Текст книги "Whipped"

Автор книги: Elizabeth Lee

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

“Hey babe,” I said when she answered the phone. “What’s up?”

“Just got home,” she said. “About to get in the shower.”

“I’m out with Hoyt and Chayse,” I told her even though she didn’t ask. “Just wait until you meet her. She’s really something.” The two of us had talked about the mess Hoyt was in with his new rider and usually she cracked a joke about poor Hoyt’s well-being. This time she didn’t.

“That’s nice.” She was short with her words, more than the last time we’d talked. I could feel her pulling away from me and there wasn’t much I could do except ask her about it.

“Are you all right? Did something happen at work?” We’d been good. Nothing had happened between us to make her angry with me. I searched my brain for anything that I’d said or done and there was nothing.

“I was in the ER so everything happened,” she said. “It was a mess.”

“That sucks, babe,” I said, trying to be there for her.

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You’ll graduate soon and then you can be in whatever department you want. You won’t have to work in the emergency room if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t mean that,” she said slowly. “I mean us. I don’t think I can do this long distance thing.”

“Are you serious right now?” I said after a long silence trying to comprehend what I had just heard. I could tell something was up with her, but I never imagined her saying that.

“It’s too hard.”

“You think I like it?” My voice rose a little and I suddenly remembered where I was. I calmed myself down. “We were fine just a few hours ago,” I said. Something must have happened to cause this panic. “What are you doing, Georgia?”

“I’ve just been thinking,” she said. “A lot. I think it would be easier for both of us if we just ended this now. Before anybody gets hurt.”

“Oh you think it would be easier?” I snapped, already hurt by the conversation. I was doing everything I was supposed to do to make this work between us. I thought she was meeting me halfway, but apparently I was wrong. “Because it sounds to me like you’re giving up.”

“I’m not...” she cleared her throat. “I’m not giving up. I just... I can’t do this again.”

“What are you talking about again?”

“I will not put myself through it,” she said as if she was talking to herself. I had a pretty good idea that she was blurring the lines between me and Jamie at that moment. “I can’t.”

“I’m right here, Georgia,” I tried to coax her back to reality. I could hear her crying, despite her best attempt. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You can’t know that. You can’t make a promise you can’t keep.”

“Please don’t do this,” I said, hearing the desperation echo in my phone. I could feel her pulling away. I could feel her ending something that we’d barely started. “Let’s talk about this.”

“I’m sorry,” she said before the line went dead. She didn’t even give me a chance to plead my case. I dialed her number and it went straight to voice mail. The clench of my fist was threatening to shatter the phone. I put it in my pocket on the chance that she would come to her senses and call me back.

As I walked back to where Hoyt and Chayse were sitting, I felt like I’d been gutted. The walls were closing in on me and everything I wanted to say to her was still on the tip of my tongue. I had to get out of there and call her back. I needed her to hear everything I had to say.

“What’s the matter with you?” Hoyt said as I pulled a twenty from my wallet and tossed it on the bar. Clearly my state of mind was obvious from the look on my face.

“I think Georgia just broke up with me,” I said. Saying the words felt as bad as hearing them. I’d never been dumped. I was usually the dumper, not the dumpee. I was at a loss and I didn’t feel like hashing it out in a bar with Hoyt or Chayse who were both giving me their most pitying looks. I just wanted to call her back.

* * *

Twenty-nine messages and ten phone calls. That’s how many I sent, how many times I tried to call, before I started to feel completely hopeless. The word Delivered never showed up on my screen so I knew that she’d blocked me. Blocked me, like no thank you, do not want to ever hear from you again.

What the fuck did I do?

Nothing. I’d done nothing but love her. Maybe too much if that was possible.

“Give her a few a days,” Hoyt said the next day when I was trying to focus on riding. I’d cased my first jump, the bike landed wonky, slamming me and itself against the ground and almost tossing me off. “Maybe she just needs a little time to realize that she made a mistake.”

“I don’t know,” I said, the heavy sigh I felt building in my chest released as I shook my head. “Maybe I should go to Halstead. Demand that she tell me why.”

“You know why,” he said. “She’s scared. This isn’t exactly conventional, man.”

Oh I knew exactly why, that didn’t mean that I had to be okay with her decision, did it? I’d seen her fall apart. I knew that it made her nervous to think that something could happen to me, but I thought what we had was worth the risk. I thought that she was willing to take a chance.

“Well so am I,” I confessed. “Scared that she’s not going to change her mind.”

“You can’t go,” he said. “You know that Pilsner would be all over your ass if you skipped out on training. The exhibition is in two weeks and he’s counting on your comeback to help secure the new deal,” he paused. I hated that he was right. I knew that my loyalty to Throttled Energy would be thoroughly questioned if I left. The last thing I needed was to lose my livelihood too. “If you haven’t heard from her by then I’ll personally drive you back to Halstead if you want.” I nodded, but I knew exactly what he was thinking. “Maybe she isn’t strong enough,” he said, the look on his face clearly said he hated to be the bearer of bad news. “Your job is a lot to handle. You could get hurt,” he said. “Or worse. She’s already lost one guy she thought she’d spend her life with. Now she has to worry about someone with a job like yours. And let’s face it, Brett. This isn’t a job. It’s a lifestyle. A dangerous one.”

“So what do I do? Quit? Give up what I’ve worked so hard for and hope that she takes me back?” I ran my hand through my hair, frustrated beyond belief, tugging at it as I tried to make sense of it all. She didn’t want to be with me because I loved a job that might kill me. The idea of not riding stung almost as bad as losing her. How did I choose between the two things that made me feel the most alive?

“I didn’t say that.”

“Fuck,” I seethed, putting the kickstand of my bike down. It took everything I had not to kick the son of bitch over. I was frustrated and tired. I hadn’t slept. I hadn’t eaten anything that morning. All I wanted to do was talk to her and she wouldn’t answer her goddamn phone. “This is exactly why I never had a girlfriend.”

“It sucks, man,” Hoyt said, trying to comfort me. I felt bad for dumping this on him. I knew he had his own shit to worry about.

“Yeah it does,” I replied. I walked away from him and left my bike on the side of the track. I wasn’t in the mood to ride or to talk about it anymore. The dust kicked up around me as I walked back to the dormitory. I didn’t even have the option of being somewhere I felt comfortable. My apartment was thirty minutes away and my Airstream was in Halstead. With her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I slapped my hand against one of the cinder block walls of the room. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Every breath was harder than the last to take. I looked at my phone, hoping that maybe she’d come around. That she’d unblocked my number and had responded. But there was nothing. I took a deep breath and sat on the bed, looking around a room that felt more like a prison cell than a home. The four walls were closing in on me and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

Hoyt was right about me leaving, not to mention I didn’t know if there was even a reason to go to her. If she’d made up her mind about me—about us—would I just be wasting my breath? I couldn’t let these feelings destroy everything I worked so hard for. I wouldn’t be that guy that fell apart over some girl. If this is what she wanted then fuck it, she could have it. She could have it all.

I stood and walked over to the mirrored dresser that sat across the room. Staring at a man I barely recognized. I’d gotten soft. I’d let her weasel her way in and stupidly believed that love was enough to keep two people together. My teeth were gritted as I tried to settle myself down. I just wanted to not feel this way. The feelings of inadequacy or helplessness, it was all a waste of time. I’d focus on what I knew was a certainty. I was going to get on my bike in two weeks and wow the shit out of that sponsor. I was going to cement my place at the top of the heap right where I fucking belonged.

A false sense of calm came over me as I tried to channel my energy into work. If I wanted to forget about her I would. I started by grabbing the bottle of whiskey off my nightstand. I twisted the cap off and let it fall to the floor. I wouldn’t need it. I drained the remainder of the bottle and tossed it in the trashcan. I unpacked a set of clippers that I kept in my suitcase and added the blond hair she loved to run her fingers through to the trashcan. I didn’t want a single fucking memory of her. If she could avoid the undeniable pull between us, so could I.

I ran may hand over my freshly buzzed cut, and told the unrecognizable man in the mirror that I was going to be just fine without her.

“What do you think?” I asked my sister. Our tour of the winery had just finished up and we were waiting in a small tasting room for our guide to return. The grounds were beautifully maintained and the ideas for decorations were already flowing. “I love it.”

“This place is perfect,” Nora agreed as we walked over to a small table.

“I think so,” I agreed. “We’ll do the wedding in the chapel and the reception here in the main building. Aren’t these wood floors and brick walls fantastic?” I paused, thinking out the layout in my head. “And the beams,” I pointed up at the high ceilings. “So cool.” The space was very rustic and charming. “Maybe we could hang a few chandeliers. Really make a statement.” It was going to be the perfect backdrop for Nora and Reid’s I Do’s. “I think you could fit one hundred people comfortably. Maybe even one fifty. Have you even made a guest list yet?”

“We’ve—”

“And what are you thinking as far as colors? I think red is good color for a winter wedding, but I know how much Reid loves his Yamaha blue.” I laughed. “I will not wear a royal blue dress. Maybe we can compromise with a deep purple? Or just classic black.”

“Can you hold on for just a second,” Nora said, placing her arm on my shoulder. “Not that I don’t appreciate your help with the wedding, but I think maybe you’re avoiding what’s really on your mind. Can we talk about what happened with Brett now? I’ve let you distract yourself for long enough.”

“I’m not avoiding anything, Nora,” I insisted, tugging down the sleeves of my sweater. “Whatever that was with Brett is over now. Let’s focus on the future like you’re always saying. Your wedding is in the very near future and I want it to be perfect,” I huffed. I knew what she wanted from me, but like I told her when she arrived a day ago. I was fine. I’d made my peace with ending things with Brett. There was nothing to talk about.

I had told Brett I was sorry on the phone that night. I knew he wanted to talk me out of ending our relationship, but I wouldn’t let him. The pain that he was feeling—the pain that I could hear in his voice—would eventually subside. He would move on and forget about me, just like I would forget about him. That was the lie I kept telling myself after I’d hung up the phone. I knew if I didn’t that I’d probably let him talk me into continuing our relationship. Every time I thought about him flying through the air on that dirt bike, my mind drummed up the worst-case scenarios. All of which ended with me being alone and hurting beyond repair. I’d barely survived losing Jamie. There was no way I’d make it through losing Brett.

It hurt to tell him that I didn’t want to be with him, but what other choice did I have?

“You are such a liar,” Nora said pointedly. “I know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Oh and what’s that?” I shook my head. Before she had a chance to answer, our hostess for the day returned with a tray of tasting glasses, each filled with the selection of wine the winery offered.

“Okay ladies,” she smirked. “Now for the fun part.” She went on to explain the different reds and whites she had for us. My sister gave me a look that said our conversation was far from over.

I picked up one of the glasses, not even bothering to swirl or sniff it. I had no idea if any of the flavors the woman was describing were there. It was in my mouth and down my throat so quickly that my taste buds didn’t even have time to register.

“I’ll take some more of this one,” I said, placing my glass on the tray. “Or this,” I added, holding up a glass of the red and tossed it back. “They all taste good to me.” I would have emptied the tray, but my sister cleared her throat instead and gave me a reprimanding glare. I wasn’t doing this. I wasn’t going to dredge up something that, in the long run, wasn’t ever going to happen. No matter how badly my sister wanted to talk about it. What was the point?

At the end of the day, Brett would still be doing something that might kill him. He would still be risking his life every time he got on that dirt bike. No matter how much I wanted to be with him. Or thought about him. Which was pretty much every second of every day. Everything reminded me of him. I couldn’t open a book without wishing he was there to help me study. Every male patient looked like him in the hospital. Every song reminded me of our relationship—especially the ones that talked about living without the person you loved. I couldn’t even enjoy a Coke anymore. Plus side, I was going to be thinner for Nora’s wedding without those empty calories, which meant I’d look great in whatever color dress she picked out for me.

“Can you give us a minute,” Nora said with a smile.

“Of course.” Our hostess nodded as she excused herself, probably grateful to get away from the girl downing wine samples like it was her job..

“Go on,” Nora pointed at the few wine glasses I hadn’t drank. “Have another,” she insisted, pulling her dark hair to one side. “You’re a chatty drunk. Maybe I’ll finally get the whole story about why you ended things with Brett.”

“What’s the point?” I argued. “It’s not going to change anything.”

“It might.”

“Nothing I say or you say is going to change the fact that I’m not strong enough to be in a relationship with him.”

“You are stronger than you give yourself credit for,” she replied. “I don’t know many people who would even be able to get out of bed after losing their fiancé, but you’ve managed. You’ve accomplished more in the past three years than most.”

I shook my head. I could already feel my eyes starting to well with tears.

“I mean it. You’re top of your class. You work harder than any person I know. And you’re about as selfless as they come. You can make things work with him if you want. You just have to stop being scared.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I know you love him, G,” she said. “I also know that you’re scared because the last person you loved was taken from you, but that’s no reason to punish yourself... or Brett.”

“I’m not punishing anyone. I’m just trying to protect myself. And I’m letting him go now before it’s too late and I can’t.”

How couldn’t she see that? How couldn’t he see that? I knew that he was angry with me and deserved an explanation, but it was easier just to block his texts and calls. I’d made up my mind. There was nothing left to discuss. “I see people die all the time,” I told her. “It’s hard enough to watch families fall apart at the hospital every day. I don’t need to put myself in a situation like that. Not again.” I sniffled. “Just the other day I had to watch a doctor tell a woman that her husband was never coming back. And they had two little ones,” I explained, my tears started to fall as I thought about that sweet little girl I’d taken care of while her mother was saying goodbye to her husband. The little girl who wouldn’t even remember her father. “I don’t want to be that woman, Nora. I don’t want to have to explain to my children that their father is gone. And for what? So he could jump a motorcycle over some stupid hill?”

“You’re already assuming the worst case scenario. You don’t know what the future holds.”

“Yeah well, there’s a pretty good chance with your husband flying through the goddamned air every day, relying on faith and two wheels to keep him alive, that it might happen.”

“You think I don’t know that?” she said. “I do live with it every day, but it doesn’t change the fact that I wouldn’t give up my time with Reid for anything. I’d rather take a risk than not have him. I’d rather have the wedding and the children and the memories. Wouldn’t you? You’re acting like he’s gone already when he’s right in front of you. Still alive and wanting to build a life with you. You really think you can just let him go? Do you want to?”

“I don’t know.” It wasn’t the answer she wanted but it was all I had. I could see my future with Brett which made it that much harder to imagine it being cut short.

“Wouldn’t you rather be happy for as long as you can now, rather than be alone and sad?”

“I’m not sad,” I told her. “And I’m so busy that I barely have time to think about being alone.” A lie. I constantly thought about him not being with me. I missed the feel of his touch. I missed his kisses. His laugh. Even the way he said stupid things like “gots.” I missed our late night calls and the anticipation of seeing him again. I missed knowing that he was mine and I was his.

The last couple weeks had been miserable. Every night I climbed into bed alone and wished that he was there. Every time I passed a test or had a good day of clinical, I wanted to call him and tell him about it. I wanted to know that he’d had a good day riding, instead of sitting around thinking the unthinkable had happened.

“We all know what you’re doing. The more stressed you are about a situation the more you keep busy,” she pointed out. “I see you’ve added wedding planning to the list of things you have to do.”

“I’m the maid of honor. It’s my job,” I defended, not wanting to tell her that she was spot on with her observations.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself, Georgia,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “You’re missing out on your life and it makes me sad.” The tough love Nora was firing at me had my nerves running on full speed. I picked up another glass of wine and tried to numb the feeling. What if she was right? I mean, I knew she was. Could I live with the regret of not giving it a shot with Brett?

“What choice do I have?” I tossed my hands up in frustration. “Just call him up and say I made a mistake. Oh, and by the way, I’m sorry you’re going to have to deal with my anxiety-ridden ass the rest of your life.”

“He would,” she said. “He knew what he signed up for when he fell for you, G. You’re not giving him enough credit. You know he still texts you every day, even though you blocked him?”

“He does?”

“Yep. And Reid says he checks his phone every five minutes waiting to hear back from you.”

Maybe she was right. He had been more than willing to see past my issues. He hadn’t run away from me yet. Even now, when I was giving him a perfectly good out, he was still trying to contact me. My heart and my head had been in a constant battle since I’d broken up with him.

“I wanted to call him back,” I confessed. “I wanted to read all of his texts. I’m just so confused.”

“Maybe you need to talk it out with him. He’s as much a part of this relationship as you are. It’s not really fair of you just to end things. Especially the way you did. Just out of the blue and on a whim.”

“But—”

“Georgia, stop and think for a second. If you had known from day one for sure exactly what date and time Jamie was going to be taken from you, would you have done anything differently? Cheated yourself and him out of what time the two of you did have together?”

My vision blurred from the tears welling in my eyes. “No,” I mumbled.

“And if I told you right now that Brett had a terminal illness and had six months to live, how would you want to spend the next six months? Be honest. With yourself at least.”

I closed my eyes and let the tears fall. “With him,” I whispered. “As much as humanly possible.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”