Finding Infinity (Infinity Series)

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Finding Infinity (Infinity Series) Page 26

by Layne Harper


  When I’m back on the road and away from the hotel, I make my last phone call. It’s to Doctor Benson. “Hi, this is Caroline Collins McKinney. I need some help.”

  I fill Doctor Benson in on the last twenty-four hours. When I’m done, I ask the most painful question of my life. “You know everything, Doctor Benson. Can Colin and I salvage this relationship?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Colin

  Sources close to CharCol are reporting that Colin McKinney is at the Magnolia Hotel right now with Jenna Sanchez, a longtime friend of the quarterback who said in a statement earlier this year that she was having an affair with him. We’ve also confirmed that Doctor Caroline Collins arrived at the hotel and stayed approximately twenty minutes before getting in her car and leaving. Who wouldn’t have paid money to be a fly on the wall of that hotel room?

  I watch Charlie slam the hotel door behind her. If I could run, I would chase after her and hold her in my arms, holding her until she understands just how much I need her right now. Instead, I’ve got unfinished business, that’s laughing at me like a fucking hyena. This confrontation was supposed to make me feel better. I wanted revenge—to make Jenna feel like the pathetic, small person that she is. Now, the weight on my chest is crushing.

  “For the record, Jenna, I didn’t come here to fuck you. I came here to confront you with this.” I toss the green file folder that’s tucked under my arm on the bed. “But it doesn’t matter. I don’t love you. I’ve never loved you. Pack your shit and get out of the house you’re living in. Leave your car in Dallas. It’ll save me the trouble of having to get it returned to me. I can’t take away your degree, but if I could, I would. I hope you use it to find yourself a good job, because your support from me is over. Try to sell our story, and I’ll sue you for violating our NDA—Twice. I’ll take all of your future earnings. Rot in hell, you selfish bitch.” My voice is even. I’m so in control that I almost scare myself.

  As I crutch toward the door, desperate to get out and get to Charlie, Jenna says, “I’m not worried, Colin. You’ve said all of this to me before. Next time Charlie stomps on your ego, you’ll call me, and I’ll do what I always do. Fuck you until you feel better about yourself. That’s the game that we play. Because you know as well as I do, Colin, she doesn’t have the personality to give you what you need.” She walks toward me and touches my back. I flinch. “She doesn’t submit to you. She doesn’t let you use her like I let you use me. Can’t drink anymore? No drugs? I’m all that you’ve got, baby. ”

  I should walk out the door, but I don’t. Instead, I turn back around and look at Jenna. The woman who I thought was so beautiful once now looks like the witch she really is. “No, Charlie doesn’t. You’re right. She’s better. She’s everything that you aren’t. She’s independent, and smart. She challenges me, and makes me a better person. She’s good, and you may think that this will ruin us, but it won’t. What we’ve got together you can’t destroy. Go crawl back in your hole.”

  I open the hotel room door and let is slam on the ugliest bit of closet cleaning that I needed to take care of.

  Now, I have to get home and fix my marriage.

  * * * *

  I don’t bother checking my phone. My voice mail is full. There’s no telling how many texts and phone calls that I’ve received. It doesn’t matter; none of them are from Charlie. I know her well enough to know that she’d rather pull out her eyeteeth than call me.

  I don’t go straight home. I ask the driver to just drive the streets of Dallas, while I attempt to clear my head. I need to get some perspective. If I really admit it to myself, I’m fucking terrified to go home. I’ve given her every reason to leave me. Just the thought of seeing her pack her tiny-ass car with her belongings makes me have to lean over, clench my gut, to keep from losing my stomach all over the floorboard of this black town car. Maybe her driving that two-seater matchbox car is a good idea after all. At least she can’t fit much in it.

  I leave a voice mail for Aiden, and ask him call me. I tell him that it’s very important. Next, I call Jenny. I know what the tabloid trash is reporting without having to visit my least favorite sites—I’m having an affair, and got busted. I’m sure there are side-by-side pictures of Jenna, me, and Charlie, all entering the hotel. It looks bad. I don’t give a fuck what they think. There’s only one opinion that matters, and I need to focus on her.

  When Jenny answers the phone, she says, “Didn’t you fuck up royally?”

  “I didn’t go to the hotel to have an affair. Jenna set me up. It doesn’t matter. Just tell the vultures that I’ll be issuing a statement shortly,” I reply, sounding as resigned as I feel.

  “And that statement is?” Jenny asks, sounding sarcastic.

  “I need to talk to Aiden first. I can’t reach him.”

  “That’s because he’s on a plane to Dallas. Caroline called him,” Jenny says a little more sympathetically. Her voice softens into the mother hen tone that I’ve become so used to.

  I’m not sure if that’s good news or bad, but it is what it is. “Okay. If you talk to him before me, tell him to call me.”

  “Will do. Hey. Hang in there.” Jenny pauses and then says, rather emotionally for her, “Caroline was not my favorite person when you moved her into your home, but I’ve grown to like her. She’s good for you. I can see how much you love her. Fight for her, Colin.”

  That could quite possibly be the nicest thing that Jenny has ever said. “Thanks,” I reply. “I’ve got a lot of groveling to do.”

  When the town car pulls up at my house, I see Brad’s car in the driveway. The battery acid feeling starts gnawing away at my stomach lining. God, I hope he’s not there to help her move her shit out of the house—because I’m not letting her leave. Panic almost overtakes me, as I fight to catch my breath. I notice that I’m twirling my wedding ring around my finger. That small amount of metal brings me reassurance that legally she’s still mine. She’s not going to walk out of this house without a fight. We’re married. She’s mine, and I’m hers. We’ve come too far together. She’s not going to give up on us because I’m a stupid asshole.

  I pay the driver, and crutch my way up to the front door and open it cautiously, not sure what to expect. I’ve never been anxious about walking into my own house before.

  I stand there, with my jaw hanging open. Brad and Charlie are redecorating for Christmas. The stockings that I tore off the mantle are back where she’d originally hung them. Brad is stringing the Christmas lights back on the tree, while Charlie is sifting through the black garbage bags, separating the broken ornaments from the ones that can be rehung.

  Brad says to me, “Oh, good. You’re home just in time to make another popcorn garland.”

  I’ve slipped through the rabbit’s hole and am in an alternate universe. She’s here, though, and her shit isn’t packed. I crutch to the couch and take a seat, while Brad gets the bag of microwave popcorn and hands me the needle and fishing line.

  “Do you need help, or do you remember how to do it?” Brad asks.

  “No. I remember,” I reply, thankfully sounding less confused than I feel.

  The doorbell rings, and Charlie gets up to answer it. I turn around and see the security guy that I hired to monitor the gated entrance standing there with bags of to-go food. “I paid for it out of the cash that Mr. McKinney gave me to keep at the guard’s stand.” He hands her the receipt and the bags.

  “Thanks,” she replies, as she closes the front door.

  “Yay! Sushi’s here.” Brad claps.

  I watch Charlie unpack sushi rolls and sashimi and place them on the glass coffee table. Only my girl can find a sushi restaurant that does delivery. She goes into the wine refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of sake and two cups for her and Brad. She’s yet to acknowledge me, and I’m not sure if I should speak to her or not. For now, I decide to play along.

  Brad grabs her iPhone and turns on Alvin and the Chipmunks Christmas as the two of them sit down in front
of the coffee table and dig in.

  I continue sliding popcorn on the string, and wait for someone to give me a fucking idea as to what’s going on here. She doesn’t look at me, but she doesn’t look angry. Other than completely ignoring me, she looks like Charlie.

  I watch them pour sake for each other, because it’s bad luck to pour your own. They clink their cups together, and say, “Kampai.”

  Brad tells Charlie about the special he saw on HGTV that featured Tommy and Sarah decorating her house for a Christmas party. Brad gushes that he can’t wait to try some of the things he learned next year for his Festivus party that he’s already planning. When the Chipmunks starts singing about how they don’t want Christmas to be late, I watch the two of them throw their arms around each other and sing along, completely off-pitch. Charlie giggles her precious giggle, and hits Brad playfully on the arm. “Play it again!”

  I finish my popcorn garland and ask what I should do with it. Charlie doesn’t answer, but Brad says, “Just lay it down, and I’ll put it on the tree in a sec.”

  They don’t offer me any dinner, and frankly, I’m not hungry, so it’s probably for the best. I’d just make her upset if I refused the food. Raw fish and battery acid is a bad combination. I sit there in silence, and watch the two of them interact while they finish redecorating the house for Christmas. I notice that they’ve added some new things, like lighted candles for the windows, and some material around the base of the Christmas tree. There’s also a Santa Claus dressed in a Cowboy’s uniform, holding a football.

  Charlie doesn’t make eye contact with me once, but I can’t take my eyes off of her. She’s fucking gorgeous. She’s got on running pants, and a long sleeved, light blue, T-shirt. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail. There’s no makeup hiding her beautiful skin. She looks like my Charlie, which is the sexiest thing ever.

  My phone keeps vibrating in my pocket, but I’m afraid to look at it. It’s like, if I don’t move, maybe today and yesterday, for that matter, didn’t happen. Our home certainly has been restored to its previous obnoxious splendor.

  Brad kisses Charlie on the cheek, which makes me see red. I want to fucking kiss her, and do so much more, but she will not even look at me. “I’m leaving, best doctor friend. Call me mañana.”

  “Will do,” she says, as she walks him out the front door.

  When she comes back inside, she goes straight to our bedroom. I get up and crutch in behind her. I lean against the bathroom doorframe, and watch her wash her face. When she’s finished she says, “We need all the bedrooms upstairs for our guests, who’ll be here tomorrow. My couch in the pool house makes into a bed. Would you like it, or I’ll take it?”

  “You know that I didn’t sleep with her. Are we going to talk about this?” I ask, still just as confused by her reaction to seeing Jenna and I alone together in the hotel room. I mean, seriously, I’ve been in some fucked up situations, but this one takes the cake. Why doesn’t she just yell and throw things at me like most girls would do?

  “What’s there to talk about? I know you didn’t sleep with Jenna. I’m assuming that, even if I hadn’t shown up, you wouldn’t have slept with her, because you value your marriage, and you respect me enough not to cheat on me,” she says, matter-of-factly, as she dries her face with a hand towel.

  “If you believe me, then why are we discussing sleeping in separate rooms?” I know that I’m a guy, but I’m obviously missing something.

  She spins around and gives me the scariest damn look that I think I’ve ever seen. I’ve never seen her mad like this. Her eyes are almost black with pure, unfiltered, anger. “Because you promised not to see her again, and you did. You lied to me,” she yells throwing up her hands helplessly. “You knew exactly what you were going to do when I dropped you off at your office. You could have told me about her, what she did, but you didn’t. You knew that I wouldn’t want you to see her, so you lied to me so you could inflict some sort of revenge. Hope it was worth it, Colin.”

  She pivots on her toes, walks inside her walk-in closet, and shuts the door behind her. A few minutes later she comes out in the ugliest, baggiest flannel pajamas possible. If she’s trying to make herself less sexy, she fails. I still want to make love to her into next week.

  I quickly glance at her finger. Her ring is still there. “Please don’t do this. Just the thought of not sleeping with you makes me crazy. Hell, honey. I couldn’t take you on the other side of the damn bed. Come on, Charlie. Yell at me. Hit me again, if you want to. But don’t deny me you. I can’t take this cold shoulder shit.” I sound as pathetic as I feel.

  “Then you should have thought about that before you booked your ex-fuck buddy in the hotel that you two frequented, using a credit card paid from our joint funds.” She rubs her moisturizer on her cheeks with such force, her skin is pushed up and then down as she all but slaps it on.

  “Fair enough. How long am I to be punished for, Mom?” I don’t like her making me feel like an errant child. I’ve about had all that I can take of this nonsense. If I could, I would have her pinned against a wall, making her forget why she’s so pissed at me. I give my leg a mean stare. Fuck, it sucks having to talk this shit out.

  “I don’t know, Colin. How long do you think? Maybe until this new scandal you’ve dumped on us has passed? Is that long enough?” She hisses at me, looking me in the eye for the first time. “You set us up to be front page for media fodder again. AGAIN!” She stomps to the other side of the bathroom and gets out a clean hand towel. Her words make me flinch. Fuck!

  “Then, here I am. Stupid me,” she says, as she throws her hands up in the air, dropping the towel. “I walk right into Jenna’s nicely-laid media trap.”

  It’s now clear to me why she’s so upset, and I guess that I don’t blame her. She continues. “Shall we do another interview to try to appease your sponsors and team? Should you call your good buddy, Jimmy, and see if he’s up for another appearance on his show? Colin, I can’t take much more of this.” Her voice sounds hoarse from screaming at me. I want to pull her into my arms and hold her—to make her feel how sorry I am.

  I hop toward her, but she backs away. “Don’t touch me,” she screams with crazy eyes. “I literally can’t stand the sight of you right now. Give me time. I’ll take the pool house.”

  I let her storm past me. She grabs the pillow off of her side of the bed, and walks over and takes the throw from the chair in the sitting room. She stomps out of our bedroom, and I stand there with my arms dangling at my side wondering what the fuck just happened, as I listen to the back door open and close.

  I sink down on the sitting room couch and drop my head. I can’t fucking believe this is happening. She’s right. I did this to us. This is completely on me. The weight on my chest is now tap dancing on my ribs, the battery acid feeling in my stomach is rolling, and cold sweat has collected on my forehead. I’m fighting for a breath, and I seem to be losing. Her black eyes keep playing like a slideshow in my mind.

  I somehow make my way into the bathroom and to the sink. I splash water on my face, hoping the cold sting will snap me out of this. I stand up straight, bracing my arms on the sink countertop. I mentally begin to try to talk myself out of this. Charlie isn’t leaving you. She’s just upset. She needs time. She’s just across the pool. She’s okay. She’s just angry. She’ll come around because she loves you. She loves you…she loves you …

  Finally, I take a deep breath. It calms my churning stomach, and dulls the roar in my ears.

  My phone vibrates, and I pull it out of my pocket to see if it’s Aiden, and it is.

  “Hello.” I don’t bother to hide my feelings.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “You have no idea.”

  “I just landed. Should I come to the house or get a hotel room?”

  “I can tell you where not to stay,” I say, with a rueful laugh. “Just come here. Charlie’s in the pool house.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asks, genuinel
y concerned.

  “No. This one is all on me. I fucked up good this time.”

  “She’ll think it through, Colin, and realize that you didn’t cheat on her.”

  I laugh. If only that was my issue. “She doesn’t question that. I told her that I’d never see Jenna again. She’s pissed that I went behind her back, and that I brought the wrath of the media down on us.” I pause for a second. “Again.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah. I’ve got no defense against this. I’m a fucking idiot.”

  “I’ll be there shortly.” Aiden replies.

  * * * *

  Apparently my best friend has his own shit going on in his life, because I get the privilege of watching Aiden drink all of my bourbon that I can’t touch. While I stare across the pool, which I got married next to—looking at the place where the only woman who’s ever mattered to me is sleeping. Alone. Without me pressed against her side.

  Aiden goes to bed in such a drunken state that he can barely walk and I hear him stumble up the stairs. He yells a slurred, “fuck!” as he bounces off the hallway wall. He’s going to be miserable tomorrow. I’m jealous.

  I almost crutch into the pool house and crawl in bed beside her, about a hundred times. I ultimately decided to respect her wishes and give her space—although, it’s not going to last for long. She gets tonight without me, and then we’re going to make up at least enough that we’re sharing a bed. I’m going fucking crazy without her.

  I’m sitting on a sun lounger, next to the pool, freezing my ass off, hoping to talk to her before she goes for her run. I’m on day two without sleep. I don’t remember the last meal that I had. Oh. Yeah. I do. It was half a chef salad at Doctor Starr’s office. I check my watch. She should be up by now.

  Fuck this. I’ve given her enough space. Now it’s time for me to convince her to forgive me. I grab my crutches and hop to the pool house’s French doors. I try the handle, and they’re unlocked. I push the doors open and see her lying on the couch in a ball, sobbing. She never bothered to pull out the couch bed so she’s lying on the cushions covered in the cashmere throw we keep on the sitting room couch. Charlie looks so tiny—fragile—like a breakable china figurine that my mom kept on a high shelf in the dining room. Her body is quivering making the blanket appear to be vibrating. The choked noises that she’s making is enough to shatter my heart into a million tiny pieces.

 

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