by Jaycee Ford
“But I didn’t—”
“And now you know. It’s better that you know.” She wrapped her arms around me. “I swear. You don’t want that. You don’t want a guy who needs to go somewhere else.” As if on cue, my phone started to ring. His song played over and over, not letting up. She pulled out of our hug with her face wrinkled in annoyed confusion.
“Why is he calling you?”
I released a sighing exhale.
“Because he calls every day.”
“Why haven’t you changed your number?”
I shrugged my shoulders in reply, but I knew that a part of me needed the constant reminder to never trust someone that much again. No man was worth all of this pain.
“Tell him to stop.”
I shook my head. “I’ve tried that. It doesn’t—”
“You tell him to fucking stop, or I’m going to.”
I nodded as I pulled out my phone before dropping my bag back to the floor. I stared at the screen lighting up with Ryan’s name across it. It continued to ring within my grasp. I didn’t move fast enough and Katherine snatched it from my hand. She swiped her finger across the surface, and as soon as she placed it up to her ear, I grew a pair and snatched it back.
“Ryan, I’ve asked you to stop calling me.”
Before I could exhale, Katherine showed her distaste.
“Tell him to stop. Tell!” He could hear her clearly through the phone, but what did it matter anymore.
“Ryan, stop calling me.”
He breathed heavily into the phone, and with a scratchy voice, he said, “Sweetheart, you know I won’t stop until you come back home.”
Katherine’s constant encouraging glare gave me some sort of confidence that I needed.
“Well, I hate to break it to ya, but that ain’t happening.”
“Well, I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re going to have a little trouble stopping me.” His voice made me cringe with a mix of emotions I couldn’t place. He laughed and continued, “And I always get what I want.”
“You know what, Ryan? Whatever.” I hung up. I looked up at Katherine, holding the tears back as best as I could.
“I never did like him. A year ago, you would have never allowed yourself to turn into what you’ve turned into now. And all because of a guy like him?”
My chest hollowed at her words. “I was going to marry him.”
“Well, I should have spoken up sooner then, and that’s my fault, but he was obsessive and controlling, and you just let him get away with it time and time again. I never knew why, and I never approved.”
I grabbed my bags without saying a word, and marched to her second bedroom, where I usually stayed after nights of partying—where I had been staying when I met Ryan out with his coworkers the beginning of last summer. I wished I had never gone into that bar and let him buy me drink after drink. I was putty in his hands from that point on, and I was still a mess.
My best friend, out of all people, couldn’t tell me what kind of man I was marrying. Was I that blind? How could he have brainwashed me so much into thinking he was so perfect? Why did I believe him to be so perfect?
The sun beamed against the mocha-colored walls, and my eyes winced from the glare. I dropped my bags in the middle of the floor and immediately went to the window. I shut the curtains and huddled within the darkness. I turned back toward my bags and headed for the one I needed most. The zip echoed in the empty space as I heard the front door close behind Katherine’s departure for work. The welcoming sight of six bottles of red grinned at me, and when I found my corkscrew, the first smile in weeks eased up my face.
• • •
The thick glass of an empty wine bottle hit the carpeted floor with a thud. I stared off into the distance of vast nothingness, my gaze settling on the plaster ceiling. I had given that man a year, and ended with being sucked into a black hole. I was scared that it would never allow me to escape. What did it matter anymore? The phone rang again as it had over and over while I had been holed up in Katherine’s guest room for the past three days. How could he want me so badly, yet go to someone else when I couldn’t be there? Was I that awful of a person?
I reached over to the nightstand only to find nothing there. I peeked over the bed and counted nine empty wine bottles, six of mine and three of Katherine’s that I had stolen yesterday. Her stash of wine was vast. I doubted she would even notice. As if on cue, Katherine burst into my room, slamming the door back against the wall.
“That’s it! You’re out!”
“What…” I garbled, hearing her clearly, yet barely comprehending.
“I can’t take your self-pity. Get up. I can’t deal with babying your ass anymore. You have the strength to deal with this, even if you don’t believe you do.” She glared at me, crossing her arms over her chest. I shot up into a sitting position and winced from the alcohol-induced head rush. When my eyes focused after a momentary lapse, I glared right back at my supposed best friend.
“Katherine!”
“Oh, don’t Katherine me! You are getting a dose of tough love! Get up!” Katherine pulled me to my feet and pushed me out into the hallway and toward the bathroom.
“You stink! Take a bath!” She slammed the door behind her, but continued to yell, “We’re going out tonight or I am seriously shipping you off to Vegas to meet your parents. And you know I have the means to do so!”
The slam of the door awoke something inside of me and pulled me out of the trance that had taken over my mind for the past few weeks without Ryan. Turning the water to a scalding temperature, I undressed and tossed my clothes into the trash can, solidifying my first step toward a life without him. As I stepped underneath the cleansing water, the heat tingled across my skin, and I slowly scrubbed the grime, washing it all away.
I emerged from the bathroom in a robe with a towel wrapped around my hair. Katherine’s tough love seemed to help, or maybe not smelling like a hyena was what helped. Either way, I actually felt like getting out and doing something for the first time in weeks. When I walked into the living room, I noticed Katherine was wearing a jean skirt with a tank top and a pair of cowboy boots.
“Cowboy boots? What’s the occasion?” I asked as I helped myself to even more wine.
“We, my dear friend, are going to Whisky River.”
I instantly perked up with the knowledge of my Friday night.
“I love Whisky River.” I took a long sip of white and it was stolen from me. I gasped as a little wine sloshed out of the glass.
“I know. Go get ready so we can have a girls’ night.”
I snatched my wine glass back.
“I need this to go get ready.”
• • •
A pair of hip-hugging jeans with a tight, plaid-button up shirt covered my body as my trusty cowboy boots clicked against the floor into Whisky River. The bar was packed with weekend revelers. We waited in line for a drink as Katherine gasped beside me.
“What?” I hollered over the crooning of Luke Bryan.
“Hot attorney, hot attorney.” Katherine worked at a law firm in the city. She definitely had a thing for men in suits; however, when I followed her eyes, they landed on a blond in jeans and a buttoned-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I nudged her in the middle of her gawking.
“Go tell him hi.”
She shook her head and looked back toward me.
“Way out of my league.”
“Oh, please.”
She placed her hands on my shoulders, and her brown eyes widened with determination.
“Tonight is about you, and we’re about to have fun, chick.” We moved up in line and Katherine ordered. “I need two drafts and two shots of whiskey.”
“Whiskey, huh?”
“Yep. Now, what do you want?”
• • •
A mixture of wine, beer, and whiskey filtered through my body with no best friend in sight, but I owned the dance floor like no one had before. At least, I felt that way. I
t was more than likely the whiskey owning it, but I didn’t care. I swayed my hips to the beat of Trace Adkins as strong arms weaved around my waist. Hips massaged into me as I let the beat lead the way. I was single and free. I aimed to do whatever I wanted without the responsibility of being a controlled wife, and right now, it felt damn good. A hand pushed the hair off my neck and light kisses peppered up to my ear.
“I told you I always get what I want.” I froze at the sound of his voice. “Why are you dancing like a slut and letting any and every bastard grind up on you?”
He pressed himself harder against me and I tried to pull away, searching for anyone’s attention for help. His arm yanked me closer as his fingers threaded through my hair and pulled my head to the side. He nibbled my ear lobe, an act that used to make me willingly fall to my knees, but all I could do now was tremble in terror.
“Ryan, let me go!” I yelled over the music. My hair was pulled back and then his grip released. Katherine’s hot attorney had pulled him off me as she grabbed my hand. We ran straight for the exit with his words chasing after me.
“I will find you, Jordan!”
The tears that I had kept bottled up during the evening blurred my vision as we hopped into a cab. Katherine pulled me into a hug while she told the driver to go. I wept on her shoulder, not for the man I had lost, but for the man he had become. Or maybe, the man he always was, but I was too stupid to see it. I continued to cry, not trying to say a word, as Katherine rubbed my back all the way back to her condo.
• • •
After that night, his ringtone hadn’t blared from my phone for a few days. Peace consumed me, a foreign concept this summer. The school year was approaching soon and I looked forward to my new job and the new possibilities.
A knock came from Katherine’s door. I glanced at the clock as it was just after five. Maybe she had forgotten her keys. I rose from the kitchen table and walked to the door. As I opened it, I gasped, a chill rising up my spine. I tried to slam the door shut, but he wedged his foot inside and pried it open.
“Sweetheart, why do you keep pushing me away? I just want to talk to you. It’s been weeks already. Can’t we talk?” He stood inside the opened door. His disheveled hair edged his menacing eyes, his body strumming with fury.
“I have nothing to say to you, Ryan. You need to leave.” I feigned confidence and stumbled backward, putting as much distance between us.
“Baby, you know I can’t leave you, and you know you can’t live without me.” He moved closer to me. His eyes looked so cold… so haunting. The confidence I needed was nowhere to be found, but I stuck my chin up in the air with a steel face anyway.
“Ryan, what you did is unforgivable. I don’t want you near me.”
He grabbed my shoulders at my last word, keeping me from pulling away.
“Jordan. I’m not going anywhere. You belong to me.”
My body slammed against the wall, but I didn’t fall. I kept my eyes firm on his even though my whole body trembled. He slithered closer to me, my stomach turning with each step.
“Ryan, you have to leave.”
His body pressed against mine. He nuzzled his face against my neck and inhaled the scent of my hair. My body cringed with disgust. The warmth of his breath seared my ear, and he seethed with dominance.
“You. Are. Mine.”
My body trembled as tears rolled down my cheeks. How could I have ever been with someone like him? How did I manage not to see who he really was, all those months I spent with him, a whole year of my life?
The front door slowly pushed open, and then slammed back against the wall.
“What the fuck are you doing here? Get your hands off her or I’m calling the cops! Now!” Katherine barged in as Ryan turned back to look at me with his evil grin and a laugh to match it.
“Another time, sweetheart.” He kissed my cheek, brushing passed Katherine on his way out.
The floodgates opened as I slid down the wall. I had made the decision. I was leaving this city and getting as far away from my ex fiancé as I could.
THE CAR SILENCED with the turn of the key. I stared at what was to be my home for the next few months as I sat motionless in the silence of the countryside. I had to get away. Three months of hell would push anyone out of the city. I just couldn’t do it anymore, and I had to get away before anything worse happened. I had accepted a position as a world history instructor at a community college in the middle of the foothills. I relinquished the highly sought after position at Charlotte Catholic, an opportunity I had desperately wanted. Three months ago, I left my last exam so excited for the promising life that stood in front of me, all to have it taken away within moments. I exhaled one last breath and hugged my purse to me as I got out of the car.
“What is that smell?” I slammed the car door closed behind me and stood in front of an old country inn. The beauty of the weathered, three-story house didn’t match the horrendous odor surrounding it. While I admired the long wrap-around porch, the smell of the cow manure in the heat of the southern summer assaulted my senses, making me gag. I couldn’t help but pinch my nose against the stench.
The horrid smell came back in a wave as the breeze picked up. I grabbed my laptop bag out of the back seat, slung it over my shoulder, and slammed the door all while holding my breath. In an attempt to get inside the inn as fast as possible and away from the stench, I fumbled with the car keys. Once I reached the trunk, they slipped out of my hand and fell to the ground.
“Damn it!” I inhaled again, followed by the now ever-present gag reflex. It was definitely the smell of a farming town. I held my breath as I grabbed my suitcases out of the trunk and slammed it shut. My heels lodged in between the gravel on the path as I stumbled to the front door of the inn. The moment I was inside, I exhaled to the welcoming sound of country chimes.
The scent of cinnamon and apple pie replaced the smell of the farming town that surrounded the quaint inn. Pristine, antiqued, white walls served as a canvas to the largest display of country living I had ever seen. Lace curtains covering the windows flanked the doorway and muted the afternoon sunlight. Wooden rockers steadied on either side of a fireplace, which, thankfully, wasn’t lit. Over the mantel hung a wooden sign simply stating, Welcome to The Inn. Presumably, The meant “The One and Only.”
“Good afternoon. Welcome to The Inn,” a warm female voice said behind me, taking me away from my adoration of the country atmosphere. An older lady stood behind a counter. She was much shorter than me with curly gray hair cut short and hot pink framed glasses that matched her shirt. She looked like quite a character.
“Good morning,” I said while peering down at her name tag, “Ethel.” Of course, her name would be Ethel. “My name is Jordan Hawthorne, and I have a room reservation.”
Mrs. Ethel turned to the oak bookshelves that lined the wall behind her, pulled out a huge ledger, and placed it on the matching wooden counter in front of her. While she perused the aged sheets through her bifocals, her finger slowly skimmed down the page. She stopped halfway down and replied, “Yes, Ms. Hawthorne, here it is, and it’s an open-ended reservation, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am. This will be my home away from home for the time being.”
A natural, warming smile lit up her face.
“Well, welcome! I have you set up in the suite. It should be the most comfortable for you. Across the foyer is the dining room, where breakfast is served between 6:30 and 7:30. If you want some biscuits and gravy, you better be down here early. Those, of course, are my husband’s favorite, so he naturally cooks them every morning. Everyone calls him Chef Al. Unfortunately, dear, he’s not very handy with tools, and there is a slight leak from the sink in your suite. I’ve been trying to get in touch with my nephew to come fix it, but I haven’t got a hold of him today. Would it be all right if he comes by in the morning?” She rattled out the whole thing without taking a breath.
“Oh sure, that won’t be an issue.” I would be getting settled at the commun
ity college anyway. Basking in Mrs. Ethel’s grin, I continued, “This facility wouldn’t be equipped with Wi-Fi, would it?”
Her grin turned into a chuckle. “Oh no, dear, I’m sorry, but down the block is Main Street. There’s a new coffee shop with that fancy coffee that everyone talks about, and they also have the internet. That might be suited better for your work. No reason to be stuck up there in that room.”
Mrs. Ethel continued introducing me to The Inn, and when she finally handed over the key, she instructed me that my suite was number six located on the third floor. With a thankful nod, I picked up my bags, anxious to see where I would be spending the next few months, but before I stepped up the first step, I turned back around.
“For the record, if anyone ever calls looking for me, you’ve never heard of me.”
Her smile faltered for a moment, but she nodded in understanding.
“No problem, dear. I understand.”
“Thank you.” The tightness eased in my chest as I turned back toward the stairs and hauled my luggage up the three flights. The smell of apple pie followed me all the way to my room. As I opened a door marked with the number six, I mumbled, “Home sweet home.”
The afternoon sun hid behind lace curtains as the cool room kept the sweat from dripping down my face. The grip holding the handle of my bag loosened, and it met the floor with a thud, breaking the silence in the vacant room. A pale yellow rug matched the patterned quilt adorning a white iron bed. A few framed paintings hung on the neutral colored walls, mirroring the Blue Ridge Mountains that hid behind the lace curtains. I stepped out of the doorway in awe of how my life had changed so vastly within a few weeks. I went from a fiancé to a girl gone into hiding. How did everything come to this?
The view outside the window beckoned me as I eased myself away from the open door and rolled a suitcase behind me. The door closed by itself as I left the suitcase in the middle of the floor and eyed the view on the other side of the lace curtains. I pushed open one side of the curtains to be graced with rows upon rows of rolling hills, peaking up to the Blue Ridge Mountains in the distance. My shoulders relaxed for the first time in weeks with the sense of calm and peace. Even for just a moment, it eased my aching heart and soothed my bruised ego.