could possibly give me would make it okay for the way he hurt me; and since when did you become Phoenix Castles’ biggest fan? You didn’t even want us together in the first place,” I snap. My anger has reached a boiling point, and right at this moment I have no patience for anyone who defends Phoenix to me, especially someone who is my friend.
“I’m not his biggest fan. I’m a fan of seeing my friend happy, and before this he made you happy.”
“Yes, and then he screwed it up. I don’t care about what possible reason he had for doing that. You shouldn’t either.”
Neither one of us says anything. We just enter this staring match—her trying to decide if she’s going to let the subject drop or hold on to it like a dog with a bone, and me daring her through my eyes to say one more thing about him.
“Fine. I’ll let it go.” Relief sweeps through me when she says that, but it was too soon. “After I say this. Right now you’re upset. I just don’t want you to be making a mistake that you’ll regret when this anger fades. True love only comes once in a lifetime.”
I’d be lying if I said her words didn’t resonate inside me, but right now I can’t see past the wound enough to agree with her or care. “I promise I’m not letting my anger get in the way of my decisions. I’m one hundred percent sure about my decision to stay away from him.” Everything I just said is one hundred percent a lie, and Violet knows it.
I will probably never be okay with a Phoenix-free life. I think the pain I feel right now is the kind of ache that stays with a person for the rest of their life. It’s the kind of pain read about in books and seen in romantic movies.
The saddest part is, in the books and movies, there is always a happy ending. That’s what I wanted since the time I was just a little girl. I just wanted someone to call mine, someone who would call me theirs.
I thought after Chris I had given up, but deep down inside, I always held on to the hope that Mr. Right would come along and sweep me off my feet. I thought I finally got that; I thought my knight finally arrived, but all Phoenix turned out to be is wrong.
He’s worse than Chris in so many ways. All I had with Chris was two dates. There were no promises made. That wasn’t the case with Phoenix. He made me fall in love with him. He made me believe there was a future for us, that he was different.
Even though I think all of this, a part of me wonders if any of it is true. Did Phoenix do all of that or did I just see more than what was there? Maybe I just wanted to believe this was it, that he was Mr. Right. Maybe I moved too fast and fell too hard and it was completely one-sided.
I’m so confused, more confused than I have ever been in my entire life. Overnight, everything in my world shifted and now nothing is as it seemed. The only thing I know for sure is I’m not ready to forgive.
Chapter Twenty
Who Knew?
I’m dragging when I climb out of the back of the cab three days later. Today the local school took a field trip to the library and I’ve been chasing little kids around all day in heels. My feet are killing me, I’m exhausted, and after staying extremely late to clean up after I closed, all I want to do is take a hot bath and climb into bed.
After the day in the park with Violet, I stopped receiving flowers and basically any other contact from Phoenix. The thought of him giving up makes my heart squeeze even though it’s what I thought I wanted.
I pay the cabbie and trek up my walkway, only to stop and jump back while the breath catches in my lungs when I see someone sitting on my front porch. It’s dark, so I have no way of identifying who the person is. He’s sitting on my stairs and his head is down, so I continue to walk backwards while my eyes bounce from the stranger to my surroundings, looking to see if I can call to anyone for help.
My breath catches for a whole other reason when the mystery person finally does lift his head and I see who it is.
“What are you doing here?” I growl when I can slow my thoughts down long enough to formulate a sentence. I actually didn’t mean for it to come out as harshly, but I can’t bring myself to regret it nor change my tone.
Phoenix doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he stands up and takes his time walking toward me. Even though part of me wants him near me, has been craving to have him near me, I take a tiny step back with each step he takes forward.
I thought my steps were tiny enough that he wouldn’t notice, but I should have known better. Phoenix notices everything. He pauses in his steps to look me in the eyes and raise an eyebrow at me. I raise m
y nose in a silent, defiant, ‘fuck you,’ but this doesn’t do anything to stop his mission. He just shakes his head and takes three more steps forward.
“Why are you here?” I ask again, this time a little louder. My patience has run out with this little dance and it pisses me off that he even thinks he has the bloody right to be here in the first place.
His face changes from almost somber to irritation at my attitude. “I came here to talk to you. You know, something I’ve been trying to do for almost two weeks now.”
“Yeah, well, sorry. I thought you said and did all you needed to say that night at the pub. That was about all I could see or hear.” I don’t want to appear weak, and I swear I tried to keep my emotions in check while talking, but despite myself, my voice cracked at the end of my sentence.
Please, don’t let him have heard it. By the way his face changes from irritation to pure sadness, I know he heard me. Maybe his expression isn’t one of sadness. Maybe it’s pity, and that’s so much worse. “Birdie…”
Birdie.
Birdie.
How can one nickname cause so much heartache? How come the almost broken way he whispers it into the night makes me want to just stop fighting and cry?
I want this pain to stop. I want to turn back the hands of time and stop at the night Phoenix walked into that closet at the pub. I want all of the memories, kisses, and moments I once held so dear to be erased.
I know, though, that it doesn’t matter how badly I want that, how badly I need that. It’s not going to happen. I have to live with this hole inside my heart. I can’t change that, but what I can do is walk away with what’s left. I need this man, the one I love so hopelessly, the one that’s standing in front of me, to leave.
“You need to leave,” I say abruptly, cutting his next words off. When he shakes his head, silently telling me that he’s not going anywhere, and then opens his mouth to say more, I hold up my hand. “Now. You need to leave now.”
I go to step around him and make a break for my front door, but before I can get all the way past him, he grabs my arm and halts me. “Please, just let me explain.”
“I don’t want to hear your explanations!” I yell in his face. I no longer care about keeping my emotions or tears in check; I let them fall freely. “I don’t want to hear your reasons for doing this to me, for causing me so much pain. I just want it to stop. You need to leave.”
I cry and yank my arm from his grasp. Then I walk as fast as I can to my porch and up the stairs.
I’m on the third and last step, so close to the front door and my escape, when he says it. “You said you loved me!” My body freezes. I don’t even think I breathe while his statement runs on a loop in my mind.
You said you loved me.
You said you loved me.
I comb through my memories, trying to figure out when I said those words to him. I know I said them one thousand times in my mind, but I’ve never uttered them out loud.
I turn around slowly and look at him. “What?” I whisper.
“You said you loved me. That night after we made love, before you were fully asleep, you whispered that you loved me.”
How could I have been so stupid? I never meant for those words to be spoken so soon. I didn’t want him to know my true feelings for him. Because I couldn’t keep my big mouth shut, I lost him? Learning that makes this whole thing even worse.
I no longer have to flip back and forth between blaming Phoenix for making me fall for him and wondering if I built us up in my head. It’s clear now. Brutally. Like a big neon sign blaring right in front that reads It was all your fault!
I love him. Since when is that such a crime? I deserved all of this because I dared to love him? I refuse to accept that. “You did everything you did because I said I loved you?” I ask slowly, completely dumbfounded by the thought.
“You don’t understand.” He shakes his head and takes a few steps toward me. “My dad, he loved my mom so much. She was his world. He’d do anything for her. When she died, it nearly destroyed him. He didn’t live anymore. He just existed, spending all his time drinking away his pain and doing anything he could to not think of her. That’s what my life was. Watching my dad, a man who, in the beginning of my life was my hero, fade away to nothing, and I thought that’s what love does to you. It takes a strong person and destroys them. I promised myself at thirteen that I would never become my father. I would never fall in love, and I have stuck to it.”
My heart breaks for the young Phoenix and his father. I can’t imagine the pain he must have felt from not only losing a mom but, in many ways, losing his dad too.
I can’t deny, though, that the last complete piece of my heart just shattered. I know why he told me this story. It’s not that he doesn’t want to love me; it’s that he can’t. If only I had known sooner. He made himself a promise and he stuck to it.
I know the truth now. I know he doesn’t feel for me the way I feel for him, but I also know that my spirit, my soul, and my heart can’t hear anymore. Screw the bath and screw climbing into bed. I want to disappear.
“I get it,” I finally manage. “And I’m sorry about your mom and your dad. I even understand why you feel and think the way you do. I wish I could sit here and say that hearing all of that and knowing you don’t feel the same way changes the way I feel, but it doesn’t. I’m sorry, Phoenix, but I don’t regret telling you I love you, even if I was half asleep when I did, because I fully meant it.”
I’m not going to wait for him to respond to that. I just want this night to end. I turn back toward my front door while digging through my purse for my keys.
“Baby, you don’t understand what I’m trying to say—”
“Phoenix, honestly, I can’t hear anymore. I’m tired. I’m so bloody tired,” I say, my voice devoid of emotion. I could cry with relief when I locate my keys. “I’ll see you around,” I say with finality in my tone.
“Caroline! Just listen to me. I care about you! I—”
I care about you.
I care about you.
Who knew words meant to cause comfort could cause such sting? Caring about someone is far from love. I need to get off this porch. My eyes bite with unshed tears. I’ve humiliated myself enough tonight. I don’t want to let him see another tear fall for him, which is why I cut him off. “Goodnight, Phoenix.”
I slip inside my front door and hurry to close it to the sounds of Phoenix pleading with me to let him finish what he has to say.
The door is barely closed before I let the water fall from my eyes. I jump when I hear him bang on my door. “Open up the door, Caroline!” His voice just makes the tears fall harder. All I was trying to hold back comes pouring out in this moment.
I ignore his demands. My back goes to the front door and I slide down until my bum hits the floor. I bury my face in my hands while I ugly cry. I know it’s over. Over the past two weeks, all I could do was wonder if I would ever get an explanation for all of this. Now, I have one and it’s caused way more agony than closure.
“Open the fucking door! Please!” I shake my head as if he could see me and remain seated. I’m not trying to be bitchy, but I can’t handle hearing any more of what he has to say.
I’m not sure how long he stands out there yelling, begging, and pleading for me to answer the door, but eventually he gives in. Not for good, though. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone for tonight, but this isn’t over, baby. I’m not giving up on us.”
I’m not giving up on us.
I’m not giving up on us.
What doesn’t he understand? There is no us. There never was. I was just a dreamer who had an unpleasant head-on collision with reality. The tears don’t stop coming for the longest time no matter how hard I try to shut them off.
By the time I climb up from my spot on the floor, he’s long gone. I check my peephole and see that the porch is, in fact, empty. My head is pounding and my whole body aches from the sobs that wracked through me.
Even still, I wal
k to Bubbles’s tank and sprinkle her food in before heading to the bathroom. I look at my reflection in the mirror over the sink as I strip my clothes off.
I don’t even recognize the unhappy woman in the mirror. My eyes are puffy, but I can still see the large circles underneath them from the lack of sleep. My appetite is nonexistent, so my collarbone and hip bones are more prominent.
I may have not been the most outgoing woman a few months ago. I may have stuck to myself and my best friend was a fish. I craved love and adventure, but at least I was somewhat happy.
I miss that girl. I’d do anything to be that girl, almost as much as I would do to make Phoenix love me like I love him.
You said you loved me.
I care about you.
The whole night plays on repeat in a torturous loop as I climb in the shower and let the hot water beat on my back. I go through the motion of first washing my hair and then washing my body before climbing back out.
I don’t have the energy to put on lotion or even get dressed in my pajamas. I grab the towel off the rack and wrap it around my body. I don’t turn on any light on my way down the hall to my room. I still don’t when I reach my room.
I walk to my bed and immediately climb in. My head hurts, my eyes hurt, and my body is exhausted, but as tired as I am, no matter how much I need it, sleep never comes.
Chapter
Twenty-One
Women’s Intuition
I smile with relief as the last person leaves the library. Then I lock the door. I love this place and my job, but lately all I want to do is be home, in my bed, reading. Or just basically doing anything to get my mind off of Phoenix. No surprise it hasn’t worked.
I haven’t talked to him since that night a week ago. He’s called, but I haven’t answered. What would I say? Everything that needed to be said has been said. Right now it’s best that I try to move on and I can’t do that if I’m around him or if I talk to him.
All of the anger I felt for him has vanished. How can you be mad at someone for how they feel? If I’ve learned anything these past few weeks, it’s that humans have no control over that. We have no choice in who we fall in love with or who we choose not to love. If we did, I would have chosen to stop loving him long ago.
Love, Unwanted (Discovering Love #3) Page 14