Текст книги "The Opportunist"

Автор книги: Tarryn Fisher

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

“Seedless,” she mumbles. Juice squirts from her lips and onto the refrigerator door. I wipe the smudge off with a paper towel and toss it into the trash.

We make our way up a winding flight of stairs, our heels clicking against the butter colored marble.

Cammie pauses at what appears to be the master bedroom door.

“Uh, uh I’m not going in there,” I say, backing up a few steps. I would rather sever a hand than see their bedroom.

“Well, I’m looking,” and with that she pushes the door open and disappears inside.  I stroll in the opposite direction. I walk down a long hallway that is lined with 8x10 black and white photographs. Caleb and Leah cutting their wedding cake, Caleb and Leah standing on a beach, Leah smoking a cigarette in front of the Eiffel tower—I turn away disgusted. I don’t want to be here anymore, this is their place; where they laugh and eat and have sex.  I can’t believe how things have changed. I feel slightly left behind; like I am waking from a coma and finding out the world moved on without me. Why do I still feel the same when everyone else is different?

I head back downstairs to wait for Cammie. And then I see it—a door, an oval door.  Caleb always told me that one day when he built a house he wanted to have the door to his office resemble one of those heavy medieval things you see in movies. I edge toward it and reach out to lift the circular handle that is almost as big as my head.  It swings open and the sigh of new house and cologne hits me in the face.

It doesn’t even smell like him. In the last four years he has changed his cologne, I get that coma feeling again.

There are walnut bookshelves lining every wall, filled with novels and textbooks and the occasional knick-knack. I veer toward the desk and seat myself in his enormous swivel chair. I take it for a spin and wheel myself around.  This is his favorite room in the house. I can tell. Everything he loves and likes and hates is in here. Autographed baseballs in a wall rack. I can almost see him extracting one from its display and tossing it into the air a few times before he lovingly puts it back. A very diverse music selection sits in a messy pile next to his computer monitor. I notice in mild delight that the CD from the music store is among them and then there’s the model Trojan horse that his father gave him when he missed his 21^st birthday party. It was made out of solid bronze and needless to say, it was very heavy.  Caleb hated the thing, but he always kept it on display because he said it reminded him to be a man of his word. I pick it up and turn it over until the horse’s belly is facing up. There is a small trapdoor there that nobody knows about. Caleb once told me that he stored memories inside of it—memories that he didn’t want anyone else seeing. I bite my lip before pulling it open. What was one more crime right? My spreadsheet was already extended past ‘far gone’.

My fingers grab onto something thin and papery. I tug it out gently and unroll a vellum script of some sort. It is a drawing done with the snubbed tip of a charcoal pencil. At the bottom of the page the artist signed his name: C. Price Carrol in large, flowing letters. The artwork is of a woman’s face. She is smirking and there is a slight smudge of a dimple on her cheek.  I stare at the face I recognize, but can’t quite place—not because it is bad artwork, but because it has been a long, long time since I have last seen it.

“Jessica Alexander,” I say outloud, studying her wide eyes, “another person who trusted me and I screwed over.” I re-roll the paper and set it to the side. I wonder how often Caleb still thinks of her. Does he picture what his life would have been like with her? Does he picture what it would have been like with me?  Does he even think of me?  I reach in again and this time I pull out something metal and round. Caleb’s thumb ring: the one with the star and the diamond that I gave him for a birthday. I sigh as I put it to my lips. So, he hides it away? At least he kept it, right?  Maybe some nights when he is alone and listening to that CD, he pulls it out and thinks about me. A girl can only hope. I pull out a miniature hourglass after that, in which the tiny grains of sand are silver, and then a small booklet, whose colored pages of: black, red, white, gold and green have no words. I don’t know what memories these trinkets come from, after me, I guess. I place the ornament upright on his desk and small tinkling catches my ear.

Where had I heard that sound before? My gaze sweeps the desk, and then the floor around it, looking for the culprit. Where…where? There! My hands scoop it up and a bleat escapes my throat. I don’t know if I am surprised or if I knew that he would find it all along, but my mouth feels dry as I turn the object over in my palm. The penny, our penny. Had he gone to my apartment after I left, to find me? Had he seen it lying there on my abused coffee table? My eyes tear up as I imagine how confused he must have felt. How had he known to take the one thing that symbolized the start of our romance? Leah must have told him, I realize bitterly. Despite her promise to me, she must have dished up the truth with a sick satisfaction. To keep him away from me, because she must have known he would try to find me.  I am sulking, slouched, and nauseated when I hear my name being called. It echoes across the big house like it is being sung by a backup singer.

“Olivia!” Cammie comes careening into his office, snapping me out of my daze. She is waving something in her hands, her blonde hair bouncing every which way in her excitement.

“Olivia,” she says again, her eyes wide. “There is something you need to see.”

She holds up a manila envelope, which she then tosses towards me on the desk.

“Where did you find this?” I don’t want to touch it.

“Just shut your mouth and open it,” she folds her arms across her chest and I can’t help but notice how worried she looks.  I reach out to grab it and gently push open the top allowing its contents to spill onto Caleb’s desk. Letter’s, pictures……I study them for a minute, before I feel shock waves pass through my body.

“Oh my gosh! Cammie?” I look at her shaking my head. I am so utterly confused.

“I told you so,” she says. “Read them.”

“Lying on the desk are pictures of me…and Turner. There is the engagement shot, the one that we had professionally taken after he proposed and a shot of us at the zoo together during our first year of dating.

“I don’t understand—” I say blankly and Cammie, dear, detective Cammie, points to the pile of letters.

“Am I going to be upset?” I ask biting my lower lip.

“Very.”

I pull at the first letter. It is written by hand on plain white sheet of paper.

Hello Jo,

I know you hate it when I call you that, but I can’t resist.

It’s a strange request that you’ve propositioned me with,

and I must admit my curiosity is peaked. I don’t know what

trouble you’ve gotten yourself into now, but if its anything

like high school…..I’m in!

Joking aside, I do owe you one. Superbowl tickets are worth

my firstborn, so if you want me to take a pretty girl out on a

date, I’m not going to complain.

Anyway, gorgeous I’ll keep you updated on the

status. She better be smokin!

Turner

My wail of anger starts out as a groan and gradually escalates until I sound like a fire truck’s siren. Cammie looks worried, so I calm myself and stop.

“Next one.” I hold my hand out to her, and she places another sheet of paper between my fingers.

Jo-Jo,

Can’t believe this is happening! I mean what the Hell?

 I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that we are

getting married.  I finally took your advice and asked her.

 Wow! I guess I should say thanks. Thanks!

I’ll be in Florida visiting her next month, maybe we can all

do lunch; your man and O and I.  Won’t kill you to talk to her!

 I know there’s some kind of sordid past between the two

of you, but whatever it is, she’ll get over it. You are the

force that brought us together after all. Let’s talk

soon.

The Engaged,

Turner

“Fuck,” I say.

“That’s an understatement,” Cammie walks around to where I’m sitting and flips open Caleb’s copy machine.

“She set me up! She somehow knew I went to Texas and she had one of her friends make moves on me—to keep me away from Caleb!” my voice is getting louder now and Cammie pats me on the shoulder sympathetically.

“Turner is Leah’s friend. She used him and he didn’t even know.”

“Well, she gave him Superbowl tickets. Those aren’t easy to come by you know,” Cammie pushes the start button and a whirring noise fills the room.

“I am engaged to Leah’s stogy.”

I feel like balling my eyes out and breaking her filigree egg at the same time. How could I have been so stupid? No, I wasn’t stupid. There is no way I could have known that Turner and Leah were connected. But, I should have known that she wouldn’t trust me to stay out of Caleb’s life and that she would take extra precautions. I was planning a wedding with her precaution!

“Let’s burn her house down,” I say standing up.

“Now, now, Lucy, this is Caleb’s house, too. No need to punish him for what Leah’s done.” Despite the fact she’s supposed to be Ethel, she uses a Ricky Ricardo accent.

“I just saved her from a twenty– year jail sentence,” I moan. “I defended that disgusting, evil, treacherous little bitch.”

“Yes. Too bad you’re such a kick ass lawyer huh? Anyway, there’s more bad news…”

“More? How could there be more?”

She pulls a stick out of her back pocket and places it in my palm.

“What is it?” I choke, blinking back my tears. Cammie rolls her eyes.

“A fertility monitor.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a test stick used to monitor hormone levels present in your urine…so you can get preggers…”

I flip my hand over and drop it.

“They’re trying to have a baby?” I gasp. Why hadn’t he told me that?

“She is trying to have a baby. I found that little sucker hiding out in a ‘secret’ shoebox with those letters,” she nods to Turner’s correspondence, “and a fertility chart. If they were both trying to have a baby, don’t you think her baby gadgets would be in the bathroom cabinet?”

I stare at her blankly.

“O-livia! She is trying to get pregnant because you are back on the scene She’s scared of losing him. Caleb doesn’t know! You have to stop them before he is trapped forever.”

“Why? I can’t—” I say, miserably slipping into the chair.

  “A fertility chart,” I repeat and I have no idea what that is.

“Yes, it tells her the days she will be most likely to be able to conceive. What century are you from?”

“Did the fertility chart say this weekend?” I feel the breath sucked out of me now, like someone just punched me in the stomach.

Cammie nods.

“Here,” she hands me the photocopies of the letters from Turner. “Look, it’s time to do something. And I’m not talking about your usual routine of sneaky and dishonest. This time you need to tell him the truth and come clean about everything.”

“Like what? What’s left to come clean about? He already knows the big stuff.”

“Like, telling him that Leah ran you off when you left Florida and that she tried to bribe you with money…how about that?”

“That’s not going to make a difference. He already knows she’s as rotten as I am. He freaking loves immoral girls.”

“What about confronting him about his feelings for you? He found you again, even after he knew what you did when he had amnesia. He’s still in love with you, Olivia. You just have to convince him of that.”

I think about how he showed up to my condo the night before Leah’s sentencing. He was always showing up wasn’t he? Showing up at the music store, showing up at the grocery store, showing up in my office. Damn it. Cammie was right, there had to be something to that.

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay,” she agrees. “Now turn that computer on, we have to find out where they went.”

Two hours later, I walk through the door of my condo. The windows are open and the salty sea air hits my face. I take it in in great gulps and start searching for my rat fiancée. I remind myself to be calm, to act like a lady, but when I see him sunbathing on my oversized patio I swear at him loudly, so that he spins around almost dropping his water.

“Here,” I pull the ring from my finger and toss it at him. It goes careening across the tile and spins to a stop at his feet. “I’m going on a trip. When I get back, BE GONE.”

He jumps up looking confused. He is looking left to right like the answer for my erratic behavior can be found there.

“Wha—?”

I take in his salmon colored swim trunks, his Gucci sun glasses, the way he moves like a robot, and I inwardly cringe. What was I thinking?

I wasn’t! I was stuffing something in my heart. Cammie was right!

“You know Leah! All these months of me defending her in court and you never said a word!”

Turner’s face goes white, despite his ridiculous tan. He flaps his hands around like he can’t decide whether to surrender or point at me.

“You dated me for Superbowl tickets!” I am yelling now.

“Yes, but—”

“Shut up! Just shut up.”

I collapse onto a lawn chair and put my head in my hands. I feel like I am ninety years old.

“Turner, we’re not right for each other. I don’t want to marry you, I’m sorry.”

“Well,” he puffs. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

I look at him from between my fingers.

“No, actually,” I sigh and stand up. “I have to go pack.”

I head inside.

“Why?” he calls after me. “Why can’t we work it out?”

  I pause looking over my shoulder.

“There’s nothing to work out. I can’t give you something that I don’t have.

Chapter Eighteen

Eight hours later, I am sitting in business class, sipping on a coke and drumming my fingers impatiently on the beverage tray in front of me.

Caleb and the Scarlet Beast are in Rome. Yes, that’s what I said, Rome. The Bahamas weren’t good enough for her and neither was Marco Island; both of which were listed as top baby making locations on her computer’s Internet history. Instead, she opted for The De La Ville Inter-Continental hotel where her favorite actress Susan Sarandon became pregnant. How do I know such a personal detail? Because, along with breaking into her home with my psychotic best friend, I also hacked into her email account and read a correspondence between her mother and herself.

“Is this your first time to Rome?”

I look over and see a pair of very green eyes looking at me from the seat next door.

“Um, yes,” I clip my words so that I sound as rude as possible and look back out the window. Yucky—chit chattery. I am in no mood to converse. I am on the most important mission of my life.

“You’re going to love it. It’s the best place in the world.”

“Yea, to make babies,” I mumble.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Oh, nothing,” I say. “I’m going there on business, so it’s all work and no fun for me,” I laugh shrilly and pretend to dig around in my purse for something.

“Too bad. You should at least make time to see the Coliseum—absolutely amazing.” I look over at him now because that’s actually not a bad idea. Holy crap! I’m going to Rome! I’m now officially excited. In all the commotion of booking a ticket, throwing things in a suitcase and breaking up with Turner, it completely escaped me.

“Maybe I will,” I say, smiling at him. He wasn’t bad looking. Actually, he was roguishly handsome with coal black hair, caramel skin, and a chiseled jaw. He had one of those distinctly Jewish noses. I suddenly feel self-conscious about my pasty complexion.

“Noah Stein,” he offers me his hand and I take it. “Olivia Kaspen.”

“Olivia Kaspen,” he repeats, “That’s a very poetic name.”

“Well, that’s about the strangest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

I pull a face and he smiles.

“What do you do for a living?” I ask, trying to sound pleasant. Oh, my gosh—I just broke up with Turner—oh-my-gosh!

“I own my own business. You?”

“Lawyer,” I say. I look down and see that my hands are shaking.

“I have to go to the ladies room, do you mind?” He shakes his head and scoots out into the aisle so that I can get past. I almost knock a little girl and a stewardess over as I stumble toward the signs for the lavatory.

Once inside, I collapse in front of the toilet and throw up.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

My entire life has changed in the last few hours and I’m just now realizing it. Turner, poor Turner, but not really, because he dated me for Superbowl tickets. But he loved me, right? Did I love him? No. It was the right thing to do, breaking up with him. It was the only thing to do. I rinse my mouth in the sink and lean back against the wall. This was insanity; rushing off to Italy, chasing after my ex-boyfriend– all on a whim. What would my mother say? I stifle a sob and bite my lip. Alone in Rome; I didn’t even speak Italian, for Pete’s sake. This was bad. This was really, really bad.

I go back to my seat and Noah graciously lets me in without a word about my swollen face. After taking a few large swigs of my flat soda, I slide two fingers underneath my eyes to clear up any smudgy mascara and turn to Noah, frowning.

“I’m not going to Rome on business,” I say, and he doesn’t look surprised. Why should he? He doesn’t know that I’m a perpetual liar.

“Oh,” he says, raising an eyebrow, “Ok.”

I take a deep breath. It feels exhilarating to tell the truth.

“I’m going to find Caleb Drake and when I do, I have to tell him the truth about everything. I am so scared.”

He looks at me with new interest. I’ve transitioned from being a pretty girl, to a woman of intrigue.

“What type of truth is it?”

“A messy one. There’s going to be a lot of clean-up,” I sigh.

“I’d like to hear about it.”

I shift under his gaze. He has the intensity of a nuclear weapon in those two green orbs.

“It’s a long story.”

“Well,” he says raising his hands and looking around the cabin. “It’s going to be a long flight.”

“Okay. I’ll tell you on one condition,” I say, pulling my legs up to my chest and holding them there. Noah looks at my knees and then my face like he can’t quite grasp why a grown woman is sitting like a little girl. “You have to tell me the worst thing you’ve ever done.”

“The worst thing I’ve ever done?” he looks off into some distant memory and grimaces.

“When I was in the ninth grade, there was this girl in my class whom we called Felicity Fattness. As a prank I snuck into her backyard and stole a pair of her underwear off the line and then hung them on the schools front door with a sign that said, Felicity Fattness Wears Parachute Panties. When she saw it, she burst into tears, tripped over her school bag and had to be rushed to the emergency room to have five stitches put into her chin. I felt horrible—still do actually.”

“That was mean,” I say, nodding.

“Yeah, she’s a total babe now. I saw her at my high school reunion and asked her out on a date. She laughed at me, said I’d already seen her panties once and it wouldn’t be happening again.”

I laugh—a real laugh, so that my whole body shakes. Noah joins me. I am still smiling, when I realize that I have another boy scout on my hands.

“So, Felicity? That’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

“I stole a magnet from the dollar store once.”

“Oh boy,” I say. “I’m not sure you’re ready for my story.”

“Try me.”

I look at his face and remember how Caleb once told me that you could judge someone’s personality by their appearance. If this is true, I decide that I can trust Noah because he has the kindest eye’s I have ever seen.

“I fell in love underneath a tree,” I began.

Twelve hours later

It is raining in Rome and I am standing outside of the De La Ville Inter-Continental Hotel, hiding underneath a goofy yellow poncho that is barely shielding me from the pouring rain. I don’t know why I am here right at this moment, as nothing can be accomplished with me looking like a drenched rat. But, I feel the need to see his window and to look at the view his own eyes had been enjoying all morning. Their hotel is small but opulent and it sits majestically on top of the Spanish Steps. I can imagine that you can see the whole city from their little balcony. How romantic. I sigh and continue watching. There is movement behind the window and then a familiar red head emerges and crowds under the awning with a glowing cigarette in her hand. Didn’t she know that nicotine negatively affected fertility?

“Keep smoking,” I whisper, narrowing my eyes. A second later the door pops open again and looking like a Roman god, Caleb emerges to join her. He is shirtless and his hair is damp from a shower, he most likely just took. I pretend that my heart is not doing the electric slide and wipe two fingers underneath my eyes to clear away the mascara that is pooling there. Don’t you touch him, don’t—she reaches out a hand and runs it along his chest seductively. Caleb catches it at the waistline of his pants and laughs.

I look away when he pulls her towards him and wraps his arms around her. My heart begins to ache, a feeling I have been best friends with for the last nine years. I stomp my foot on the pavement agitated and an animal wail emerges from my mouth. I am so freaking sick of loving him.

“Okay Olivia, they are about to put the fertility thing to the test. I have to stop Leah’s spawn from happening,” I sing this to myself while pulling my cell phone from my pocket. The call was going to cost me a fortune, but who cares right? You can’t put a price on love.

Dialing the De La Ville’s number, I stuff myself underneath the overhang of a perfume shop and wait impatiently until I hear the short burst of ringing.

“Buona Sera, De La Ville Inter-Continental. Non ci sono titoli che contengano la parola?” a female voice answers.

“Um…hi…do you speak English?”

“Si. How can I help you?”

“I am trying to reach a guest of your hotel. Mr. Caleb Drake—it’s urgent and I was wondering if you could page him immediately and have him return my call.” I hear her typing something into the computer.

“And your name?” Uh oh! What was his secretary’s name again? It rhymed with Pina Colada…

“Rena Vovada,” I breathe. “I’m calling from his office, tell him it’s important that he calls back right away. Thank you so much.” And I hang up before she has the chance to ask me anymore questions. With the task done, I scurry back into the rain where I have a view of their balcony. Caleb and Leah are still there. She is stubbing out her cigarette with one hand and allowing him to pull her back into the room with the other. I see his head jerk towards the inside of their suite and then their hands breaks lose as he disappears through the door. I imagine that I can hear the distant trill of their room phone.

Good. That would buy me at least a half an hour. Hopefully enough time to kill the mood. Satisfied, I head back to the Montecito Rio, the hotel I had booked myself into earlier. It wasn’t as flashy as the De La Ville, but it was charming nonetheless and I didn’t care a thing for Susan Sarandon.

My shoes are soaked and sloshing water when I traipse into the lobby. The girl behind the counter glares at me and picks up the phone to call maintenance.

“You are Miss Kaspen, no?” She calls after me as I head towards the elevators. I hesitate before turning around.

“Yes.”

“I have a message here for you,” she extends a piece of paper my way and I grip it gingerly between two of my driest fingers.

“From whom?” I was almost too scared to ask, but when she replies, “a Noah Stein,” I feel a calm wash over my anxiety. Noah, the complete stranger that I spilt my guts to, it was nice that he called. It made me feel like being in Rome was no big deal. I had friends here.

I take my note and my still dripping poncho up to my room and climb into the shower without bothering to read the message. Everything including my new buddy Noah was on hold until I was warm and dry.

When I finally emerge, I curl up on the miniscule bed and unfold the wet paper.

Dinner at eight

Tavernetta

You have to eat…

I smile. I did have to eat and why not with someone that I really liked. I pick up the phone and dial the cell number that Noah handed me in the airport before we parted.

“For emergencies only,” he said winking at me. “Don’t abuse my secret cell number.”

I hesitated only for a second before taking it. I was alone in Rome. I might need him.

“Noah, it’s Olivia,” I say into the receiver.

“I don’t want to talk to you unless you’re telling me that you’re coming.”

“I am,” I laugh.

“Good. The restaurant’s a little bit dressy, are you equipped?”

“Let’s see, I came here to convince the love of my life that he needs to be with me again…I have four “take me back and love me dresses.” Which one would you like?”

“The black one…”

“Okay,” I sigh. “I’ll see you at eight.”

I hang up feeling giddy with excitement. This was it. I was taking control of my life again. Tonight I would eat dinner and relax. Tomorrow I would find Caleb and tell him everything. The Cherry Tart had no idea what was coming. Hurricane Olivia was about to rip through Rome and stir things up.

As I get ready for dinner, I think about the last straw that broke our relationship. The way my heart pounded as I stood outside of Caleb’s office, knowing that the person I loved more than anything was betraying me at that very moment. I considered walking away, pretending that there was someone else in his office with the flirtatious girl. Then I thought of my father, and the way his cheating had hurt my mother more than the cancer ever could. I had to see. Not just him, but her. Who was the girl that had the power to break us apart?

The Past

This was going to be super bad. Hurtful. Life altering. The door slid open noiselessly, so noiselessly in fact that neither Caleb nor his collaborator knew that it was open and that there was a very stunned audience standing in its wake.

“Caleb,” I said in a dry voice, because at this point, the life was already sucked out of me.

Their two heads snapped apart and he took a jerky step back. I eyed the way her dress was hiked up her thigh with a sinking feeling in my stomach. This was reality—her, him, and my life falling apart. There was no way he could explain this away and there was no possibility of me believing him even if he tried.

I looked at his face. It was very, very pale.

“Caleb,” I said again. He looked so stunned I cringed. Sorry for being caught. His mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. The girl looked smug. I wanted to scream Her? Why her?

“I loved you,” I said and that was the first time I had ever said it.

His face crumpled with emotion. How cruel was I to tell him something he’d been waiting for, in the moment of his faithlessness? It was a low blow but this was a fight and I was ready to go down swinging. The little trampette on the table looked at us in amusement.

“You must be Olivia,” she said, hopping down from the desk. I felt revolted at the fact that she knew my name. Did they talk about me? A framed picture of me was positioned near where she had been sitting. My face was witness to their carrying on. I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. She left the room in a swishing of skirts, leaving two broken people to face each other.

“I never meant for this,” he said when the door clicked shut.

“To be caught? Or to be cheating?” I tried to control the tremor in my voice but it was useless.

“Olivia,” he pleaded taking a step towards me.

“No!” I held up my hand for him to stop. “Don’t you dare come near me. How could you? There is nothing worse that you could do to me. Just like my father,” I spat.

“Your father and I are nothing alike. You have used his sins as an excuse not to love for far too long.”

I couldn’t believe he said that. I loved people, I loved lots of people. I just didn’t tell them.

“You make me sick,” I said. “You could have just been a man about it and told me that you didn’t want me anymore.”

“I’ll always want you Olivia. It’s not about not wanting you, it was about wanting you too much and you not wanting me back!”

I swiped at an angry tear that was ripping across my face and smiled venomously. “So, it’s about sex then?”

Caleb threw up his hands in exasperation and looked at me with more anger then he ever had.

“I think that I showed you time and time again, that it was never about sex,” his voice was low and menacing. “I loved you enough to put aside every one of my feelings to accommodate yours. What did I get in return? Coldness and emotional detachment. You are selfish and bitter and you wouldn’t know a good thing if it fell out of the sky at your feet.”

I knew what he said was true. I was all of those things and more, but he could have just left, he didn’t have to make a fool out of me.

“Well then, let the healing process start for you right now.” I left him standing in semi-darkness and walked calmly to the nearest exit.

You will not hurt, you will not hurt, you will not hurt….

I hurt like hell. I hurt so violently that I could barely walk down the stairs, so I sat. I sat and I shook and I wished for a meteor to fall to earth right at that moment and hit the spot where I was sitting. I felt raw and exposed like all of my insides had been turned out and I was bleeding all over the floor. How could this happen? Why? He was all that I had.

I heard the exit door a flight above me open and a burst of music followed the breeze down the stairs. Fearing that it was Caleb coming to find me, I hopped up and ran the four remaining flights not stopping until I was in my car.

I turned the key in the ignition with force and the car hiccupped to life.

Damn him. I could love. I had it all inside of me. If he knew so much about me, why couldn’t he see that?

If I didn’t love him, how could it hurt so badly? Nothing, gave him the right to cheat—nothing!

Instead of heading home my tires swerved right and I merged onto the 595 almost sideswiping a minivan. He had all of me, everything I had to give, and look what he did. I trusted him.

“No, no, no, no,” the tears started pouring in masses down my face. “This can’t be happening.” I pulled over, afraid I was going to kill someone with my driving. My mind was unhinging, my light was turning dark.

“Caleb, no,” I tasted salt seep into my lips. I hated myself, more than I hated him and more than I ever hated my father. I was a tragic mess. The ugliest kind of person. I started driving again. I couldn’t go back home, he would come find me. A hotel was still booked, just a couple of hundred miles north, I would go there.