Textual Encounters: 2
Page 11
So he can read about my relationship with YOU? I don’t see how he’ll care about us. Even you don’t care and you’re part of it.
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12:03pm:
Well, mostly so he can read about your relationship with his wife. You’ve admitted a lot, Jake. I also have a pic of Rachel leaving your apartment. This man is a good person. He’s innocent. He deserves to know.
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Jake
12:06pm:
Where are you? Can we talk about this before you go and fuck up someone else’s life?
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12:06pm:
You’ll never see or hear from me again, Jake. Now I have to go. Will is here.
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Jake
12:07pm:
You realize you’re a selfish fucking cunt, don’t you? This has nothing to do with Rachel. It has everything to do with me and you and a woman named Christine that I will never see again.
12:13pm:
Bitch! I pray (and you should do the same) that I never see your fucking face again!
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7:45pm:
Hi.
7:53pm:
Jake, my name is Will. You know who I am, right? And now I know everything. If you try to contact my wife again, I will kill you. Do you understand me?
7:56pm:
I need an answer, Jake. Because if you don’t text me back, I will show up at your apartment. You have until 830 to acknowledge my text. At 831, I’m getting my shoes on and taking a walk.
8:11pm:
Tick tock.
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Jake
8:29pm:
Acknowledged.
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8:29pm:
Smart move, Jake.
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Jake
8:31pm:
Fuck. You.
As the taxi stops outside the building, it finally makes perfect sense where the Samsung came from – Will. He knew as soon as I lost the baby that it wasn’t mine. He knew all about Jake. It must have killed him.
“Hey, Lady? You okay?” the driver asks me.
I wipe my eyes. I hate Katie for ruining my life with Will. She broke his heart, she broke Jake’s and she tried to break mine. With one phone, that little bitch is responsible for way too much heartache.
“Time to pay,” the driver says as if he can read my mind.
“Can you wait? I’ll be fifteen minutes.”
He sighs. “I wait five. You not here, I leave.”
I nod, hurrying out of the car and through the rain to the building. The doorman greets me, then waves me over.
“I’m in a hurry,” I tell him. “The cab is waiting.”
He steps closer to me, keeps his voice low. “Maria sent a suitcase down for you.”
He motions toward his desk; one of the larger Samsonites from our honeymoon waits for me. I won’t even get to see the inside of the Penthouse one last time, say goodbye to Maria who shared so many of my secrets. Then again, it seems her loyalties lie with Will anyway.
“Can I get the bag for you, Rachel?” he asks.
Grabbing it by the handle, I shake my head, no. I roll it out to the taxi, but the driver gets out to load it into the trunk. It’s the first hint he gives me that he has a heart. I get into the car and wait for him, wondering where I should go. Michelle and Romina would likely make room for me. But neither of them are hurting like I am right now. I need someone else. I need-
And then it hits me. I grab the Samsung and take a stab at the dark as the driver gets into the car and asks me where we’re going.
“Give a minute.”
I tap a quick message in jAppe:
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12:48pm:
Jake, are you there? It’s Rachel. We need to talk.
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“Lady, I’m busy. I need an address.”
I rhyme off Jake’s address like it’s my own.
Except Jake doesn’t respond, and that gets me thinking that maybe he meant it when he told me it was over that last time he bent me over his bed and filled me with his honey from behind. I love it when he comes inside me, love the warmth of having him with me for the rest of the day.
I tap away again.
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12:53pm:
Text me when you can. Will knows everything. I’m using the key you gave me two months ago. I need a place to crash. And we need to talk about what you said about me to Katie. Asshole.
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And we would talk. Well, most likely I would yell and he would try to make shit up. And while it hurts to know that he said those things, I know that Jake loves me. Still. Always.
At last, the Samsung vibrates in my hand.
It’s a message. From Jake.
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Jake
12:55pm:
I’m coming home. Be there in half an hour. Make yourself at home.
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12:55pm:
Thank you.
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Jake
12:56pm:
Should I bring anything home with me?
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12:57pm:
Just your “appetite.”
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Jake
12:58pm:
Don’t worry about that. I’m always hungry for you.
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12:59pm:
And after, we’ll talk about Katie.
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Jake
12:59pm:
I’m sorry if you read everything. I guess I’ll have to make sure I last extra long, then.
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Tapping away at the keys, I’m smiling at his sense of humor, even though I will rip him a new one after he’s done fucking me.
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1:00pm:
Jake, I’m pissed about what you said.
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Jake
1:00pm:
But you still love me. Right…?
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1:01pm:
Of course I do. And you still love me. Right…?
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Jake
1:01pm:
I never stopped. I never will. Just like I promised.
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1:02pm:
You promised Katie the same thing.
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Jake
1:02pm:
Touché. I’ll see you in a bit.
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I’m still smiling as we arrive at Jake’s building. The driver gets out of the car and helps me with getting the suitcase out of the trunk. I give him a decent tip and I’m walking toward the front door when I hear him call at me.
“Lady. You forgot this.”
I turn around and he’s waving a phone at me. I give him a smile, then shake my head. “It’s not mine. Toss it in the lost and found bin or something. I don’t want it.”
He frowns like I’m crazy. I take that as my cue to walk away. So that’s why I do.
Jake will be home soon and I want to have a shower, get under the sheets so there’s no wasting time. We have a lot of time to make up for.
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A Sneak Peek Into:
Christine’s Return
A Textual Encounters Story
Suicide can be a tough pill to swallow if you don’t like taking pills in the first place. But in all fairness, ever since I pissed blue on the home pregnancy test a little more than three months ago, even swallowing a limp noodle triggers my gag reflex – and here I’m talking about a larger noodle, like Fusilli or, oh god, I’m gagging just thinking about it, Rigatoni. So trying to swallow a couple of expired OxyContins at Jake’s bathroom sink simply doesn’t want to work.
Because just when I think I’ve got one down, it comes projecting its way back up, forcing me to my knees in front of the toilet. It might sound shallow of me, but I don’t want him to find me in a pile of my own vomit. It’s not only unlady-like, but my plan will backfire.
So yeah, staging this suicide is a tough pill to swallow, which is exactly what I’m thinking about when I hear the noise outside the bathroom.
He’s home.
I creep up to the closed bathroom door and listen. And that’s when I hear the woman’s voice. My first thought: WTF?
She says to him: “I’ll be right back.” Which is woman-code for she needs to go to the bathroom. And I’m in it. Shit.
I step away from the door and study the small floor. Shit.
I hadn’t planned on him bringing this young whore home. She’s too young for him and although I realize he has been making love to her since I eased out of the picture, I also know that they’ve had a tough time getting along. Again, she’s young which means high maintenance.
Acting quickly, I take a spot on the floor, turn my head to the side, and freeze in a runner’s pose that I’m sure looks like something out of a CSI episode. That’s when I realize the pills are still in my hand. Shit.
Outside, I hear the footsteps.
I let a dozen pills slip out of the canister, then close my eyes as the bathroom door opens and catches on my foot.
The young girl stifles a scream.
And Jake asks: “Everything okay?”
The girl doesn’t say anything. Because she’s in work mode, kneeling beside me, taking my pulse. I open my eyes a crack and see her counting seconds off her watch. She doesn’t look as young up close and her hair seems a little darker than I thought. I snap my eyes back shut when her attention shifts and she touches my swelling belly.
“Pregnant,” she whispers. “But alive. Good vitals.”
She pulls the pills out of my hand and studies the canister.
“This isn’t…” she whispers. “Oh, I know you.” She gives me a shake, as if to wake me up, then leans in close. I feel something sliding into my pocket. “I know you’re not dead. I’m not a fucking idiot.”
I reach down and seize her wrist, stopping her. I recognize the feel of my iPhone in an instant.
“Well, well,” she says. “Nice to finally meet you.” She pats my belly. “I’m guessing you’re not bloated.”
“Who. Are. You?”
“I’m the girl Jake’s in love with.”
“It’s time for you to get back to your babysitter… Katie.” I pat my belly this time. “Your fuck buddy is going to be a daddy, and I need to have an adult conversation with him.”
Katie looks confused but then she stands, smirks at me and crosses her arms. I can see in the mirror’s reflection that she has a tattoo on the back her neck. It surprises me that Jake likes this girl.
“Jake!” I call out.
“You really want to do this?” Katie asks.
“How’d you get my iPhone?” I ask, pulling it from my pocket.
“The Tooth Fairy. You’d think someone as careful as you would have known how to lock the screen.”
“Blame it on the pregnancy-” I start, but stop when-
Jake appears at the door.
His eyes go wide at the sight of me. “Christine,” he says in a sucker-punched kind of way. “What are you doing here?”
I rub my belly while staring him down. “Who is this?”
Jake doesn’t even look at her and I can sense the stinging in her eyes. It sucks being someone’s second choice. I remember feeling that way about Rachel.
“Jake,” I say with a quiver in my voice. “It’s been horrible.”
“Where have you been?” he asks me.
“Hiding. From Peter. He’ll kill me if he sees me like this.” I stare down at my belly, give it another rub so as to hammer the point home.
“Holy shit,” he says. “Is that…?”
I give a nod in Katie’s direction. “Jake, can we speak in private? Maybe send the girl guide home?”
“Sure. Yes. Yes, I’m sorry.” He faces Katie at last, and she simply shakes her head. The redness on her cheeks is a telling tale of her burnt disappointment.
“Fuck you, Jake. When this whore breaks your heart again, don’t call me.” She turns to leave, but comes back and fires a fist at Jake’s nose. “Asshole.”
At last, she leaves, slamming doors and knocking stuff to the floor as she goes. Funny, even though I expected her to look younger, a lot younger, she behaves exactly like a teenager would. Oh well, not everyone ages well and Katie was a perfect example of that.
I let out a chuckle, and then Jake chuckles behind the hand holding his nose. When he pulls his hand away from his face, there’s a little bit blood just like there would have been in a movie. But not like when Peter used to beat me to a pulp, not bloody like that.
I open my arms to him, and he melts into me, squeezing me tight. Then he notices the pills on the floor.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
“I wanted…”
“You wanted what?”
“I wanted to get your attention.”
He rubs my belly. “You’ve got my attention with this.” He takes my hand and leads me out of the bathroom to the sofa where we made love seventy-seven days ago. I’ve missed him. A lot.
“This isn’t a happy story, Jake,” I tell him.
He frowns, uncertain. “Is this… am I the…?”
“Yes, of course! You’re the father. But getting here wasn’t easy. Peter is a lunatic. He will kill you. And me. You realize that, right?”
The frown deepens. “What are you talking about?”
“Have you heard about Eduardo Moreno? In the building across the street?”
The color drains for his face and he nods. Everyone in Manhattan has heard about Eduardo being found in a dumpster after someone beat him to death. Incredibly, the police still haven’t tracked Peter down and arrested him for the murder.
“He died for us, Jake. He died so I could get here. To be with you.”
That scares him a little more, and I feel him withdraw a tad. Understandable. Someone died for his happiness, but that’s just how things work in real life. Look at the brave soldiers who fight our wars. The way I see it, Eduardo was a soldier too. He made a sacrifice for the greater good of my love for Jake.
“He died for us?” he asks. I don’t blame him for coming across as a little retarded – he has been spending a lot of time with Katie after all.
“Do you want to hear the story? Or just get caught up in the minutia?”
He takes a big gulp of air. “Okay, let’s hear it.”